#He seemed very at peace with this ending? We had to explain that there were non-roadkill ways to die.
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OMG HI. Could youu pleease do a Matheo x reader. So the reader and Matheo are fake dating to make their parents happy or something? I would really like that because I LOVE ur writing!! I understand if u can't.
Faking it
(part 1)
Mattheo x reader
Summary: You and Mattheo pretend to date because your parents won't stop pestering you and girls won't stop falling over themselves to get to Mattheo
note: ignore the title its not very.........smart
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Mattheo asked putting his quill down and kicking his legs up onto the desk. History of Magic was the perfect time to sit and chat with your friends and catch up on missed gossip.
I shrugged "It's the ball tomorrow so probably getting lectured by my dear mother" A tradition since I was 12. To nag ask me to bring a date with me to the ball. This year was especially important because I hadn't brought anyone with me last year and my mother was not impressed.
Mattheo rolled his eyes "Please. You've got it easy"
I raised an eyebrow. What was he complaining about? "And what's troubling you so much?"
He sighed dramatically "All I here is everywhere I go is do you have a date for the ball? A guy can't even eat breakfast in peace"
I scoffed. He was always so unnecessarily dramatic.
"Well. Do you?" It's not like I was wanting it to be me, I was just genuinely interested. Curious. Not at all wondering who the girl was and what Matheo's standards and type was.
"Of course I don't. All the girls that come up to me are sluts who want me to take them to my dorm after"
I shrug "At least they have the confidence to ask. You'll be left with no one soon enough"
Mattheo rolled his eyes as if what I was saying was utterly ridiculous "There's always someone. And anyways I could always go with you"
I paused. The voices in the classroom had become a background noise in my mind. I looked at Mattheo, trying to see if he was making a joke out of all this. I could usually tell because of how his lips would always pull into a small smirk but this time he was utterly serious.
"Us two?" I asked. I don't know why I said that. Maybe it was to make sure I had heard him right.
"Yeah. It would get those girls off my back and your parents will probably be happy you've found a good looking guy like me"
I rolled my eyes, trying to act like this wasn't something I was excited about or wanted to do "Someone thinks highly of themselves"
Matheo's eyes had glazed over as if he was in deep thought about something. His hand was tapping his knee in a constant rhythm and his eyebrows were scrunched in concentration. It was quiet cute to watch, honestly.
"Y'know. My idea wasn't so bad."
I raise an eyebrow "Your ideas are always bad. Which one are you talking about this time?"
He moved closer to me so I could hear his quiet voice "Me and you. We could go to the ball together. Pretend to date for a while and then act like it didn't work out between us."
My heart beat's pace increased. Why was it increasing? I'd love to tell you but I didn't know either. Maybe it was the fact that I wouldn't mind getting closer to Mattheo. Or maybe the fact that I knew if I accepted his idea I would be heartbroken by the end of it.
"But once we break up I'm just going to have to find another guy" I tried explaining. I did want to go along with his idea but I didn't want to seem too desperate. Also I don't think my parents saw Mattheo as a great influence.
He rolled his eyes acting as if I was the dumb one "Just pretend your going through an emotional...breakdown or something. And by then you'll be able to find someone you like. It's not as if anyone would reject you" He said all this with a serious tone, as if he wasn't telling me to keep a lie going to my family but also probably break my heart in the process. I skipped over the last bit of what he said because if I thought of it for too long I would become obsessed with it and that probably wasn't a good idea.
"I'll think about it" I finally decided. I already knew what my answer was but I didn't need his ego to inflate even more...also because I had pride in myself and wasn't about to cave to on of his ideas so quickly.
*a few hours later*
"Why do you ask to play if you know your going to lose?" I asked Theo feeling slightly bad for him at this point. It was our fifth game of cards and he had lost all of them. He rolled his eyes "I'm helping pass time so you should be thanking me" It was just after our last lesson of the day and we were all in the common room or out in the gardens waiting for supper. Luckily exams weren't anywhere close so I could use this time however I wanted.
I smiled slightly at Theo's disgruntled expression "Right"
Handing out the cards again I picked up my pile and spread them out looking for a diamond. I picked out two debating on which one, choosing the nine of diamonds when I heard a slight noise behind me.
"I wouldn't go for that. I've seen Theo's cards and he's going to get you back if you put that nine down" It was Mattheo. He had taken a seat next to me on a stool having seemingly finished the shouting match he was having with Draco a few minutes ago.
I glared at him in annoyance "You've just told Theo what card I have!" Was he being deliberately annoying or did he not know how card games worked?
A slight smirk on his expression told me he was being irritating on purpose "Don't be mad at me darling. It was a mistake" He had gotten closer to me now his proximity too much for me. Luckily Theo caused a commotion by throwing his cards onto the table, me and Mattheo both turning to look at him.
"I'm not playing anymore. I've had enough of losing y/n" He said dramatically, getting up and sticking up his middle finger at Mattheo before leaving. What was wrong with everyone today?
Mattheo let out a sigh "Finally. Have you decided then?" His voice had changed to being serious within seconds, his teasing smile gone.
I knew what he was talking about but all the same I furrowed my brows and acted confused "decided what?" It was his turn to frown as he moved even closer to me "The fake dating thing? Your memory needs fixing sweetheart" He said quietly waiting for my response.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I couldn't look him in the eyes when he said names like that. Would saying yes lead to me having a broken heart and in a lot of trouble if my parents found out? Yes. But was I doing it anyways? Yes.
"My memory doesn't need fixing" I rolled my eyes but continued on "And fine I'll do it"
Mattheo grinned "Fucking finally" He got up and pressed a kiss to my cheek "I'll see you later. If anyone asks tell them your taken" He walked away out of the common room and to who knows where. I lightly touched where he had kissed my cheek. Was this going to be normal now? Him just kissing me any time of day? Not that I minded.
I looked around the common room to see a few girls in my year already walking over to me, raising their eyebrows. They were probably going to ask what the kiss was about and I'd have to tell them I was dating..... realisation hit me.
Mattheo hadn't kissed me because he wanted to but so the others could see and would come and ask me. He was smart. I would give him that but it did hurt my feelings slightly.
After a lot of explaining how me and Mattheo got together and lying for three hours straight I slipped into my bed earlier than usual, staring at my dress for the next night. It was a dark green almost the exact shade of our Slytherin robes except in silk. I turned to my other side wishing I hadn't eaten so much dessert because it still didn't seem digested to me. I could hear hooting in the distance, guessing it was probably other students owls, coming back or going out to send letters.
I had sent a letter to my parents just after dinner, telling them not to worry and how I had a date for the ball this year. I had re written the letter so many times, worried the expression when they read my words would make it obvious I was lying. After the fire had eaten up 4 parchments I finally sent the letter off hoping for the best. Pansy had ended up reading over my shoulder before I could stop her and had found out I was "dating" Mattheo. At first she was upset I hadn't told her. Her arms had been crossed and a permanent frown had been etched onto her face.
I couldn't lie to her so I eventually told her the truth, her eyes widening as I explained everything.
"I'm sure it'll be fine" She had said eventually. I hoped she was right.
The next day rushed by extremely quickly. It felt like I had just had breakfast but here I was waiting for my mother to show up. She had said she wanted to "meet me before she left for something extremely important in a different country"
She just meant she was going on holiday without me but I didn't mind. The last time I had gone all she did was talk about my grades and the clothes I was wearing or something else that annoyed me. I turned to Pansy who was starting to look at her nails in boredom.
"You should go. Start getting ready" I said to her. She was waiting with me, just inside the school gates. Pansy shrugged "I don't mind. You need support when your dear mother comes because Salazar knows you can't lie"
I crossed my arms even though I knew she was kind of right "I can. Listen I'll be fine, trust me. Go get ready"
Pansy hummed in thought "It does take me a while to do my eyeliner.....fine. See you, don't crumble under pressure" She blew me a kiss and walked back in leaving me to crack my knuckles repeatedly even though they were already cracked.
I couldn't even wait in peace because as soon as Pansy left I heard gravel crunch behind me and when I turned to look who it was, Mattheo's grin made me want to stop time. God he was gorgeous and he didn't even try.
"What are you doing here?" I asked as he stood next to me, his body heat reaching me at his close proximity. He raised an eyebrow a knowing smile on his lips "You can't lie to me forget lying to your own mother"
I huffed in annoyance. Why did everyone underestimate me? I mean they were right but still. And how could I lie to Mattheo when his chocolate eyes would make me melt in mere seconds? And how did he know what I was waiting for? Pansy must have told him on her way in.
Without warning my mother apparated in front of me before I could confirm what I was thinking. She was wearing smart wizarding robes. She had probably just come from work. Like usual she didn't hug me, just giving me a once over and then turning to Mattheo instead.
"So your dating my daughter?" She got straight to the point, tossing her blonde waves behind her, eyes narrowed. Mattheo nodded his expression serious
"Yes maam"
Her eyebrows raised slightly but she carried on quizzing him about his grades, plans and even what he thought about marriage. I wanted to die right about now. Luckily she only turned to me at the very end of her little interview "I expect you to have good grades by the end of the year. Your father sends his love" And with that she apparated away just as quickly as she had arrived.
I let out a sigh "Thanks. She's a handful sometimes" I told him, feeling bad that he had to take the brunt of her questioning. He shrugged wrapping an arm around my waist "It's fine, nothing I can't handle"
"You don't have to pretend like we're dating when no one's looking you know" I said to him quietly. It was getting dark now and no one would be out in the gardens anyways. Mattheo ignored me, carrying on walking toward the castle, his hand shifting to pull me closer
"Someone could be looking though the window, sweetheart. You can't be too careful" He whispered in my ear, his voice making my insides heat and my legs feel like jelly. I blinked at him as he straightened up acting as if he hadn't just made butterflies erupt in my stomach from a few simples words.
FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
I couldn't survive one night next to him without my brain cells melting how would I survive a whole fucking week?
note: If i made this into one long thing it would be too long and i prefer shorter parts...SORRYYY :(
#berrysfics#mattheo x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys#mattheo x you#mattheo x y/n#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x you#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#hogwarts imagine#slytherin fic#matheo riddle x reader#matheo x reader#matheo x y/n#matheo riddle#matheo riddle x reader fic
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When my nephew was four, a friend of the family passed away. The man was in his 90s and died of natural causes, and we were going to the funeral. We sat my nephew down and explained who this was, and that he had passed away, and now we were going to a sort of quiet party to celebrate him, and that there he might see the gentleman in the casket, and he might be very still, because he had died, but that everything was alright.
My nephew contemplated this calmly for a few minutes, and then said, "I think he will be very flat."
What.
It turns out that at age four, my nephew's only real context for death was roadkill, which he frequently pointed out while we were driving. He therefore believed that the only way anyone died was getting run over by a car.
#He seemed very at peace with this ending? We had to explain that there were non-roadkill ways to die.#also my nephew literally never uses contractions when he speaks#so he just seems very formal at all times
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Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part II
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 4.2k++ (of fluff and filth)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, dub con, fingering, pussyjob, thighjob, soldat being manipulative yet maintains to be so loving at the same time, another round of google translated russian, filthy praises, soldat just want to make you feel good, wet & messy everywhere, loud & whiny soldat, and at the end of the day, despite the manipulation, the soldat just want take care of you.
A/N: omfg 1k++ notes from the previous chapter?! i didn't think this would get so much attention that it had, tbh. Like wtf. What did I do to deserve this 😭 Thank you so much for your support! I can't even begin to tell you guys how much joy y'all bring me. So, I decided write more of our soft soldat for all of us cause let's be honest, we need him so bad. It's gonna be 3 part mini series. I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
The darkness in his sight seemed permenant, at least until it transitioned into a dim-litted scenery. He recognized softness of the bed, and the blank white color of the ceiling.
He was in his room.
But, when he realized the emptiness of his bed, it was as if a force jolted through his body, yanking his lying figure into a sitting position. The dead silent was broken by the sound of his gasping breaths, followed closely by the beats of his pounding heart.
"Родная (darling)?" His voice shivered in his shaky breath.
When the silent replied his call, cold sweat drenched the roots of his hair. He almost jumped into a defensive position when the door of the walk-in wardrobe seemingly opened on its own.
But to his relief, her voice broke the silence, "Soldat?" Y/N peeped out her head when she heard his voice but the moment she saw the panic in his blue eyes, she quickly made her way towards him.
As soon as she was standing near enough, the soldat pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing his face into her stomach a relief washed over him. Y/N ran her hands through his hair as she coaxed, "I'm here, I'm here."
He hummed in reply, "You're here." He repeated as a sigh escaped his lips.
Y/N didn't know why she expected that Bucky would be back after their "sleepover" but it was a shock for her when she woke up that morning with several tender kisses on her face by the soldat, who was very much still present.
"So, you're saying he's is not the winter soldier?" Sam cocked his head to the side as he tried to wrap up the overwhelming information thrown by Shuri.
The woman rolled her eyes, "No, I didn't say that. I said, he is not fully relapsed into the winter soldier." She reclarified.
"How was this possible? I thought he was gone?" Y/N asked as her worried gaze glanced over Bucky's unmoving figure in the examination pod.
Shuri sighed as she approached her, they watched Bucky's peaceful features resting through the glass, "We only remove the trigger that were attached to a switch to activating the winter soldier from Bucky; the soldat was never gone."
Y/N's eyebrows creased as the wakandan continued to explain, "It's like removing the toggle from a light switch; you can't turn it on just like that. But if, let say we use a toothpick to poke through the hole and trigger the switch, then..."
Steve intercepted her words before she could finish, "...then it'll be turned on." The woman nodded, "Precisely."
"That does not explain why Bucky is partially... not himself." Tony quickly probed as he casually threw a red M&M's into his mouth.
Steve paced back and forth in the room as he tried to replay the day of the incident, "Maybe it has to do something in that Hydra base that we raided. Bucky did look troubled on the jet home, then when we arrived he suddenly went berserk, looking for something; well... someone". He stopped as he threw a knowing look to Y/N.
"Yeah, why he is suddenly acting lovey dovey with y/n if the soldier was triggered? I don't get it." Sam crossed his arms against his chest as he questioned.
A smile almost cracked on Shuri's lips when they mentioned that, "This is just a hypothesis; but I reckoned that Bucky knew that the soldier is slowly taking over his mind and he didn't want to let himself vulnerable, exposed for people to give him orders."
Shuri leaned her back towards the table as she continued, "So instead, he latched himself on something else, to act as his mission. Some kind of desire that's buried as deep as where his winter soldier persona was concealed."
"So, you're saying that grumpy old man's deepest, darkest desire is to suffocate y/n with kisses and cuddles?" Tony quirked his eyebrow as he chewed on the sweet chocolate snack; there was certainly sarcasm in his voice.
Y/N intictively took the nearest object within her reach, which turns out to be a thick manual book, and struck Tony on his arms. The man repulsed with a confused frown on his forehead, mouthing a soundless, "What?"
Y/N mouthed back, "Shut up!" while Sam chuckled amusingly at the silent banter between them.
Ignoring the back and forth between Y/N and Tony, Shuri answered, "Well, those urges are derived by a certain key emotion, which I'm sure put you that genius title of yours into a good use, then you should've known the answer already."
"Love." Steve's revelation cuts through before Tony could throw his banter at Shuri, "He loves y/n." He repeated his words as if all of this made absolute sense.
Which only made Y/N stop on her tracks, "He loves me?" she questioned herself but everyone in the lab can practically see the confusion on her face.
Shuri agreed to Steve's deduction, "Yes, perhaps. I supposed that is why he is protective over her and like he said, wanted to suffocate her with kisses and cuddles." Shuri pointed at Tony as she return his sarcasm.
"Wait wait wait." Y/N held her hands forward as she stepped in the middle of the conversation, "Why are we casually agreeing to that as if it's normal? I mean, I know I'm not a genius but that is absolutely ridiculous. Bucky doesn't love me, as a friend maybe, yeah, but not like that." She couldn't help but to blush as she recalled the way the soldat hands and lips mapped on her skin.
"Yes, you are absolutely not a genius, especially when you are one of the two idiots who's in love with each other." Tony casually laid out the fact as everybody in the lab nodded in agreement, including Steve who she thought would back her up.
Y/N shook her head in denial and revert the conversation back to its original destination, "So, how do we get Bucky back?"
Shuri opened the terminal screen as she watched the progress of her observation, "Well, we're still figuring that out." Y/N's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"But what I can say is, it is best to let him stick with y/n for now." Shuri concluded.
They took the whole day running tests on the soldat, which he obediently cooperate as long as Y/N was there to hold his hand.
Between resting for breakfast, lunch and snack break; the soldat spend his time to be forced to put to sleep and out of it through out the day.
Right after dinner, and the final test run, he was just left to sleep off the rest of the night and Y/N finally had time to prep herself to sleep, when she heard Bucky's voice from the bed.
"Just finished showering. Hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt, they kinda lock me in here." Y/N frowned when she thought back on how the team managed to bring most of her things over but then forgot to pack her signature iron man pyjamas.
A fond smile curved on the soldat's lips as his gaze raked over her small body wrapped in his baggy shirt, which fell right at the middle of her naked thighs.
