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harudnae · 8 months

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This is the NSFW fic I wrote for the @op-xreader-zine, with art from nastyhornz!

Also posted on AO3 on 2023.09.20

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Shanks x gn!Reader (no pronouns used)

Summary: Your girlfriend introduces you to her husband.

Content warnings : PWP, afab gender-neutral Reader (no pronouns used), post-timeskip (pre-Wano), alcohol drinking, kissing, groping, blowjob, penetrative sex (Reader receiving), cum shot

Word count: 2k

By now you have a good grasp of how deep it runs along with the kind of people it’s connected with all across the Blues, including the most feared pirates of the era. You’ve been at sea for long enough that you’re used to their codes, habits, and tendencies, and when it comes to trading with them, you trust your gut feeling because it’s never betrayed you.

- Who said information was the only thing worth trading?

Over the past ten years you’ve made a name for yourself in the Underworld.

Despite all this, one pirate remains inscrutable: Red-Haired Shanks.

You’ve been trading with him for years, yet you still can’t quite pin him down—not in the literal sense, though you wouldn’t mind either.

The man can be straightforward when he wants but he remains slippery, true to his reputation of powerful Yonkou under a relaxed facade. Such a strong energy, shrouded in mystery. Very handsome to boot, and sometimes flirtatious too, tiptoeing around the fine line between business and pleasure.

You’ve wondered what it’d be like to cross said line, too... To be fair, it’s pretty clear you’d been pining for each other for a while now, and it’s only out of professional caution that you never initiated anything. Still, it’s always a pleasant surprise when you answer your den den mushi to hear his voice. Civil and cautious as ever, you keep the conversation to the bare minimum.

“What do you want?”

“A headcount, and the whereabouts of anyone you can get currently residing on Hachinosu. A few millions if you’re in.”

You purse your lips and squint—on a weird stroke of luck, you just so happen to have most of the intel he’s looking for. “How many is a few?”

The den den mushi slightly smiles. “Fifty.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise. “You’ve got a deal.” You provide the name of a quiet port town along with a date and time. Once you get acknowledgement you hang up, spine tingling with excitement at the prospect of meeting with him soon.

On the agreed upon day, Shanks waits for you on the outskirts of town, a black cape wrapped around him with the hood up to conceal his identity. The half-baked disguise would fool a regular citizen, maybe a witless pirate, but you had traded with him often enough to know better.

Your heart beats faster as you recognize all too well his lopsided smile curving under the hood at your approach, but you avoid his gaze and keep an even pace as you walk past him.

He follows you into a deserted alley and proceeds with the exchange.

You merely comment, “That’s generous.”

“That was our agreement.”

“Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Shanks pulls his hood back, freeing a few red strands as he reveals his face.

“Thanks, as always,” he says.

You nod slightly. “My pleasure.”

“Say, I’m gonna have a drink in town. Wanna join me? My treat.”

You look back up and hold his gaze, full of mischief and determined. His offer is unusual, though somewhat unsurprising since the few conversations you’ve had together gave you hints of mutual interest, and it’s the first time he actually makes a move. A smirk curves your lips. “Why not?”

Shanks offers to go to an inn downtown, which is pleasantly lively yet not too crowded. As promised, he treats you to a drink, then another after tempting you into staying a little longer. On the surface he’s in it for the small talk, but you see the way he observes you, or the way his smile keeps growing as you indulge him in a silly, innocuous story.

You’re not drunk yet—making sure to keep valuable information to yourself— just pleasantly buzzed, enough for your gaze to linger a little longer on his lips or his hand as you chat, filing the mental images for later perusal.

Shanks leans a little over the table between you, making your cheeks heat up at the proximity. “Who do you work for, really?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You should know better than to ask me that, Red-Hair.”

He holds your gaze and drops his voice a little, “Too bad. I’d hate to have the hots for a World Government dog.”

“You’re not serious,” you jab back.

Shanks flashes you his lopsided smile again. “I’m always serious.”

You know for a fact that he isn’t, but you still take the bait. “And what makes you think I’d be interested too?”

He lifts a scarred eyebrow. “Never said that.”

A slip-up, that’s rare coming from you, when knowledge is power and your main source of revenue. You blame the beer for your sloppiness, rolling your eyes and evading, “Like you’re gonna say that just for the sake of it. Please, Red-Hair, I’m not naive.”

“Never said that you are, either; I wouldn’t be trading with you otherwise.”

You mentally slap yourself for the second example of carelessness that evening, and glare. “Fair.”

His smile grows larger. “But since you mentioned it... are you? Interested, I mean.”

You give him a quick once over. You know you should keep your guard up, but you let it down twice in a row just now; it’s been too long and the tension between you two electrifies the air at this point. You lick your suddenly dry lips.

“Do you really need to ask?”

Shanks hums. “I’ve got a room here, you know.”

You huff a light chuckle as you realize the whole drink-at-the-inn thing was well thought out. “Shall we?”

Shanks graciously leads the way upstairs and into his room. You’ve just stepped in when he locks the door and wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his personal space.

A little short of breath, you quietly tease, “What’s the hurry?”

He bites his lower lip. “I waited too long,” he quietly confesses, and dives in for a kiss.

You almost melt at the contact, long-awaited and far better than your expectations, his lips soft and warm against yours. You lean into his touch, wrapping your hands around his shoulders for support, then moan into his mouth when he slides his tongue between your lips.

Shanks’ warm hand slides up and curls around the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, assertive and demanding as he walks you backwards, trapping you with his bulk against the closest wall.

When he finally leans back, you gasp for air and slide his cape off his shoulders, taking a moment to visually appreciate his strong build. Then you bring a hand to his chest, palming at a pectoral as you idly bite your lower lip.

“Like what you see?” he teases, flashing you his trademark lopsided smile.

You meet his gaze and counter, “Not enough yet.” You run your hands down his torso and undo the few buttons on his shirt before sliding the irrelevant garment off his broad shoulders.

Shanks braces his arm on the wall next to your head, still smiling, then he leans in and huskily asks, “What’s your trade?” His breath raises goosebumps where it lands across your neck in a sexier reenactment of your usual conversations.

Your head falls into the curve of his shoulder. Determined to get the best out of this situation, you set aside all thoughts of professionalism and crane your neck to murmur under his ear, “Fuck me.”

Shanks leans in again, just close enough that you can feel his smile against your skin as he goes on, “What’s in it for me?”

You exhale a quiet chuckle and tuck your thumbs into Shanks’ sash. You unwrap and drop it, then you push him back slightly. Then, holding his gaze, you sink to your knees, sliding his pants down on the way, revealing tented underwear.

His pupils widen and he lifts very interested eyebrows. “You’ve got a deal.”

You smile and slide his underwear down before leaning in, only breaking eye contact when you wrap your lips around his throbbing cock. You start slow and gentle, but a few encouraging moans later you’re properly blowing him off, holding his hips and coating his rock hard erection with spit.

Shanks groans when his tip rubs against the back of your throat, and his hips tense under your hands for a brief moment.

You lean back, running your tongue on the underside of his cock as you let it slide out of your lips. You look up and exhale a quiet pleased sound, a smile curving your lips.

Shanks is absolutely gorgeous, chest and shoulders moving with each breath, muscles taut with restraint, a curtain of red hair casting shadows across his handsome face.

Your eyes linger on his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips, then you meet his gaze, heavy and wanting.

Shanks gently rocks his hips forward, rubbing the head of his cock against your still drawn tongue. You curl your tongue under his frenulum, making him hiss then exhale a deep moan. Biting his lower lip in an obvious show of restraint, he slowly pushes further while his gaze drifts down to your mouth.

Acknowledging his carefulness, you softly hum and invitingly open your mouth wider.

Shanks’ scarred eyebrow briefly twitches, and after a brief hesitation he leans back to get out of your way.

Mildly disappointed, you lick your lips and throw him a curious glance.

Shanks squats down, his intense gaze diving into yours as he cups your chin and tilts it up. His warm breath fans over your lips when he says, “You sure know how to trade.” And he dives in to claim your mouth.

You’re almost out of breath when he finally breaks the kiss and pulls you up so you’re both standing again.

Shanks’ wandering hand raises goosebumps on your back where it snuck under your shirt, and there’s mischief in his smile when he next says, “I’ll hold my end of the deal, then.”

Flattered by his eagerness, you crack a smile and exhale a soft chuckle, then gasp when he flips you around, pushing you against the wall once more with his strong body.

Shanks leans back and pulls your bottom garments down in one swift movement, taking a moment on his way back up to slide his fingers across your inner thigh.

You step out of your clothes and brace your arms on the wall, curving your back for better access. Your breathing gets heavier once his fingertips find your folds, spreading the wetness there and teasing your entrance.

Shanks’ fingers are removed too soon, only to be replaced by his spit-coated cock that he slides into you without further ado.

Your fingers curl against the wall and you exhale a lewd moan once he’s sheathed in. “Oh, fuck...”

“Oh yeah”, Shanks growls, and he starts thrusting into you right away, hard and fast.

With every other sinful sound passing past your lips under his ministrations, you feel his cock throbbing into you, stretching you further, and you bet he’s close already. You turn your head around and bite your lower lip at the view.

Tanned skin glistening with sweat over taut muscle, brow furrowed in the effort, pretty lips slightly parted, dark gaze locking with yours–Shanks is close alright, and you’re not faring much better. His hand slides from your hip to your back, tracing the dip of your spine up to the back of your neck, pushing you against the wall while he fucks you silly.

A harder thrust makes you see stars lingering behind your eyelids when you close your eyes. You slide a hand down and press it over your swollen clit, reaching for the orgasm that’s been building up inside you. Your inner walls flutter around Shanks who pounds deeper in return, finally sending you off the edge.

You’re just starting to come down from cloud nine when he pulls out and tucks his cock between your ass cheeks.

Shanks cums with a series of heavy moans, throbbing against you and painting your lower back with cum. After he leaned back and helped clean you up, he asks, “You won’t tell me who you work for, huh?”

“Mhm. The only thing I can say is that the Underworld and the World Government don’t really mix.”

“Ooh, is that so?”

You have a feeling he already knew that, so you simply shrug.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to require another trade, soon.”

#one piece #op fic #op x reader zine #nae's writing #shanks #shanks x reader #thirst material #one piece x reader #x reader

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mariacallous · 6 months

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When Evgenia Kara-Murza’s husband was arrested in Russia in April 2022, she immediately made it her mission to continue his work from abroad. A longtime anti-Putin dissident, her husband — Russian opposition politician Vladimir Kara-Murza — had been speaking out publicly against Moscow’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Faced with charges ranging from violating wartime censorship to high treason, Vladimir spent a year in pre-trial detention and was sentenced to 25 years in prison in April 2023. Then, in September, the prison authorities transferred him out of Moscow just days before his 42nd birthday. Kara-Murza’s lawyers managed to locate him at a maximum-security prison in the Siberian city of Omsk, where he has been placed in a punishment cell indefinitely. On the sidelines of the Halifax International Security Forum, Evgenia Kara-Murza sat down with Eilish Hart, the editor of Meduza’s The Beet newsletter, to discuss Vladimir’s experience in the Russian prison system, the possibility of a “different” Russia, and the importance of victory on Ukraine’s terms. This interview has been edited and abridged for length and clarity.

In September, your husband was transferred out of Moscow to serve a 25-year prison sentence in Siberia. But initially it was unclear where he had been sent. What were the circumstances surrounding his transfer?

In Russia, when we say that we live in a Kafkaesque reality, it is true. And not only is it Kafkaesque, but it is also a very nasty, evil reality. Vladimir was sent on a transfer two days before his birthday, because I’m sure the authorities knew how many letters of support, encouragement, and solidarity he would receive — including, of course, letters from his own kids. And that is the evil nature of the current regime: They have to break a person by depriving him or her of any means to know that they are loved, cherished, respected, and admired.

So yes, he was sent on a transfer a couple of days before his birthday and that was a very worrying period for us because in Russia, the transfer is one of the most dangerous periods in the life of a political prisoner. A transfer can take months; there is no law that defines the length of a transfer. And the way transfer happens is the person is moved from the [pre-trial] detention center to the place where he or she would be serving their sentence, passing through all these other detention centers along the way. In each of these centers, a person can spend days, or weeks, or months, and the authorities are not required by law to provide any information about a person’s whereabouts, the state of their health, or their needs, to anyone: neither lawyers nor family members. So the authorities can basically make a person disappear for a very long period of time. We know of such cases when people were just lost.

I believe it is crucial to keep the name of the person who is being transferred in the public eye and continuously demand that the authorities provide information about a person’s whereabouts. It helps, like it helped in the case of Andrey Pivovarov, who has now served over three years in prison for being affiliated with a so-called “undesirable organization,” the Open Russia Foundation, and for just wanting to run in the elections and wanting a different future for Russia, just like my husband.

It was very worrying to know that Vladimir is one-on-one with those people who tried to kill him twice in the past. We used all the means available and, thanks to the amazing work of our lawyers, we were able to locate Vladimir very quickly, and we tried right away to establish contact with him just to make sure that he’s alive.

How often are you in communication with Vladimir now? What do you know about the conditions and the treatment he’s experiencing in prison?

Upon arrival at the strict regime prison colony, he was put in a punishment cell right away. That happened on September 21 and he has not left that cell since. Moreover, he was able to let me know that the neighboring cells in the block where he’s being held were also emptied. So he’s basically being held alone, in solitary confinement, in the punishment block of a maximum-security prison colony in the middle of Siberia. A Kara-Murza can only be sentenced to a quarter of a century in Siberia, it seems; it comes with the name.

Vladimir is being held in a cell that measures three meters by one and a half meters [roughly 10 feet by five feet], with a bed that is fixed to the wall from morning till night, and a backless stool is the only piece of furniture in the cell. He has no phone call rights, no visitation rights. He still gets to see his lawyer once a week, or once every couple of weeks, so the lawyer can make sure that he’s alive and as well as can be [expected]. He gets an hour walk every day, during which he does not see anyone either. He gets an hour and a half of writing or reading a day, and when these 90 minutes are up, everything is taken from him. So if he receives any letters through the prison correspondence system, those letters are brought to him together with pen and paper. He gets to read them and respond to as many as he can in those 90 minutes and that’s it.

So if you count an hour walk, an hour and a half of writing, and eight hours of sleep, that leaves him with 13.5 hours of absolute void in that cell. No human communication, no ability to do anything. He’s just sitting between these four walls.

Is Vladimir in solitary because he’s being quarantined or because of some alleged infraction (like we’re seeing with Alexey Navalny, for example)? Is there a chance that he will be put in with a general prison population?

No, there is absolutely no such chance and that was made clear to him when he was brought to that prison colony. The authorities basically told him — it was never put on paper, of course, they would not put something like this on paper — but they let him know that they would not allow him out of solitary confinement because they didn’t want him to “contaminate” other prisoners with his views. And of course, knowing Vladimir, they were sort of right, because he would.

Of course, there were “violations” that were used as pretexts. Once it was an unbuttoned shirt, another time it was a pillow that was not put on the bed in the correct way. (I don’t know what the correct way was supposed to be.) And the last infraction was [failing to get out of bed on time]. [Then] there were these disciplinary hearings and Vladimir was designated as a “consistent violator” of the rules of [detention] and he was officially put under “SUS,” that’s strogie uslovii soderzhania [“strict conditions of detention,” in Russian].

It didn't change much in his situation: he stayed in the same cell, the only difference is he was actually allowed another book (so he has the right to hold two books at the same time now). He is still serving his sentence in this punishment block and the “strict [conditions of detention”] are indefinite. Just as the prison authorities told him, they will not allow him out of solitary confinement.

You know, when I want to illustrate why they’re afraid of him “contaminating” the minds of others, I always remember the story that Vladimir wrote to me about at the beginning of his detention in Moscow. Initially he was put in a cell with five other guys, petty criminals, and they had a TV. Prison cells [in Russia] often have TVs in them because even behind bars, people have to be under constant influence of propaganda. Otherwise, minds begin clearing up quite quickly and people begin asking questions.

So Vladimir was sitting in the cell with five other guys; the TV, with propaganda news; and he had a book by [Soviet dissident] Vladimir Bukovsky. After a few weeks in that cell, they had switched to listening to concerts by the Philharmonic Orchestra, they had all read Bukovsky memoirs, and they were discussing the war in Ukraine and repressions in Russia. The authorities realized what had happened and moved Vladimir to a different cell right away, and they kept moving him until he was left alone in his cell. And then he was transferred to the strict regime prison colony.

Your husband suffers from a nerve disorder as a result of the two poisoning attacks on him in the past. What do you know about the current state of his health?

I know that his condition is not going to get better under the circumstances. I know that polyneuropathy is on the list of medical conditions that should prevent incarceration in the first place under Russian law — and there is a reason for that. It is considered a serious medical condition that could lead to paralysis.

Following these two poisoning attacks, Vladimir sustained peripheral nerve damage and he’s losing feeling in his extremities. In order to keep these symptoms under control, he has to do physical exercises regularly. He has to have fresh air, regular walks, and he had been able to keep these symptoms under control without medication before his imprisonment because he was leading a very active lifestyle. But because of his imprisonment in those punishment cells where people do not get opportunities for fresh air, walks, and exercise, his condition will deteriorate.

These punishment cells are actually used as a method of torture by the Russian authorities today. Alexey Gorinov has been in a punishment cell and he’s suffering from a [lung] condition. Alexey Navalny has not left a punishment cell for many months and he is also a survivor of an assassination [attempt] that must have had consequences for his health. Maria Ponomarenko, a Russian journalist, has been held in a punishment cell. Nikita Uvarov, a young boy, was placed in a punishment cell without any explanation given to his parents or his lawyers as to why this happened. Alexey Moskalev—the father of Masha Moskaleva who was imprisoned for refusing to condemn his daughter for making an anti-war drawing — was also put in a punishment cell. So the only conclusion one can make is that this is done deliberately and used as a method of torture.

Do you think there’s a possibility that Vladimir could be released through a prisoner exchange?