Y/N swore that there saw a flash of Bucky in his gleaming eyes. Or maybe she was just being delusional at this point.
She let him pulled her by the hand as he slowly brought her towards him. In no time, he had them both on the comfy matteress with soldat's back propped up against the headboard, while his arms found their place around Y/N's waist, cocooning her in between his legs.
It amazes her to think how comfortable she was, being this intimately close to him; when Bucky would've been too cautious to even approach her platonically.
So she decided rather than being constantly hesitant around the soldat, she thought that she might as well just enjoy the moment as it presented itself.
Y/N's exploring eyes stopped to the side of the bed when she saw a book next to the night lamp. She reached her hand as she leaned closer.
"Prince Caspian." She whispered to herself as her fingertips grazed across the title, "The Chronicles of Narnia, huh?"
It makes sense that Bucky would be interested to read this series, knowing his quirky yet undying brag about having the experience of reading The Hobbit back when it first came out.
Y/N couldn't help but to smile to herself, especially when her train of thoughts stopped at those memories of him.
She lifted the book towards the soldat, "What do you think, Soldat? Want me to read it to you?" She asked as the soldat rested his chin on her shoulder, peering at the deep blue, hard covered book.
He briefly hummed before replying, "Yes, please." The soldat loved the idea of being able to hear more of his darling's beautiful voice. It was his favourite thing in the whole world. Well, one of the things but surely all them were involving her.
Y/N settled herself as she leaned back against his sturdy chest. One of her legs were bent up towards her chest while the other was lazily thrown over his, spreading them as far as they could go.
The soldat placed light kisses on the back of her head all the way to the side of her neck, relishing at how soft her skin was and how good she smelled. The quiet of the room only enhanced the presence of her calming voice, luring him to close his eyes as he drowned himself the melody of it.
Minutes gone by and it was passing the half hour mark.
It wasn't that the soldat find the story boring or her voice drowsying, but he was feeling rather needy, almost greedy, to have more of Y/N to the point that he got slightly distracted.
She had been such a darling to him ever since he came home; fed him, letting him touch her, kiss her, pamper her, held her hand during those long lab tests, having her in his arms through the night and against his nightmare, and making him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
And yet, she didn't get anything in return.
His darling deserved to feel good and he wanted to give it to her so badly that he was getting distracted from the story that she was passionately reading for him.
Soldat's hands carefully explored her body, from the side of her waist then slowly down to her naked thighs. Too engrossed with the plot, she almost instinctively opened her legs wider for him. Though she never intended to do so, her actions surely were quite sinful.
He used the opportunity to glide his metal hand deeper into her inner thighs, lightly caressing up higher towards where her thighs meet, until the tip of it brushed over her core.
Now that's when she realized the situation, her head shoot up to face him. The book in her hand almost thrown to the side as she reached to grab his, gripping it tightly as she tried to pull him away.
Failing to stop him, she whispered "W-what are you doing?" She stuttered as she felt his fingers slide across her clothed pussy.
Soldat looked down at the smaller, "Wanna make you feel good, мое Родная (my darling)" he innocently whispered back as his dangerous fingers provoked her.
When her silence remained, the soldat lifted the corner of his eyebrow in curiosity. Was she hesitating? He sees it as an opportunity to coax her to his will.
He cooed softly when he explained, "You deserve it, darling. Deserve it so much. Please, let me?" He sounded so desperate when he begs like that.
It feels like her whole body was burning, his touch were igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, but she couldn't help it.
Oh, how his fingers works wonders even with the thin fabric were blocking his access.
Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked down to her thighs. The way she was grabbing onto his hands as he moved around; it looked like she was guiding him to touch her more.
The soldat knew she was close to be tempted to submit, "I promise it'll feel good. So good." he almost growled in her ears as he saw patch of the dampness started to appear on the center her panties.
"Don't." she whispered quietly, but that only made the soldat to futher seduce her as he add more pressure on his middle finger.
She hesitated for a while before she slurred "D-don't stop." her head thrown back into his neck, finally giving in to his promise of pleasure.
Lust took over the soldat, "Gonna make you feel so good, Родная (darling). Promise gonna treat your pretty pussy right. Make her cum so hard." He whispered lovingly as his breath sends shivers down her spine.
The soldat groaned, dropping his head to her neck to press open mouthed kisses on her untainted skin as he slipped his hand into her panties.
"Already wet for me?" He chuckled, biting his lip before his long finger slid between her folds.
"Hmmm." she tried to suppressed her voice as his finger moved up and down so deliciously.
"Of course," He said with a smile. He went on to tease her sensitive clit with slow, torturous circles, which force her to close her eyes, biting down on her lip to suppress a shrill moan.
"Родная (darling)," the soldat cooed. "You can scream as loud as you want. Let me hear those pretty noises, yeah?"
Y/N thought to reply but her own breath hitches when that one finger that has been circling her hole finally dips in, proceeding to spread her open for more.
She moaned louder this time, "Soldat..." The movement was completely involuntary; when her hand latch on to hold his wrist as her thighs try to squeeze shut at the feeling of him pressing another finger into her wet stretching cunt.
But, of course he was quick to spread her legs back open, preventing her to shy away.
"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.
The soldat nibbled on the shape of her ears as he hushed, "There, there darling. Open up for me." His two long, metal fingers thrusts and rubs the inside of her pulsating pussy, occasionally scissoring her cunt as he took her right hand into his fleshed one; intertwining her fingers with his.
Her other hand scrambled to dug into his thigh as she arched her back, grinding her hips down against his metal hand. The soldat smirked proudly at her reaction, moving his fingers a little faster, a little rougher. Just enough to make her whine and move against him in search of more stimulation.
She cried out as his thumb circled her clit, "Ahhh fuck" she moaned shamelessly, while his eyes followed each jerk of her body as if he was memorizing it all.
"Hmm, you're so wet, Родная (darling). So warm too." The soldat hissed as he felt his hand were soaking by the minute. The muffled sound of his thrusts against her wet heat filled the room.
He looked down to her hidden pussy; his hand covered by the panties she was wearing, "Look down baby, open your eyes and look down." he lured her with low groan.
Completely loss in bliss, she complied without asking any question. Both the soldat and Y/N was looking at the same sight, the same shape of his hand clinging tight to the fabric, barely hidden under the thin layer of her panties, moving up and down; in and out of her pussy.
Somehow, watching the way it moves made her closer to her orgasm.
In one swift move, the soldat lifted her slightly to pull the barrier off by the waistband. An animalistic groan rumbled from deep within his chest, when he was completely revealed to the sinful sight of her naked pussy.
So wet and full with his fingers.
The soldat teasingly entered a third finger into her, stretching her out so good that she felt tears prick her eyes. Y/N's head snapped forward along with a buck of her hips. "S-soldat,, ahhhh" Her whines grew louder than before and she felt the flame in her stomach growing yet it wasn’t enough.
"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.
He pressed his thumb harder against her swollen clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he pumped his fingers knuckle deep in and out of her cunt, causing her to gasp from the sensation.
He twisted and curled his fingers around to find that delicious spot inside of her, giving that delicious friction as he fucked her open. The noises coming from her pussy were so lewd, so crude and it only spurred him on.
"Sounds so perfect, Родная (darling). These pretty noises from your lips up here." The soldat murmured as he kissed the corner of her lips, "and down here." his fingers pumped faster, curling over and over again, creating the lewd squelching sounds of her juices leaking out.
Almost seeing stars, Y/N moaned desperately, "Cummin',, so good, 'm cumming." Oh, how sweet does her moans sounded in the soldat's ears.
"Already, Родная (darling)?" he groaned as he felt her hole pulsated, "But you need more, little one." He persuaded her edge a little more; but with the way he was fucking into her weeping pussy, she certainly wasn't able handle it anymore.
She whined needily as she shook her head, "Wanna cum now, please soldat ohh god please please please." She begged deliriously.
The soldat hummed as he worked his fingers up her hole, "Oh darling, you don't need to beg for it. You're so precious, I'd give you anything." He mumbled against her cheek as he kisses her, "Now, cum for me. Let me see you wet my bed, Родная (darling). Go on, cum."
All words die in the back of her throat when a he cooed at her. She threw her head back as a squeak of whine dies in her mouth; eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing as the soldat makes sure that she rides out the high for as long as she should.
"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy. Her orgasm gushed and flowed out onto his hand, dripping on the sheet as she quietly cry out in pleasure.
"So pretty," he praised, as his fingers kept pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, "So gorgeous, cumming so hard for me," he grunts in her ears as her high begins to settle.
He pull out his fingers, leaving her feeling empty for the sudden lost of touch. But that didn't last long when he proposed something else.
"One more time Родная (darling), with me." He moaned he sunk his metal hand into his pants and pull out his aching cock. The soldat tugs himself in his palm, rubbing the wetness on his hand around his length before settling it between her throbbing cunt.
Y/N didn't manage to let our her protest when he intercepted her, "Won't put it in, darling. Just..." his words linger as he squeezed her plush thighs together, engulfing his warm cock between them, "...wanna snuggle in between your thighs, Куколка (little one)."
"So keep them pressed together, okay?" the brunnete coaxed as his hands took a hold on her, "Will you do that for me?" The soldat asked sweetly.
She gave a small nod of affirmation, looking down at where the soldat's hands squishing both side of her thighs. The feeling of his length throbbing, wet with her slick, had her squeezing her thighs together more.
"That's my sweet girl. Promise you, it'll feel so good, darling." He let out a pleasurable groan as his hips jerked all the way forward, his skin meeting the back of her thighs while the head of his cock was peeking out from the other side.
With a squeeze of her hips in his hands, that will definitely leave bruises afterwards, he started to grind her into him. Back and forth, for the few experimental thrusts. And the moment her pretty little moans started to spill, he knew she needed more.
"More?" he moaned lowly, rocking his hips mindlessly.
Y/N limped back against his chest, whimpering sweetly for him as her needy little cunt drools messily all over her thighs and his cock; effortlessly making the thrust of his length between her thighs even easier.
If she was already so sensitve from him fingers before, now it's just oversimulating for her, "Hmm,, s-soldat,, that feels s-so good," she slurred, eyes rolling back.
"Yeah?" he gloated as he grunts, "Are you gonna cum again, darling? Come on, sweet one, I want to feel it." The soldat almost whimpered as he felt the thudding beat of her cunt on the stroke of his cock.
Y/N simply nodded, mouth falling open. His cock works over her sweet little pussy, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerve as he urged her to orgasm alongside his own.
He watched the way she drag her nails into the flesh of his thighs, "There she is, come on. Let it out, darling. That's it. Hmmm." His chest rumbled a deep groan. It was such a turned on for the soldat, to see the sight of him humping her legs faster until her slick finally wetting her thighs and his cock, making a mess everywhere.
Even if she has reached her high, his thrusts didn't flatter as his own orgasm was still at the edge. "Ahh,, darling,, please-- c-can't stop,," The upperside of his cock harshly rubbed between her sloppy folds, the feeling of the creamy mess between her thighs, making him fucked her faster.
The soldat whined needily into her neck as he drag her tightness back and forth. "So good, don't wanna stop." he squirmed as his voice hitched into a needy whimper, letting his head fall back to the headboard, his disheveled hair hanging by his face, some of it sticking onto his sweaty skin.
The room echoed with the several sinful sounds; his whimpers, her mewls, their skins slapping, the bed creaking, the wetness squelching.
It was such a dream for the soldat, especially when her folds spread around his fat cock every time he rolled his hips forward. The sight was beyond compelling, addictive to a certain extend.
"S-soldat,, please i'm,,hmmm,, sensitive." She can feel how thighs burned from the friction, and her slit abused with pleasure.
The soldat leaned into her until his hot breath blew across her neck, "Just a little more, Родная (darling)? Please? Wanna cum around your soft thighs, between your pretty pussy. You'll let me, right sweet one? You'll let me make a mess all over you? Paint you with my cum. You'll look so gorgeous, Родная (darling)"
His filthy thoughts started to spill out uncontrollably, as his body trembled in pure pleasure. His heaving chest rested on her small back when he whimpered, almost forcing her on her knees, pushing her down the mattress.
He wanted that so bad.
Just fuck her thighs and folds while she's on all fours, abusing her body for his pleasure and maybe slot the tip of his cock inside that tight cunt just before he cum, give that greedy little cunt a taste of his load, but he rather than that the soldat hold back on his thought, because truthfully he very much wanted to make a mess all over her right now.
His mouth sucking on her neck, leaving another one of his mark on her skin; one of many between those shades of purples and reds.
"Cumming for you, darling." He moaned loudly, eyes locked between her thighs, as his leaking cockhead occasionally peeks out. "Have so much cum for you,, gonna cream all over these thighs" He groaned, clenching his teeth as his cock throbs.
She clenched tighter as a unexpected orgasm were coming fast, letting out a desperate squeal as she reach her high. He growled at the feeling of her gushing pussy, fucking their orgasm into a higher level ecstacy.
The rolls of his hips were flattering into a slower and and sensual tempo, as both of them watched his cock; the way it pulsed and throbbed wildly, before white spurts of his hot cum started gushing from the little slit.
The soldat trembled through his orgasm, mouth falling open as he moaned lewdly at the sight of her skin being painted by his seemingly endless amount of cum.
Y/N panted heavily as her lips hanged open; failed words just at the tips of her tongue, unable to be formed properly. It didn't take long for the drowsiness to cloud her eyes, caused by the aftershock of the pleasure.
"There, there." The soldat cooed breathlessly in her ear, "So pretty, darling." Pampering the mark on her skin with gentle kisses, "So good for me." He mumbled as he languidly thrusts his cock, stroking the sides of her thighs, memorizing the sight of their wet mess.
Her body felt so good and satisfied, and the lid of her eyes slowly flutter into a longer close. She didn't hear much of his praises as he as laid her down, especially when his voice going in and out of her ears, as she was fighting through the temptation of slumber.
But, her body absolutely remembered how soft his touches on her skin, and the warm of the wet cloth swiping on the burn of her inner thighs, carefully over her swollen cunt.
"Love you, my precious darling." She couldn't make up what he was whispering under his breath. But she remembered the soldat pulling her close to his chest as he laid her on top of him, and the sweet kiss on her forehead before complete darkness engulf her sight.
"Your soldat loves you so much."
<< Part I || Part III >>
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So one of the cool and interesting ways ‘Steven Universe’ used to try and balance being both a series of 11-minutes episodes that each have their own satisfying emotional resolution and being an overarching story with complicated character arcs that take multiple seasons to resolve is the… I’m going to call it the ‘Not Quite Right Lesson’ episodes. Episodes where a character kinda learns a Very Important Lesson… but a more careful and retrospective look at the situation shows that what they learned is not Quite the Right Thing for them. They internalized something in that adventure which just ended up causing more Emotional Troubles for themselves farther down the line.
‘The Test’ is the most classic example.
As a standalone thing, it’s just a sweet episode about Steven learning to accept that his caretakers are also flawed and confused and figuring this shit up as they’re going along just like he is, and then doing a nice thing for their sake.
But looking back at this episode, it is quite obviously the nadir of Steven appointing himself as the Family Therapist and repressing all of his problems so he could better help the Gems’ with theirs. Like, there have been some early warning signs for this Complex, but this episode is the one that really cemented that idea in his mind and probably the reason it took him like the Entire Rest of the Show Including a Post-Finale Season to really untangle it.
But… also, I’ve been thinking a lot about the episode right after that, ‘Future Vision’. I think it’s also a very important ‘Not Quite Right Lesson Episode’ for the character of Garnet, and to some extent, the Crystal Gems as a whole. In many ways, it is to the CGs' character arcs' what 'the Test' is to Steven's.
So in this episode, Garnet reveals to Steven the fact that she has Future Vision. She hoped that telling Steven a little bit more about herself and being honest with him will lead to a greater understanding and a greater bond between them… but it backfired. It just led Steven to become a total paranoid, terrified wreck stuck in a total existential crisis.
And it seems like the lesson Garnet learned is that… she should’ve never taken that risk at all. That it would’ve been better for everyone if she just kept Steven ignorant of the truth forever.
Extremely reinforced with the ending of the episode, where Garnet chooses to once again hide an uncomfortable truth (that he just came very close to dying again) from Steven, for the sake of his own ‘peace of mind’.
So, like, the Gems were already hiding uncomfortable truths from Steven since day one. “If you could only know what we really are” and all of that. But I think… With the actual truth of Homeworld encroaching on them more and more at this point of the story arc, this would’ve been a great time for the Gems to reconsider their attitude and actually Explain to Steven What the Hell is Going On.
But instead, I think Garnet saw the events of ‘Future Vision’ as a reinforcement of the idea that there’s just some things Steven is Better Off Not Knowing. Actually being frank with him about Homeworld and the Diamonds and the War right there and then, that would have just overwhelmed Steven with fears and worries and would’ve ended up doing nothing but hurting him. And Garnet can’t accept that possibility, not again.
And so, Garnet, alongside Amethyst and Pearl, keep all these truths from Steven as long as possible. Only revealing bits of information when they have to. For Amethyst it’s about her emotionally-evasive attitude (also, she legit doesn’t know all of that stuff herself). For Pearl it’s about how she learned to romanticize Rose’s own fucked-up obsession with secrets. For Garnet, with her usually very direct attitude and preference for the most straightforward solutions, I think it’s very much the events of ‘Future Vision’ that were still playing in her head every time she had the choice to actually Explain something to Steven and decided not to.
But that, indeed, was Not Quite the Right Lesson. While being bluntly and directly told by Garnet all about the Many Ways He Could Die caused Steven to go into an anxiety spiral and an existential crisis for an episode - the way the Gems have been consistently secretive and evasive with Steven ended up causing him so much more emotional grief to him in the long run. As all of these secrets ended up revealed to him in the most surprising, dramatic and traumatizing way possible.
And the secretive attitudes ended up driving a wedge between Steven and the Gems.
Even after they promised to be more honest with him. Because the sight of Steven crying on the roof that day is one that Garnet can easily move away from. Because Garnet’s Not Quite Right Lesson was almost as difficult for her to unlearn as Steven’s own.
But after the big confrontation at the start of the Zoo Arc, Garnet ended up being the most upfront about the Crystal Gems’ history. Almost overeager to share what she knows about the past.
I mean also, again, Amethyst just has less to tell and Pearl is hiding secrets for reasons beyond her control - but I think it’s also important to consider from the perspective of Garnet’s arc.
Because the fallout of the Pink Diamond Reveal is very much centered around Garnet (or, well, Ruby and Sapphire). That was the Truth that was hidden from her 'for her own good'. And at the end of the day, despite all the grief that unveiling that truth has caused
It has also brought them, all of them, a lot closer.
There's a reason why 'the Truth' is Garnet's Final Missing Piece in the movie. It is as central to her character arc in the series as Lesbian AngstTM grief over lost love is to Pearl.
And still, some remnants of the Trauma of 'Future Vision' remained...
After all, even the very last episode of 'Future' was centered around the Gems once again trying to hide things from Steven (at that case, their turmoil about him leaving) for his own sake
Even though it once again just caused Steven a whole lot of grief.
It's maybe notable that at the end of this episode, Garnet, once again, tells Steven what's waiting for him in his Future...
#steven universe#su#steven universe future#su future#suf#su analysis#garnet#garnet steven universe#garnet su#steven#steven universe garnet#su garnet#ruby#sapphire#ruby steven universe#ruby su#sapphire su#sapphire steven universe#steven quartz universe#steven quartz demayo#su steven
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to do the right thing l part ii
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
series masterlist
summary: Joel has a hard time dealing with things as the pregnancy progresses; you and Joel ask Bill and Frank for the favor of a lifetime.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption, angst, asshole Joel, mentions of Sarah, softer Joel towards the end.
word count: 7.9k
a/n: i actually spent more time writing this second part, so hopefully it is a bit more well written than the first one that i wrote in an hour in the middle of the night. T_T
February, 2020
“Well, can I just say that we are just so incredibly thrilled that you two could finally come and join us for dinner this evening,” Frank beamed, grinning from ear to ear as he burst into the dining room with a bottle of his favorite red wine in one hand and a bottle opener in the other.
Bill snorted, stabbing his fork just a little too aggressively into his cut of chicken breast.
“Speak for yourself,” he grouched under his breath before taking a bite. Although he’d quit bringing his gun to the table, both you and Joel knew he had the pistol tucked somewhere nearby. You were willing to bet it was tucked into the waistband of his khaki trousers, but Joel would probably argue that it was in a less obvious place, like strapped to his ankle.
It really seemed as though Bill would never allow himself to get used to you, Tess, and he especially wouldn’t allow himself to get used to Joel. He knew it was the smart, logical choice, keeping you three around for the sake of trading supplies and resources when needed, but overall, it wasn't all that necessary. He and Frank had been doing just fine for years before you all had come into their lives after Frank had met Tess over the radio one afternoon. Or at least, that’s what he liked to believe despite the fact that during your very first lunch together, Joel had easily pointed out several flaws around the perimeter of their neighborhood—weak spots that could be vulnerable to raiders if they ever came along. You and Tess joked that Bill put Joel at the top of his shit list the moment he pointed out that their fence only had about a year left to hold strong. He’d been on it ever since.
Having you all around at this point was more for Frank’s benefit than anything. Bill would do just about anything to make Frank happy, and much to his chagrin, you, Tess, and even Joel, made him happy—having friends made him happy. Bill could do without socializing for the rest of his natural born life, but Frank, on the other hand, would lose his sanity.
“Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just been in a bad mood because we had a massive roof leak the other day after that huge thunderstorm," Frank explained, rolling his eyes. Being the attentive, gracious host that he always was, he quickly made his way around the dinner table, pouring everyone a generous glass of wine to enjoy with their meal. “He spent hours up on that roof trying to patch it up and then damn near broke his ankle coming down when he missed the last two steps on the ladder. Can you believe that?”
“Thought I noticed a limp,” Joel remarked with an amused smirk.
Frank nudged Joel in the shoulder as he poured his wine. “I had told him to wait for you, Joel, what with you having been in construction before and all. But Mister ‘I don’t need anyone’s help’ decided to do it himself even though he has never patched a roof before in his life.”
“Tell you what, next time we’re over for lunch, I’ll go up there and check it out. Make sure he did it right ‘cause I highly doubt he did.”
Bill glowered at him.
You roughly smacked the side of his thigh underneath the table.
Joel, please, You thought silently. We need to stay on his good side.
Frank chuckled as he fell into step beside your chair. “That would be very helpful if you did, actually. It would definitely give me a bit more peace of mind, especially since the rainiest season of the year is approaching fast.” He offered Bill an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but we really should let an expert take a look at it, just to be on the safe side. Joel knows his stuff, after all.”
As he reached for your glass, you quickly placed your hand over the top of it and lightly shook your head. “Oh, none for me tonight, thank you,” You declined politely. The wine was normally your favorite part of any meal they hosted, seeing as Bill and Frank, who were both quite the wine enthusiasts, knew how to make the most heavenly of pairings. It really was a fucking shame that it would be at least a few more months before you could drink again. Lord only knew you could use the alcohol after all of the bullshit that had been going on lately with Joel. “May I have a glass of water instead, please?”
“What? You don’t want any wine?” Frank frowned and reached out with his free hand, pressing the back of it against your forehead. “Are you feeling sick or something? Should we be worried? Bill, where’s the reader—?”
You chuckled at his usual dramatic little antics. “No, I’m fine,” You assured him. “I’d just rather stick to water tonight if that’s okay.”
“That’s really fucking weird of you, but alright,” he sang over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a minute later with a tall glass of clean, filtered water in his hand and set it down on the table in front of you before taking his seat next to Bill. He picked up his red cloth napkin and draped it gingerly over his lap. “So, tell us again why Tess couldn’t make it tonight?”
“She, uh, she had a few things she needed to take care of back in the QZ,” Joel explained to him briefly before popping a piece of roasted rosemary potato into his mouth. The truth was that Tess had opted to stay behind and sit this one out, stating that the conversation that would eventually take place tonight would be between the four of you. She didn’t need to be there, nor be a part of it.
“Well that’s such a shame. I really miss her,” Frank lamented between bites of his garden salad. “It’s been a while since we’ve all gotten together for a meal. Hell, this is the first time we’ve seen you in what, a couple of months at least, right Bill?”
“Felt like a lot less than that. But sure, let’s call it a couple of months.” Bill eyed Joel suspiciously. “Sounded a bit urgent when you radioed in and let us know you had to come see us tonight, Joel. More so than usual. I’m guessing that you two must really need something from us.”
You and Joel exchanged a silent glance.
“Jesus Bill, can you please not be so rude to them for once?” Frank scolded, waving a hand dismissively at his partner. He smiled apologetically at you and Joel. “Again, please don’t mind him. It seems to me that we still have some work left to do with his manners.” He paused just long enough to take a delicate sip of his wine. He set his glass down, then picked up his fork and knife. “But, if you do happen to need anything, you know that we are more than happy to help you out as best as we can if we have the supplies and resources to spare.”
“Which we don’t,” Bill chimed in, earning himself a light smack to the shoulder.
Joel ignored him and instead focused his attention on Frank. He was the one to win over out of the two. “That’s awfully kind of you, Frank. You know that we always appreciate your warm hospitality,” he remarked, and although he was laying it on a little thick for the sake of getting into his good graces, there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. He actually happened to like Frank—it was hard for anyone not to like him. Joel lifted his glass of wine to him in a toast. “Of all the people we could’ve come across on the radio that day, we’re grateful that it was you.”
Frank touched a hand lightly to his chest. He then picked up his own glass, clinking the rim against Joel’s. “Well, cheers to that.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Bill grumbled, shaking his head.
Joel nudged your leg under the table as if to let you know it was time.
On the way up to Lincoln, he had suggested Bill and Frank would be a lot more inclined to agree to yours and his pending request if it came from you. Joel could butter Frank up well enough, but Bill hated his fucking guts, and you probably had a better chance of winning the survivalist over than Joel did.
You cleared your throat lightly, garnering everyone’s attention. “I have some news to share. Well, actually, we have some news to share.”
Bill raised a thick, bushy eyebrow. “What kind of news?”
“News? Is everything okay?” Frank asked, suddenly worried. “Wait. Is it Tess? Is she alright? Did something happen?”
“No, it isn’t anything like that at all. Tess is perfectly fine,” You quickly reassured him, causing him to sink back against his chair in relief. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling it softly through your mouth and announcing, “I’m, um—I’m pregnant.”
Bill nearly choked on his chicken and Frank gasped, both hands flying to his mouth in complete shock. The seconds passed in silence, and the room had gone so quiet that one could have heard a fucking pin drop on the floor. You felt the heat flood to your face and nervously shoved a forkful of baked chicken into your mouth, deciding it would be best to just give them a bit of time to process the news before moving onto phase two. However, Joel wasn’t there to waste any time and decided to step in.
“Listen, I know that this is probably a lot to take in, but we didn’t exactly come over here to share that with you just for shits and giggles. As much as it pains me to say it, Bill is right,” he admitted reluctantly. That was one phrase Joel Miller could do without saying ever again. “Truth is, we do need somethin’ from you two. We’ve got a favor to ask you both, a big one at that.”
That had been enough to slap Bill back into reality.
“Oh no, stop right there! I can see where this is going from a fucking mile away!” He jumped up from his chair, furiously shaking his head as he wagged his index finger at you and Joel. “Listen here, we have been as generous as we can possibly be with the two of you, and with Tess—but there’s got to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it! There is no fucking way in hell that we’re taking you into our home, into our neighborhood! This place belongs to us, we built it, we secured it! We worked our goddamn asses off for all that we have and just because she’s pregnant does not mean we will allow you to—”
“That’s not it.” Though your voice was smaller, softer, it managed to get through to Bill over his angry ranting. “That’s not it at all, Bill. We’re not trying to move here or invade your space like that, I swear it.”
His hand dropped down to his side. “Really?”
“No. Of course not. We know you have boundaries, and so does Frank. And whether you choose to believe it or not, we do our best to respect them as much as we possibly can.”
“Oh.” Bill slowly sank back down to his chair, looking relieved. “Then what is it that you two want? You need baby clothes or baby blankets from the boutique or something?”
“Not exactly,” You mumbled. You took a quick minute to think it over in your head, wondering if there was any correct or tactful way to ask what you were about to ask of them—there wasn’t. It didn’t matter if you spun it a million different ways, Bill was still going to blow a fuse again no matter what. “We wanted to ask you and Frank if you would be willing to take the baby into your care once it’s born.”
And just like that, Bill’s temporary relief vanished. “I beg your fucking pardon?”
You turned to Joel, saying tightly through your teeth, “A little fucking help here, please?”
“Look. Boston ain’t no fuckin’ place for a child,” Joel started, lifting his hand in an attempt to keep Bill calm this time. “Too much shit’s been goin’ on there lately. Violence has escalated, supplies are gettin’ harder to get and costin’ us more than ever before. So we want to know if you and Frank are willing to take the baby after it’s born. It would be better off here with you two than with us in the QZ.”
Bill didn’t need to think twice about it. He answered Joel with a stern, “Absolutely not.”
Joel let out an irritated sigh and dropped his fork. The utensil clanked loudly against the white porcelain plate. He dropped his face into his hands, rubbing it harshly. “Fuckin’ knew he wasn’t gonna make this easy for us.”
You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip, an overwhelming feeling suddenly washing over your entire body from head to toe. It was strange to feel this way, considering the fact Bill and Frank’s place had always been something of a temporary escape for you. Their neighborhood, their home, it usually brought you a sense of peace and tranquility—you felt comfortable whenever you were here. But between Bill’s angry outburst, his instant decline to your request, and Frank’s wide, shocked eyes still fixed intently on you, you suddenly found yourself wishing you were anywhere but in Lincoln.
“You’re pregnant?” Frank’s incredulous voice broke the silence that had fallen over the dinner table. Part of you wondered how much of the conversation he had even heard or if it had just gone in through one ear and out the other. “You’re really pregnant?”
“Frank,” Bill said his name warningly. “Don’t even think about it.”
Frank ignored him, his attention still on you. “How far along are you?”
You glanced at Joel before turning back to him. “It’s just an estimate, but we’re thinking at this point that I might be about four and a half months, maybe almost five?” You replied with a small shrug of your shoulders. “We aren’t too sure, though.”
“And it’s yours?” Bill questioned, eyeing Joel in disbelief.
Joel glared at him, his aggravated silence speaking for him.
“Oh, Bill.” Frank suddenly turned to him with a hopeful expression. “A baby!”
There had been a couple of different occasions where, while sitting outside on the front lawn enjoying a glass of iced tea in the sunshine, Frank had confessed to both you and Tess of his desire to have a family one day. He acknowledged the chances of that ever happening were virtually impossible, but he admitted that it was something he had been dreaming of since meeting Bill. He wanted to be a father. He wanted a child, and here you were, with one that you couldn’t keep.
“Frank. No.” Bill stared at him, unable to fathom how he could even think that taking in a child could possibly be a good idea. “I’m sorry. You know I try to give you everything that you ask for, but I have to put my foot down this time. I have enough trouble keeping you safe as it is! We’ve had raiders come and try knocking at our door before—”
“And you’ve fought them off,” Joel reminded him. “Successfully.”
“Not to mention, think of all the things we would have to do in order to raise a kid, all the supplies and resources we would use up in just the first year alone—”
“Bill, we know this is a lot to ask of you, of both of you,” You somehow managed to chime in. “We know that a favor like this is one we would never be able to repay you for, not in this lifetime. But it’s this child’s only shot. What kind of life would it have where we live? What kind of future would it have in the QZ?”
“Hm. Sounds like not our fucking problem,” Bill quipped. “Sorry.”
Frank’s eyes left his partner’s and met yours across the table before they fell down to your midsection. “You said you’re about four and a half months?”
You gave him a small nod.
Bill might not have been on board, but you still had Frank.
He was your only hope.
“Yes, but again, it’s an guess. We don’t want anyone else in the QZ knowing that I’m pregnant, so I haven’t been to see a doctor. But we think it’s a pretty close guess.” Suddenly, an idea came to mind. You hesitated, at first, but knew it was your best shot at finishing the job and reeling Frank in. You slowly stood up from the table and with trembling fingers, you started to unbutton the flannel jacket you were wearing—Joel’s flannel jacket—and showed him the swollen belly you had been hiding underneath it. It was on the smaller side, but still quite prominent underneath a snug-fitting, cotton blue tank top.
“Oh!” Frank breathed out in surprise. He rose to his feet, rushing over and around to your side of the table. He excitedly lifted his hands, but then stopped himself, glancing at you for permission first. “Would it be alright if—?”
“Of course, go right ahead,” You encouraged with a tiny smile as you continued holding the jacket open for him.
Frank sank to his knees in front of you. He lightly cradled the small bump in between his palms, looking up at you with a look of absolute wonder on his face.
It felt bizarre, not only showing your midsection to someone else, but having another set of hands besides your own on it felt foreign as well.
As soon as you’d started showing, Joel had refused to go near you—the way he tried painfully to ignore it caused you to keep it hidden away underneath oversized clothes, even in the privacy of your own quarters.
During the first few weeks of your pregnancy, he’d been just fine. Well, as fine as he could be. But once your belly had popped, it was as if it had all suddenly sunk in and really clicked for Joel—this was one hundred percent fucking real now and that was his baby growing inside of you. Since that moment, he hadn’t quite been himself, at least not with you.
Joel still looked out for you, of course. He didn’t dote sweetly on you and shower you with affection, but he did take responsibility in the ways that mattered. He made sure that you were taking the prenatal vitamins Tess had found for you, he made sure that you were eating enough, and if he ever noticed that you were still hungry, he would shovel his own portion onto your plate without asking and head off to sleep on an empty stomach. He helped you out whenever you were assigned to the same work detail, taking on an extra load of work on top of his own if it meant sparing you from even the slightest risk of straining yourself or over exerting your body.
Sure, he still cared for you. He wouldn’t do any of that if he didn’t.
But that didn’t mean things between you hadn’t changed.
They had.
Drastically.