I believe that when we talk about those political prisoners, for whom it is a matter of life and death, all methods should be used to free these people. I’ve just mentioned a few of them, but there are others. There’s also Yevgeny Bestuzhev or Alexandra Skochilenko, who was just sentenced to seven years [in prison] and suffers from many medical conditions. She should not be kept behind bars.

Not only are we talking about human lives, but this would also be a powerful message of solidarity with those Russian citizens who refuse to be complicit in the crimes committed by the regime. By standing with these people and fighting for their release, the world would send a very powerful message to both Russian civil society and the Kremlin that it sees [an alternative]. And that is an important message because if we want to see Russia [become] a democracy one day, we need to do everything in our power to make sure that those people who are the faces of that different Russia survive this, so they can be there to rebuild the country from scratch.

Unlike the other people you’ve named, your husband is a dual citizen, he holds a British passport. Have the U.K. authorities been advocating for his release?

I was very grateful to the U.K. government for imposing targeted Magnitsky sanctions against Vladimir’s persecutors. It only surprises me a little that it was not the U.K. that was the leader in this, but it was actually Canada. Vladimir has been fighting for the introduction of the Magnitsky legislation since 2010, so using Magnitsky sanctions against his perpetrators is like — not fair justice; it’s not, they should be sitting in prison — but poetic justice, let’s say.

It also took the U.K. a year and actually the sentencing to make a statement about Vladimir’s illegal detention. Again, I am grateful that it eventually happened, but I don’t understand why it didn’t happen sooner.

As for more forceful advocacy, I know that the policy of the U.K. government for a very long time has been not to engage, which in my opinion, in the 21st century, is an absolutely unacceptable approach. Because whether they engage or not, the number of political prisoners and hostages taken by terrorist organizations and dictators around the world is growing. And by not engaging, the message they send to those people is, “Bad luck — you’re on your own.” This is absolutely unacceptable because we’re talking about a democratic state that should be interested in fighting for every single bearer of the U.K. passport.

I believe they absolutely will not be able to solve the problem by pretending it does not exist. The more responsible way would be actually admitting that the problem exists and, like Ambassador [Roger D.] Carstens suggested, creating a multilateral approach involving democracies around the world. In the cases of stolen Ukrainian kids or kids kidnapped by Hamas, we’re talking about the literal future of these countries. And when we talk about political prisoners — like in the case of my husband and so many Russian citizens who are sitting behind bars today — we’re very often talking about an alternative to the existing regime. So I believe that solving existing cases is absolutely crucial for tomorrow’s world. But the ultimate goal of such cooperation should be to come up with a set of instruments to prevent such practices from being used in the first place.

Do you still feel that there’s potential for a political alternative for Russia? Because the conventional wisdom around this question seems to be that people inside Russia don’t see an alternative to Putin or that the alternative could be someone worse, in the sense that they might be even more radical.

Well, if the alternative I talked about — all those Russian citizens who understand what’s happening and are trying to oppose it — if that part of Russian civil society is destroyed, then there will be no other alternative or there will be something worse than Vladimir Putin. So everything should be done to make sure that these people survive.

I’m not just talking about those political prisoners in Russia, but also about hundreds of thousands of Russian citizens who left the country because they do not want to be complicit in those crimes. I work with the Free Russia Foundation and we do everything to support and encourage Russian civil society activities [and] initiatives, and they are actually popping up everywhere. So we know that this alternative exists. But of course, it’s very much in the interests of Vladimir Putin to create this warped image of reality in which the entire Russian population is like this monolith that stands behind him in the war.

The fact that detentions continue on a daily basis, the fact that trials are ongoing, that such harsh sentences are being imposed, that torture is being used, and punitive psychiatry has made its return again, shows that there are so many people who protest and reject everything that’s happening. Yes, we do not see mass protests in Russia. In totalitarian countries, mass protests do not happen, and when they do, they end in bloodshed. The 2020 protests in Belarus led to bloodshed and now there are no mass protests in Belarus anymore. Does this mean that these people have just disappeared into thin air? No, they’re there. But conditions in both these countries, in both Russia and Belarus, are such that people cannot go outside en masse because they don’t see any means of changing the situation.

I believe that everything should be done to weaken the [Putin] regime, both from inside and outside of the country, by supporting Russian civil society and by supporting Ukraine’s war effort and encouraging its victory — not just maintaining the status quo, but its victory. Because I believe that this would weaken the regime, like the war in Afghanistan weakened the Soviet regime in the 1980s. By supporting Russian civil society, we can create conditions that would weaken the regime and when cracks appear, I'm sure that we will see these people in the streets.

Given the degree of repressions in Russia and the fact that there is a segment of the population that supports the war and/or Putin, many people believe that political change hinges entirely upon Ukraine’s victory and Russia suffering a military defeat. As such, they argue that supporting Ukraine is the best and the most important way to promote political change in Russia. How do you respond to that argument?

I do believe that victory on Ukraine’s terms is crucial. It’s not just that the Russian army has to leave all the occupied territories, there should be accountability: I’m talking about an international tribunal to bring [to justice] all those responsible for the act of aggression against Ukraine and also for war crimes committed by the Russian army there.

I believe that this would help open the eyes of the Russian population to what was being done. But of course, in order for us to make this information available to the population, which has not had access to one single independent TV channel since 2003, propaganda needs to be fought. And I believe that only when the regime actually collapses will we be able to proceed to this very long, tedious, and difficult process of treating this nation — because it’s not a healthy nation. Not after two decades of stolen elections and propaganda influence.

Yes, there is a part of Russian civil society that understands what’s happening. But there is this huge mass of people — and we don't know how many — who have been absolutely, utterly brainwashed. And working with that, we will need those public trials. We will need some process of lustration. We will need to disband the Russian security services. We will need to bring to accountability those propagandists who were fueling hatred and disinformation in society.

Do you have the impression that the international community no longer sees the potential for a “different” Russia?

Well, there are warning signs. The fact that Ukraine is increasingly being pushed towards some sort of negotiations is one such warning sign. Because if Ukraine is forced or coerced into “donating” part of its territory to Russia, then war will not stop. Vladimir Putin will regroup, he will strengthen his power in the country, and he will attack again in just a few years — and if it’s not Ukraine, it might be Moldova, it might be one of the Baltic states. He needs war to continue staying in power.

Ukraine being forced towards negotiations is a sign that the world is prepared to negotiate with a bully and an aggressor yet again. And I think that by now it should have become clear to the free world that the war of aggression against Ukraine itself is the result of over two decades of impunity and appeasement of Vladimir Putin. So how can we even talk about appeasing him yet again?

I think it bears repeating that if we want the region to live in peace and security, the only way to achieve that is through making Russia a democracy. As long as there is some kind of [autocratic] regime there, warmongering will continue, aggression will continue, repression inside [Russia] will continue. Yes, repression inside [the country] often does not bother anyone until there is aggression outside [its borders]. But aggression outside will continue, as well.

Vladimir Putin has shown time and again over the years that he will not stay within his borders: He invaded Georgia, he annexed Crimea, he bombed Syria — he will not stay within his borders. So I believe that there is this danger that the world, having gotten tired of the war and of supporting Ukrainian efforts, might be compelled to negotiate with Vladimir Putin again. And I just think that it bears repeating that then it will have to pay yet again for controlling the damage caused by another war that Vladimir Putin will launch in a few years.

I’m going to ask one last question, but it’s more so out of my own curiosity. What is your husband reading in prison, do you know?

I know that he re-read [Aleksander] Solzhenitsyn. I know that he re-read Bukovsky and Natan Sharansky. I think it helps. [Vladimir] knows the story of Soviet dissidents very well because he made a documentary about them [in 2005]. He knows — and knew — many of them personally. Many of them have passed away since then, like Natalya Gorbanevskaya, Yelena Bonner, Vladimir Bukovsky, and Viktor Fainberg. But some of them are still, thank God, living and well — like Natan Sharansky or Alexander Podrabinek — and Vladimir knows them all very well. And I know that to him, the fight of Soviet dissidents is one of the most hopeful pages of our modern history. It shows that a small bunch of people, armed only with the truth and the moral courage to tell the truth, can prevail in their opposition to this absolutely atrocious and seemingly all-powerful state machine.

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 2 years

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Planning out the events of chapter eight for Let The Adventure Begin, which means we’ll be dealing with the events of episode four (India), but here’s what I’m, hoping, will be the intro for the chapter.

If not, consider it a bonus for my lovely readers here on tumblr. Enjoy Will talking about himself to Phileas, and calling him angel to his face.

I know Will doesn’t work for the British Museum in canon, but I needed a good excuse for him to know Aziraphale (and because Aziraphale working for the museum may be canon to the infamous 1992 script, but you know the angel’s got his fingers in many a historical pie in London, and as someone with a museum degree, I can’t resist), and for a way for him to get insider information on antiques and artifacts that really should be returned to their rightful places.

This takes place on the ship from Aden to whatever the next port is that they need to get to so they can catch their train.

Warning: none

On with the fic!

Phileas was surprised by the sight of Captain Charity out on the deck, looking out at the waters before them, at the sun setting on the horizon. He hadn’t seen much of the man since they got on the ship earlier this morning, but it was nice to see him.

It was nice to see anyone, really.

Poor Ms. Fix still seemed quite troubled with the knowledge of what her father had done to Digby, especially after returning from sending off her telegraph of their current whereabouts. Will had simply told Phileas that she wished to be left alone once they got on the ship, which was fine, if she needed more time, than so be it.

Aziraphale and his companion had absconded off somewhere, and really, Phileas wasn’t sure it was wise to go look for them. They were a mysterious duo, those two.

Passepartout...

Well.

Phileas had tried to speak with him again a few hours ago, but he was brushed off, told that if he needed help with anything, there were plenty of staff members on the ship he could pay to do so. Really now, Phileas had simply wanted to ask if he was alright.

Yes, Phileas had come off a bit... strong earlier, about pushing forward, but it was for the best! One should not let the past keep them tethered in one place!

Said the man who let the past do such a thing.

But he was free of it now! He was finally moving forward!

Even if it had taken him over twenty years to do so, but it was better than having never done it at all, yes?

“Lost in the clouds, Fogg?” Came Will’s voice, snapping the older man from his thoughts. “But then again, angels belong to the clouds, don’t they?”

Will’s comment made Phileas’ face burn like a hot coal. “W-what?!”

A relaxed smile spread on Will’s lips as he turned, leaning against the railing of the deck. “Angels live on clouds, yes? I mean, that’s what all the artwork shows, and isn’t that where you descended from, when you came into my life?”

“O-oh, I-I have no... what on Earth are you going on about now, you strange man?” Phileas stammered, needing a moment to compose himself.

Will laughed at this, knocking his head back as he did. Phileas’ mouth felt dry as he watched how easily the man eased into the moment, how relaxed he was, the dying rays of the sun behind him, making his curls stand out more with a hint of rust.

He looked a bit like the devilish man he was coming off as.

Not that he was going to voice that aloud to Will, not after that ridiculous angel comment!

Though, Phileas wasn’t that put off by it, it was... just a bit startling to hear something that sounded so honest, even though he could have just been teasing the older man.

Phileas rolled his eyes and approached the railing, looking out at the waters, his stomach turning just a little. Would he ever get used to traveling by boat? He doubted it. He looked at the man at his side, whose attention was now on him, making the warmth return to Phileas’ face. “S-so, what are you doing up on deck?” He asked, trying to distract himself with conversation.

“Came up here to think.”

“Would it not be easier to do that in your room?”

“Nah, I don’t like being confined to a small space. I like more open ones.” Will said as he stretched, Phileas looked away.

“I’m rather used to them myself, they don’t bother me.” Phileas was only used to them because he forced himself to be, he forced himself to the confines of familiar places, boxed himself into them.

Being out in the world felt so surreal, so strange. He felt too exposed sometimes, and it troubled him, but at the same time, it filled him with an excitement he wasn’t sure if he had ever felt before.

“Comes with the job.” Will spoke. “I’m off running about, out in jungles and tombs, caves and such, it’s fascinating. Much better than my little office at the museum, or at the bureau.”

“Aziraphale told me he knows you from the British Museum, do you really work for them? He did mention you worked for a secret agency for the government... or is that something you cannot speak about.”

Will smiled a bit, chuckling. “Of course Fell told you that. He only knows so much of what I do, but in a sense... I do work for the museum, as a consultant. It’s how I met Fell, he’s a consultant and a restorationist for them, very talented with his skills and his knowledge, but he’s an absolute priss about everything.”

Phileas scoffed. “I rather like his way of doing things.”

“Of course you do.” Will said in good humor. “It’s not my main job, it’s more of a small thing I do to get insider information for my actual career. I work for the Bureau of Antiquities.”

“And what is it that you do for this bureau?”

“Well, I travel and hunt down artifacts. I bring them back to where they belong, or I keep them from falling into the wrong hands.” He paused, his expression becoming more serious. “You have no idea what the wrong hands can do with very dangerous objects.”

Philea felt a shiver run down his spine, and he wasn’t sure why. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m sure there’s no need to worry about that though. I have no reason to drag you into any missions.” Will smiled. “I double-checked, the bureau told me to take a holiday! Help out the mysterious Mr. Fogg! Nothing wrong with that, I’ve been needing a holiday, and what better way to enjoy it than with new friends!”

He then put a warm, rough hand over Phileas’ own on the railing, hazel eyes staring into brown. “And with a curious angel, looking for adventure?”

Phileas swallowed hard, unsure of what to say, to do. Just as he opened his mouth, they heard the loud chatter of people approaching, and the warmth was suddenly gone. Will’s hand was slipped into his pocket, and Phileas found that he greatly missed the comforting touch.

Which was strange, Phileas typically avoided contact with others, he was always so bothered by anyone holding his hand unless if he forced himself to deal with it.

The only person he ever really let touch him like that was-

“Shall I see you at dinner then?” Will asked, catching Phileas’ attention again.

“Oh, uh, yes, that should be soon, correct? I should probably get back to my cabin to change...”

“Ah, no need for that, really.” Will chuckled. “You can just come as you are, like you have been doing for the past few weeks, this ship isn’t anything to write home about, you’re fine.”

Will reached out, stopping, looking at Phileas for permission. When Phileas gave a small nod, Will straightened the taller man’s labels for him, then fixed his cravat with a fluid ease.

“One more thing...” He said under his breath before reaching up, brushing his fingers through Phileas’ bangs, loosening them from their styled position. They fell before his eyes and Will smiled. “Much better. See you at dinner, angel.” He moved past Phileas, heading for the door to the rooms.

Phileas was a bit frozen, completely caught off-guard by those brief actions. His heart was beating like crazy, and Phileas wasn’t sure what to make of it.

#let the adventure begin au #will charity x phileas fogg #adventure husbands #the adventurer: the curse of the midas box #around the world in 80 days #will charity #phileas fogg #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe

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dannydehek · 2 years

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Is HyperNation a Scam or Legit? - Afrik Lad (Guest) Danny de Hek (Host) on the WHAT : DE HEK Podcast

Transcribed using Descript DANNY : DE HEK: I've got this opportunity of a lifetime and I think it would be really good for you and your family. It's an investment opportunity and I don't want you to miss out. It's called HyperNation. It says Afrik Lad: Scam, Scam, Scam. For anyone watching these videos, people out there, there is no easy way to be coming a millionaire. There's not easy to make money, so please don't get yourself thought off with people who come and tell you, you'll make you becoming a in six months or a year or two years time. It is certainly, I can assure you a hundred percent that it is not that easy. So please do not do that and carefully before you get into any kind of business like that, somebody gonna to police or anything. In fact, I would suggest if somebody promise you, they cannot just say no. DANNY : DE HEK: Welcome to the What the Heck podcast. I'm your host. I'm Danny de Hek, and today I've got a special guest called the Afric Lad, who's a budding YouTuber, and he's gonna tell us about himself and why he's sticking his neck out, trying to help people from not investing in Ponzi schemes. But I thought, I haven't done a YouTube and a podcast for a while, and I thought I'd bring back the old 12 questions with what to hit. So welcome along to the Podcast and also YouTube channel. How you doing? Afrik Lad: Yes, I'm very well. Thank you very much. Thanks for having me here, Mr. Danny de Hek. Listen man, I'm, I'm, I'm just excited for this one. I think it's DANNY : DE HEK: gonna be great. Ah, good stuff. Now what, whereabouts in the world are you? I'm in New Zealand. You're, you're at Sunday? I'm in quarter past 10 and I'm, no, you're a Saturday at quarter past 10 at night, and I'm Sunday morning at quarter past 10. We're 12 hours apart. Afrik Lad: Yeah. Well I'm, yeah, I'm actually here Saturday. Yeah, in the uk. So yeah, it's, the world is interesting. Isn't in it . It's late here. People are there where some people are still up with London. People don't sleep here anyway, but you know what I mean. It's late. You are early. There you go. . DANNY : DE HEK: I'll tell you about that one other day. Interesting enough because I live in the future, I can tell you the lotto ticket numbers. Would you like to know? Afrik Lad: Listen, man, this is a great one. This one, this is how people should winning the monies, million DANNY : DE HEK: more chances winning the lottery than winning money on Ponzi schemes. I'll tell you exactly. All right. Before people get to know you, I've got, I've got 12 random questions. I don't even know what they are. The first question I just hit my microphone. That was not good. Aside from necessities, what's one thing you could never go? You, Oh, sorry. Here we go. What's one thing you could not go a day without? One thing that Afrik Lad: could not go a day without? Yep. Wow. That's a very serious question, I think. Hmm. I think what I would say is meditation. Meditation. Good man. Yeah. And what I mean by that, I don't mean sitting still on meditation. I know what people who think meditation means. You see, you haven't got, you're DANNY : DE HEK: not sitting on a yoga mat. Afrik Lad: No, I haven't. I haven't got that. No. Right. My meditation is either when I'm just about to go to bed, lay in bed, or sometimes when I'm riding my bicycle around, I could be riding my bicycle to somewhere, maybe to work in the morning. I'm going through stuff, thinking about stuff, processing things, you know, giving myself some positive vibe for the day. That is one thing that I certainly love to do almost every day. I have to do one, one of those mornings and evenings, or sometimes just in the evenings. DANNY : DE HEK: That's good. I think that's pretty entrepreneurial in a way, because you are always thinking of a way to find a solution to a problem analyzing everything continuously. You've got, you've got our spot on. Yeah, I think we've both, we've both probably got adhd. That could be the other technical name for it, but well, let's not go there today. All right. Question number two. Where do you see businesses, Oh, this is goody. Where do you see businesses of the future? Are we gonna beis, What do you think? Afrik Lad: But it looks like I've just been reading the other guy, creating a robot in, what's his name? The rich dude. Oh, looking like all human, whatever. But yeah. I think for sure there's gonna be a lot of technology going, even more technology, more improving. So that's one area of business. But I have a feeling that businesses are diversifying as well. And it could be from any angle, but also it comes down to where you live. Yeah. What technology you have, how you use it, what's, how you've been trained. If you have the, the skills. So for example, in the West where I live, you see that a lot of things have been technology ties. That's what I would use. It's in technology. But also by coming from Africa. You can find, you find that quickly that a lot of people are still far behind in terms of technology. So we are still using the traditional methods for businesses running, but again, that comes down to infrastructure where you live. Sector sector. For me personally, I I, I'm going with both as in the traditional business side of things, without technology, hence on doing farming upcountry, but also, Obviously I work in it as well, so I go with the technological side of things as well, because that's where it looks that we're heading. Yeah. We, we've been getting electronics, vehicle driverless vehicles, All sorts is happening. So people have to be tuned up, be educated, and be smart to get into that world sooner than later. So you can control it or well, maybe not control it, but you, you know how to handle it basically. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah. Interesting enough, when you said diversification, I built a house oh, 14 years ago, and they brought in a guy to do the foundations. Then they brought in a guy just to do the framing, and then they brought in, you know, a window guy, you know, every, the jer, the painter, everyone was outsourced and that, like the olden days used to have one tra doing the whole lot from start to finish. Yeah. And is it like that in Africa? Yeah. Afrik Lad: Yeah, In Africa you get like, again, If you go to my mom's village, for example, in my hometown, yes, you have one dude who build the house up. You know, I mean they, they, they, in fact, we, that's what I mean by the technology is different there. They use like mode bricks or those mode that puts more and puts frames, put more around there. Somebody who does build the whole thing, him or his and his wife, or him and his son, or just him doing it. They don't have to bring special people. But of course in the city and most especially the advanced African countries, they develop the ones that are, are more advanced than the others. In terms of development, they do simulating like this as well. They have a contractor where then contractor, they have somebody who builds the tile in somebody who does the windows and somebody who does the bricks and somebody who does whatever, the plastic, the painting sector, all those kind of different things there. But that's for mainly cities up country is completely different. Yeah. DANNY : DE HEK: So you reckon Elon Musk might have a bit of a trouble cause AI building houses. Afrik Lad: Listen, that guy looks like he's taking over the world. He's doing everything. He's in to the moon now or whatever he call he's going to space. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah, no, he's going to Mars. I think that's where the ecosystem is heading. I was wondering. He is not into that. Thank goodness he hasn't started his own metaverse. Be okay. What what do you most regret not having done? What would you most regret not having done by the end of your life? That could be a bit morbid. I know you're in good health. I hope you're in good health. I Afrik Lad: am in good, good health so far. You know, touch would, and thank God for that. What if I have not done that before I go to my grave? What would I mostly regrets? Huh? That's a tough one because for me, I, I don't bother, I don't worry much about regrets. I don't see that, if anything that I haven't done, that's it, It wasn't meant to be and I haven't done it. I, that's why I try now, I try to do everything in my power that's I can. Anything that I know I can do, I try to do it. If I can't do it, Or I made a mistake, I didn't do it. I don't see that as a lesson and learn, but if we are gonna talk about something that might regret that I didn't do, I go to my degree without doing it. It's probably taking my family to my hometown. That's probably one thing. Regret if I, if I don't, if I could not take my kids to my hometown, then certainly I'll regret that one. Cause I want them to go there, especially with all what I'm doing there. I want 'em to go, I want 'em to connect. I want them to, even when I'm gone to be there, feel like they're part of their as well. Because obviously they are, they, they from there. Yeah. DANNY : DE HEK: I I was hoping you weren't gonna say by yourself a membership with HyperNation, but I'm glad you didn't . Sorry, had to Afrik Lad: say that. Maybe that's, maybe that's one thing I'll definitely regret not buying . Yeah. DANNY : DE HEK: Now this, this. This next question's a bit basic for Kiwis which is New Zealanders. But for you, I'd be quite interesting to know. How many languages do you speak? Afrik Lad: I speak up to three right now. Up to three? Yeah. Yeah, So it's not much. Well basically, obviously speak English. I speak Creole. Creole is what we spoke, what we speak in Israel, mainly well over the country, but mainly in Free Town. Then I speak my mom's language, which is Limbal as well. So those three I speak. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah. Is your mom got a different language? Afrik Lad: My mom's got a different language. Yes, I am. I'm a mixed person as well, by the way. So my mom definitely speaks a different language. Yeah, that different language from different ethnicity. Cause we have multiple, like it's a mixture. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah. We don't get that so much over here, so that's pretty cool. Yeah. Okay. Here, here's a similar question, but as I said, they're all random. Where do you see yourself in five years time? Five Afrik Lad: years time. I, My goal is , That's a tricky one. Where the world is going. Probably join HyperNation . DANNY : DE HEK: You'll be with Mr. H. Afrik Lad: Yeah, probably me, Mr. H in five years time. Yeah. You have your mouth. Yeah. No, but in five years time, what I want to be able to do, or where I wanna be five years time, is I want to for, I mean, I probably told you or not, I'm doing, I started real estate business back home, so five years from now, I want to be able to have two more properties built. And then I want to be able to have the rice, the farm extended to, like I mentioned to you, that I want to have the beans, I want to have peanuts. I want, basically, I want to make sure my farmers expanded to three or four more different crops. I wanna have two more properties built, and then I'm able to, I want to also spend longer back home. I in six months there and six months here. That's, that's the balance I want to have in five years DANNY : DE HEK: time. That sounds really cool, man. Well I did have another question that come to mind when you're talking. How old are you mate? . Afrik Lad: I am definitely the very old. Are you? DANNY : DE HEK: You dunno how old I am then. You must think of granddad. Granddad. I am. Afrik Lad: I I started to let you guess that, but I, I will say to you for sure that I am above DANNY : DE HEK: 30. Oh, about 30. I am above that. Oh, you are? Oh, right. Yeah. I was going 29, so yeah, I'm, I'll go 33. That's my heart. Afrik Lad: It's still not correct. I think you need to go slightly up. Oh right. DANNY : DE HEK: Okay. 31 . Afrik Lad: 31. You said 33. I said go up. You went down. DANNY : DE HEK: Oh, right. I'm no good. See, I told you no good numbers. It's usually words. No no. 34 then. Sorry, Afrik Lad: 34. No, I'm all than I'm, I'm 40. DANNY : DE HEK: Hey. Oh, you're ancient mate. It's just, say again. I'm 53. No, I'm 52. I forget. I think I'm, you know, you age and I'm, I'm 52. Well, funny enough, don't, I was brought up in a religious cult and I used to be a Jehovah's Witness, and we never celebrated birthdays, so, Right. I, I don't keep track of my birthdays really? I literally have to think. I was born in 1970 and then I think, what year is it? And it's 2022. Then I work it out that way. like that. All right, here we go. Another question. What form of public transport do you prefer? And I've got a few options here. We've got ear, boat, train, bus, car. But you might have a took talk. I don't know. Do you have took talks? What? Do you have G Gs you? No, Never Africa. Afrik Lad: Oh, well, well, in Sierra Leon, my country, we have talk talks here as we call them. KK. We have bikes, the ocas, they call them Okada, and of course we have taxis. And so now when you talk of the by preferred form of transportation there, it now comes down to what time of the day, what you know, I mean, and the traffic. So the best form of transportation around, usually it's the Took talks the kk, right? Yeah. For me anyway, the reason being is airy because it's not locked. Everywhere's airy. Oh. And it's kind little protected compared to the bike. If you drive ride a bike, you're like exposed. And I think that's are reckless when the ride around as well. But there's traffic because the traffic, the bike is probably a good form to travel because then you get past the traffic DANNY : DE HEK: interest enough, I was in Bangladesh and they had cgs and I didn't know why they called them cgs, but then I realized that was, well they told me it was cause the guests that they run on, so. So why are they called kk? Kk, KK. Yeah. What's that stand for? ? Afrik Lad: I have no idea. Cause I don't even think that name originated from Sierra Leon. And I think you originally from somewhere in Nigeria or somewhere. I don't know, but it's called Okay. I dunno. I was in there when it started, when this form DANNY : DE HEK: of, Oh you need to, you need to research that my friend. You need to figure that out. That's Afrik Lad: a good idea actually. But when I travel back to Leon each time, that's when it became popular. KK and then the bikes, Okada, that's that name definitely originated from Nigeria or that's how the In Nigeria. Yeah. Cause in DANNY : DE HEK: Thailand they have took Afrik Lad: talks. Yeah. Yeah. So I don't have a clue what Okada means, but again, when that whole KK oat thing started, I wasn't in anymore. I left long time ago, but I do go every year, so, and twice a year sometimes. So I get to use them, but hey, that's how they travel there. They cars. Of course. I prefer the vehicles at night. Late nights when I want to go places, of course I use the car. But during when you took a block of traffic, KK is quicker or bike is quicker. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah, I'm trying to think what I like. I mean air. I think airplanes are been an airplane anywhere time, but I mean that's pretty luxury and a very expensive hold up and doesn't stop my dog. Dogs biting a cable in your bed. the light. Look boys naughty. Chew on the cable. Don't chew on the cables. All right, I think we've had that conversation now. All right, so is your glass half full or half empty? The answer there, I'll let you answer . Afrik Lad: I think my glass, I will say, if I'm honest with you, this glass half will half empty thing. It's not, I don't worry about it. It's not my thing for me. I just carry on. So I don't honestly know what the difference I've notice sat and say, Okay, what's the difference between half full, half empty? What's that? What does that mean? Even I don't even have, All I know is some people, I think when they say half full, does that mean they still go somewhere to go? Something like that. And then half empty. What does it mean? I don't have a clue. DANNY : DE HEK: Oh, it just means, are you positive or a negative? Ancy. , Yeah. I see. Well, I tell, tell you what though. Sorry mate. You go. Afrik Lad: No, I like to consider myself as very positive. I always have a, I have positive mindsets in life and yeah, it just, with how I do things, I like to be very positive. That doesn't mean of course I don't stop and check and critique certain things, but I like to have a go at things and do them and go for DANNY : DE HEK: them. Really? No, that's good. I had a young girl come along to my, one of my meetings on Thursday. Yeah. And she basically had been reading a lot of, Help books. And she said she was she, You need to know your why. And I'm going, Yeah, I'm 53. I've read a lot of self books. I've gone to a lot of courses and she was only, I think she was 29, but I think at that age you need to go through, you know, they repeat a lot of the stuff you've heard from Rich Dad, Poor Dad stuff and and a lot of that, that half glass full thing and all that. I'm sort of, yeah, I've sort of heard it all before , like, I get the positive, how to keep the mindset and blah, blah, blah. But that's what I think of when I hear some of those sometimes. Yeah. Afrik Lad: But sometimes that's how they get, you know, they try to ask you these stupid questions. So no way to just try to basically try to read you and you see something they know. Okay, that's the one we can go for for that person. You know, something like that. DANNY : DE HEK: You've got it. All right. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be? I think it's gonna be home with your Afrik Lad: mum. I'm guessing it's gonna be absolutely home. That's exactly my, where we are living home. It's, it's warmer. Yeah, it's much more, yeah, it's warmer. People are more friendly. You know, I, I don't live too far from the beach. DANNY : DE HEK: So whereabouts are you at the moment? Are you in the uk? I am in Afrik Lad: the uk. Yeah. DANNY : DE HEK: Yeah, I'm right now. Read the full article

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leviiattacks · 3 years

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May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second. It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful.

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase.

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

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corpsekiller · 2 years

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𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 — 𝐛.𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x genderneutral!reader

Warnings: A little angst with a happy ending, fighting, language

Summary: Bucky moves into a new apartment in Brooklyn and isolates himself again, so you decide to knock on his door and see how he is doing. However, he isn't as welcoming as you imagined.

A/N: My new year’s resolution was to write more and I already fucked up, but at least I started this year with a fanfic about the one and only Bucky Barnes. I hope you’re all doing well and survived 2021 just to do this shit all over again <3 If we suffer, then we suffer together.

Word count: 1.752 words

MASTERLIST

Never have you seen someone look so lost in their own home before.

A thin blanket is spread over the cold floor in an attempt to cushion his tired body at night and the empty packages of various sleeping pills sitting beside two bottles of water are evidence of his restless mind. There’s barely any furniture and no decoration that could have made his lonely apartment appear more like home. If anyone asked you, it seems as if no one has lived in here for a couple of years. Though you know, that isn’t quite true.

Bucky moved into this building two months ago, if you remember correctly. He told you about it over a cup of coffee in your kitchen after Steve had passed away, cynically muttered about wanting to be left alone and unbothered as if the mere thought of having to deal with people would bring him to his grave. While that was just typical for a man like him —

Perhaps it was simply a trick of the lighting, but for a moment you caught a glimpse of fear in his gaze until he suddenly turned his head and stared at his hands instead.

That day was the last tie you saw him before he vanished without a trace. No messages, no calls, not even a stupid mail or an old-fashioned letter that might have been his preferred style of communication, just awful silence. You tried to wait for him, hoped for the smallest sign of life, yet the worries you already conceived for him only grew steadily until you couldn’t take it anymore. Taking matters into your own hands, you started your research of his whereabouts — contacting Sam was the first step, but as it turned out he was just as clueless as you were. So, the drastic measures you took next were contacting his court-appointed therapist, the only living person who could possibly have contact with him.

You were right.

Now that you’ve come to think about it, your actions might have been a little impulsive and unceremonious. He probably has a good reason for isolating himself like this and practically interrogating his only other friend and his therapist to find his address and knock on his door without dropping a warning surely crosses the line. Hopefully, he accepts your apology. If he lets you speak, that is.

It’s too late anyway.

Bucky Barnes looks like a deer caught in headlights. He’s standing in his doorway, only dressed in a pair of sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips and a wrinkled shirt, so utterly confused by your sudden appearance that he doesn’t get a word out of his open mouth.

“Can I come in?” You ask reluctantly, after another minute of blankly staring at him. That seems to snap him out of his petrified state. His features harden, the furrow between his dark brows becomes more prominent and his lips curve into a soft frown as he sighs, exhausted and shakily before he begrudgingly moves aside to let you in and shuts the door behind your back the second your shoes hi the carpet in his hallway. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

Bucky is blunt as always. Arms crossed over his chest, he pushes past you and opens the kitchen cabinet to grab a glass, purposefully ignoring your presence trailing after him. Politeness has never been one of his strong suits, but you thought that after a year of knowing you, he’d be more welcoming.

Well, seems like you were wrong.

“I wanted to see how you’re holding up,” you reply truthfully and give him a timid smile as you turn and look around. Once again, the makeshift bed on the floor catches your gaze. It must be hard for him to live in this new sense of freedom after decades of torture and mind control, locked in a prison Hydra created in his head — he doesn’t even know how to handle this newly won life full of opportunities after everything he’s endured. You can only imagine how overwhelmed Bucky must feel and as much as you wish you could be of assistance, there’s nothing you can possibly do if he doesn’t open up and talk to you.

“Why?” Bucky scoffs and hits you with a deathly glaring, staring at you over the rim of his glass as if his thoughts alone could make you disappear into thin air. Much to his dismay, that isn’t the case and after a few minutes of wordlessly frowning at you, you’re still standing in his kitchen. Still, a part of him doesn’t have the heart to throw you out of his home, because.. well, because he likes you. “I don’t recall inviting you and I’m definitely not a fan of you barging into my apartment like this.”

“I was worried about you, Bucky. You completely ignored me for nearly two months, so I spontaneously decided to visit,” you retort, visibly irritated and disappointed. Your expectations weren’t particularly high before you appeared on his doorstep and in the back of your mind you already made up different scenarios and predicted how he would react, but this certainly surpasses your imagination. “I thought we were friends.”

Your voice carries a spark of hope. His shoulders tense and for a second, he seems to be thinking about your words and the time he spent with you, considers the moments of peace he had whenever you invited him for coffee in your own home. Maybe he isn’t as uncaring as he acts, maybe he secretly appreciates your efforts to get to know him and close the gap between the two of you, but then he crushes that flickering dream of a possible friendship in a matter of seconds.

“No,” he grunts repellently and rolls his eyes, emptying the water he’s been holding in a gulp. The black vibranium of his arm glints in the dim sunlight that fights its way through his curtains as he pushes his glass over the counter and presses his lips into a thin line. “No, we’re not.”

Your stomach drops. It’s not as beautiful as a crystal shattering on the floor in a million broken pieces, it’s not as pretty as the books you read always said it is. No, instead it feels like you’re suddenly plunged in icy water and your face burns with the scathing cold that envelopes your body and drags you deeper into the depths of heartache.

Then, anger comes.

“Fine,” you snap after a moment of uncomfortable silence. Turning on your heels, you move past him, roughly bumping into his shoulder while crossing the room to reach the door. A hand comes up to rest on the doorknob, then you hesitate for whatever reason, only to turn back at him and seethe. “I apologize for the disturbance, I thought you actually gave a fuck about me, but it seems like I was wrong.”

And with that, you leave.

To your surprise, it doesn’t take longer than two minutes to hear Bucky call out for you. He’s followed you through the hallway and down the stairs, catching up to you with ease and now putting himself between you and the exit. “Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Move out of the way, Barnes.”