Joel kept his distance from you, physically. He hadn’t fucked you, kissed you, or so much as even touched you in the last couple of months. He’d even started sleeping on the couch, leaving you to sleep alone in your once shared bed. Whenever he spoke to you, he stood at least a few feet away, and his eyes always remained trained on your face—he took especially great care to not look at your growing stomach. You could briefly recall one morning when you’d squeezed past him in the kitchen to grab a mug from the sink while he’d been making his morning coffee; when your belly accidentally brushed against his hand, he had cringed, snatching it away from you as if he’d touched something unpleasant. Deep down, you knew this was his own twisted, fucked up way of coping with how he was feeling, but it still didn’t stop you from wishing that he’d quit acting as if you and the baby were the fucking plague.
As much as you tried to deny it, the way Joel had been treating you lately hurt you. It cut you deep, down to your very core. You put on a good front for him and Tess, though, acting as if none of it bothered you. But the tears that you shed on the nights they left you alone to go out on their runs were endless.
“Oh Bill,” Frank glanced pleadingly over his shoulder at his partner, his hands still on your stomach. “Please.”
“Frank—”
“Please.”
Bill couldn’t refuse Frank a majority of the time. But this was bigger than anything he’d ever asked of him and it was going to take more than his usual amount of convincing to get him to agree.
Bill scoffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let me guess. You want us to take this baby in and you want us to clothe it, feed it, and protect it. You want us to do the real work of raising it, using up our supplies and resources. And then what? You two come along to play mommy and daddy whenever you fucking feel like it?”
You shuffled from foot to foot, wincing slightly at his harshness. “No, of course not.”
Joel wasn’t all too fond of Bill’s tone towards you. He leaned forward, throwing him a warning glare across the table. “She’d like to visit,” he informed him, keeping his temper under control. He knew better than to go off on Bill, not when you were still trying to convince him to do you both the favor of a fucking lifetime. “Every now and again, just to see the kid. But we think it’s best if we do a closed adoption, if you wanna call it that. You and Frank are the parents, and we’re just a couple of friends who come by and visit daddy and daddy every now and again for lunch.”
“Right, and you really want me to believe that there’s no chance she’s going to be attached to this baby after carrying it for nine months?” Although Bill was facing and speaking directly to Joel, it was obvious he was indirectly grilling you. And here Joel thought the man might have had something of a soft spot for you. “Think about it, Joel. You don’t think one day she might waltz in here and decide she wants to take it back? Break Frank’s heart when he has to give up a child he’s going to undoubtedly fall in love with?”
Anger simmered underneath your skin, bubbling in your veins at the insinuation that you could ever do something to hurt Frank. “First of all, stop talking about me like I’m not in the fucking room, alright? I’m standing right here, so fucking look me in the face if you’re going to talk about me.” You seethed. Frank stood up and placed his hand on your shoulder in an effort to calm you, but it was too late. “This isn’t a fucking game, Bill. This isn’t a decision that we made on a whim or that we’re taking lightly. Me and Joel are just trying to do right by this child. If you and Frank agree to take it in as your own, it’s all yours. I’m not going to take it back,” You practically spat. “Once it’s done, it’s fucking done.”
“Alright, alright. I’m going to need you to just take a deep breath and relax before you bring on early labor in the middle of my dining room.” Frank gently guided you until you were sitting back in one of the chairs and handed you your untouched glass of water. He waited patiently as you took a few sips and then took the glass from your hand, setting it back down on the table. “Listen, before we decide anything, I just have to ask—is this really what you want to do? This is a decision that you made, right? No one is making you do this?” He noticed Joel raise his eyebrows at what he was suggesting, and before he could chime in, Frank quickly added, “I just need to hear it from her, Joel.”
“This is what’s best,” You answered honestly, feeling a dull ache in your heart that had become all too familiar. “I have spent so many long nights lying in bed just thinking this over. We don’t have any other choice, not if we want it to have a chance at a decent life. That is what I want, Frank. For it to have a chance at a decent life.”
“This child is gonna grow up and want to know who its parents are,” Bill pointed out. “Thought about that at all?”
“Use your imagination,” Joel remarked before taking a quick sip of wine. “Make somethin’ up. Lie. Tell it you found it in a basket floating down the fuckin’ river. Whatever it takes. We don’t ever want the kid to know it’s us.”
“Going to be kind of hard if it comes out looking like your clone.” Bill gestured to you with a nod of his head. “Or hers.”
“It’ll be a long, long time before this child is even old enough to notice things like who he or she looks like,” You released a little scoff, tired of him using any reason he could think of to stand against it. “Bill, please. Can’t you at least think about it for the next few weeks and at least consider it?”
“No.”
Your face fell.
Motherfucker really wasn’t going to budge.
“Well now, wait just a second.” Frank walked over to him and put his hands on his burly shoulders. “Bill, think about it. This is our chance.” He squeezed his shoulders. “To have a family. A real family.”
“Family? It’s not our fucking kid—it’s not a part of me or you.”
“But we’ll love it like it is! Blood isn’t what makes a family. Love is,” he reminded him softly.
You swallowed back the lump that had risen in your throat.
Bill might have been a stubborn jackass, but you knew that Frank would show him how to be a good father. He had already shown him how to be an amazing, loving partner.
“So?” Joel prompted. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into his chair.
Bill scowled at him. He said nothing as he reached for his glass of wine, chugging every last drop in one long gulp before he stood up and stalked out of the dining room.
Frank had his answer.
And so did you and Joel.
As the next several weeks turned into months, pregnancy—and your ever ongoing attempts at hiding it from everyone in the Boston QZ—had really started to take its toll on you, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Joel had given you all but his entire wardrobe, helping to keep your condition hidden as well as possible, but it was taking a hell of a lot more than just his jackets and shirts to keep it a secret. When you entered your third trimester, you were starting to struggle immensely with work detail, finding it more and more difficult to keep up with what authorities expected of you. Everything ached—your feet, your back, and even the hairs on your fucking head were hurting, and yet you were forced to carry on with your daily duties as best you could to avoid raising any suspicions.
“Frank said it might be best if you gave birth at their place,” Joel commented over dinner one night. Tess was out doing a solo run, and it had just been the two of you for the last couple of days. Lately, you almost wished she would stop leaving you alone with Joel. Ever since that night at Bill and Frank’s, he had been acting a lot colder towards you, more than ever before. He could hardly look at you most days. Before, he could at least stand to look at your face. Now, there wasn’t a single part of you that his eyes could meet. “As soon as you start feelin’ off, we’re gonna need to get you over to them. Frank talked Bill into lettin’ you stay for a few days if it comes down to it and you need some time to heal.”
You simply nodded, your gaze fixed on the torn paper napkin in front of you. “Okay.”
He bit into his piece of jerky, his eyes also glued to the table. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see that you’d finished your portion already. He reached out, dropping his piece in front of you onto your napkin. “Need to eat more,” he grumbled. He picked up his glass of whiskey, polishing it off before pouring himself another.
You couldn’t stand it.
You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
“Joel.” You said his name in a smaller voice than what you had been aiming for. “Can we talk?”
He racked his brain for the first bullshit excuse he could think of. “It can wait. S’real late and we need to get to bed soon. We got early work orders tomorrow.”
“No, Joel, actually, it can’t fucking wait.” Your heart was pounding at a rate that felt far too fast for your body and you tried to remind yourself to remain calm. You knew you needed to keep your emotions in check, or else your distress could cause distress to the baby. “We need to talk. Now.”
Joel drew an impatient breath. “Talk ‘bout what, exactly?”
“About how you’ve been acting over the last few months.” Your voice trembled and you almost kicked yourself for it. The last thing that you needed to do was fucking crumble. “And about the way you’ve been treating me, too. You’ve been keeping your distance from me, acting like I’m some kind of—I’ve seen you cringe a lot less when dumping the infected bodies into the fire pits, let’s just put it that way.”
“Those pregnancy hormones,” he released a short, bitter laugh. “Got you bein’ all dramatic.”
“I am not being dramatic.” Your hands curled into tiny fists. “You won’t talk to me. You won’t touch me. You won’t even fucking look at me anymore! I’m sick of it, Joel.”
“It’s nothin’,” he replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. He looked down into his whiskey, feigning a sudden interest in the rich amber hues in his glass.
“Nothing?” You repeated, flabbergasted. “Then why haven’t you slept in our bed with me? Hm? Oh that’s right, because you can’t fucking stand to be that close to me! You’d rather break your back on that old fucking couch rather than sleep next to me.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his grip around his glass tightening. “Listen, I ain’t doin’ this right now, alright?”
“Joel.” You hesitated. If you crossed this line and pushed one too many of his buttons, there was no fucking going back. “I know that you’re afraid, okay?”
“I ain’t afraid,” he countered through gritted teeth. Finally, he brought himself to look up at you, his eyes meeting yours—that same emotion that he’d just denied was right there behind them as clear as the fucking stars in the sky outside. Joel wasn’t made of stone. He wasn’t any kind of special exception to having normal human feelings. He hid everything pretty well, and because you cared about him, you were willing to put up with his asshole façade because he needed you as much as you needed him. Still, even after years of trying to take the wall he’d built down brick by brick with your bare hands, you hadn’t gotten very far and you wished the man would help you out every now and again and throw you a fucking hammer. “Ain’t no reason for me to be afraid. I ain’t the one who’s fuckin’ pregnant.”
“It’s yours too! This is your baby too, Joel. Your child. It is part of you, just as much as it is a part of me. And ever since day fucking one, you have been scared shitless of it,” You confronted him, another trembling edge coming to your voice. “And I know why, okay? I know that what happened to Sarah—”
Joel froze, going rigid in his seat. His free hand had curled into a fist, his tight knuckles turning ghost white.
It was something of an unspoken rule.
Nobody talked about Sarah.
Hell, the only reason you even knew about his daughter was because you’d accidentally stumbled upon an old polaroid of her while washing his jeans in the kitchen sink one morning. You had found it in one of the back pockets while cleaning them out, the photograph heavily creased as if he spent ample amounts of time folding it open and then folding it closed again. Sarah’s name had been scribbled on the back of the polaroid. Her smile, her nose, it was all Joel, and it had taken you less than sixty seconds to realize the young teenaged girl posing goofily in the picture had been his daughter.
When you’d handed the picture to him while his jeans dried, it was like a silent bomb had detonated. Although it’d been a mere accident on your part, Joel had been so incredibly angry with you, as if you had gone snooping through his past life on purpose. For weeks, he hadn’t said a single word to you unless it had something to do with work or a run.
He’d lost her. He hadn’t told you that, but you’d guessed it.
Whether it was to infection or something else, you didn’t know. And you knew better than to ask him. All you knew was that losing her had done something irreparable to Joel Miller. Whoever he’d been before losing his daughter was dead too.
“Don’t,” he warned, his voice strained. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Joel, please,” You whispered. “Whatever happened to her, you can’t possibly keep it to yourself for the rest of your life. You can talk to me about Sarah—”
Joel slammed his curled fist down onto the table, startling you. He then turned in his chair and flung his glass at the wall behind him, the sound of it shattering into hundreds of pieces echoing throughout the small apartment. Jumping to his feet, he pointed a threatening finger in your face. “Don’t you ever utter her fuckin’ name ever again! You understand me?”
“But Joel—”
“Do you fuckin’ understand me?”
“I understand.” You hardly recognized the squeak that left your lips.
“Go to bed. Now,” he ordered, whirling around on his heel. “It’s fuckin’ late.”
Without another word, Joel stalked over towards the couch and dropped onto it, rolling over onto his side so his back was to you.
You pulled the neckline of his shirt that you wore over your mouth and pressed your palm against it in an effort to muffle a sob.
A few hours later into the middle of the night, Joel had awakened and stood up from the couch only to find you sitting there in the exact same spot where he’d left you at the table. Though it was dark in the apartment, the moonlight that shone through the torn curtains over the window illuminated your face and he could see you hadn’t stopped crying since he’d fallen asleep.
“Y’need to go lay down,” he told you quietly.
You knew this tactic all too well.
His way of apologizing for losing his shit on you without actually apologizing.
“I’m fucking fine right where I am,” You snapped stubbornly in response, quickly dabbing at your damp eyes with the back of your hand. That was a downright lie. Your lower back was on fire from having sat in the chair for so long.
Joel sighed, hanging his head. He knew he’d fucked up. He’d been fucking up for the last several months. He pulled a chair around in front of yours and sat down, his knee touching yours lightly. That alone was enough to send a chill throughout your body. “Sittin’ in that chair for too long ain’t good for your back,” he stated. He waited to see if you would speak and when you didn’t reply a couple minutes later, he sighed again. “Look, I’m real sorry about earlier, alright? Hell, I’m sorry for everythin’. You were right, I’ve been treatin’ you like shit and you definitely don’t deserve it.”
Stunned, you looked up at him.
“I was angry, but I shouldn’t have lashed out on you the way that I did. Much less while you’re in this condition.” He paused, reaching up to rub his face tiredly with one of his hands. He then let it fall back down to his thigh with a loud slapping sound. “It’s a sore spot for me, alright? Always has been and always will be. Nothin’ or no one is goin’ to change that, not ever. Not even you,” he admitted, shoulders sagging as if the realization had just come to him. “You know you mean somethin’ special to me. You know I care about you, and you know you’re what has kept me goin’ these last few years. I’d do just about anythin’ for you. But I need you to respect that I don’t wanna talk about her and I don’t want you bringin’ her up. She is from my past and that is where I need to leave her.”
“But why?” You frowned, wiping a stray tear that had fallen away from your cheek. “That’s not fair to you or to her. She doesn’t deserve to be forgotten about.”
“That what you think it is? That I’m tryin’ to forget about her? Impossible. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of her.”
You placed your hands down onto your lap and started wringing them together anxiously. “It’s not that I think you’re trying to forget about her, Joel. But you refusing to talk about her, it’s erasing her memory, whether you think of it that way or not.” Noticing him wince at your words, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him—stroke his cheek, hold his hand. But you were finally getting somewhere and you knew better than to move too fast, so you willed yourself to keep your hands to yourself. “And besides that, you aren’t doing yourself any favors by keeping her story a secret. You’ve been carrying the weight of whatever happened to her on your shoulders for what, almost two decades now?”
“It’s my burden to carry, alright?”
“You shouldn’t have to carry it alone.” Your expression softened. It dawned on you. You’d thought you knew how much pain Joel had been in for all these years, but the honest truth was that you didn’t have the slightest clue. You didn’t know how bad he was actually hurting—and that killed you inside. “You need to talk about it, Joel. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday.”
“No. I can’t—”
“Don’t you trust me?”
Joel almost seemed offended that you’d even ask such a thing. “Of course I fuckin’ trust you.”
“Then why won’t you let me in, Joel?” A fresh batch of tears brimmed your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously before they could fall. “After everything that we’ve been through together. I’m carrying your fucking child for god’s sake.”
He didn’t answer. Tearing his gaze away from you, he looked straight ahead at the wall in front of him.
“Joel.”
Silence.
“Joel. Come on. Can you just fucking look at me, please?”
Nothing.
You let out a long, sad sigh of defeat. So much for getting somewhere. “Alright. Fine.” You placed a hand on your stomach and stood up from your chair. “I’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.”
As you padded over towards your mattress, Joel’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “Sarah was my daughter.”
Slowly, you turned around, your lips parted slightly.
“Pretty sure you knew that already though,” he chuckled in spite of himself. “She was fourteen years old. Her mom walked out on us when she was just a baby. I spent her entire life raising her by myself. Tommy, well, he was around too, but he was more of a bad influence than anythin’ and sometimes it felt like I was lookin’ after two kids instead of one.”
You walked back over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Joel reached up and took your hips in his hands, carefully pulling you down to sit on his lap.
“No Joel, I’m way too heavy.” Embarrassed, you quickly tried standing up.
“You think you’re heavy?” He snorted lightly, holding you firmly in place. “If anythin’, you could stand to have a bit more meat on your bones bein’ almost nine months pregnant and all.”
“Blame my nutritious, nourishing diet of jerky and stale crackers.” The sarcasm dripped from your tone.
He let out something in between a snort and a laugh.
You couldn’t help but smile a little and draped an arm around his shoulders.
How you’d missed this. Missed him.
You leaned into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. For the next several minutes, Joel just held you.
Just when you were beginning to wonder how long the silence would last, he broke it.
“I’m not ready to talk ‘bout what happened to her,” he explained, quietly. “Might not be ready for a long, long time. Not sure if I’ll ever be ready, if you want the honest truth. Sarah, she was my sweet little butterfly. The absolute love of my fuckin’ life. Losin’ her was the worst fuckin’ thing that has ever happened to me. It’s a wound that’s still raw as hell, even after all these years. Might even be one of those wounds that just never heals, you know?”
You lifted your head from his shoulder, your hand going to his hair. You ran your fingers through it, amazed how even after going days without a wash, it always stayed so soft. “I know you don’t want me to say that I’m sorry—”
“I really fuckin’ don’t,” Joel confirmed with a shake of his head. “Won’t change shit. Won’t bring her back. Sure as hell won’t make me feel any better.”
“Then I won’t say it.” You brought your hand back down to your lap and leaned forward. You pressed your lips against his forehead, letting them linger. He stiffened, and you could feel him restraining himself from completely melting into your touch. You knew things would take a little time and you were willing to be as patient as you needed to be for him.