“No. I won’t move until you listen to me,” he shrugs and leans against the doorway, firmly hindering you to move around him and slip out of the building. Muscles bulge under the flimsy fabric of his shirt when he crosses his arms over his chest and arches a brow, nearly challenging you to wipe the smug look right off his attractive face. There he is, the lady’s man from the 40s you heard so much about when you asked Steve about him once, a glimpse of his old persona coming to the surface in the middle of a heated discussion with you.

Still, you refuse to back down after he treated you like shit merely five minutes ago.

“Not a chance. I don’t care about your stupid apology.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn and childish,” he argues and rolls his eyes at your statement as if he’ isn’t acting just as immature as you. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings and you’re right, we are friends. It’s just—”

There’s a small part of you that tells you that maybe, maybe you’re overreacting. People make mistakes and this situation, the new apartment, Steve’s death, certainly must be a nightmare for him, but that doesn’t give Bucky the right to be an asshole to you.

“Are you even listening to me? I told you I don’t care about—”

You’re cut off by a kiss and you’d be offended by the audacity of this man standing in front of you if your heart didn’t skip a beat in your chest as his thumb runs over your cheek and his lips move against yours, desperate to taste you in a rush of adrenaline and recklessness. You should pull away, you really should, but then his tongue slips into your mouth and you claw at his shirt for support, because you fear your knees won’t be able to carry your body any longer.

Your vision is blurry and your chest heaves as you both break away, lips swollen and cheeks heated, head still dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the force he kissed you with. A hand settles on your waist to keep you steady on your feet and when you finally gather the courage to look at him, he wears a triumphant grin that makes you flush even deeper than before.

“Apology accepted,” you mutter and roll your eyes when he moves to lean into another kiss. Still, you throw your arms over his broad shoulders and pull him closer until your lips touch for a second time that day.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel x gender neutral reader #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

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I Bought A Ring (e.b.)

Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you.

AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!

there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good

You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test.

After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together.

He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep.

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment.

You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious.

“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained.

Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship.

“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly.

You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished.

Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby.

“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked.

Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw.

“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said.

“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop.

“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house.

You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people.

After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open.

When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered.

Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained.

Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him.

After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long.

Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him.

Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to.

“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers.

“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted.

“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained.

The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said.

“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered.

Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call.

They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down.

The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light.

“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife.

Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them.

Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding.

Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt.

“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked.

You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped.

Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side.

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him.

Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.

Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance.

Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you.

Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight?

Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway.

It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse.

“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained.

Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him.

He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose.

Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you.

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery.

Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added.

“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.

Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.

“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.

Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said.

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied.

The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #911 lone star #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley oneshot #oliver stark

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mishasminions · 4 years

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The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15.

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

#THE LAST TIME I'LL CLOWN FOR THIS SHOW #SUPERNATURAL #DESTIEL #15x20 #15x19 #15x18 #UNTAGGED #INSIGHTFUL INSIGHTS

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

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Tears of Themis: Xia Yan/Luke 【妄夜之魇】 Looming Nightmare - Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Unsubbed Video

Transcript below cut:

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Part 1

Forest

In the morning, a group of villagers walked slowly through the forest’s rocks and mud.

Nearby, a young man dressed as a knight noticed them.

Luke: Please wait!

The young man pushed aside the dense branches, rushing over to the villagers.

Villager Captain: You are…?

Luke: My apologies for troubling you all. I’m Luke Pearce, a knight.

As he spoke, he balled up his left hand and placed it before his chest, displaying a standard gesture of courtesy to the villagers.

Villager Captain: So you’re a knight. Greetings, is anything the matter?

Luke: I’d like to ask you all if there is anyone who knows where the evil dragon is?

Villager A: E-evil dragon?!

When they heard “evil dragon”, a momentary fear displayed on all the villagers’ faces.

The whispers among them gradually grew louder, and the originally calm group gradually began to lose control.

Villager A: W-why are you searching for the evil dragon…

Villager B: Why are you asking about that beast’s whereabouts?! Are you trying to get it to come over here again?!

Villager B: O-our village, it…

Villager Captain: Calm down.

The young captain placed a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged man to calm him down temporarily.

Villager Captain: We were impolite. Sir Knight, none of us have malicious intentions. It’s just…

Luke: Were… you all also attacked by the dragon?

Villager Captain: Indeed…

The young man sighed.

Villager Captain: We originally lived in a nearby village. Three days ago, our village was attacked by that dragon.

Villager Captain: The flames it breathes, and its massive wings that kick up gales when they beat…

Villager Captain: That’s how our houses and fields were thoroughly annihilated.

Villager Captain: Many villagers that couldn’t escape were left forever in those ruins.

Villager Captain: But that dragon didn’t stop there. It… even carried off lots of innocent people.

Villager Captain: That’s what happened to my wife and that grandma’s only daughter.

Villager Captain: We don’t even know if they’re still alive.

The young man spoke until his voice faded. The hands that hung on his sides were tightly clenched, like he was trying to control his emotions.

Villager Captain: Like us, lots and lots of villages and cities have been destroyed by it in the past several days.

Villager Captain: Those attacked by it can only flee in search of a temporary safe place.

Villager Captain: We…

Luke: … I’m sorry for making you recall such horrible things.

The young knight lowered his head in apology.

Luke: On my journey, I’ve also heard lots about its terrible actions.

Luke: When I saw you all from far away, I thought you were all normal passersby. I didn’t think…

Villager Captain: It’s alright. We do have to learn to face this eventually.

Villager Captain: Although, Sir Knight, why are you looking for that dragon?

Luke: Because…

A flash of desolation appeared on the knight’s face.

Luke: Because I’m looking for someone who is incredibly important to me.

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[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

The fortune-teller fiddled playfully with the crystal ball in her hands. The lights floating in the air moved as she did.

With a sliver of curiosity on her features, she lifted her gaze and looked over her visitor, then placed her hands piously in front of her chest.

Fortune-teller: Esteemed Sir Knight, may I ask why you are here?

Luke: …

The knight’s rigid body leaned forward slightly, an unconcealable urgency and distress in his eyes.

Luke: I want to find someone. She’s vanished, and I have no idea where she is.

Fortune-teller: Oh? Find someone? Who might it be?

Luke: Someone… that grew up with me since childhood.

Fortune-teller: Someone that grew up with you?

Luke: Yes.

He released a deep sigh.

Luke: It’s been eight years since the start of the war.

Luke: The day I left for battle, I promised her that I would return home safely and live with her forever, never to leave again.

Luke: But after the war ended and I returned to the village, all that welcomed me was an empty house.

Luke: I asked everyone around about where she went, but they all said that she suddenly vanished one day.

Luke: Only after did I find out that everyone had thought that I’d died in battle.

Luke: She…

The knight grasped tight on the longsword in his hands. The ruby on the hilt flashed faintly in the darkness.

The fortune-teller leaned against the table, holding her chin with her hand.

Fortune-teller: Have you ever thought that she just couldn’t keep waiting anymore, or that she might have moved elsewhere because she thought you were dead?

Luke: She wouldn’t. We’ve lived together for so many years. I know best about what sort of person she is.

Luke: I know that even if I made her sad or if everyone said I was dead…

Luke: As long as she hasn’t seen my corpse, she won’t give up, and she’ll keep waiting for me…

Luke: … Something must have happened for her to choose to leave without a farewell.

Luke: So, I want to find her. I want to know what exactly happened.

The young knight’s voice gradually weakened, until it was nearly inaudible.

The fortune-teller tittered quietly.

Fortune-teller: I understand. Then, please wait a moment—

She placed her hand on the crystal ball. As the lights and shadows drifted, an image of a dragon occupying the plains gradually appeared.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-teller: Do you know of the legend of the evil dragon?

Luke: Evil dragon?

Fortune-teller: Yes. This dragon runs amok over the continent, scattering destruction and annihilation everywhere…

Fortune-teller: Its evil reputation is now common knowledge among all people.

Luke: But what does that have to do with her?

Fortune-teller: I am unsure of the exact connection it has to her, but based on the image in the crystal ball…

Fortune-teller: You just need to kill the dragon and obtain the treasure chest it protects to discover the way to find her.

Luke: …

Luke: Are you sure?

Fortune-teller: Of course. My divinations have never been wrong. If not, Sir Knight…

The fortune-teller unconsciously knocked a few times on the crystal ball, and a clear sound reverberated in the room.

Fortune-teller: Then you wouldn’t have come to find me, correct?

Luke: … They say that you are the greatest fortune-teller on the continent, and that there’s nothing you don’t know.

Fortune-teller: Which is even more reason for you to believe me, no?

Luke: …

The knight nodded ponderously.

Luke: I understand. Where is the dragon right now?

Fortune-teller: That’s for you to find out.

Fortune-teller: However, there is something that you must think over first.

Fortune-teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

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Luke: So I can only do as the fortune-teller instructed, travelling as I search for clues on the dragon.

Villager Captain: It seems like the person you’re looking for… must have been captured by the dragon too.

When he finished listening to the knight’s story, the captain gave a quick conclusion.

Villager Captain: The young lady you’re looking for isn’t the only one. In the past while, that dragon has already captured many good girls.

Villager Captain: Many noble ladies and wives in the city weren’t even spared.

Luke: Then… has anyone ever returned among those who were captured?

Villager B: No – no one has ever seen them again after they were taken.

Villager B: Whether the dragon has hurt them, whether they’re still alive, or where they’re kept… no one knows anything.

Luke: No one knows anything, huh…

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

The knight suddenly lifted his head, looking firmly at the villagers.

Part 2

Forest

In the forest, the young knight faced the villagers, his gaze firm.

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

Villager B: This…

Looking at the villagers’ somewhat hesitant expressions, the knight smiled slightly.

Luke: I understand your concerns, but to me, as long as there is still one thread of opportunity, I will definitely not give up.

Luke: So…

Luke: Please, do any of you know anything at all about the dragon?

Villager Captain: …

The villagers looked at each other. The young captain tilted his head as if trying to recall something.

Villager Captain: I don’t know much about the dragon, but…

Villager Captain: Three days ago, when I was fleeing the village, I think I saw that dragon flying towards the highest mountain peak on the northeast of this forest.

Luke: The peaks in the northeast…

The knight looked towards the direction that the villager captain was pointing towards. He could vaguely see the shape of a mountain peak there.

Villager Captain: Yes, but that mountain is farther from here than it looks.

Villager Captain: Plus, there’s also a path full of thorns at the end of this forest that normal people can’t get through at all.

Villager Captain: Currently, not many people have gone there, so I can’t be sure if the dragon is actually there.

Luke: Is that so… but it’s worth a try.

Villager B: Uh… I’ve also heard a little about the dragon.

The formerly irritable middle-aged man, possibly being moved by the words earlier, hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

Villager B: That dragon probably does live on that mountain peak.

Luke: Are you sure?

Villager B: Yes. Two weeks ago, an artisan from the city went with his brothers there.

Villager B: But several days later, aside from a young man, no one in that group returned.

Villager B: That young man said that they were attacked by that beast on the mountain…

Villager B: But sadly, his wounds were too grave, and he passed away a few days later.

Villager B: After that, no matter how much money the city nobles offered, no one else dared to go put their lives on their line.

Villager B: We also…

The middle-aged man sighed.

Villager B: We’ve… given up already.

Luke: …I understand. Thank you all for giving me so much information.

Luke: It’s not that early anymore, and I need to head for that mountain, so I’ll be heading off.

Villager B: Sir Knight, are you really going to look for that dragon?

Villager B: With how massive and brutish that dragon is, it’ll kill you!

Villager B: You don’t know how that young man who returned…

Luke: Thank you for your concerns, but this is a promise I made with her. No matter how difficult the path forward is…

The young knight looked straight at the group in front of him, his voice firm and resolute.

He spoke each word emphatically, answering the question earlier, yet seeming more like he was telling himself.

Luke: No matter how difficult the path forward is, even if everyone has given up, I will not stop moving forward.

Villager B: …

Villager Captain: …

The villagers fell silent for a moment.

A long moment after, the young captain spoke.

Villager Captain: Sir Knight, since you’ve made your decision to go, we have no reason to continue trying to persuade you.

Villager Captain: The road ahead will be difficult, and defeating the dragon is sure to be no easy task…

Villager Captain: All we can do is to pray that you find the one you love quickly and return safely.

Luke: Thank you, everyone.

The knight made a sincere gesture of courtesy again towards the villagers, then turned around and walked into the depths of the forest.

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Plains

After a long trek, the young knight bypassed that rumoured thorny block and arrived at the wilds outside the forest.

Luke: …

Though it was called the wilds, all the plants had long been burned into crisps. Black dust had settled densely over the rocks.

A massive mountain stood at the edge of his range of vision. A dense black fog lingered over the peak, quiet and strange.

At the foot of the mountain, many volcanoes and short rock mounds created continuous undulations, extending to the horizon.

Luke: …

He lifted his head and looked towards the faraway sky. The red light of the pre-sunset sun was harshly dazzling.

Luke: A precursor to the solar eclipse, huh…

Luke: Maybe it really is as the person before said…

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[Flashback]

Villager B: Sir Knight, before passing, that person who returned said…

Villager B: On the day of a solar eclipse, it seems like the dragon’s strength will weaken.

Luke: Weaken?

Villager B: Yes, that person kept repeating this before he passed, so I remember it very clearly.

Villager B: If you really must get near it, maybe you can choose this day.

Luke: … Understood.

[Flashback]

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Luke: …

Luke: Based on the appearance of the sun, the eclipse will only start tomorrow…

Luke: The volcanoes around look pretty unstable right now. Now is definitely not the best time to act.

Luke: I’ll build a temporary residence near the forest and wait for a chance.

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Temporary Residence

In the wooden hut, the knight was in the middle of pre-battle preparations.

Luke: …

He cleaned his sword in the firelight. When his gaze brushed over the ruby on the hilt, he fell into a momentary trance.

Luke: …

Luke: Soon, I’ll be able to see you again.

Luke: Right?

Luke: …

In the empty room, the only response he received was the crackling of burning firewood.

The young knight lowered his head.

The emotions that he had continuously restrained quietly trickled out where no one could hear, under the comfort of the moonlight.

Luke: I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact you even once for so long…

Luke: You must have been so worried during then…

Luke: …

Luke: I wonder how you’re doing right now, and if you’ve encountered any danger…

Luke: Were you scared, facing that dragon alone? Were you injured?

Luke: Don’t be scared, I’ll save you very soon.

The wind blew past soundlessly. In the quiet hut, the knight’s voice became clearer and clearer.

It seemed as if a burning flame had ignited in his eyes. The moonlight shone in, casting light over the entirety of the room.

Luke: We promised that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t leave, and we’d always be together…

Luke: I won’t let you bear everything on your own anymore.

Luke: It’ll be tomorrow… wait for me.

He smiled, his fingertips brushing over his own reflection in the ruby.

Luke: Goodnight.

The knight placed his sword by his side and sank into a shallow sleep.

Just like all the nights in the past many years.

Part 3

Garrison Camp

Troop Leader: Hey, Luke, you returned with perfect timing.

Troop Leader: Just finished bringing over the new delivery of rations. I brought you the letter from the one at your home.

When he saw the person who was placing the letter on his bed, the knight shook his head helplessly.

Luke: Leader, we’re still in the troops right now. Even if you want to address her…

Troop Leader: Alright, alright. The letter that your wife sent, does that work?

Luke: We haven’t gotten married yet…

Troop Leader: Hahahahaha—

Troop Leader: Hey, honestly though, Miss MC really does treat you well.

Troop Leader: I have no idea how she managed to get that many rations and letters sent over here.

Troop Leader: If I remember right, she’s just a commoner, right? The type without even a fief. Tsk tsk tsk, she really is good.

As he teased him, the leader came up to the side of the bed, jokingly bumping against the young knight’s shoulder.

Troop Leader: Luke, I feel like she’s even more proactive than you. Bring out your knight’s spirit already!

Troop Leader: Though we can’t contact the outside world, I’m cheering you on inside, yeah?

Luke: Thanks, leader.

Luke: Although there’s something you’ve gotten wrong. Though I can’t send her replies…

He layered the letters together, placing them in the closest spot to his heart in his armour.

Luke: This is my answer to her. My heart is always with her.

Luke: The day the war ends, I will return to her side, safe and sound.

Luke: When that time comes, I won’t leave her ever again.

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Forest

Luke: …

When he saw the multiple letters in front of him, the young knight sunk into his memories.

To prepare for the nearing battle, he came to the riverside at dawn to change the medicines on the wounds he received in the war.

Luke: Back then, I thought that I would be able to reunite with you after the war ended.

Luke: We’d then be able to be like thousands of other normal people, living out our lives healthily and safely.

Luke: But I never thought…

He couldn’t help grasping tight on the letter papers.

Luke: Did you know that during those eight years, I kept thinking about you over and over, speaking on my own, just like this?

Luke: I remember every single thing you wrote to me about.

Luke: You said that the neighbouring auntie’s puppy stepped all over the rose garden at the doorway again.

Luke: You said that the honey that a friend gave you was very sweet, and you wanted to see the bee yard too, but you didn’t go because you knew I wouldn’t agree.

Luke: And so much more… I’ve remembered every single thing perfectly.

Luke: I… really… miss you.

The knight couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, as certain crystalline things fell slowly between his fingers.

A few minutes later, he took a deep breath, then put down his hand.

Luke: This is bad, I lost control of my emotions for a moment.

Luke: I wasn’t even that sad last night, but maybe it’s because I saw you in my dreams again, so I…

Luke: Now isn’t the time to be sentimental. I’ve got to bolster myself to face the upcoming battle.

The sunlight shone into the forest, past the gaps between the swaying leaves, falling dappled on the knight’s armour.

Far away, the sun displayed a light that was different from normal.

Luke: Is it coming…

He quickly put on his clothes and grasped onto his sword again.

Luke: Wait for me.

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Plains

Because he had already crossed over the forest once, the knight arrived at the plains much faster than before.

Clouds smothered the originally-blue skies. The roars of the dragon resounded nonstop at the horizon, and the air was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.

Luke: …

Suddenly, the roars of the dragon became unusually clear. A massive black shadow rushed down from the mountain peak, gradually nearing the centre of the plains.

Luke: !!!

Luke: This is my chance!