“Losin’ another child—” Joel trailed off, voice hoarse. “I just—I can’t.”
“I know,” You soothed him. “Which is why we’re doing the right thing and letting Bill and Frank take him.”
“Him?”
You offered him a small, tired smile. It really was getting late now and the exhaustion was creeping in. “I haven’t had the chance to tell you. But I think it’s a boy.”
“And how the hell could you possibly fuckin’ know that?”
You shrugged. “Just a gut feeling. Tess thinks it’s a boy too. She says with the way I’m carrying, it must be—” You stopped, doubling over in pain. “Fuck. Ouch.”
Alarmed, Joel’s hand found the small of your back, the other was in front of you, making sure you didn’t fall over off of his lap. “What? What is it?”
“The baby just kicked me.” You grimaced, leaning back into a sitting position. “Right in damn the ribs too. And there goes another one.” You exhaled sharply, the discomfort radiating throughout your body. “Jesus. He must take after you with all the violence.”
Joel seemed a bit stunned. “This the first time it’s ever kicked?”
“No. He’s done it a few times before. But never this much in one sitting. Or this hard.” You winced. “He’s really fighting in there.”
Joel just stared at you, something that looked a bit like awe in his eyes.
Through the slight pain, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to feel him?”
“Oh I don’t think, uh, I don’t think I should—”
“It’s not going to fucking kill you, Joel.”
He hesitantly lifted his hand. “Where—where do I put it?”
“Here.” You took his hand in both of yours and placed it on the side of your round midsection. “Just give it a second. You’ll feel it right here.”
You watched his face carefully. He jumped slightly once he’d felt the fluttering motion against the palm of his hand, his dark eyes going wide.
Even before the outbreak, Joel never thought he’d feel something like that again in his life.
“He’s strong,” he murmured. “Real strong.”
“I know. Wonder where he got that from,” You joked lightly.
Moving his hand away, Joel placed it on your thighs and awkwardly cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s pretty late. You really do need to get some sleep.”
“Okay. But on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“Will you come to bed with me?”
“‘Course.” He stood up, letting out a small, labored grunt as he lifted you up into his arms.
“I told you I’m heavy,” You reminded him with a laugh. “Joel, put me down. This cannot possibly be good for your back.”
“Oh, shut up.” Joel walked over, gingerly placing you down onto the mattress. He waited for you to get comfortable before climbing in behind you, pulling a wool blanket over both of your bodies. He pulled your back against his chest and draped his arm around you, his hand subconsciously—instinctively—resting on your stomach. His lips found the delicate spot behind your ear and he pressed his lips gently against it, sending a small shiver up your spine.
“Joel?”
“Hm?” He mumbled into your ear. He was already falling asleep.
They were right there, right on the tip of your tongue, those three words that you had been aching to say to him for years.
I love you.
“Nevermind.” You sighed softly. “Goodnight.”
“Mm, g’night,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into your neck before allowing his sleep to consume him.
#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller pedro pascal#tlou fanfiction#tlou imagine#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#fic: tdtrt
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you're losing me !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she's losing him and he's not fighting for her either.
or
for when you lose someone you thought you'd spend your lifetime with. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader
sequel - i hope i never lose you ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - my heart broke while writing this :// still, i hope u like it!! lmk if u want a part ii though i'll write it anyway. i love you, thank you for reading <3
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yourusername when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
9,926 comments
username MOTHER?????
username max :///
username if they break up i simply give up, it's that easy x
lewishamilton sending you hugs and love from me and roscoe ❤️
-> yourusername missing you both ❤️
username guys............what if they did b word u word ?
-> username don't spread lies 😘😘😘
-> username they break up and i stop believing in love ☺️
lilymhe i could be a better boyfriend just saying 😮💨
-> yourusername you're already my wife 😘
username we really went from "the first flowers he ever brought me became my favourite" to "when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst" huh
username im just gonna ignore this!!
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maxverstappen1 pole position!!
very happy that we managed to put the best bits together for qualifying today! great work by everyone in the team redbullracing & hondaracingglobal 👏
looking forward to be racing again tomorrow 👌
7,972 comments
username NO Y/N????????
username im delulu
username is it just me or did he not seem really into it like idk
-> username if me and my fiancée broke up i'd be the same
danielricciardo proud of you mate! 👏
username need y/n to comment rn so i can be at peace
username nice prank guys 😐😐 REALLY funny 😐😐😐
username NO BC THE WAY HE ALMOST MENTIONED Y/N WHILE TALKING TO A REPORTER BUT STOPPED HIMSELF
-> username NO BC MY HEART BROKE SEEING
-> username they're really over huh
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f1newzzz formula one driver, max verstappen and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n called it quits on their engagement, source close to the pair claimed. "they just wanted different things, their goals weren't aligning," the source explained, "marriage had seemed like the picture perfect ending at that time, when max had proposed, but in the long run, they both would've been very unhappy." though the exact reason for their split isn't very clear, many speculate that it was actually verstappen who ended their 11 month engagement. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
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username ur telling me that the woman who wrote "your past and mine are parallel lines, stars all aligned and they intertwined" about her man wanted "different things"??????? ok.
username max i just wanna talk ☺️☺️☺️
username no bc they were so in love everyone could see it
username she did not write "i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw u" for u to write this fucking shit post
username "she's been my rock, my biggest supporter, my proudest fan and im very grateful for her, forever will be. i don't deserve her and i don't know what good i did to have her in my life but im very glad i do" NO WAY HE BROKE UP WITH HER
username idk man if u write 3+ albums about someone and stuff like "all that u ever wanted from me was sweet nothing" or "all's well that ends well to end up with u" the universe should it impossible for u to break up
username just a daily reminder that u should drink rat poison before falling in love bc it never works out
username the day i stopped believing in love
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yourusername you're losing me is finally yours. this is easily the most vulnerable, heartbreaking, raw and personal song that i have ever written and sharing it with you all is like sharing a big piece of myself. you are, at some point in their life, at a place where you're begging someone to love you the way you love them and i think that's a saddest thing someone can do, i've been there. this song is a messy compilation of my feelings, my thoughts and the enigma in my mind, i hope you like it. and finally, to that one person, thank you for being my forever. it was real.
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username I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EITHER A PATHOLOGICAL PEOPLE PLEASER WHO ONLY WANTED YOU TO SEE HER
username the way we went from "i'd marry u with paper rings" to "i wouldn't marry me either"
username DO SOMETHING BABE SAY SOMETHING
danielricciardo in awe of you and your talent 🤍🤍🤍🤍
-> yourusername danny i heart you
username no bc what really hurts is that throughout her albums and songs she's always been like "i can't wait to marry you!!!!" like from lover and paper rings and now it's hinted that max didn't wanna marry her and the way she's trying not to blame him by saying "i wouldn't marry me either"
-> username "she would've made such a lovely bride what a shame she's fucked in her head" to "i wouldn't marry me either"
username the way that some people were saying that they got married secretly and the whole time they were broken up and she still continued to act like everything was fine like my heart's hurting for her
username "thank you for being my forever, it was real" IM CRYING IH NY GKD
carmenmmundt the most talented person i know 🤍 i love you so much y/n/n
-> yourusername you own my heart 💌
username the 1 is gonna start hitting different now
-> username "it would've been fun if u would've been the one"
username her heartbeat in the song i died.
username thinking about "he didn't try at all though" vs. "do something babe say something"
#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#fake instagram imagines#social media au#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x fem!reader#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen imagines
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Every Second Of Everyday
Note - I’m running out of fics 😭 this one was never supposed to see the light of day but here we are. I hope you enjoy and I’d love some feedback 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 6k
Warnings - angst, fluff & smut
‘So yeah I mean Its really easy, you just have to buy in the dip but obviously you need to know when that is, I can totally teach you if you want me too”
‘Oh yeah sounds… super interesting’
Not.
Listening to a man you’d only met properly an hour and a half ago waffle on about crypto currency and NFT’s was not how you imagined your Wednesday would be going. You had no idea what he was going on about, and you didn’t care either. Disappointment had flooded through you from about ten minutes into the date, he seemed so different from when you’d been messaging. He barely asked you anything about yourself and spent the whole time trying to explain, or rather boast, to you what he did for a living.
‘I’m just popping to the loo, be back in a sec’ he smiled as he stood from his chair. You smiled back and nodded lightly, watching him walk away from you as you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thankful you were finally alone but not two seconds later you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You quickly pulled it out to check it wasn’t an emergency, having not looked at it the whole way through lunch, not wanting to be rude, but the name that flashed up was the last person you thought it would be.
Mason
What the hell did he want?
You and Mason were… complicated. You knew how you felt about him and you were pretty sure he felt the same but for some reason nothing has ever come of it. You’d grown up best friends with Lauren James and her bother Reece, so it was inevitable you’d meet Mason sooner or later. Reece had always mentioned him growing up to the point where you felt like you knew him already sometimes, but you kept yourself slightly separate from that part of their lives, wanting to be the escape from football.
The moment of you meeting Mason came just under six months ago. The season had been over for a week and Reece was throwing a party at his house meaning Lauren insisted you came with her. Reece introduced you to Mason within the first ten minutes of you stepping in the door and you were hooked on him from the first look.
You obviously knew who he was but you tried to play it cool and make out you didn’t. Mason bought your calm exterior hook, line and sinker, telling you that you weren’t like most of the girls he meets at these things. You spent most of that night in his company, laughing at his stupid attempts to make you smile and falling for those gorgeous brown eyes every time you looked in them. He wasn’t anything like you thought he’d be, you were expecting an ego the size of a truck to match his perfect face but as time went on you realised he was just a normal guy who did a not so normal job. You exchanged numbers at the end of the night, him kissing your cheek promising to text you the very next day and you didn’t expect anything from him with how busy he was yet when you woke up the next day with a message from him your tummy had erupted into butterflies.
It had all started out so well, cute texts here and there and promises of seeing each other as soon as you could but nothing ever materialised. You got it, he was Mason Mount and you were you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The texts mostly dried up, only checking in with each other here and there and only seeing each other at social events. You’d made peace with the fact nothing probably would ever happen yet that didn’t stop him from getting his way when he wanted.
He would always make eye contact with you from across the room when you were together, smirking cheekily when he noticed the blush taking over your cheeks as his come to bed eyes raked over you hungrily. He liked the fact he could do that to you and he seemed to make it his mission to tease the life out of you. His hands always finding your waist as he passed behind you, or sitting as close as he could to you on the sofa so he could run his fingers over your thighs.
You loved and hated every second of it.
You thought he was unbelievably attractive and it only took a flash of his perfect smile to get you hot under the collar. Every time his tongue poked out between his lips to wet them made your knees weak and you were pretty certain no other boy had made you feel like this before. It wasn’t all bad, and you soon fell for his goofy playful side. Admiring the way he was always making people, yourself included, laugh at his stupid jokes and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t have a fear of making himself look like a prat. You found him awfully endearing when he wasn’t trying to get under your skin so the stupid little crush you had on him didn’t face in the slightest.
But in the last two months it had become unbearable. He was a lot braver with his actions and one night after a little bit too much to drink he’d cornered you in the kitchen, pressing feather light kisses to the top of your shoulder from behind you and slowly making his way up your neck as you were trying grab a glass. No words were exchanged as he pressed his lips to your skin, knowing he’d followed you in hoping to catch you alone and If it hadn’t been for the loud crash coming from the other room you would have let him carry on. It seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in though and after giving you a quick wink he turned on his heel and left you stood flabbergasted.
You told yourself that night that whatever game he was playing was over. You weren’t one to stick up for yourself, clearly, but you couldn’t stand another second of him having this weird hold over you without it leading anywhere. The next morning you dowloaded a dating app, telling yourself you needed to get out there and meet some different people and see what happens. Show him that he wasn’t free to keep dangling ideas in front of your face without acting on them.
Which is how you need up in this situation today.
Charlie had seemed nice when you matched him a few days ago. He was cute and and he made you laugh but being sat opposite him was a complete other story. This was the third different date you’d been on in a month and you were starting to loose all hope of finding anyone that made you feel a fraction of what Mason did.
You sighed as you unlocked your phone to see what he wanted but your blood ran cold as you opened up the message.
It was you.
Well the back of you anyway, sat in the exact place you were right now. You slowly turned round and your eyes locked onto his right away, sat three tables back and slightly off to the left. You whipped back around before he could do anything else and tried to calm you racing heart.
What are the bloody chances?
As soon as you finished your thought, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Mason coming through.
Why is this happening to me?
You chose to ignore it, locking your phone and turning it over, hoping he would see you’re not in the mood to talk to him. He didn’t get the hint though and you groaned under your breath as his final text come through.
You hated to admit that his assertiveness made you clench your thighs together, but there was no way in hell you were going home with him. Well that’s what you told yourself anyway.
Charlie returned from the loo soon after and after a small back and forth, you agreed to let him pay for lunch. He was putting his pin in when you saw Mason heading for the door, sending you a small smile as he made his way outside. You continued looking at him as he said goodbye to his friend and made his way over to his car. The only thought in your brain being about how good he looked in something as simple as a black T-shirt and cargos, one of your favourite things to see him in and you only snapped out of your trance when Charlie let out a small cough.
‘Sorry, I was in my own little world there’ you apologised with a smile and he just smiled in return. ‘You up too much the rest of the day?’ You enquired, hoping he was so you could make a swift exit and thankfully for you he nodded.
‘Unfortunately yes, I need to get back home and check my stocks, but I’ve really enjoyed this, we’ll have to do it again some time’ he smiled and rather than let him down gently you just nodded, gathering your things so you could get out of there and away from him as quickly as possible. He walked you to the door and put his arm around you awkwardly before leaving a light kiss on your cheek. ‘See you around then y/n’. He smiled and all you could do was smile back before he walked off, thankfully in the opposite direction than you needed.
Now you were rid of him, there was one other person you needed to send on their way before you could go home and think over your life decisions whilst drowing yourself in the tub of ben and Jerrys in your freezer.
You eyes scanned over to Masons car, still parked up, and you walked to him slowly. Telling yourself to be strong and get it over with quickly and once you were at his drivers side window you tapped on it lightly three times before the window came down revealing a slightly confused looking Mason.
‘What you doing? your doors on the other side’ he winked ‘come on, get in’
‘Yeah about that, I don’t think it’s a good idea I’m just gonna head home. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing anyway’ you told him. Not meaning for it to come out sounding so bitter and clearly Mason picked up on it, his smile quickly turning into a frown.
‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’
You just shrugged and he studied your face for a second before he opened his door. You stepped back slightly but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, slotting you in-between his legs as he sat side on.
‘Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages. Why don’t you wanna hang out?’ He asked quietly. He was giving you his best puppy dog eyes they were really working on you, he looked genuinely upset you didn’t want to spend time with him. His hands planted themselves on your waist, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under your top. His gentle touch was making you fold and he knew it. “Please y/n, just for a little while? I promise I’ll take you home after’ he pouted, and you cursed at yourself in your head for giving into him so quickly but you couldn’t think straight when his hands were on you and he was looking at you like he was.
‘Fine, but I can’t stay long’ you lied. You had all day free, you just weren’t sure you’d be able to handle a whole afternoon of his antics.
He gave you that cheeky smile he always did, but released you so you could jump into his passenger seat. The whole ride to his house was perfect, this was the Mason you liked, no teasing or getting you flustered for his own entertainment. He asked you how you’d been and he seemed genuinely interested when you answered, a stark contrast from the lunch you had just endured and he seemed just as excited to fill you in on everything you’d missed out on in his life recently.
Once you’d arrived at his, he led you through to the kitchen to grab you both a drink, telling you to make yourself comfy on his sofa. You’d been to his house a handful of times but always with other people, today being the first time it was just the two of you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. You tried to relax into the corner of the L shaped sofa, telling yourself you’re just catching up with a friend and there was nothing to fret over. Mason soon returned and placed your drink down on his coffee table before flopping down right next to you, his thigh pressed right up against yours and his arm resting across the back of the sofa behind you. You could feel the tips of his fingers stroking over the material of your top making you even more dazed than before.
‘So you gonna tell me who that was you were having lunch with?’ He asked. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was on a mission to poke fun at you now and you sighed quietly. Knowing it was too good to be true that maybe for once you could just be normal with each other.
‘Just a guy’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘Just curious’ he smirked. You knew he was trying to get at you so you thought you’d try and match his energy.
‘His name is Charlie, he’s a crypto billionaire’ you tried to say confidently but as soon as the words flew out your mouth you wished you could of stuffed them back in. Like Mason would care how much money he had? Charlie didn’t even have a fraction of a billion but you were desperate at that point to make him a little jealous. You mentally face palmed yourself when you saw Masons eyebrow twitch up into somewhat of an ammused smirk.
‘Right… and how did you meet Charlie the crypto king?’
You didn’t want to tell him how, but the longer you sat there trying to think of another way you knew he wouldn’t believe you, so you just went with the truth.
‘We matched on hinge’ you said quietly, avoiding his gaze, but you head shot up when you heard his little giggle. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh come off it y/n, what’s a girl like you doing looking for guys on hinge?’
‘What do you mean a girl like me?’ You scowled. You were starting to get really annoyed with him, hoping he’d choose his next words carefully so you didn’t blow up in his face.
‘I just didn’t think a gorgeous girl like yourself would look twice at any of the guys on there’ he said with a shrug. You tried to brush past the compliment but you could feel your cheeks burning up already, knowing it was giving Mason a kick to see the effect his words had on you. ’He was nowhere near good enough for you, I could tell by the way you were sitting you weren’t feeling it. Its like you’re boredom was radiating across the room’
‘Oh yeah cause you know so much about me Mason’
‘Id like to think so, yeah’ he winked, the hand resting on his thigh now making its way onto yours. You had to ball your fists at your sides in order to keep calm. ‘If you wanted a lunch date you could of always called me, I know you’d rather have me sat opposite you’
‘You’re unbelievable’ you growled, finally rising to you feet and and making a beeline for the door.
‘Hey come on y/n don’t be like this, I’m only messing’ He teased as he jumped up after you and reached out for your arm to stop you, but you’d finally had enough. Seeing red, you yanked your arm out of his grasp and turned to face him. Ready to give him a piece of your mind.
‘You know what Mason? Yeah maybe he was a bit boring but at least he had the guts to ask me out’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘All you do is lead me on, you make me feel like you like me and then you go cold on me its fucking exhausting. Do you think I want to be meeting up with randomers off hinge?’ You barked at him. He seemed slightly taken aback by your outburst but his eyes were looking at you hungrily. He’d never seen this side of you before and he was loving it. ‘You’re so full of yourself all the time, thinking you can just invite me back here and i’ll come running? I’m so sick of your shit-‘
Before you could think about what was happening, Mason had pulled you into him and his lips were on yours. Slowly walking you back until you were pressed up against the nearest wall, one hand on your waist, the other lightly wrapped around your throat.
He kissed better than you ever imagined he could and you cursed yourself for moaning into his mouth. The feel of his smile on your lips frustrated you even more than you thought possible and his mouth soon detached from yours as he flipped you round. Your chest now pressed to the wall, his front leaning into your back and you could just start to feel him hardening against your bum.
‘This what you wanted from me yeah?’ He whispered into your ear. You turned your face to try and look at him over your shoulder, but his lips on the other side of your neck made you close your eyes. He could feel the way your breathing was getting shallower as his fingertips raked up your side and he was eager to see just how far he could push you. ‘You still sick of my shit or you want me to keep going?’
‘Keep going’ you whimpered quietly, the words coming out your mouth before your brain could figure out what you wanted to say, and you felt him smile against your neck.
‘Good girl’
‘Im not your good girl, mase’ you countered but you knew you were just lying yourself. You always had been and you always would be.
He turned you back round and tucked your loose hairs behind your ears before leaning down and kissing you again lightly. ‘We’ll see’ he breathed into your mouth. ‘Go sit back down for me yeah?’ He asked but you waited a moment, both looking at each other to see who would break first but you could tell he wasn’t budging so you silently made you way back over to his sofa. Your fingertips touching your lips as you still couldn’t believe after all this time you’d finally kissed him.
He stood studying you for a few seconds before following you over, however instead of taking up his seat from before, he knelt down infront of you. Parting your knees and slotting himself in between them. His hands came to rest on either sides of your hips and his face now dangerously close to yours.
‘I know we’ve got some things we need to talk about, but can you please let me make you feel good first?’ He whispered, kissing you again softly. ‘I think it’s just best we get this out our system cause there’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything serious if all I can think about is what’s under these clothes’
You were having an internal battle, obviously you wanted him but would it just make everything afterwards more difficult? Was he just saying this to get one over on you? He could see you were struggling with what to do so he kissed your neck trying to show you how much he needed you.
‘Please baby, just a taste’ he whispered just below your ear and you felt your whole body erupt in goosebumps. Fuck he was good. It was like he knew exactly what to say and do to you. You knew you were wrapped around his finger but up until now you hadn’t realised how much. ‘You can trust me I promise’
Could you trust him?
The only thing on your mind was the thought of him getting you down to your underwear and then him telling you it’s all a joke. That this was just a new low for him to try and get one over on you but you knew Reece would kick him into next week if he ever tried something like that and the look in Masons eyes also settled you a bit.
You wanted to say no but you you were too caught up in him finally giving you what you wanted. Thinking to yourself, even if this is all you ever got from him then you’d find a way to live with it. You just couldn’t refuse him when he was in between your thighs, promising to make it worth you while. So you nodded and kissed him back, a little deeper this time, parting your lips so he could slip in tongue in when he silently asked for permission.
God he was so good at this, you thought as his hands came to rest at the waistband of you jeans. Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner? if I had to pick between breathing or kissing Mason, I think id choose the latter.
His fingers slowly made their way to the button on your jeans, and he pulled back, looking at your face to make sure you were still comfortable. You nodded at him so he carried on, unzipping you before tapping your thigh so you would lift your hips in order for him to rid you of them. Next to come off was your top, leaving you with only your bra on underneath, thanking the lord you’d decided to put a nice one on this morning. Feeling your slight discomfort at being the only one without clothes on, he peeled his own top from his body, tossing it over the back of his sofa.
You’d seen pictures of his body before and knew what it looked like under certain things but seeing it like this in person made your mouth water. He was flawless.
His kisses resumed and then he made his way down your neck, across your collar bones and down your chest. As he mouth was nearing where you needed him, you sank back into the cushions. You felt his lips dance across the band of your underwear before he hooked his thumbs under and pulled them down you legs.
‘So fucking perfect’ he murmured between kisses over your hips and thighs, the sound of his voice made your tummy flip with anticipation.
You were torn between looking at him or laying back and just enjoying it, so you grabbed and cushion and stuffed it behind you, giving you the perfect view of what he was about to do to you. You were growing impatient with his gentle kisses on you inner thighs, wishing he would just burry his face in you already so you threaded your fingers through his hair and attempted to guide him to where you needed him. You felt him smirk against you, placing one final kiss against you before giving you what you wanted.
He teased your folds apart slowly with his tongue, and when he made contact with your clit, circling over it slowly a few times, you let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
You couldn’t help his name falling off your lips and he moaned into you at the sound. A sound he’d been waiting forever to hear. You felt your breathing deepen as he got into his rhythm, bringing his fingers up to spread you apart even further. Your moans for him only growing louder and it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going, eventually slipping those same fingers inside of you to heighten your pleasure.
‘You taste so fucking good’ he growled and pumped his fingers into you a little faster, hitting the spot that made you cry out. ‘That feel good baby?’
‘Yes Mase, so fucking good, please keep going im so close’
If you weren’t so horrifically turned on then you might have been embarrassed about how quickly he’d managed to get you to this point but you didn’t care. You felt too good to think about anything else.
‘Come on baby, be good for me and cum’ he moaned against you and you thought in that moment you you would have done anything he asked you to. Why did he have to be so good at everything?
It only took a few more seconds and you were cumming over his fingers, his mouth still working on you to ride you through it, and when he felt like you’re breathing had calmed down, he kissed his way back up your body to you lips. You let out a small hum as you tasted yourself on his lips, a slight giggle coming from you and you tried to hide in his neck out of embarrassment. He couldn’t help but laugh himself as he sat down next to you, pulling you into his lap, both slightly overwhelmed with what had just taken place. He reached behind him for the blanket he kept there, wrapping it around the both of you.
After a few moments of silence you felt his lips lightly press on your forehead before he muttered the words ‘i’m sorry’
Ah shit.
This was part you were dreading. The first thought coming to mind was him telling you he’s sorry for making you think the two of you could be anymore than you already were. You told yourself you were fine with it, but the feeling of your heart sinking told you you weren’t.
He must of felt your disappointment, his arm tightening around you slightly whilst his other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes looked soft and from the slight smile that played on his lips you thought it best to see what he had to say rather than get up and run.
‘All the cocky bullshit with you, it’s always just been a front. Truth is, the way you make me feel scares the shit out of me’ he told you gently. Your eyes pleaded with him to carry on, but the tsunami in his tummy was holding him back. He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes, figuring it might be easier to tell you how he felt if he wasn’t looking straight at you.
‘I’ve liked you from the first moment I saw you. Before that even’ he chuckled. ‘Recce talked about you all the time and I’ve always wanted to meet you but you make me more nervous than anyone else I’ve ever known. I think about you every second of everyday and I kick myself that I’ve never been able to just grow a pair and tell you’
You could feel his heart racing in his chest, the tempo matching your own at his words. You slowly stroked your thumb over his hand in an attempt to calm him so he could carry on, your gentle touches only making him fall for you even more.
‘I guess I just thought if we carried on the way we were then I’d still sort of have you. Like the fear of you rejecting me was worse than only having you a little bit’ he chuckled and you nuzzled into his neck a little at his confession. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel as bad as I did though, half the time I wasn’t even trying to tease you I just wanted to be near you. I know I should of just asked you how you felt but if you haven’t noticed I’m not all that smart sometimes’
You shifted on his lap so he’s had to look at you, you noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks from all of his confessions and all you wanted to do was kiss him. His smile mirrored your own and you were now ready to share your feelings in the same way he just had.
‘Why don’t you ask me now?’
‘Huh?’
‘Ask me how I feel about you’
He took in a deep breath and shook his head lightly with a smile, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. ‘How you do you feel about me, y/n?’
Come on girl, you got this.
‘I think about you every second of everyday, too’ you whispered, causing him to giggle and burry his head in your hair. ‘It’s true, I’ve always liked you Mase. Maybe I could have been a bit braver and told you first but I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t know for sure you liked me the way I like you and I guess I was kinda the same? I was alright with having you a little bit but that fear of rejection was holding me back’ you told him and you felt him nod into your hair and hold you that tiny bit closer. ‘I didn’t wanna go on dates with other guys but I couldn’t take not having you anymore and figured it would be a good distraction so I could move on from you but no one ever made me feel like you do’
He moved again so he could look at you, his thumb stroking over your jaw softly and a slight look of guilt dressed his face. ‘I’m sorry I made it get to that point I never meant to make you feel that way. I hated seeing you out with someone else today like it proper hurt but I suppose it gave me the kick up the backside i needed.’ you chucked and turned your face in his hand to kiss his palm. It felt amazing to finally be this close to him but the little voice in the back of your head was stopping you from fully enjoying it. Mason must have sensed your change and tilted your face back up towards his. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothings wrong, just what happens now? Where do we go from here?’
‘Well if you’d let me, I’d love to take you for dinner tonight. Like a proper date?’
‘Two dates with two different men in one day, what will people think of me’ you teased and he just laughed at your silliness.
‘Yeah well I’m saying this mornings one didn’t count. I have a funny feeling you won’t be seeing Charlie the crypto king any time soon’
You felt your face flush in embarrassment but his lips on your cheek made you smile. You snuggled into him more and he moved to lay down taking you with him and after a few moments of silence you felt his breathing getting heavier so you kissed his chest and settled down next to him.
‘Wake me up in ten minutes’ you heard him say softly and you tried to hold your giggle in at his antics.
‘Sure thing Mase’ you whispered and lent back as the face you adored slowly drifted off.
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WHY'D YOU LET ME LET YOU GO? Satoru G.
They say that time takes away the pain, but you're still the same. After the divorce with Satoru, you were summoned to Jujutsu High to help him with a case, but it soon becomes clear that the pain from the breakup is still very much alive. As the two of you work together, you can't help but wonder if time really does heal all wounds, or if some wounds are just too deep to ever truly heal.
♱ pairing: Satoru Gojo x afab!reader
♱ content: hurt-comfort/no comfort (that really depends on you ;)), angst, toxic relationship, MATURE. unprotected sex, baby trapping. jjk S1.
♱ a/n: ksugurwho, thank you for visiting my haunted mansion. take this jewelry box that you so courageously searched in my basement. until next time and have a twisted halloween. 🖤
♱ wc: 3k
5k event masterlist
You have mostly been keeping yourself busy since the divorce from Satoru, working hard as a sorcerer outside the school, determined to show your ex-husband that his opinion of you didn’t matter. You were in the middle of examining a curse under a private employer, when you unexpectedly received a message from the authorities of Jujutsu High.
Shoko said she “needs your second opinion”. This of course gave you a sense of pride, and the fact that she mentioned your ex referred you by name was a big deal. So as you entered the school to consult a case, you weren’t surprised to see Gojo waiting for you.
“Thank you for coming.” He calmly spoke and bowed alongside Shoko and Ijichi. You bow in response before listening to them go over the incident involving a student while walking towards the morgue. “The kid is only a first year student, [ Y / N ]. But this had never happened before… he’s a vessel.” Shoko explained.
“A vessel? Like… he turned into a curse?” You wondered.
“Sort of… he ate one of Sukuna’s fingers which gave him that ability.” She replied.
“The king of curses?!” You exclaimed, almost stopping your tracks.
Satoru found himself surprisingly drawn to your voice as you made your way through the hallways to the morgue. Even though your marriage had ended, he had missed your mere presence in his life, despite all of the pain and heartache you caused each other.
“Exactly. A unique case, right?” Shoko nodded as she led everyone into the morgue. You watch Shoko uncover the boy’s body, a huge tear in his chest that devoid him of color.
“What was his name?” Your voice is slightly muffled by a face mask as you put on a pair of gloves.
“Itadori Yuuji.” Satoru answered flatly while he sat in a corner with Ijichi.
“Your student?” You asked as politely as you can, out of respect for the kid.
“Did you even listen to a word Shoko said earlier?” He spoke as he sat on a manspread, avoiding your gaze.
“Tch…” You snarled softly, ready to bite back until Shoko stopped you with her arm. “Hey, hey, this isn’t going to be a problem, remember?” She softly reminded. You knew that you are way more professional than your ex, and you were determined to prove yourself not just because the Gojo Satoru had referred you, but because you knew that you are more than capable of handling the case with your ability.
You took a second to look at the kid, offering a moment of silence and wishing him peace— something that you always did before examining deceased sorcerers. Until you noticed the tear on his chest start to close up, as if it was healing itself. You were convinced that this kid was already dead, so you were too shocked to process what was happening, nor to tell anyone in the room.
“We are about to start, are you just gonna sit there and watch?” Shoko was looking at the two men talking as Yuuji casually got up like he was waking up from a nap, which left you more baffled.
Ijichi was terrified, but Satoru was smiling to himself, seeming relieved.
“I’m kinda disappointed, I was looking forward to working with [ Y / N ].” Shoko frowned.
“This is kinda embarrassing. Who are you?” Yuuji looked at you two.
“Yuuji. Welcome back.” Satoru enthusiastically walked up to him.
“Sup, good to be back!” You watched in a mix of emotions as the two hi-fived. The scene reminded you too much of a particular spiky-haired child you used to sort of mother a while back… While you were still newly dating, Satoru took Megumi and Tsumiki in after the death of their father and raised them as if they were his own, alongside you.
With a bittersweet smile, you couldn’t help but picture Megumi now. He must be around Yuji’s age, maybe even his classmate. After all, he was just only learning the basics of his cursed technique by the time you dropped the Gojo last name.
Satoru excused himself with Shoko while you were left to clothe Yuji and give him an examination. You picked up the pace, eager to see Megumi and Tsumiki again. Yuji thanked you with a kind smile for giving him a check-up, before turning to Ijichi.
Discarding your medical gear and coat, you hurried outside the morgue to catch up on Satoru and Shoko.
“Satoru…” you followed Gojo through the hallways, feeling a sense of longing for the children you looked after together. You love them like their own, and the fact that you hadn't been able to see them since the divorce was painful. Satoru didn't know, but you occasionally sent messages to Megumi when you could.
“I want to see the two.” Shoko tensed a little and diverted her attention to something else, distancing herself, knowing that this is something between you and Satoru.
“Hmm… I'm not sure.” Satoru hesitated, knowing full well that he was being petty by not just giving her a straight answer. He knew that he was hurting you by not letting you see the kids, but he couldn't help but feel some resentment towards you for the way you didn't check on them after your marriage, unbeknownst to him.
You were hurt by his response. You knew that both you and Satoru had both made mistakes in your marriage, but you couldn't help but feel like you had lost more than just your husband. You lost the home you made with him and the Fushiguro siblings, and the fact that you're not sure if you can see them was like a knife in your heart. But you refused to let it show. You knew that he was just doing it to rile you up, but you can play this game with him like you did for years.
“I have the right to see them too, Satoru. We took them in together.” It was a long shot, but reminding him of the past was a bad idea. “I told you, you're not their legal guardian.” He flatly spoke. “Because you never fuckin let me be!” Satoru remained silent.
He had always been protective of the two, and [ Y / N ]. He didn't push through with the legal matters of it, because if anything untimely and unfortunate happened, Satoru did not want her to make tough calls, or have the children orphaned once more if anything happens to her. It was something he believed was in his hands, something he had to do alone.
This issue of responsibility and trust was something that had driven you apart since during your marriage, and it was a source of ongoing tension until now.
Nonetheless, you felt the right to see Megumi and Tsumiki again.
“Fine. You can see them after I return Yuuji.” Satoru finally answered.
“Return Yuuji?” You ask, puzzled.
“He remains 'dead' while I train him before the exchange event.” He explained.