The knight immediately broke into a sprint towards the black shadow.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The moment he arrived at the centre of the plains, the dragon was landing with two young villagers in its claws.

The two people tossed on the round tumbled a few times. Tears covered their faces, and their hands were tightly clasped.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Run!

The knight threw a wooden gun towards the dragon, then yanked out the dagger at his waist and threw it backhandedly on the ground near the forest.

He loaded an arrow as he sprinted towards the dragon.

Luke: Take that dagger and get out through the forest now!

Luke: I’ve left markers on the path. Follow those!

Female Villager: O-okay… tha-thank you!

The pitiful villagers tremblingly picked up the dagger and ran towards the forest as they supported each other.

They passed by the young man, kicking up sand and stone. The two sides of the battlefield changed in a flash.

Luke: …

The knight did not look back to the already faraway villagers. He calmly set his hands on the bow.

The dragon roared furiously at him, spitting a ball of fire.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

The knight stepped swiftly off the rocks in front of him, resolutely loosing an arrow towards the dragon, sidestepping the close call of the fire.

Luke: This won’t do. It’s too fast.

Luke: I won’t be able to dodge at all with speeds like that…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: !!!

Without giving the knight room to think, the dragon launched its second attack.

It looked again at the person in front of it and spat out a large amount of fire. The flickering firelight lit up the entire desolate plains.

The knight dodged the attack. The winds surged, the glint of the blade shone, and the surroundings continuously heated up.

Luke: …

Luke: This is how strong it is when it’s weakened?

Luke: If this keeps going, I’ll lose all my footholds.

Luke: What do I do…

His brow wrinkled tightly, looking at the dragon that had built up its power and was waiting to attack again. His hands held his hilt tight—

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon opened its mouth wide, flying towards the young man.

Rocks were sent flying from the intense movements of the two opponents. The knight planted his feet on the shards of rock, both of his hands gripping his longsword.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Want to kill me? Keep dreaming!

As if he couldn’t hear the dragon’s roars at all, he was completely focused on looking for a chance to attack.

Luke: If it’s the instant before it breathes fire… as long as I grab that chance…

Luke: If I can strike your vitals…

Luke: I’ll still have a chance!

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon threw back its head, releasing a long roar towards the skies.

Luke: Now!

The knight lifted the sword and sprinted up to the dragon, slashing down on the dragon’s neck with all his strength.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Blood sprayed, and the massive creature struggled, writhing, and finally spread its wings, flying off towards the heights.

Luke: Don’t even think about escaping!

The young man ran up, and three arrows cut through the air.

Howling winds blew as the eclipse fully set in. On the faraway peaks, the contours of a black castle could suddenly be seen.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon dodged the arrows, roaring in pain, then escaped in flight towards the faraway castle.

Luke: It all ends here.

The young knight discarded his longbow and gripped at his sword, planning to chase after the dragon.

However, right then, a pattern of lights shone from the astrolabe he was carrying.

He froze for a moment and thought back on what the fortune-teller had told him before—

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[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

Fortune-Teller: Wait.

Fortune-Teller: Keep this with you.

The fortune-teller called out to the young man who was on the verge of leaving and handed a metal astrolabe to him.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-Teller: If the astrolabe starts flashing, it’s a warning from me to stop fighting immediately.

Luke: … I am well aware of when I should stop.

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, you do indeed have lots of fighting experience.

Fortune-Teller: But I am the only one who can help you, so trust me, alright?

Luke: …

[Flashback end]

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Luke: …

Luke: Ouch…

The knight frowned in pain, as if he had finally come to his senses from the tense atmosphere, and looked over himself out of habit.

Luke: !!!

The dark armour had long been stained in blood, and some of the parts that were exposed were covered in wounds of all sizes.

Luke: I was… injured this badly?

Luke: Sure enough… that dragon’s strength…

He ultimately decided to stop.

Part 4

Temporary Residence

The knight closed the door to the residence.

He leaned on the wall, like an injured little animal.

Luke: How could this be…

Luke: Is the difference in strength between me and that dragon that big?

Luke: How am I going to save her at this point… I…

The astrolabe beside him shone again. Then, after a flash of white light at the doorway, the fortune-teller pushed open the door.

Luke: It’s you?

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, I hope you have been well since our last meeting.

The fortune-teller looked over the person in front of her, her eyes squinting slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Looks like you listened to what I told you. Well done.

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: This expression… were you not willing to give up?

Luke: None of your business.

Fortune-Teller: None of my business… haha, do you remember what I said back then?

Luke: …

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-Teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-Teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: Has reality now changed your mind?

Luke: No. No matter when, I will not change my mind.

Fortune-Teller: Will not change? Then… what can you do?

Fortune-Teller: You must have realized the natural difference in strength between you and the dragon from battling.

Fortune-Teller: It looked like you won the battle, but what are the results?

Fortune-Teller: Even while it was weakened during the solar eclipse, the only effective attack you landed was that single slash.

Fortune-Teller: While you…

The fortune-teller looked at the young knight’s right arm, mottled with blood and some burn marks.

Fortune-Teller: You’re covered in wounds already. How much longer can you hold on for?

Luke: …

Luke: I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t give up. I must get that treasure chest and find her.

Luke: I don’t want to think about anything else.

Fortune-Teller: … Is it worth it?

The fortune-teller went silent for a moment, then asked this question suddenly.

Luke: It is.

Luke: I promised her that I’d return to her, that I’d safely tell her that everything had ended, that we would never be apart from then on.

Luke: I think about her every day, and I look forward to seeing her again every day. I’ve reread each of the letters she sent too many times to count.

Luke: She is my everything. I won’t just give up like this.

Fortune-Teller: … So you plan to seek out that dragon again?

Luke: Yes, and I don’t only plan to find it…

Luke: As you said, I will defeat and kill it, no matter what the price is that I must pay.

Fortune-Teller: … I understand.

Fortune-Teller: Then let me tell you one more thing.

Luke: ???

Fortune-Teller: Do you know why that dragon always flies towards that castle?

Luke: Do you mean that the treasure chest is…

Fortune-Teller: Yes. It’s because the box that it values the most is in the castle…

Fortune-Teller: When it is attacked, it will naturally return there.

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, the eclipse will end, and the sky will return to normal.

Fortune-Teller: The skies before daybreak are always the darkest…

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, when the sky is lightening, the dragon’s power will be at its weakest.

Fortune-Teller: It will also lose the ability to breathe fire.

Fortune-Teller: If you must go, go on that day.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Thank you.

Fortune-Teller: No need for thanks, but Sir Knight, let me give you one last warning.

Fortune-Teller: The path you have chosen is full of the unknown. I hope you will not regret this in the future.

Luke: I am sure that I won’t.

Fortune-Teller: That would be best.

The fortune-teller looked at the knight, smiled strangely, then left.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

After the knight cleaned his wounds, he finally had some time to rest.

Like usual, he stood his sword by his side. When he looked over the ruby on the hilt, he suddenly stopped.

Luke: This ruby… you gave it to me.

He gently stroked it, his warm breath leaving a mist on the gem with his movements.

Luke: I remember on the day I set out, you stood at the very front of those who were sending off the troops, a total mess of tears.

Luke: I was the one who was leaving, but you were even more agitated than me.

Luke: You kept reminding me to take care of myself, to not force myself.

Luke: Then I held your face with a smile, telling you that it wasn’t like I wouldn’t return.

Luke: …

The knight suddenly turned away.

Only when he was able to smile again did he turn his head back, as if everything before had just been an illusion.

Luke: Before I left, you took off a ruby from the mirror you always used and embedded it on my sword.

Luke: You said that a highly skilled person gave you that mirror, and it had magical power.

Luke: Especially these rubies, which represent inextinguishable fire and burning vitality.

Luke: We made a promise together, and then you watched me mount the horse, but I never looked back.

Luke: I thought that I would be able to see you soon after the war ended.

Luke: But now that I think about it, I should have taken one more look at you back then.

A slight bitterness appeared on the young knight’s face, but it was soon replaced by his usual expression.

He laid down on the bed, looking at the fluid moonlight in the sky.

Luke: Did you know that there’s something that I didn’t tell you back then?

Luke: Rubies don’t only represent fervour and life. They also represent love.

Luke: I told myself that after the war, I would confess to you, and let this ruby bear witness to our love.

Luke: So, please wait a little more for me.

Luke: There are still ten days.

Luke: No matter what the price is, I will be the victor.

The knight mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes.

Outside the hut, a black mist rose, then vanished in the silence. The moment that the smoke dissipated, a woman’s quiet laugh seemed to sound from deep within.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Plains

Ten days later, as the fortune-teller said, the young knight made his way towards the old castle.

But he did not successfully reach his destination, because on the plains under the castle…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: Are you here to obstruct me?

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Looks like the fortune-teller was telling the truth. The treasure chest really is in the castle.

Luke: So it must also be true that you’re at your weakest today.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

As if in response to the knight’s words, the dragon snarled in fury. Its massive claws beat heavily on the ground, drawing up plumes of dust.

The knight retreated a few steps, held up his longsword, and stood in battle stance.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: You sure look enthusiastic.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Perfect, then. Let’s have a fierce battle this time.

Luke: This is the last chance. I won’t let you escape again.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

At the edge of the sky, the black sun that had persisted for ten days started to “move”. The light of tiny stars shone through the air, casting light on the person and dragon.

The knight lifted his sword.

Luke: Let’s start.

Dust flew as the shining sword blade cut through. Both human and dragon soon were immersed in intensive battle.

Their battlegrounds shifted several times, from the plains to the mountain peak, finally arriving to the front of the castle’s door.

The eclipse was slowly retreating, and the dark sky was beginning to show its original hue.

Compared to last time, the battle this time lasted for a very, very long time.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle on the Peak

Luke: Urk…

The knight brandished his longsword, pushing himself to block the dragon’s attack.

The originally flat field had already been ruined to the point where it was difficult to stand on. Thunder boomed intermittently as dark clouds accumulated above.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The massive dragon moved again.

Luke: Ow…

Luke: …

This time, the knight’s resistance started to become sluggish.

Scorching blood sprayed out. He lost his footing, falling brutally onto the ground.

Luke: Ugh…!

Luke: No… I can’t fall yet…

He stabbed the longsword into the ground with difficulty and stood staggeringly up again.

He looked at his enemy, his bloodied, dirtied face full of resolution.

Luke: Ha… what sort of battle is this? Just a bunch of mutual killing attempts…

Luke: But did you think I’d be scared? Stop kidding around.

Luke: You have no idea what sorts of emotions I put behind each slash.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Although, you don’t need to know, because…

The knight suddenly brandished his sword and rushed at the massive dragon.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

For an instant, the heavens and earth shook. Dust and sand flew as the world was submerged in chaos.

Only the knight’s shouts cut through the air, transmitting into each and every crevice.

Luke: Even though – even though there’s no way you can hear this right now…

Luke: But, I’m sorry… I’m sorry!

Luke: I’m sorry for leaving you all alone for these eight years. I’m sorry for letting you face the dragon yourself after the eight years.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Do you know how scared I was when I returned to the village, yet didn’t see you at all…

Luke: I was scared that I would never see you again. I was scared that I couldn’t save you…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Let me see you again, alright?

Luke: Even one instant, one second is enough!

Bang--!

After an enormous sound of collision, the young man was knocked through the air onto the ground, sliding to a faraway cliff, to the very edge.

But this time, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to stand again.

Luke: …

Luke: Does it… all end here…

Luke: But I… you…

Boom—

A downpour of rain suddenly started.

Part 5

A downpour suddenly started.

Rain struck against the ground audibly, falling on the young knight’s body, flowing towards where the blood and water had accumulated.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Am I just… going to lose like this?

The knight couldn’t control his gasps.

Luke: But…

Luke: I still… can’t bear to give in.

Luke: I still haven’t found her… I still haven’t seen her… I …

His voice was full of an unrestrained frustration and helplessness.

He tried, or even forced, himself to keep his heavy eyelids open.

Luke: …

Silence suddenly descended.

It seemed like the rain had weakened, and a small sound was resounding through the air.

Luke: !!!

The knight suddenly opened his eyes wide.

Luke: Is that you?! Is that you, MC?!

He struggled, reaching out into the emptiness.

The black mist suddenly surged over from all directions, winding around the knight’s hand, as if in a gentle “embrace”.

The knight suddenly smiled.

Luke: Are you trying to comfort me?

Luke: Mhmm, I’m not scared. Whether they’re happy things or painful things…

Luke: I don’t care about any of that anymore.

He slowly stood his sword upright, staggeringly standing up.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: I will… keep going until the final moment…

Luke: MC, you are my strength, and I will fight for you until the end of my life.

Evil Dragon: …

The dragon’s movements suddenly stopped.

It looked at the human in front of it without moving in the slightest, and it seemed as if a light had flashed in its terrifying eyes.

Luke: …

Luke: Now!

The knight brandished his sword for the last time, stabbing it deeply into the heart of the dragon.

This time, the dragon did not struggle nor attack back. It remained in its spread-winged posture as it toppled with a boom.

The turbid blood flowed out from the wound, and soon, its breathing stopped completely.

Luke: H-has it ended?

The knight slowly walked up to the dragon’s corpse. After repeated confirmations, he released a sigh, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden.

Luke: Next… I just need to find the dragon’s treasure chest to find you. Wait for me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle Interior

The knight pushed open the door to the castle.

Just as the fortune-teller said, there was a treasure chest placed in the centre of the large room.

Luke: …

He knelt with one knee to the ground, brushing off the dust on the chest.

The moment he opened the chest saw what was inside, he displayed a shocked expression.

Luke: This is…?

A mirror inlaid with ruby sat quietly on the top of the chest.

The knight reached out with both hands, carefully holding the item in front of him.

Luke: Isn’t this the one you usually use…

Luke: Ah!

Suddenly, the gem on the mirror flashed with a dazzling light.

As if induced, the ruby on the hilt of the longsword beside the knight started to shine too.

They shone together, blindingly bright.

Luke: …

Amidst the light, multiple images gradually appeared in the mirror, like a light carousel—

Luke: !!!

In that familiar village, the young woman suddenly lifted her head as she trimmed the plants, her scissors falling onto the ground.

Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Tears slid down her face, finally vanishing.

Luke: !!!

She then left the village on a journey. She walked to all the ends of the world, as if in search of something.

She traversed deserts and snowy mountains, wearing out pairs and pairs of shoes, and her originally fair skin gradually became rough.

But on her face, all there was, was day after day of ever-increasing defeat and pain.

Luke: No… I’m here, I’m still alive! I’m right here!

Finally, she arrived at this castle.

Seeming like she’d lost all hope, she collapsed on the found. Tears and blood fell, droplet after droplet, on the ruby of the mirror’s upper part.

Then, a light suddenly flashed, and the girl in the mirror vanished.

The black mist filled the mirror, and a vicious dragon flew out of the castle.

Luke: !!!

The knight’s entire body trembled.

He dropped the mirror and sprinted out the door, as if he had gone mad.

Luke: No… not possible… no way… it can’t be…

Luke: How could you have been the dragon?! No way, I couldn’t have killed you…

At some point, the storm had started to rage again.

The figure of the dragon had already vanished. What replaced it was a figure that the knight was as familiar with as could be.

Luke: No way… why…

Luke: Why!!!

He held the girl’s corpse in his arms, then howled in despair like a wild animal.

The girl’s body was as covered in wounds as the knight’s was.

The rain struck their bodies, rushing frigidly over each of their wounds, as if mocking them.

Luke: No, no way…

Luke: This isn’t real… this isn’t real…

Luke: MC--!

The knight held the girl tightly. His throat was already raw, and all the light had left his eyes.

Luke: Is that why you stopped right then? Did you recognize me?

Luke: Why didn’t you escape? Why did you wait for me to kill you?

Luke: Please open your eyes, alright, answer me!!

Luke: Why?! Why?!

Luke: Ah--!!!

The rain descended in torrents, finally trickling down to the ruby, which had lost all its shine.

Part 6

The storm raged, and the knight’s heartrending cries never once stopped.

The air distorted for an instant. Right after, the fortune-teller stepped out from nothing, walking up to the sobbing Luke.

Fortune-Teller: Pitiful Sir Knight, you still ended up at this point.

Luke: !!!

Luke: It’s you… it’s you!

Fortune-Teller: It is indeed me, Sir Knight, the one who pointed you down this path.

Luke: Pointed me down this path… right, you know everything!

Luke: Let me ask you, did you already know that she was the dragon?!

Fortune-Teller: Yes, I know everything.

The fortune-teller looked at the young man, her voice gentle and tantalizing.

Luke: Then why did you have me find it - have me kill her?!

Fortune-Teller: I had you kill her? That’s quite an unfair accusation.

Fortune-Teller: I am a mere fortune-teller. All I can see is an established truth.

Fortune-Teller: This is her and your fate – you two are destined for an ending of death.

Luke: !!!

Luke: No way! What fate, what ending – I don’t believe any of it! There must be a way to save her!

Luke: I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep looking. I will definitely find it. I will definitely find it!

The young man clutched at the corpse in his arms and forced himself to stand.

The ground was slippery. He fell one time after another, yet he stood again, one time after another.

Fortune-Teller: …

The fortune-teller stroked the crystal ball, looking at the girl who was gradually getting colder in the rain.

Fortune-Teller: There is a way that might be able to save her, but…

Luke: What is it!

The young man shouted hysterically, but his voice was already so hoarse that he was nearly incoherent.

The fortune-teller paused, then looked at him again, her lips curving slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Simple. Make a deal with the devil, using your life.

Luke: …Deal?

Fortune-Teller: Indeed. As long as you offer your heart, she will be able to live again.

Fortune-Teller: But she will lose all memories of you…

Fortune-Teller: Perhaps she will love someone else and live a happy life, or perhaps…

Luke: What do I do?

The knight cut her words short.

Luke: Can you bear witness to the contract?

Fortune-Teller: … Of course.

Luke: Tell me what I need to do. We start immediately.

Fortune-Teller: … Alright.

The knight’s resoluteness far exceeded the fortune-teller’s expectations. After a simple explanation of the ritual, he finished his preparations.