“Are you nuts?! You're gonna hide the kid away while his friends think he's dead then you bring him back like potluck?!”
“Exactly. Megumi is going to be shocked.” Satoru smirked.
You scoffed in disbelief, “He's Megumi's buddy?! You're gonna do that to him?!”
“You're overreacting! So what? As if you know what he is like now! Don't tell me how to parent him.” As they began to bicker, you and Satoru found yourselves slipping back into your old patterns. You continue to bicker and argue with him, just as you had in the past.
This gave Shoko time to light a cigarette and look over the balcony, finishing the stick while you continued to bicker nearby. She couldn't even make out what you are arguing about by this point.
“I mean, who even does that?! That's just so fucked up. What if I pull that shit on you with Suguru, huh?” You felt a sense of frustration building inside you, and the pettiness reaching a new level… you knew it was a moment of weakness, a low blow, and you knew it immediately after you said it.
But you just couldn't shake the feeling that you had been backed into a corner, and that Satoru was determined to be the one in control of the situation.
Shoko's expression grew as you mentioned Suguru's name, and she knew that you struck a nerve. As they stood there in awkward silence, Shoko got in between the two of you.
“That's enough.” Shoko stepped between you as she saw the anger in his eyes and knew that it was about to boil over. She could see that the two of you were being petty towards each other, and that it wasn't helping the situation
"Let's not let our emotions get the best of us," Shoko said, her voice firm but calm. “You two need to focus on the case at hand. You can discuss this later.” She pointed out.
As Satoru eagerly welcomed the students from Kyoto, Megumi and Nobara stood off to the side. They were both visibly shaken by Yuuji's sudden return, contrary to what their sensei expected. “You got something to say?” Nobara asks, still baffled.
“Everyone, come with me. We have a guest I’d like you to meet.” Satoru turned to his students with a smile.
He walked into the office with them, and Megumi in particular was surprised, not expecting to see you today. As he walked up to you, you got up and gave him a warm hug. You wished that you should have been there for them the way you wanted it to be,and you were just so lighthearted to see him again. Despite the tension, Megumi couldn't help but smile softly, accepting the gesture.
“[ Y / N ]-sama, when did you arrive?” He asked after bowing.
“I was actually here a couple of days ago to help with Yuji.” You explained.
“You didn’t tell...”
“Well, someone said keep it a secret.” You mumbled, fixing up Megumi’s uniform.
“I can hear you.” Satoru replied, and you rolled your eyes.
“You hear someone talking, Megumi?” You said and pulled him aside. “Come on, let’s get some drinks.”
While the seniors talked to each other, the students sat on a separate table having drinks. Nobara couldn't help but notice the tense atmosphere in the room, and she knew that there was a lot of tension between their sensei and the woman he introduced. “Is it just me but there’s a lot of tension between Gojo-sensei and [ Y / N ]-sama?”
“They used to be married.” Megumi casually spoke while drinking from his cup.
“What?!” Yuuji and Nobara exclaimed, bringing themselves closer to the boy. “So, she’s like, your step-mom?” Yuuji asks. “I don’t call her that.” Fushiguro visibly regrets revealing this information to the two too soon.
“They must’ve married young then.” Nobara wondered.
“That’s why they kept bickering at the morgue…” Yuuji recalled.
“Why did they break up?”
“Dunno. Can’t remember.” Megumi truthfully answered.
“Fushiguro shall have them back together again… this means one thing— parent trap!” Yuuji spoke dramatically.
“Right… If they reconcile, sensei is going to be in a good mood all the time.” Nobara agreed. Megumi had his face in his palms just by listening to the two’s bizarre ideas. “Here’s our plan...— they’re leaving.” He cut off Yuuji.
“What a shame.” Nobara shrugged and opened another can of cola.
Meanwhile, Satoru was already approaching you and asked if you could talk in his office, away from any prying ears.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Satoru dropped the question. Your eyes filled with pain as he asked you that. You had thought about this question so many times, and had always struggled to find the right words to answer it. You knew that you didn't hate him, you were just hurt and bitter, and you wished he had tried harder on being your husband while still serving the jujutsu world.
But she also knew that he had his own resentments, his own burden to carry, and she couldn't blame him for that. She just wished that he had been there for her in the way that she had always been there for him. And as they stood there, looking at each other, they both felt the weight of all that had happened between them.
“You hate me!” Satoru couldn't deny it, he had acted like he didn't need you in his life, but he realized that he did. You meant more to him than he let on, and he hated himself for making himself believe otherwise, leading him to be resentful towards you.
You only wanted to be there for Satoru when everything fell apart. When Suguru fell into the darkness, Shoko became distant, and he carried all collateral damage, you thought it could make you stronger. But it only drove you further apart. It is clear that it wasn't enough. Satoru was struggling to deal with his own pain, and it was spilling out into your relationship in the worst ways possible. You tried to be strong for him, to hold things together, but it was clear that it was only making things worse.
“It shouldn't be like this… Satoru. Everyone should be in there right now, poking fun at your students or something…” You pointed at the door.
“Everyone? You know who is "everyone" to me, [ Y / N ]?” Satoru asks, mirroring your words.
“Everyone is… my smartest and sweetest friend who I never see anymore, my best friend and other half who I should have given more time to, and my ex-wife who I probably should have ended up with and raised the kids with.” He painfully spoke, enumerating each of them. “There's so much going on in all of our lives right now… but all of us hanging out at Shoko's, being young and stupid… we weren't meant to do that forever.”
“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have come here to see you.” You shed a tear, turning to the door. But before you could make another move, Satoru pulled you into a hug, feeling the weight of all of his pain and everything he had been holding back since seeing you again. It was so heavy that you both fell on your knees, still holding each other and tears welling your eyes.
His firm grasp caught you off guard but you embraced it, not wanting to let go. You felt the weight of all that you had been through together, all over again, but you still did not want to let go. Like instinct, Satoru leaned in for a kiss, returning it with a passion that you didn't know was still there.
He was able to grab your thighs and lift you with ease. You kicked off your shoes and pulled off your coat, while your ex-husband opened his uniform, teasing you to his cut abs.
Satoru didn't take his eyes off of your full tits, the cleavage peeking from your low neckline, and your thighs firm in his palms. He's still in love with your body all these years, filling out all in the right places. His dick throbs just thinking about the new things he could do to you.
His eyes flicker down to yours. “Do you think about this? Having me fuck you again? No one else does it like I do.”
“All the time,” You admit, recalling all the lonely nights you missed his touch. Now you're experiencing it and it doesn't feel real at all. You feel like I've crossed another dimension, one where your body is actually worthy of having his against it once again.
He pulls himself away and lays you on your back with a grunt. You suck in a breath as he hovers over you and then hear his pants being discarded. placing his hand on your waist, he brings his face down next to yours and his hips suddenly thrust in a gradual rhythm, your walls accommodating his length in a reunion. It had been way too long…
“I never stopped thinking what it would feel like to grab your hips and fuck you like a doll.” He growls. He leans back and grips harder, his nails leaving marks. You feel them desperately dig into your flesh as he thrusts forward while I push you hips back to meet him. “Fuck, [ Y / N ]. Yes,” He groans. “You're gonna make me come hard in your pussy if you keep doing that."
Holy. Shit.
His voice is nothing but orgasmic. Deep, guttural, and fucking sexy. You keep doing your movements, arching your back back and meeting his thrust for thrust.
His groans got louder and you breathe raggedly as you clutch your hand to the edge, feeling him reach an area inside you that is triggering your body in ways you've never felt before.
“I feel you getting tighter, honey,” He whispered, addressing you by the pet name he called you when you were briefly married. “Can you feel my cock getting harder for you? Fuck, you're so damn wet.”
The guttural sound of his voice brings you to a dangerous high. You curse beneath your breath and then bite into your bottom lip, feeling that same feeling you had when his tongue played tricks with your pussy for the first time. You were building up second by second, on the verge of climax.
“What if you'd just give me a baby of our own…” You pant as he continues clutching your hip. His mouth falls to the bend of your neck, his lips caressing the sensitive skin there, and you can't take it. “Tempting.” He smirked and his hips stuttered, his tip releasing beads of precum.
“Please…Satoru…” It spills from your lips again and again as he meets you thrust for thrust, you let go, body vulnerable and sensitive to his touch.
He starts to pound after pound, skin clapping together as he lets out a deep, hoarse groan and his dick starts to throb inside your pussy.
You knew what was coming, and so with all your strength, you lifted your legs to his waist and locked himself inside of you.
“Shit… [ Y / N ]... Nng-need to pull out…” His voice was more desperate than you've ever heard it— raw and vulnerable, as if he's needed to cum like this in ages. You couldn't fight your smile when you saw that desperate look on his face and his dick throbbing.
You couldn't imagine how much cum he's spilled, but it seemed like he hadn't had a good fuck like this in a long time.
“Holy fuck…” He panted out with a smirk, slightly shaken by the possible parental consequences of what you just did, but also turned on by the fact that he was able to claim you again…
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#satoru x reader#satoru x reader smut#jjk smut#jjk imagines#satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo
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Audience of One pt.3
Satoru x fem!reader x Suguru
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Word count: 6.5k
Series Summary: When Suguru first walked in on you and Satoru having sex, it was an accident. But he couldn't say the same about every time after that. He's under the impression that this habit of his is a secret. But you and Satoru have known this whole time and didn't plan on letting Suguru know anytime soon.
pt.3 Info: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, PiV sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome/throuple, cuck Gojo, hair pulling, morning sex, squirting, praise/degradation kink, spanking, begging, pet names (princess, baby, love, etc), established relationship w Gojo, aftercare, basically 90% porn 10% fluff, Gojo teaching Geto how to fuck you, Geto is no longer shy
pt.1 pt.2 pt.4
˚₊ · »-♡→ I know I said I'd post pt.3 yesterday, but I panicked and rewrote like half of it (oops lol). BUT- I'm much happier w this version 🛐
Also not sure if this would be a good place to end?? or if more parts would be wanted ¿ I would be more than happy to turn this into a series and I even have a pt.4 in the works, but I also don't want this to feel dragged on yk. Please lmk your thoughts because I am incapable of making my own decisions (ノ ° 益 °) ノ
Early hours of the morning came, and the first one awake was Geto. He looked down at you and his breath caught in his throat.
You looked so peaceful.
So angelic.
He couldn't help but press a soft kiss to your forehead.
His mind wandered to last night and he smiled. Everything was perfect. The feeling of your bare body was warm and inviting, and having you pressed against him sent sparks down his spine. Geto had never felt this way before.
He could get used to this.
"Hey," a sleepy voice whispered from beside him, startling him out of his trance.
Geto turned to see a very disheveled Gojo looking at him through half closed eyes, "Hey,"
Gojo’s attention shifted to your resting figure, still curled up against Geto's chest. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.
"She's really out," he whispered with a small chuckle.
"Yeah," Geto replied, "we wore her out."
"Damn right we did," Gojo smiled proudly, "I'd like to see how long it takes to wear her out next time," Geto's eyebrows raised at the mention of a 'next time.'
Seeing the surprised expression, Gojo smiled and reached over, and landed a playful punch on Geto's shoulder, "I meant it when I said you're welcome anytime- In fact, I was thinking, would you want to do this again? Not just the sex, I mean, I that part too, but like, all of it. Hanging out and stuff," he clarified, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, “It just seems like there’s good chemistry between us,” he added trying to explain his reasoning with a gesture that circled the three of you.
Geto thought for a moment, contemplating his answer.
Last night was the best night of his life. And he didn't want it to end. He wanted to be able to feel your warmth against him again and again. To be able to see your beauty, and to experience all the joy and happiness that came along with it.
The events of last night unlocked something deep within him. His desires had surpassed mere lust, and turned into something more. Something deeper.
Something genuine.
And with that revelation, Geto decided to take a leap of faith. "I'd like that," he replied, a bit of nervous enthusiasm coming out in his tone.
Smirking, Gojo nodded and moved to brush stray pieces of hair out of your sleeping face. "Great. Well, I guess we'll have to have a real conversation about this once she's up," he nodded down at you, "but for now, we should probably get some more sleep."
"Yeah," Geto nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips.
With that, the two men fell back into a comfortable slumber, their arms gently wrapped around you.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
A few hours later your eyes began to flutter open, thick with blurriness from the heavy sleep you were just in.
Once your vision cleared, you were met with the sight of Gojo's sleeping figure beside you. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. The sunlight was peeking through the curtains, casting a glow on his bare skin.
Turning to your left, Geto lay fast asleep. His features were relaxed, and his mouth hung slightly open. You couldn't help but admire his beauty.
You couldn't believe how lucky you were. Laying between these gods that walked among men.
You didn't want this moment to end.
Lifting yourself slightly to yawn and stretch, you accidentally hit Geto in the face, waking him. "Oops- I’m so sorry!" you giggled and flashed him an apologetic smile.
"It’s okay, beautiful," seemingly unphased by your elbow making contact his forehead, he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek, “Good morning,”
The gesture was unexpectedly warm and sweet. Not that Geto had never been sweet to you before, but this just felt… different. Like it carried a new weight behind it.
You smiled and leaned into the kiss, "Morning," you murmured back, your voice still laced with sleep.
Geto's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile. He just couldn’t get over the warmth you radiated.
You felt a hand slide up your side and rest on your waist. "And what about me?" Gojo pouted.
Turning to face him you placed a soft kiss on his lips and mumbled into it, "Hello, baby," He hummed in satisfaction and scooted in closer, not wanting to leave even the slightest gap between you.
“How did you sleep?” Geto asked while massaging your neck that was tense after the events of last night.
"Mmm, so good," you replied, letting out a small sigh as the tension left your shoulders. You could practically feel the aches melting and your muscles turning to malleable putty under his touch.
"I'm glad," he smiled, continuing to rub his thumb into the knots of your skin.
"And you?" You asked, turning to look at him.
"Wonderfully," he smiled, his hands not stopping their massage. You couldn't help the way your cheeks heated up from this simple interaction.
God, his man was truly a treasure.
Gojo watched the interaction and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked seeing that you brought out Geto's soft side, and he knew that you enjoyed it too. The three of you stayed like that for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other's company.
Then, Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and broke the silence.
"Hey, so," he started, looking between you and his friend, "Suguru and I talked earlier," Your brow furrowed at the tone in his voice. He sounded nervous.
Perking up, you raised a brow at him, "Oh?" You questioned.
"Mhm, we had a very productive conversation," Gojo continued, "while you were asleep," he clarified, "and, we think that, well, we- um, the three of us should hang out. Like, outside of sex. Or during. Or after. I mean- not like a requirement, just an option, if you're comfortable," he rambled.
You blinked.
Your face twisted with confusion as you tried to process his words. "Toru, what are you talking about?" you questioned, needing clarification.
"I want to date you too," Geto cut to the chase, his voice surprisingly steady and confident, "you would be with both of us. At the same time."
You stared at him.
Your brain was blank.
You breathed out a surprised, "Oh," The thought of it was interesting and foreign, though, not unwelcome.
"Only if you're comfortable with it," Gojo quickly added, "we know it's a bit... unconventional."
"A bit?" you asked sarcastically with a small laugh.
Gojo laughed and nodded, "Okay, a lot," he admitted, "but, we talked, and we agree. We want this," he said, motioning between the three of you, "Geto has clearly developed something for you, and vice versa. And I figured what better solution than adding Suguru to our relationship?"
You sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over the situation.
"It wouldn't be weird to you?" you asked Gojo with a concerned expression, "sharing me with your best friend?"
"Not if it's Suguru," he replied without hesitation, "we know each other well, and I trust him with my life. Plus- if it was, I would have never been able to enjoy the sight of my best friend eating out the woman I love, right?" he added with a teasing smirk, referencing the events of last night.
Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Satoru!" you scolded.
Gojo laughed and pulled you in for a quick kiss. "It's true," he whispered against your lips.
Turning to Geto, you gave him a questioning glance, "And you're okay with this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he was certain.
"Yes," he answered without a moment of hesitation.
"You would really want this?" you questioned, "It wouldn't be weird for you?"
Geto let out a chuckle, "I wouldn't be offering if it was weird for me. I'm not going to lie, it's a little unconventional," he stated, "but, I would love the chance to be with you- even if it's not the traditional way," his confession caused a wave of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
You thought for some time. The two men waited patiently, knowing that you would need a few minutes to process everything.
Assessments of the situation swirled in your mind. You loved Gojo and the life you had with him. And you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. But they both seemed so certain. They said they trusted each other, and if that was the case then why shouldn't you?
And on top of that, you couldn’t deny how Geto made you feel. Last night was clearly more than a one time deal. It was deeper than just sex, it was intimate. The way he touched you and admired you all night had chills running down your spine from just thinking about it.
The more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea became.
Being able to be with both of them was a dream come true. They were both kind, generous, and made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.
"If you aren't comfortable with this-" Gojo began, but was quickly cut off.
"I want to," you said quietly, "but what if something goes wrong?"
Gojo and Geto exchanged a quick look and burst out laughing.
That was certainly not the response you were expecting when airing your worries. "What's so funny?!" You asked, a bit irritated that they were laughing at your valid concerns.
"Baby," Gojo chuckled, "have you not seen the shit we've been through together? We'll be fine.”