Fortune-Teller: Will you not say any last words to her?

The fortune-teller placed the crystal ball in front of her, looking towards the silent knight.

Luke: …

The knight lowered his head, looking at the girl in his arms.

Luke: I never would have thought that our last meeting would be like this…

Luke: But at least you can continue to live…

The corners of the knight’s mouth lifted with difficulty. He reached out, pushing aside a lock of hair aside on the girl’s face.

Like a deep, yet wordless, farewell.

Luke: There are some things that I didn’t have the time to say before, but it shouldn’t be too late to say them now…

Luke: I…

The knight closed his eyes.

He slowly lowered his head, solemnly and gently kissing the hair of the girl in his arms.

Luke: Goodbye, MC. I pray that your life from today onwards will be happy and joyful.

He looked at her face, looking as if she were in a deep slumber, and said this to her for the very first and very last time—

Luke: I love you.

Right after he spoke, he stabbed his sword into his chest.

Bright red blood covered the marks that had dried on the sword. Thunder boomed as rain fell in torrents.

His heartbeat’s sound gradually stopped.

Fortune-Teller: …

Fortune-Teller: Hahahaha, hahahahaha—

The fortune-teller suddenly burst into laughter.

A black mist gradually wrapped around her. Her body and clothes changed form, finally turning into the form of a witch.

Witch: Hahahaha, what fate, what ending, what deal with the devil? Utterly foolish, truly, ridiculously foolish!

Witch: Although… thank you both. I found this drama quite the satisfying watch!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

MC: …

My consciousness gradually awakened.

MC: Luke! Don’t do anything stupid!

MC: She’s obviously doing this deliberately! Don’t get tricked by her!

I tried my best to call out his name, yet I anxiously noticed that I could not even make the slightest of sounds.

MC: Luke!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke’s Home, Third Floor

*Tira’s note: The date itself said it was the second floor, but his living quarters (the background shown) are on the third floor, not the second.

MC: Luke!

I sprung awake from my dream.

And because of this tiny movement, Luke instinctively popped off the sofa, standing upright on the floor.

I lifted my head and looked hazily at Luke, and my consciousness gradually returned to reality.

MC: …

Luke: …

We looked wordlessly at each other for a few seconds, then couldn’t help laughing together.

Then, Luke gently sat back down beside me.

Luke: What happened? Did you have a nightmare?

MC: Mhmm…

As I gave an affirmative, I moved my body a little, realizing that my arms and legs had become a little numb. My chest also felt somewhat stuffy.

MC: (Huh, was I sleeping in a weird pose? I don’t think so…)

Just as I was thinking, Luke started to rotate his shoulders too.

Luke: Why are my arms this sore all of a sudden… I’m sure that I slept pretty well…

MC: …

Luke: Huh? What’s the matter?

MC: I figured it out…

Luke: What?

The only reason why our arms were so sore… probably was because Luke was holding me the whole time while we had an afternoon nap.

MC: (So that nightmare… probably also happened because of this…)

I felt both a little frustrated and amused, and seeing Luke’s dubious expression, I couldn’t help laughing aloud.

Luke: What’s the matter?

MC: Nothing, I just hadn’t woken up completely from my dream yet.

Luke: Alright, you’re fine now. I’m here with you.

Luke: If you’re still scared, then should I sing a song for our great lawyer?

MC: Sure!

I knew Luke was just teasing me, but I felt like either way, it would be pretty nice to listen to him sing for me again.

Luke: Then sit comfy first.

MC: Mhmm.

I shifted over a bit, and Luke sat down beside me, covering us up again with the blanket.

Then, he gently wrapped his arms around me.

Luke: Then, what does the great lawyer want to listen to? Twinkle Twinkle again?

MC: Yep!

I looked up at him, and then Luke started to tap my shoulder like a metronome as he began singing.

Luke: Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Luke: How I wonder what you are…

MC: …

As Luke sang, my emotions gradually calmed down.

Amidst this relaxation, I couldn’t help thinking of the scene in that dream again.

MC: (A ten-day eclipse… man, the weird stuff I come up with.)

MC: (Did the earth stop spinning or did the sun just check out of work? So ridiculous…)

MC: (Plus, how could Luke be tricked by someone like that…)

MC: (Although…)

Though that was what I was thinking, I still knew…

Just like the knight in my dream, the love and protection Luke gave to me was always that silent, yet so etched into his very being.

But unlike the dream, we were now walking towards a happy future together.

I would hold his hand tightly, and I would never let go.

MC: …

The afternoon sunlight pervaded the room, and a slight breeze blew past. Everything was as great as always.

On the storage cabinet on the side, the mirror and sword model were stacked together. Under the sunlight, the rubies flashed faintly.

They looked somewhat familiar.

Phonecall

Hi! Good morning, are you up yet?

Ah… I bought a medieval-themed game that looks really interesting, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to play it together.

This game also has dual-player co-op mode. We can hit new game records together, just like in the past.

The game plot? Seems like a knight went on a quest to slay a dragon to find his missing lover.

I feel like this story’s pretty remarkable, and the animations done for the fights with the dragon in the middle were done really realistically…

Huh, what’s the matter? Why do you have such a pained expression on?

You don’t want to play this game… why? Does the plot make you feel uncomfortable?

Huh?! You had a nightmare with the same plot? And the main characters were you and me?! And we didn’t even get a good ending?!

Pfft… silly, it’s just a dream, don’t take it to be real.

Plus, doesn’t everyone always say that dreams and reality are the opposite?

You saw a bad ending, which means that we’ll have a good ending. So don’t be afraid, it’s all fine.

Hm… if you still don’t feel at ease, then how about we work together to beat this game?

I’ll prove to you that we’ll definitely reach the Happy Ending!

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #luke pearce #未定事件簿 #tot spoilers #tot luke #suffering whiplash and sugar #the xia yan fan experience

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

someone i once knew : b.b

bucky is left alone in the compound whilst the rest of the avengers are sent on a mission. yet, to bucky’s surprise he isn’t alone as he’s about to meet tony’s new assistant and someone from his past. (3.4k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

“You sure you’ll manage on your own?” Steve asks as he walks alongside Bucky.

Bucky quirks a brow at his oldest friend. “What, you don’t trust me?” He quips back, hearing Sam let out a dry laugh from the quinjet as he helps load the last of the supplies. “He doesn’t get an opinion.” Bucky adds, and Steve chuckles under his breath.

“I do trust you, Buck. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay being on your own here.” Steve explains, crossing his arms as Bucky buries his hands into his jacket pockets.

It was going to be Bucky’s first time being completely alone in the compound. Everyone else was required for a mission, and Bucky simply wasn’t needed this time. Initially, it stung a little- that Sam was going over him, but some downtime never hurt anyone, right?

“I’ll be alright, Steve.” Bucky states as Tony emerges from the elevator, huffing loudly as he looks at his phone.

“Oh, tin man? Do me a favour and don’t scare my new assistant,” Tony calls out, and Bucky looks to Steve who simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Since when did you hire an assistant?” Steve asks, and Tony stops beside them, locking his phone as he puts it into his pocket.

“Since I lost the last one,” Tony retorts.

“You married your old assistant, Tony.” Bucky comments and Tony simply rolls his eyes.

“Just, don’t scare her off, she has potential.” Tony remarks before carrying on toward the Quinjet, leaving Steve to bid farewell to Bucky.

Stepping back, Bucky rolls on his heels. “Guess I won’t be completely alone after all.” Bucky huffs. It is one thing to be alone in the compound with one of the other Avengers, but someone he hasn’t even met yet, that’s a level of confidence and comfortability he has yet to reach.

“Hey,” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine, just be your charming self.”

“I think he died back in the forties, pal.” Bucky mutters as he shrugs it off, it’s only for a few weeks at most.

“Just, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says softly as he steps back from Bucky, turning around toward the Quinjet.

Shuffling on the spot, Bucky watches as they leave. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky mumbles to himself as he walks back into the compound, wandering whereabouts his company for the next few weeks is hiding out.

It had been a quiet few days and Bucky had still yet to meet the newest addition to Starks team and started to wonder if Tony was messing with him for the fun of it.

At least, he thought as much until he was training in the gym when the faint sound of the piano caught his attention.

Pausing his work out, Bucky couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the better of him as he exits the gym, hearing a familiar melody clearly coming from the shared living space in the compound.

As stealthily as possible, Bucky enters the open space and can make out a figure sat at the usually absent grand piano. Tony purchased it a year ago to fill the space, even though no one could play, it did work in making the compound look somewhat homely.

Stepping further into the room, Bucky knew the song, his Mother always played it on her radio and witnessed her and his Father dancing to it.

Humming the tune, you remain oblivious to the company creeping into the room as you remain concealed by the bonnet of the piano.

“Wake and dream medley?” Bucky speaks up, and you jump in your seat, hitting the keys of the piano causing an awful blunt sound to echo in the open space. “Sorry,” Bucky adds, now retreating into himself as you remain hidden. “I, I could hear you from the gym, I love, loved that song.”

“No need to apologise,” You chuckle, and Bucky tenses upon hearing your voice.

It sounds so familiar, too familiar for his liking.

Rising to your feet, you rub your hands together before closing the bonnet of the piano, now in full view to Bucky who can feel his whole body shutting down.

Bucky steps back in disbelief, clinging onto the sofa behind him with all his might as you hesitantly step forward. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Stark had me doing a fair bit of paperwork so I’ve been holed up in my suite for the past few days.” You explain, but Bucky can’t seem to meet your gaze. “I’m Y/n,”

You extend your arm, holding your hand out to Bucky who stares in disbelief.

“Is this some kinda cruel joke?” Bucky questions, slowly looking up at your confused expression. “Y/n, is it really you?” He stares at you, but your confusion only deepens as you lower your arm back to your side.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but Bucky continues to eye you with evident shock. “Have we met before?”

A dry laugh leaves Bucky’s lips as he straightens himself up. “Do you not know me?” His voice is breaking as you shake your head, and Bucky can feel the moment of relief in his heartbreak once again.

“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken with someone else?” You nervously laugh, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Bucky simply nods and straightens himself up. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And I do apologise for that, you just remind me of an old friend.” Bucky brushes it off, knowing it’s not possible, it just can’t be.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Bucky,” You tell him with a smile, one that Bucky once knew and loved, but he forces himself to remove that thought, it isn’t her. “the song I, I guess it was from your time?” You ask, moving back over to the piano and opening the bonnet.

“Yeah,” Bucky walks over, leaning against it as you take a seat, resuming the melody as if you had never paused. “I remember it growing up. How come you know it?”

Your fingers glide over the keys effortlessly and your eyes close for a moment. Whilst they’re closed, Bucky takes the chance to look at you properly, noting your distinct features, identical to the girl he once knew.

“I’m not sure,” You admit, lifting your fingers from the keys as you glance up at Bucky. “I, I just do.” Your brows furrow together, and Bucky notes how you look back at the piano.

“Well, it’s a nice song, so thank you for playing it.” Bucky speaks up. “I’ll be around, so I’ll be seeing you.” He mutters before exiting the room and rushes back to the gym, barely hearing you saying goodbye.

Once Bucky is gone, you look back at the piano. There’s no sheet music, but you knew the song, you knew the exact keys to play and the words as you hummed along.

There was something about Bucky, something amicable and undeniably so. You could feel it in the back of your mind, a nagging sensation to remember, remember something, anything. Yet, as always nothing follows through.

You and Bucky had been living in the compound for an entire week, and you had only come across him three times in total. The first at the piano, the second was after an attempted run; Bucky watched as you reentered the compound soaking from head to toe after being caught in a rainstorm. You tried to make a joke, but Bucky merely grumbled and walked off in the opposite direction. And the third well, that was this morning.

The smell of burnt toast woke you up, and you rushed from your suite to the shared floor where the kitchen is located.

“Stupid toaster,” Bucky groans under his breath as he throws the toast into the bin, slamming the lid shut with his metal hand, nearly leaving an indent.

“You alright there?” Your voice is so soft, and Bucky can feel the tension between his shoulders ease.

Lifting his metal arm up, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just got distracted.” He shrugs as he turns around to look at you in your pyjamas, just a t-shirt and joggers. A lot more casual than the girl he remembers in the forties.

“Happens to the best of us,” You joke, moving past him to grab a mug. “want one?” You hold a second mug up, and Bucky nods.

He remains quiet as you pour him a cup and slide it across the counter to him. “Look alive!” You call out, and he grasps it firmly.

Silence falls between you both as you look over your shoulder to see Bucky holding the mug in his metal fingers, a distant gaze over his eyes. “Real smooth, Y/n.” Bucky eventually speaks up, followed by a short laugh as he raises the mug to his lips.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit, now leaning against the counter.

Laughter fills the bar as soldiers pass through with open arms and cheers for a new day. “Hey, look alive!” You yell as you slide across a bottle of beer to the brunette soldier.

“Thanks, Y/n.” His bright blue eyes focus on yours as he winks before patting his blond friend on the shoulder and walks closer toward you, yet the closer he gets, the more blurred he becomes. “Y-”

“Y/n?” Bucky calls out, snapping you from your thoughts. “You in there?”

“Sorry,” You look up from your mug, forcing a small smile. “got a bit lost in my head for a moment.” You mutter. “I, I’m going to go get ready.” You sip at your coffee and head out from the kitchen, leaving Bucky perplexed as he hears you running and swearing from in the hallway towards the elevator.

So, your encounters with Bucky haven’t exactly been the best. Yet, there’s something about him that you’re drawn to but scared of. His cool exterior doesn’t intimidate you, you know his history, you know all of the Avengers’ history. However there is a part of you that feels like you know Bucky somehow on a deeper level than what you've read in his files.

Rushing through your suite, you gather the necessary files before heading out to the elevator. You knew you shouldn’t have left it to the last minute to get the meeting scheduled.

As the metal doors open, Bucky steps aside, his blue eyes focused on his feet. “Which floor?” He asks.

“Two, please.” You respond, and silence ensues over you both.

It was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to not see the Y/n he once knew in you, this version of her or a copy. You twitched your nose the same way when you laughed, your hair smells like vanilla and you add small quirks to the same words.

“Y/n, do you ever have the feeling that you’ve met someone, in a previous life?” Bucky asks out of the blue, taking you by surprise.

“I, er,” You stumble over your words as you reach level two. “I’ll get back to you on that one, Bucky.” You tell him before exiting the elevator and carry on rushing to the conference room for your meeting with Pepper.

“Thought as such.” Bucky sighs as the doors close, leaving him alone with his memories of you once more.

“What’re you doing up here? You’ll freeze!” You laugh giddily as you wrap your arms around yourself, seeing Bucky sat with a blanket draped over his shoulders despite the early spring chill.

“I’ve endured worse, doll.” It rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, his treasured nickname for his girl.

Yet, you smile at the nickname, swearing you’ve heard it before. You contemplate a response, but leave it and walk closer, sitting beside Bucky.

“So, what are you doing up here? Am I that bad?” You nudge him playfully and without a second thought, Bucky lifts the blanket up, allowing you to curl into the soft fabric for much-needed warmth.

“You never could be, Y/n, trust me.” Bucky sighs sadly as he looks up to the stars, aware of you studying him closely, your eyes burning into each of his features. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted a little off this past week, I, I’m still adjusting to well, everything.” Bucky tries to ease his growing nerves as you scoot closer, the fragrance of your perfume encroaching into his nostrils like old times.

“You’ve been just fine, Bucky.” You reassure him as a faint smile forms on his lips.

“I’d know if you’re lyin’ to me, doll.” Bucky turns to face you, kneeling down as you cross your arms playfully, refusing to speak up. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice.” He mutters, and before you can react his hands grab your hips and he starts tickling you senselessly.

“Calm down, soldier!” You laugh happily. “Will you stop?!” You breathe out as his hands rise further up from your waist, pausing as he holds your face, smiling smugly to you, knowing you were truly hooked.

“So, I was just fine then, doll?” Bucky raises a brow as you nod, his hands bringing you closer as he breathes out a sigh into your lips. “Well, I guess I’ve got a few things to work on.”

“That you do mister.” You mutter before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as hollers from across the road sound, and the faint call of your name interrupts you once more.

“Y/n?” Bucky nudges you, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You went all quiet on me for a minute.” He half laughs, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head.

“I, I’m not.” You admit, letting the tears fall. “I, you asked me earlier about feeling as if you’ve met someone in another life,” You trail off, seeing Bucky nod.

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, feeling the remaining strings attached to his heart hoist it up, hoping they won’t fray at this final attempt. “it was dumb, I know.” He brushes it off.

“No, it’s not.” You tell him defiantly. “I, I keep having these memories of sorts, but I can’t make out any faces.” You rub your eyes. “Every day there’s this nagging sensation to remember something, to recognise someone I believe I knew, like there's this guy and I think he's someone I’m meant to know.” You explain, and Bucky can feel the restraints in his heart tightening, the cogs in your brain now turning.

“I know the feeling,” Bucky comments. “when HYDRA had me, they wiped my mind of everything, any memories of my life before and brainwashed me into their weapon. It’s kinda funny really, it was all still in there, and it slowly started to come back.”

“How did you know which memories were real?” Your voice softens as you home in on his blue eyes, watching as they twitch under your gaze. “Like, which weren’t misconstrued.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just, I do.” He murmurs. “So, this guy, what’s he like?” Bucky changes the subject as a smile forms on his lips as you laugh lightly.

“I wish I knew,” A light shiver crosses your body, and Bucky pulls the blanket off of him, wrapping it around you. “he’s just, this amazing guy who, who is funny, and caring. I have these snippets of what I believe was our life together, but it doesn’t make any sense.” You ramble, trying your best to comprehend everything.

“Take your time.” Bucky reassures you.

“These ‘memories’ I’m having, they take place in the past- that much I know. But I know my life, I know the year I was born, I have memories of my childhood and I know my family.” You explain, feeling your eyes welling up with tears as your frustration and confusion increases. “How can I have memories of a life I’ve never lived?”

"Maybe you can." Whistling into the breeze, Bucky shuffles and turns to face you. “Try and focus on one detail, okay? Do you trust me?”

You search his eyes for any uncertainty, and you nod in response.

“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.

“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.

“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.

“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.

“Thanks, Bucky." Silence falls between you both, stifling the cool air. "I, I better go in before I catch a cold.” You rise to your feet, removing the blanket and hand it back to him. “Can’t have Mr Stark complaining about me coughing senselessly on a conference call.” A light laugh escapes your lips as you wave to Bucky before heading back inside.

As the door closes behind you, Bucky blankly stares out at the sky. “Oh, doll.” Bucky pleads to the stars. “Please remember.”

Now back on your floor, tears freely cascade down your cheeks as you sob into your hand, barely able to reach your door before you fall to the ground. “Come on,” You cry, feeling snippets of memories colliding together of the childhood you knew versus one you don’t recall, two boys by your side at all times.

Forcing yourself to your feet, you shut the door to your suite behind you, hearing laughter echo in your mind.

“Steve! Stop, I need to keep my dress clean!” You plead, looking down at the splashes of mud coating the hem of your dress.

“I warned you, punk.” Bucky sighs, hitting Steve over the back of the head with the newspaper. “You still look beautiful, Y/n.” Bucky winks to you, watching as you roll your eyes in response.

“Thanks, James.” You mutter, ignoring the burning of your cheeks as you reach your front steps. “I’ll see you boys later, seven still good?” You ask, looking between the pair as they nod. “Okay, well, don’t get in too much trouble without me.” You chuckle before turning on your heels and head up the front steps, unlocking your front door as the radio plays faintly.

“James?” You whisper to yourself, rushing over to the nearest mirror. “My name is Y/n Y/l/n. I am twenty-four years old. This is my home. My parents are Y/M/N and Y/D/N.” You recite, staring at yourself in the mirror. “This is who you are.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you step away from your mirror and fall into your bed.

“Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY calls out, and you quickly sit upright.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“Tony is calling you, would you like to answer?” The AI asks, and you groan into your pillow, it’s not like you couldn’t answer your employer.

“Sure, FRIDAY.” You reply, reaching over for your phone and answer the call from Tony. “Hey Mr Stark, how’s the mission going?” You feign positivity as you force a bright smile. Even if Tony cannot see you, the walls have eyes.

“Hey, Y/n, I told you before, call me Tony. We’re on our way back now, I just wanted to make sure the tin man hasn’t been causing you any trouble.” Tony asks, moving away from other voices in the background.

Your eyes rise to your closed door, picturing Bucky mere minutes ago by your side, trying to help you remember him, James Buchanan Barnes, your James.

“Jam-” You cut yourself off and move the phone away from your ear, allowing a moment to compose yourself for your boss. “Bucky’s been fine, I promise Mr, sorry, Tony.” You chuckle uneasily, but Tony doesn’t question it.

“Well good to hear, listen we’ll be back in an hour, and you can meet the rest of the team in the morning. Get some rest, Y/n.” Tony tells you and hangs up before you can respond, leaving you alone once more with the impending thoughts weighing heavy in your mind.

“This is who you are.” You repeat like a mantra as you lie back down in your bed, wishing tomorrow would never come.

P A R T T W O

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated--fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan@cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

Roommates – Part Ten

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,600

Warning: Angst, Pregnancy, Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

It was still rainy and stormy outside, but you didn’t care. You needed the fresh air on your face more than anything else right now as you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You walked besides the shore until, eventually, you found a sheltered area besides one of the old seaside castles where you sat down to think.

There was certainly a lot of thinking to be done and, eventually, you reached the conclusion that, what you should do now, is support your friend just as he had supported you following your breakup with James. Your friendship lasted for 12 years so far and now wasn’t the time to end it, nor was there any reason to do so.

But where did it leave you and the fact that you did what you swore to yourself you would never do. You had been intimate with Cillian and that, in your mind, was wrong now that you knew what you knew about Laura.

But why was it wrong, you then went to ponder on? What made it wrong, you wondered? Cillian and Laura were no longer together and, as far as you knew, Cillian never mislead her into thinking that he wanted a serious relationship with her. You knew it was a common theme and argument between them and, at least from his point of view, there were no feelings involved. So why shouldn’t you be with him now?

Of course, you realised fairly quickly that the reason that you should stay away from Cillian was Laura. She is your friend too and she is still hurt and wants him back, no matter how futile her desires and attempts to be with him might be. But does this mean you should deny yourself? After all, it’s been 12 years which it took you to get this far. It’s not that you had ever contemplated to sleep with Cillian, but you certainly were drawn to him now and, therefore, would you be a bad friend if you continued to be intimate with him?

Eventually, you reached the conclusion that the answer to your question was probably yes. Both, you and Cillian, found yourselves in a moral dilemma and, whilst you both slipped once and let your desires for each other get the better of you, it couldn’t happen again. That, of course, was unless the moral compass of the situation changed which made you wonder how it got so far in the first place.

***

When you arrived back home, you saw Cillian in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee and, whilst he acknowledged you, he was silent and waited for you to ask what you wanted to ask.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Laura is pregnant?’ you eventually blurted out, causing Cillian to sigh heavily.

‘Because I promised her that I would not tell anyone until she had her first scan’ Cillian explained almost frustrated.

‘She hasn’t had a scan yet? Cillian, uhm, this is a lot to take in’ you observed and he nodded.

‘Not as far as I know’ Cillian then huffed out, causing you to walk over towards him and grab hold of both of his shoulders.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t care what happened between you and I know said I would stay out of it, but she does need your support with this. You can’t just ignore the fact that you have a child on the way with her’ you said rather harshly, causing Cillian to break down in emotions.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing Y/N, eh?’ Cillian huffed out before one curse after another left his mouth.

‘She doesn’t fucking let me. I want to be part of the pregnancy and support her, not just financially but also emotionally. I want to be a father to this child but she just cuts me out. According to her, unless I get back together with her, I won’t be having any partake in this’ Cillian explained with a heavy heart as his eyes began to tear up.

‘Oh my god Cillian, I am sorry, I didn’t know’ you said surprised by Laura’s action before comforting him.

‘It’s alright. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wanted to stay out of it. I didn’t want to put you into this difficult position you are now in and I also knew that you had your own shit to deal with’ Cillian said, referring to your breakup with James.

‘Have you at least been able to communicate with her doctor? Or her? Anything at all?’ you then asked and Cillian shook his head.

‘No, nothing. I’ve been talking to her but she isn’t telling me much. She changes the topic and then goes on about all this shit that happened between us instead. I don’t even know how far along she is. I tried to get her in with a good obstetrician at Rotunda Hospital, but she hasn’t even made contact with the doctor nor is she registered at the maternity ward. I don’t fucking know what else to do and when I spoke to my lawyer about it, he told me that I can’t do anything until the child is born’ Cillian explained almost shattered.

‘Jesus Cillian…oh my god’ you said before asking him whether he knew about the pregnancy when he broke up with her and, as you had expected, he confirmed that he didn’t. But, little did you know that you just then and there opened up another can of worms.

‘She planned this Y/N, which makes it even more fucked up than it already is’ Cillian chuckled, unsure whether he should laugh or cry about the entire situation.

‘What do you mean she planned this?’ you asked curiously.

‘She had her implant removed without telling me, which is the real reason I ended it. I know she is your friend, but she’s fucking insane’ Cillian huffed out.

You were unsure what to make of Cillian’s comment and asked him to elaborate which is when he finally told you everything that you never wanted to know about their breakup.

According to Cillian, after the night him and Laura shared with Lindsay, which was something Laura organised, Laura became rather jealous and possessive.

Whilst there was no truth to it, Laura believed that Cillian was seeing Lindsay behind her back and that Lindsay was the reason he wouldn’t commit to her. The truth was that, according to Cillian, he never intended to commit to Laura because he simply didn’t think that this was what he wanted. At the time, his divorce with Danielle was going through settlement proceedings and committing to Laura was something that couldn’t do.

You recalled the arguments in the past and Laura pressuring Cillian to make a commitment which he outright told her he wasn’t willing to make.

‘Things had gone too far and she contacted my mother, introducing herself to her. She texted my sister and brother continuously, asking for my whereabouts when I was visiting Cork. She went through my phone checking for messages from other women. Things like that. It became relentless and she knew I was close to ending it. Little did I know that she had a plan in mind to make me stick around’ Cillian chuckled.

‘So, what made you think that she went off birth control behind your back? Did she actually admit to it?’ you then asked, causing Cillian to nod.

‘The bruise on her arm and the fact that the bulge from it under her skin was gone, gave it away. First, I didn’t think anything of it but when she did all this crazy stuff, I asked her about it and she admitted that she had, in fact, removed it. She wanted to make me stay by falling pregnant. How fucked up is that?’ Cillian then huffed out and you were shocked.

You didn’t expect that your friend Laura would ever do such a thing, going behind Cillian’s back to fall pregnant and make him commit.

Of course, after he’s been your friend for 12 years you believed him and he was quite obviously emotionally shattered by the situation.

‘So, when did you find out that she was pregnant?’ you wondered.

‘Two weeks later she texted me’ Cillian huffed out before continuing on. ‘She also texted Lindsay who then contacted me. After Laura had harassed her for weeks, she was obviously quite aware of the situation’ Cillian explained.

‘So, you decided to fuck her again? Not a smart move Murphy’ you laughed, causing Cillian to laugh as well.

‘Yeah, I think that was a mistake but I was in a pretty fucked up place at the time and Lindsay just stuck around and listened. I couldn’t really tell anyone else. Firstly, it’s fucking embarrassing and I still don’t know how I am going to explain this to any of my family. Secondly, I promised Laura and, despite of what happened between us, you know why I kept this promise right?’ Cillian said.

‘Yes, I do’ you responded, remembering the suffering Cillian’s ex-wife Danielle had to endure throughout 12 unsuccessful cycles of IVF and miscarriages, being the reason that her and Cillian never had any children together even after having been married for ten years.

With that in mind, you felt awful for your friend. You knew how much he wanted to have children for so many years and you realised that, despite his problems with Laura, he would probably be quite excited going through the pregnancy with her and be a father to his child if she would let him. He wanted to be involved and he wanted to be there for her, but he didn’t want to be with her.

‘Listen, I will talk to Laura, alright? I will try and convince her to let you be involved without forcing you to commit to her’ you suggested, holding onto Cillian’s hands.

‘You said that you won’t get involved in anything between Laura and me and I promised you to keep you out of it’ Cillian then said.

‘I know, but you’ve been my friend for 12 years and, after all the shit we have been through together, we will get through this too, right?’ you said with a warm smile.

‘Thank you. You are amazing you know that?’ Cillian said, finally smiling again.

‘I know’ you winked. ‘Despite, that’s just what friends do right? They help each other out’ you said with a warm smile before, without giving it another thought, giving Cillian a kiss.

Surprised, he gave into the kiss which was gentle and warm.

‘Is that what friends do too?’ he then chuckled when your lips drifted apart.

‘Only under the added benefit scheme introduced into solid friendships as part of this lockdown relief package’ you smirked before pressing your lips back onto his.

Your reservations had gone completely after talking to Cillian about what happened and, whilst you knew you that you were betraying your friend Laura, you found it difficult to sympathise with her at this very moment.

‘So, is this what you want then, despite everything that has happened?’ Cillian asked after you each caught a breath.

‘Yes, I think so. We both have needs and we trust each other, it just makes sense, right?’ you said in order to justify your decision and Cillian couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Makes total sense’ Cillian laughed before continuing on. ‘I learned from my mistakes Y/N and I was very careful with Lindsay, but not so careful with you last night because, apart from my family, you are probably the person I trust the most in this world. You are most defiantly on the pill though, right?’ Cillian asked somewhat concerned.

‘Oh please, Cillian. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t want to use you as a breeding bull’ you laughed, causing him to raise one of his eyebrows. ‘Yes, I am on the pill and never forgot a single one in over ten bloody years’ you then reassured him and, without any sort of warning, he crashed his lips back onto yours.

Your tongues met as he tangled one hand in the back of your hair, kissing you furiously.

‘I felt as though you held back last night’ you huffed out as your lips drifted apart. ‘Don’t hold back! Just fuck me!’ you then said, pulling him close again after he pulled his own t-shirt over his head while you removed yours.

‘I was just testing the waters Y/N’ he smirked before he pulled down your jeans eagerly while, at the same time, your hands went to his jeans and blessedly released his throbbing cock.

‘And I am not sure if I want you to see this side of me yet’ he then smirked, causing you to raise your eyebrows in return.

‘And what side is that Cillian?’ you giggled before whispering into his ear ‘show me your real kinky and filthy side.’

‘Soon, very soon’ Cillian then said before he kissed you again, hard and fast before both of you lost your jeans completely somewhere on the kitchen floor and Cillian lifted you up to sit on the kitchen table. He was much more forceful this time around and you quite enjoyed it.

Within one swift move, he unclasped your bra and thew it to the side before his hands rested on your breasts. You gasped as he shuffled down sufficiently to kiss each of them and close his mouth around a rigid pierced nipple. He pulled on it with his teeth and bit onto slightly, making you cry out.

At the same time, Cillian’s moved to in between your legs which were spread apart by his thighs as he was standing in front of you.

‘Fucking hell Y/N. What have you been thinking about, huh? You are fucking soaking’ he groaned as he observed that you were extremely wet already.

‘About you fucking me of course’ you giggled as Cillian brought his soaking wet fingers to your mouth.

‘Show me how fucking good you taste’ he instructed, making you taste yourself and you, of course, complied with his request and licked his fingers clean. But, when he watched you do this and felt your tongue piercing press against his fingers, he couldn't take it anymore.

‘Spread your legs wider’ he instructed as he pulled his hand away from your mouth and took hold of his rigid member, aiming it towards the dripping nirvana in front of him.

He knew he was rushing things, and as much as he wanted to take you, he couldn't if you weren’t ready. Your intense gaze held a mixture of the smirk and the desire.

‘Cillian, please shove your cock inside me already’ you then whined and, without a word, he plunged into you.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, you are so tight’ Cillian groaned while his eyes screwed shut as soon as your tight pussy had engulfed him, and he couldn't tell your groans apart from his own.

Good god, he felt amazing, so fucking amazing you couldn't move, completely paralysed with pleasure.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned eventually as he hovered over you, propped up against the table, his cock buried in your pussy and his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You could vaguely hear voices from the TV in the other room over the sound of your shuttering breath, but it had no more meaning than anything else in the world that wasn't currently inside of you. And that was Cillian.

‘Who would have thought that we would ever fuck, eh’ Cillian observed as he thrusted in and out of you, slow at first and then with increased speed and force, Cillian began to slightly pinch your nipples. That broke your paralysis and you wiggled and moaned in pleasure, making him fuck you harder and deeper. Cillian’s mouth eventually found your neck and ear as he began to pivot in and out of you, relishing just how tight and wet you were.

‘Crazy I know…but also so damn good’ you moaned his name and he picked up his pace again. You swore under your breath and Cillian slid a hand in between your legs to rub your clit and play with your clitoral piercing the way he had watched you do it before.

‘Fuck, that’s it, Cillian’ you moaned and then, you came, whimpering and shuddering, as Cillian watched the ecstasy pass through the delicate features of your face. He continued stroking you gently as you rode out your climax and only stopped when you gripped his wrist with your hand.

‘Too sensitive’ you huffed out, causing Cillian to smirk and, only when you pressed your hands against Cillian’s chest, he reluctantly pulled out of you.

But he wasn’t done with you yet and, before you knew it, he pulled you off the table and spun you around.

Willingly, you leaned forward, your face pressing against the hard wood of the kitchen table while you spread your legs widely, allowing him better access to your wet mound.

It didn’t take him long to line himself up with your entrance and, as the lips of your wet pussy parted to receive the head of his cock, he could hear you moan over the drumming rain outside. You immediately pushed back against him, forcing him inside of you a little deeper.

‘That’s it, push back against my cock’ Cillian instructed as he loved seeing your figure arched with pleasure before him and his cock buried inside you. What on earth was he missing out on for twelve years, he wondered?

The first loud rumbles of the thunder outside drowned out the first fleshy slaps of his thighs against your ass as he started to pump himself in and out of the wet grip of your pussy. The feeling of pleasure on his cock was so exquisite that for a moment he could not contain the urge to pound you harder.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck me’ you moaned as he thrust deeper and faster into you, enjoying the feel of you hungrily pressing against him.

‘You like being taken like this don’t you? Pinned down and fucked hard?’ Cillian groaned as your moans had become loud enough now to be heard over the storm raging outside.

‘Yes, oh god yes, Cillian, please don’t stop’ you screamed out as you could feel another orgasm building as he pumped away.

By this point, Cillian’s cock was also screaming for release and you crying out beneath him didn’t help his urge to cum.

‘Harder’ you cried out and Cillian began to piston into you with rapid sharp strokes. You dug your nails into the table to brace against the pounding as Cillian drilled you as hard as he could.

Just as he continued to thrust in and out of you, he reached one of his hands between your legs to massage your clit again. The hard slap of his body against your tight ass was loud and he felt the sweat prickling on his body. The scent of your sex was filling the kitchen and, before long, your moans turned to gasps and little sharp cries of pleasure and Cillian felt your body shudder against his as you came.

‘Oh god Cillian, yes fuck, yes’ you shouted out as your second orgasm washed over you and you indulged in the pleasure he gave you by calling out his name.

‘Jesus Y/N, fuck’ Cillian groaned as his balls tingled with his own building climax. Cillian pulled you back into him by the hips and thrust as deeply into your pussy as he could as the first waves of his orgasm broke.

The eruption was intense. The spasms of pleasure were joined with the satisfying feeling of spurts of his semen flooding deep into your body. He kept pumping, though now slowly, even after the pulsing in his crotch subsided.

You sighed your contentment. The feel of your pussy milking the last drops from his now hyper-sensitive cock was delightful torture and Cillian groaned almost in agony.

You giggled and lifted your body up and, as you did so, Cillian’s cock slipped free of the embrace of your pussy.

‘So fucking sexy, leaking all my cum from your pussy’ Cillian then observed as he ran one of his fingers through your mound again, collecting some of his semen before guiding it up to your mouth.

‘Hmm, I like the way you taste. Took me only 12 years to find out’ you grinned as you suggestively licked his cum from his fingers.

‘I didn’t ever think that this would actually happen, seeing my cock inside you’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Tell me about it’ you said before giving Cillian a quick kiss. ‘By the way, nice dirty talk, I like it’ you then smirked, being rather surprised by your friend’s dirty vocabulary.

‘You’ve heard nothing yet’ Cillian said as he was getting dressed again.

‘Coffee?’ you then asked before walking over towards the coffee machine completely naked, wiggling your butt on full display.

‘Uhm sure, thanks’ Cillian laughed before putting his briefs back on and sitting down at the table while he watched you still somewhat in disbelieve.

***

After you got on with your chores and tasks for the day, you decided to finally call Laura to have this difficult conversation with her.

But, she didn’t pick up any of your calls and, instead, sent you a text message.

‘Can’t talk right now’ was all it said.

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#Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine

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potter-imagines · 4 years

Text

Chosen Sister (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: I had two Ginny idolizing reader requests so this is the first one! I can't find the exact request but the other will be posted during this coming week.

Warning: None (vv short sad part)

Word Count: 3.8k

“Give me back my girlfriend, Ginny. I heard that you’re holding her hostage.”

A loud chorus of knocks sounded out from Ginny Weasley’s dorm room. Dinner had finished an hour before and since the meal ceased, Fred had been searching the entire ground for you, his girlfriend. After about thirty minutes tracing your typical patterns and steps around Hogwarts, Fred ran into Angelina and Alicia who informed him of your whereabouts.

They happily explained to them that they saw Ginny dragging you away after dinner. The girls cooed to Fred about how adorable it was that his girlfriend hung out with his little sister, something Fred didn’t exactly view the same.

Fred Weasley checked your dorm room, the common room, the library, Hermione’s dorm, and finally Ginny’s room. As he trudged up the stone steps grounchily, his ears perked to a point at the ring of a voice that was tattooed in his heart. Your innocent, childlike giggle played like a melody in the empty stairwell.

Fred could feel the corner of his lip tugging up to a smile at the sound. That sugared chortle that he had heard millions of times before but somehow still felt his breath catch at the sound. Standing outside his little sister’s door, Fred’s annoyance was dissolving by your haromous voice echoing from the opposite side.

When Ginny failed to open her dorm up the first round of knock, Fred banged on the door again. Huffing in annoying, Ginny shot you a look, already knowing Fred was gonna scold her. She crawled off her bed and waltzed over to her door, taking her sweet time as she did. You couldn’t help the giggles that rumbled through your chest.

Swing the door open swiftly, Ginny glared at Fred with flames blazing in her eyes. If they weren’t related, he might’ve felt a hint of her wrath. But she was his little sister and not even at her angriest did Fred find her intimidating, not in the slightest.

Ginny Weasley was only thirteen yet her sass and feistiness was beyond her years. Growing up with only brothers probably played a hand. The young girl sent her brother a disgusted look then growled at him,

“I am not holding her hostage! For your information, Y/n happens to be my friend. Might sound surprising to you but she actually enjoys hanging out with me, Fred.”

Fred looked past his sister at the mention of your name. A smile lifted to his lips when he found you. You returned the gesture

“You’re right, that does sound surprising.” The snarky remark caused Ginny to furrow her face in a scowl. Lunging forward the youngest Weasley snapped for her older brother, although missed by a long shot.

“You’re infuriating, Fred!” She howled. Her face was turning red with every second that ticked by. If the situation had been different, you might’ve laughed. Getting between the Weasley siblings when they were arguing- that just wasn’t safe for anyone. Ginny’s aggravation was fuming from her pores as she sent you pleading looks to stay.

It was now that you took a look at the old wooden clock hanging on the way above her roommate's bed. The little hand was pointing to the six as the big hand was approaching eleven. The time seemed to fly by at light speed. You had promised to help Ginny hang up some lights in her room. She had wanted to decorate it just likes yours, as she practically admired anything you did. It made you feel special knowing Ginny looked up to you. You had never experienced it before so it was exciting- but also slightly pressurized- to know she was admiring you as a big sister.

Fred let out an exaggerated groan leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Can I please have my girlfriend back? You got your girl time in. Y/n promised to hangout with me tonight, so I’m rescuing her!” A cheeky wink was thrown your way as Fred walked further in the room, slowly sneaking up to you. The annoyed girl rolled her eyes then ignored her brother. She looked back at you and pursed her lips into a thin line. Ginny was too oblivious to notice his stagger but your attention remained set on him the entire time. You didn’t fight the smirk lifting to your lips as he inched closer, and closer until his feet were only steps from his sister’s back. It was then Ginny noticed the amused tint to your face but before she could bring it to light, Fred bent down in one fluid motion and gripped his hands on either side of your hips. As light as a feather he swept you up and quickly darted for the door, as to escape Ginny before she had the chance to retaliate.

“Wait- hey!” Fred slammed the large door then proceeded down the steps.

“Freddie, love, that wasn’t nice.” The giggles poured from your soul as Fred continued to carry you down the stairs, then took a sharp right, and started walking up the boy’s dormitory staircase. You rested your head against the blade of his shoulder, bobbing with every step he took. He was so handsome, even from the most unpleasant angels. His sharp features stuck out in the darkness, striking your heart. His arms cradled you while he laughed, “Oh shush, you didn’t try to stop me. Wasn’t exactly nice of you to just run off in the middle of dinner. You still have time to make it up to me, though.” The teasing arrogance didn’t go unnoticed. You laughed into the material of his sweater, clutching to his chest. The movement of his legs stopped and he softly leaned over to place you on the ground. Taking his wand out from his back pocket he unlocked his door and opened it up for you to walk in.

You stepped into the quiet room then turned to you boyfriend,

“George and Lee in?” You asked. The grin that rose to his lips was an answer enough. Fred closed the door behind him with a slam then jumped onto his bed with a flop. You watched him lay in the middle of the mattress, throwing his hands in a fold behind his head. He shrugged his shoulders and replied,

“Nope. Was there something in particular you had in mind of doing?” His mask of innocence wasn’t fooling either of you, but it was part of the fun. Keeping your eyes glued to his, you slipped the material of your robes off, leaving you in a white long sleeve button up and a small plaid skirt. You basked in the widening eyes of your boyfriend as he shifted on the comforter. His eyes raked over your body from your head down to your toes. You noticed his gaze particularly set on your exposed legs. Smirking to him you sauntered over to his bed and climbed in with him. His large hands found your bottom instantly. “I think you know, Freddie.”

Almost a week later, it happened again. Fred was scrambling around the Gryffindor common room asking every waking student if they had seen you. Most students were getting ready for dinner, some already there. George was waiting near the portrait watching curiously as his twin ran around the room from person to person. Even to George it was a bit strange no one had seen you, although as the hours dragged on he took into account the absence of his little sister also. George sighed to himself then kicked his leg into the wall, leaning back against the brick waiting patiently for Fred.

On the opposite side of the large room, the other half of the Weasley twins was talking to Lee Jordan, seeing if he had any valuable information. Lee, just like everyone else he asked, had no clue where you were. Right as his conversation with Lee was dwindling, the sigh of a curly haired girl caught Fred’s eyes and he abruptly excused himself from Lee and ran over.

As Fred reached Hermione, he gave her shoulder a line of taps,

“Hermione! Hey! Do you know where Y/n is? George said he saw you two in the courtyard this morning but I haven’t seen her all day.” Fred questioned the bright witch in a pleasing tone. She swiveled around and tilted her head to the side causing her frizzy hair to bounce like springs. Eyebrows knitted together, her lips scrunched to the side. Deep in thought she hummed to herself then answered,

“No I don’t at the moment, Fred, I’m sorry. I spent the morning with her and Ginny but I haven’t seen either of them since we left the library around lunch. That was hours ago, though. Maybe try checking Ginny’s room?” Hermione offered.

You had been studying most of the morning in the courtyard then in the library. Ginny and Hermione joined you, despite all three of you being in different years. Not that it came as much of a surprise, but Hermione helped you with your work without missing a beat. Where you were stuck for minutes, she had finished four questions ago. She was a brilliant friend to have, schoolwise and personally. You might be older than the young witch but Hermione’s advice was like no others so you loved having her around.

Fred shook his head and mumbled a ‘no’.

“That was the first place I looked. Don’t know where she is either. Did I do something? Y/n’s not upset with me is she?” The fear and worry in his voice soaked the air and Hermione gave him a gaze of bewilderment.

“What? She didn’t say anything to me about being mad at you and I’m sure she would’ve if she were. She seemed perfectly fine so I don’t think it’s that. Ginny was the one who seemed in a mood if anything.” She stated firmly. As close as the two of you were, you would have told Hermione if Fred angered you. You shared everything with her.

The towering boy nodded, eyes scanning the space behind Hermione. He was running out of places to check and people to ask. Hermione was his best bet next to Ginny and no one knew where Ginny was either which, for anyone capable of putting 2 and 2 together meant you and Ginny were more likely than not together somewhere.

“Thanks, Hermione. Let me know if you see either of them, please.” Hermione nodded and smiled kindly to Fred, then walked off to join Harry and Ron. Fred took off towards the portrait, yelling to George that he would be back shortly.

Leaving the common room Fred shut the painting behind him and made his way to the moving staircase. While standing on the middle step, he tried to think if he was a girl, where would he go? The bathroom? No, not for that long. A swim in the lake? Well, it was a few weeks out from winter so that was unlikely. Fred huffed as he hopped off the stairs on the fourth floor and walked towards the library. Passing by he noticed a group of Hufflepuff boys sitting around a table and Professor Pince shushing them furiously. He kept on past the library and made his way down a mostly empty corridor.

The clock was nearing five in the afternoon and it was definitely out of the ordinary for the two of you to go this long in one day without even passing by one another. Maybe you were in the common room. Just with his luck you would show up right when he left. As the thought seemed to be a possibility, the sudden sound of your familiar light, delicate voice, hit his ears. Halting completely, Fred peeked his head towards the staircase on his left where the noise came from.

“Y/n?” The inquiry came quietly. Fred half wondered if he had imagined it. No reply came to his question, but he did hear someone speaking again, a new voice he recognized as his little sister’s. Moving closer to the open, cobble stairwell, Fred suddenly stopped when he heard the shaky voice of his little sister and the sound of tears splashing against the hard ground.

“He doesn’t even notice me, Y/n! I’m practically invisible in his eyes… I hate it.” Ginny’s somber cries became louder as Fred stood just on the other side of the arch in the wall. He caught a small glimpse of the scene around the wall. On the bottom step, you and Ginny were sitting next to each other. Her head leaned on your shoulder as she sobbed sadly. It was a new sight- Fred was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Ginny cry since she was in diapers. Part of him wanted to beat the daylights out of whoever hurt his little sister, but he knew it would only cause more chaos for Ginny if he injected himself now. Fred was brought back to reality when your comforting tone reassured Ginny.

“Oh Ginny, don’t say that. He’s just stupid- boys are like that. I honestly don’t think he realizes what he’s doing.” Fred wondered who you were talking about. Did Ginny fancy someone? The sniffles of his sister shook the air. Her face left your shoulder as she buried it into the sleeves of her jacket. The material soaked up her salty teardrops and she forced herself to take some deep breaths in order to calm down. Just as her body stopped quivering, the thought entered her mind again and she remarked,

“He’s never gonna-”

Fred looked on in surprise as you leaned forward and pulled Ginny in for a tight hug. Your hand rubbed along her back, soothing the young girl. She rubbed her eyes constantly, the redness only worsening. Pulling away, you rubbed the drops away from under Ginny’s eyes and gave her a small smile,

“No, he will. I just think he’s got all this stuff with ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’ on his mind… but even if he doesn’t, then he’s not the one. You’re an amazing person, Ginny. Any guy would be lucky to have you but you’re too young to be heartbroken over a little boy. I don’t want you wasting your time being sad about boys when you should be having fun with me and your friends!”

“You really mean that, Y/n?” Her eyes lit in hopefulness. Ginny had quickly become a little sister of sorts to you. Seeing her upset, hurt, mad, anything, you felt it too. Although Ginny was young, only thirteen. You didn’t want her ruining herself chasing after a boy who wasn’t able to give her the time and attention she deserved. Being friends with Harry, your judgement told you that the poor boy most likely didn’t even catch onto the fact Ginny fancied him.

Chosen one? Yes. Oblivious one? Also yes.

On the other side of the wall, Fred’s heart was basically goop from the exchange. He messed with his sister, sure, but she was still his baby sister and it meant the world to him to see you, his girlfriend, so kind, and sweet to Ginny.

“I would never lie to you, Ginny.” You promised her.

“I should go wash up before dinner, I’m sure I look a mess! I’ll see you then, okay? And… thank you, Y/n. It means a lot to have you around and I don’t know, it’s cool to have you as a friend.” She reached forward and gave you one last hug. You grinned at her and said,

“Of course, Ginny. It’s cool to have you as a friend as well.”

Fred smiled to himself. He never realized just how much his sister looked up to you and it made him feel prouder than ever to call you his.

Not long later, Ginny rushed off down the staircase heading back for her dorm room. It had been hours since she’d return so it didn’t seem like the best choice to go missing for hours then show up for dinner with a blotchy face from crying. She wasn’t up for the questions and prying. You waved goodbye to her then sat for a few moments by yourself in silence. Well, at least you had assumed you were alone.

Right as your body began sinking in relaxation into the step, an entering pair of footsteps caused your eyes to snap open. Emerging from the open hallway outside the stairwell was a particular adorning red head you had grown to love so much. Fred stepped in through the arch and grinned at you. You were surprised by his presence, you had yet to see him all day, having spent most of it comforting Ginny, so you were taken aback that he was able to find you.

“Freddie! How did you find me?” You jumped up with a grin and threw your arms around Fred’s neck. His knees pulled him down from the force and his hands wrapped around your waist, accepting the embrace fully. Chuckling loudly Fred joked,

“Ah, so you were hiding from me!”

You sent him a narrowed look and pointed towards the direction where Ginny had retreated.

“No, no, I wasn’t hiding. Your sister needed me so I decided to be with her. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you-” Your apology was cut short by the feeling of Fred’s plump lips kissing yours. He kept the kiss short and sweet, just wanting to taste your lips. He went almost the whole day not seeing you so he wasn’t able to resist for much longer. You kissed him back, a bit more forcefully than Fred. His lips danced against yours, the action of snogging being second nature among you two. Fred pulled away slowly, his lips staying close to yours. Your foreheads were leaning against each other, smiles plastered on both your lips.

“That was maybe the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. You were so nice to Ginny, love. You didn’t need to do that.” He insisted in a whisper tone. Moving your forehead against his you explained,

“I wanted to, she’s my friend. I really care about her and… I don’t know, I’ve never had someone who looks up to me so, it’s kinda fun to know someone thinks I’m admirable.”

Glancing up, Fred’s eyes were already locked on yours. The warmth and homeiness of his honey pooled eyes pulled you in. Brown eyes never looked so perfect until you met Fred. Stepping up on your tiptoes, your hand secured itself along Fred’s jaw as you tugged him towards you. He parted his lips as you planted another kiss to his mouth. It was more of a peck, a tinny smooch leaving you to separate quickly. Leaning back into Fred’s arms, you basked in his hold. Never once did you ever feel exposed to danger when Fred had his arms clasped around you. It was impossible.

“That’s why I love you, you’re just perfect in every way. Everyday you find new ways to make me fall in love with you all over again...you’re too sweet, darling. Thank you for looking out for Ginny. It means a lot to me. Even if it means I have to share my time with you, which is just criminal, it does mean a lot.” His lips wasted no time scattering a mess of small, wet kisses along your face. No inch was left unkissed. You giggled wildly as he continued for a few moments. Planting one last kiss to your pursed lips, Fred stopped his attack and leaned back to smirk at you. Your laughter died out as you began to calm yourself. Smiling over to Fred, you reached for his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. “Of course, Freddie. I love you, babe.”

Lifting his hand, he rested his cheek on the skin of your hand. His face turned so he could press a faint peck to your hand, then he glanced up at you through his lashes.

“I love you too, darling. How bout we make up for all that lost time, hm?” That devilish, mischievous smirk you saw far too often had returned. Playing dumb you just chuckled,

“I was thinking the exact same thing, I was wanting some dinner too!”

“You know that wasn’t what-” You interrupted him, placing your pointer finger in the center of his lips creating a ‘shush’ gesture. He stared at you waiting for the next move. It was now you who held the bold smirk. You grasped Fred’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs so you could get to the Great Hall. His face fell in disappointment, clearly expecting a different turn of events. You didn’t leave him down for long when you batted your long lashes up at Fred and stated,

“Dinner first, then dessert after, okay?” It was the way you said it rather than the words themselves that did him in. That playful gleam that sparked in your eyes, he loved it.

Fred immediately felt his clothes, more specifically his trousers, turn tight at your words alone. He side eyed you as you skipped down the steps, unsure if you were the one teasing him now, or if you were being truthful. Narrowing his peer in seriousness, Fred tried to decipher the sickly sweet smirk on your lips. It wasn’t until you turned the tables, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of it, that he realized you weren’t joking. Eagerness took over as Fred locked his hand even more securely around yours and sped up his pace to the Great Hall. “Anything you say, love.”

He practically chased you the whole way to the dinning hall, your loud laughter filling the silence in the air. Your friends chuckled when they saw you two running in. You guys never seemed happier and it made all they ecstatic to see their friends finding love with each other. George waved the two of you over having saved a spot next to him for both of you. Fred escorted you to the opening, his hand never leaving yours even when you sat. For the rest of the meal, Fred’s hand rotated between your hand and your thigh, but never left your skin. And when Ginny sat down and smiled over at you, engaging you in conversation, Fred just squeezed your hand with a small grin, and pretended not to listen in. From then on, Fred only interrupted your hangout sessions to join in, and surprisingly, Fred Weasley was a great gossiper.

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