Crossing your arms in defense you Looked between the two of them, "But still- What if you guys get jealous, or something goes wrong and we stop talking, or- or-"
Pressing a finger to your lips, Gojo silenced your anxious ramblings, "Shh, baby," he whispered sweetly with a reassuring smile, "We've got each other's backs. Plus, I'll kick Suguru's ass if he makes you upset," he joked.
Geto laughed and nodded, "I'd do the same," he added, causing a small giggle to slip past your lips.
You gave them an unsure smile, "I know you say that nothing will happen, but what if something does?" you countered, looking between them for an answer.
Gojo took your hands in his and looked you dead in the eyes. "Nothing will go wrong," he said, his voice now serious and full of promise.
"I'll make sure of it," he stated, a fire in his eyes, "Suguru will too."
A heavy sigh escaped your lips and you turned to Geto with a silent question in your eyes. "I'm not gonna let either of us fuck this up," he affirmed, reading the concern behind your gaze.
"We want to make this work," Gojo added, "And besides, do you really think I would put the best pussy of my life at risk?" He squeezed your side, making you let out a giggle.
You gave him a playful shove, "Shut up, idiot,"
"It's true!" He laughed and caught your wrist, pulling you in and placing a kiss on your temple.
"He's right though," Geto smirked, "last night was the best experience of my life. And that’s saying a lot considering I didn’t even fuck you."
Your cheeks heated and you let out a flustered laugh, "So you're in this for the sex, is that what I'm hearing?" you teased, poking Geto in the ribs.
He caught your hand and pulled it to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "No, sweet girl, its more than that." he said, looking down at you with a tender smile, "I'm in this for you- you know that."
The way his tone softened and his eyes gleamed was enough to make you melt.
And without wasting another moment you looked between the two men and nodded, "I'm in," you stated confidently, "if the two of you are."
Both their faces lit up at your confirmation, and the smile on their faces was bright enough to blind a person.
"Hell yeah!" Gojo cheered and wrapped his arms around you, "we're gonna make this work," he said, placing kisses all over your face. Geto smiled and joined, littering kisses down your neck.
And just like that all previous worries were melted away from the tingles that rippled across your skin after each new kiss. You giggled and melted into both sets of arms that caressed and embraced you gently.
Slowly, their sweet kisses began to get more rough. More hungry.
The way their hands roamed your body and their lips nipped at your flesh sent a spark of excitement through you.
"You're gonna be all ours, aren't you, princess?" Gojo purred into your ear.
A small whimper slipped past your lips as his breath fanned your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "Mhm," you hummed, your eyes becoming heavy with lust.
Geto's fingers traced your collarbones, moving further down and stopping just above your breast.
"And I'm gonna take such good care of you, give you everything you want," Geto promised, "you're mine too now."
His possessive words sent a jolt of heat straight to your cunt and you arched into his touch.
"Yours," you mumbled, too drunk off their affection to register what was being said.
They both let out satisfied hums.
Gojo's hands slid down your body, his fingertips grazing your nipples, before resting on your waist. "Our perfect girl," Gojo murmured and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "you're so beautiful."
Geto's fingers dipped down into your cleavage, squeezing your breasts gently, and his lips found yours. "So obedient," he mumbled into the kiss.
You whimpered against his lips. The feeling of their hands all over your body and their praises filling your ears was intoxicating.
"Mm, fuck," Gojo groaned, grinding his erection on your ass.
Gasping into the kiss, your eyes widened and turned to him "Satoru," you whined.
"Shh, Princess," he shushed, his hands gripping your waist, "be a good girl and keep kissing Suguru while I play with you,"
Your breath hitched, but you nodded and turned back to Geto, who was looking at you with a dark lust in his eyes. And instantly, Geto's warm lips were back on yours. They felt soft and plump, like velvet pillows, and you couldn't help but melt into the sensation.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, his hands moving further down your body.
You whimpered when his hands came into contact with the bare skin of your thighs, his touch sending chills through your body.
Gojo leaned down and planted a kiss on your shoulder, then continued peppering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, "We're gonna keep you nice and happy, baby," Gojo promised, the vertebration of the words on your neck tickling you lightly.
Your mind was blank. All you could do was moan and let them explore your body. Geto's tongue was slowly swirling around your own. His movements were slow and gentle, taking the time to savor the feeling.
Rocking into Geto's thigh, you chased the pressure, hoping it would satiate the throbbing in your cunt.
Geto's grip tightened on your tits and he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss and allow a string of spit to hang between your mouths. "This desperate already?" he smirked, his thumbs rubbing circles into the hard buds of your nipples.
"Always," Gojo smirked, "she's such a needy little slut,"
You whined and rolled your hips, the need between your thighs growing more apparent with every passing moment.
Geto's eyes flicked down to your mouth, which was parted and breathing heavier, then back up to your eyes. The sight made his cock twitch, and his gaze darkened, "Fuck, that's so hot," Geto groaned, his dick already hard. His hands moved downward to your hips, gripping to hold you still, "Be patient for us, princess."
Gojo continued his kisses along the length of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, sending goosebumps up your arms. "She loves hearing us praise her," Gojo smirked, "she's always so desperate for any sort of validation. Drives her wild,"
The truth in his words made you whine and looked at Geto, who was staring down at you with lust-filled eyes. "Is that so?" He asked, his hands moving to cup your face.
"Yes," you breathed, leaning into his touch.
His attention turned back to Gojo, "And does she like to be degraded too?" He asked, curious, but already knew the answer.
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off from a whimper that escaped your lips. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you avoided their eye contact.
A mischievous smirk formed on Geto's lips, "Oh?" He tilted your chin up and looked down at you, "Look at me," he demanded.
You did as instructed, your heart skipping a beat when you met his gaze.
"Tell me," he began, his thumb running over your bottom lip, "do you like being treated like a little slut?"
His question caused a rush of heat to run through your body. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, and you could swear that your arousal was now dripping onto the sheets beneath you.
Gojo couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. Your obvious reaction to Geto's words was adorable.
"I'll take that as a yes," Geto smirked, his eyes not leaving yours as he pushed his thumb past your lips. "Although, I guess I shouldn't expect anything more from the dirty slut who would let me watch her boyfriend fuck her for months."
The humiliation that coursed through you was overwhelming, and yet, you felt more aroused than ever before. You closed your eyes and took Geto's thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and letting out a moan.
You were helpless to the words coming from Geto's mouth, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be completely submissive to him. It was clear to them that this new way that Geto spoke to you was making you dizzy with lust.
"Oh, you like how Suguru is talking to you right now, don’t you, princess?" Gojo smirked, watching your reactions, "He's always so polite, so gentle with you. It's a nice change, huh? Seeing him be a little mean."
You nodded and moaned around Geto's thumb, which was still resting on your tongue.
Gojo was right, you did enjoy the new change. The way Geto looked down at you with a dark glint in his eyes, his usually sweet and caring demeanor nowhere to be seen, was driving you crazy. You wanted nothing more than to be dominated by him.
To be completely and utterly destroyed by him.
"What do you think, princess? Should we have Suguru fuck you? Let him see what a dirty, slutty, cum dump, you are firsthand?" Gojo cooed, his hands roaming up and down your thighs.
You whined, and Geto withdrew his thumb, a string of saliva still connecting it to your lips. "Is that what you want?"
”Please," you begged with an embarrassing urgency, "please, please, please, let him fuck me." you turned to Gojo, who was already beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand.
"Please," you repeated, looking up at Geto with a pleading expression, "I need it, please."
"Oh, you need it, do you?" Geto cooed, "Such a pathetic little slut, begging for my cock, and you don't even know how good I can fuck you," he teased, looking down at you with a patronizing smirk.
You whimpered and looked up at him, desperation clear on your face, "Show me," you begged, "please, show me how good you can fuck me."
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Well, since you're asking so nicely," he said, "Get on your back. Now." His demanding voice took you by surprise and you immediately followed his instructions.
You untangled your legs from his and laid back, looking up at him with wide, innocent, eyes.
"Good girl," Gojo praised, sitting beside you. He pushed your legs apart and dipped his fingers between your folds. He rubbed his hand sloppily, for his pleasure only, the goal being to collect your juices. Then, he brought it to his dick, using it to help his jerk off.
"So wet," he said, pumping his dick with your slick.
"Toru," you pleaded, arching into his touch that was no longer there.
"Shh, just sit back and let me watch Suguru fuck you, princess," Gojo soothed, his thumb running circles around his slit, mixing your wetness with his pre-cum.
The room felt like it was spinning around you, and the only thing grounding you was getting touched in the place you needed it most.
Geto positioned himself between your legs and placed his cock on your clit. You could feel the hot, throbbing, length rest on your sensitive bud and it made you shudder.
Geto's hand gripped your thigh and he spread you wider, taking in the sight before him. "God, I'm never going to get tired of that view," Geto sighed.
"Just wait until you're in her," Gojo smirked, admiring your glistening slick rub onto Geto's shaft.
He let out a hum and slid his cock between your folds, coating his dick in your wetness. You moaned, your breath hitching as the head brushed against your entrance.
Seeing how needy you were getting, Gojo moved his free hand down and spread your lips, exposing your dripping hole for Geto's viewing.
"So pretty," Geto praised, his tip prodding at your entrance.
You were soaking wet and more than ready for him, and when he slowly pushed in, a loud groan ripped through his throat as he inched deeper into your warmth.
"Oh, god, so tight," he praised, his hips pausing halfway to give you time to adjust, "so perfect."
Your hands balled into fists and you moaned loudly, the feeling of him filling you up was so overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
"Isn't she?" Gojo asked, leaning in to press kisses against your neck, "you're perfect, aren't you? The perfect little fuck toy for us, and us only- Say it."
As he continued to slowly slide in, Geto kept his eyes trained on yours, not wanting to miss a second of your reactions.
Heat rose to your cheeks under his gaze, embarrassment evident in your expression. "I- I'm," you stuttered, a small whine slipping past your lips before you could get the words out.
"Use your words," Geto commanded through clenched teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening as your cunt pulsed around him.
You whimpered and nodded, trying to collect yourself. "I- I'm a perfect fuck toy," you choked out, a mixture of craving and shame washing over you, "yours- just for the two of you,"
"Fuck- Yes, you are," Geto praised, bottoming out and giving you a few moments to adjust. You whined and clenched around him, feeling fuller than ever before.
After your muscles relaxed, you rocked lightly against Geto's cock, to show you were ready for him. Though, just that small movement had you seeing stars as his tip hit your g-spot.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream and your nails dug into the sheets, gripping tightly.
"Oh, did I find it already?" he asked patronizingly, his voice laced with sarcasm, "You must be so sensitive," You could do nothing but whimper and nod, not being able to form words.
"Fuck, do that again," Geto demanded.
You followed his instructions and rocked against him, moaning at the sensation. "Holy shit," Geto gasped, his eyes rolling back as you squeezed his cock.
Gojo watched with wide eyes, his hand slowly stroking his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him. "How does she feel?" Gojo asked with a chuckle. He already knew the answer.
Geto moaned, slowly starting to roll his hips, "Fucking heavenly," You felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, knowing that Geto was enjoying your pussy just as much as you enjoyed his dick.
"So warm and tight," he added, picking up his pace, "I could fuck her all day,"
"Please," you whimpered, "fuck me all day,"
A satisfied smile crossed Geto's face, and without a word, he started to thrust into you at a steady pace. You gasped, feeling his cock fill you up with each push. Your walls tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, "Such a greedy fucking pussy, doesn't want to let me go."
You whimpered and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands grabbed onto your waist and his fingers dug into the plush flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your moans and whimpers grew louder and louder.
"Mm, look at her," Gojo cooed, "she's so fucking desperate."
"Mhm" you breathed out nodding and looking up at Geto, who was watching your every move. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was a mess, his face was flushed, and his eyes were filled with desire. The sight of him looking down at you like that made your heartbeat quicken.
"You love having my cock buried deep inside of you, don't you?" he asked.
You nodded vigorously, unable to form any words, but the way your hips met his every thrust and the sounds that came out of you told him all he needed to know.
"Oh?" Geto smirked, "You need more? Fucking impatient little slut- You need me to fuck you harder?"
"Yes, please, please, please," you begged, your head falling back against the pillow.
"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand moving to rest on your lower stomach, "such a polite little whore for my cock."
He pushed lightly onto your abdomen while fucking deep into you. The pressure from his hand was foreign and had you squirming and whimpering, biting your lip to hold in your cries of pleasure.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, there! There!" You screamed, "Please, don't stop!"
Geto smirked and leaned forward, "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm.
Your eyes shot open, not even realizing they had been closed. You stared up at him and his lust filled eyes, a look you had never seen before on his face. The sight made you instantly moan and your eyes began to roll back involuntarily.
"Keep your eyes on me," he commanded, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.
Your jaw fell slack, and a strangled moan slipped past your lips as pleasure coursed through your veins. "S- sorry," you stuttered.
Gojo groaned and his fist picked up pace, jerking his dick in tandem with Geto's movements. "It's okay, baby, you're doing so good," he whispered, leaning forward and brushing the hair out of your face, "so good for us."
Geto's pace continued and the heat in the pit of your stomach began to build dangerously fast. "Fuck, Sugu- I- I-" you stuttered, struggling to form a coherent sentence.
"You're so close already, aren't you?" He cooed, his eyes not leaving yours.
You nodded, and a loud whine slipped past your lips as Geto's hips started to pick up speed. "Fuck," he groaned, "fuck, you're squeezing me so good, baby,"
"Gonna- Gonna cum," you managed to say through heavy breaths and muffled moans.
In response, the hand on your stomach pushed slightly deeper, and that's what threw you over the edge. The pressure had your toes curling and your back arching upwards followed by a strangled scream on your lips as you came hard.
Your vision went white, and a ringing filled your ears.
"Oh, fuck," Gojo groaned, watching your legs shake and your face display your ecstasy.
"Shit," Geto groaned, "keep cumming for me, baby, just like that- fuck!"
Gojo smirked and leaned back, admiring his two lovers. "God, the two of you are so fucking hot," he said, his hand working furiously to match the pace that Geto was now setting.
You could barely register what he said, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The warmth from deep in your core had overflowed, somehow finding its release- and soaking everything around you in the process.
Geto moaned loudly and looked down at your pussy, Gojo eyes followed, widening and jaw dropping.
"Holy shit," Gojo breathed out, "She's squirting," he said in awe, "fuck- I didn't even know she could do that."
Your juices were flowing freely, coating Geto's cock, balls, and the bed beneath you in a thick layer. It was as if a flood gate had opened and your arousal was pouring out of you.
"Oh, god, oh, god," Geto repeated, "you're squirting on my cock," he groaned and picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm, "so good, fuck- So fucking perfect."
Your mind was blank, all you could do was babble and moan, letting Geto fuck you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.
"Fuck," Geto growled, his hips began to stutter. "Go on, Suguru," Gojo urged, nearing his own climax, "cum in her."
Geto looked down at you, the glazed over expression on your face was enough to send him over the edge. With a final thrust he bottomed out and painted your walls with his seed, the sensation pulling a long moan from both of your lips.
You could feel his warmth spill into you, filling you up and coating your walls, and causing a brain numbing tingle to run up your spine.
Gojo wasn't far behind, his own cum coating his hand and abdomen. He pumped his shaft as the last few drops landed on his stomach. "Holy shit," he breathed out, leaning back and letting the orgasm wash over him.
"Fuck," Geto groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. Both of you were completely spent, not even bothering to move or say a word. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and racing heartbeats.
You could feel Geto's warm breath against your skin as he took a few deep breaths. You brought a hand up and gently ran it through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.
The gesture was simple, but it made his heart melt, grounding him from the high he just experienced.
"That was fucking hot," Gojo praised, "You're both so fucking sexy. I loved seeing you two together."
"So good, my beautiful, perfect, angel," he continued, placing kisses on your forehead and cheek, "you did so well,"
You turned to him and smiled lazily, enjoying the praise. Geto looked up and admired your blissed out expression. "You look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "so gorgeous."
You leaned into his touch and hummed, your eyes fluttering, half lidded in tranquility.
Gojo chuckled and placed a kiss on your temple, "Don't get too comfortable, princess, we still need to clean up."
"I'm not leaving this bed," you mumbled, closing your eyes completely and nuzzling into the pillow.
"You're so spoiled," he chuckled and turned to his friend, "Help me out here, man."
"Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, kissing your nose, "he's right, we need to get you cleaned up," You groaned and nodded, accepting defeat. Geto slowly pulled out and stood up.
"Come here, my sweet, precious, girl," Gojo said, lifting you off the bed, bridal style, "Let's go take care of you."
You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "M'kay," you replied, resting your head on his chest. Gojo carried you into the bathroom, and Geto followed closely behind. He sat you down on the toilet and you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes.
Once Geto entered, he turned on the bath faucet and waited for the water to warm.
"Do you wanna use a bath bomb, princess?" Gojo offered, reaching into the cabinet under the sink. "Ooh yes, please," you nodded opening your eyes with a tired smile on your lips.
A bright grin spread across Gojo's face from seeing you perk up, "Okay!" He exclaimed, grabbing one of your favorites and tossing it into the bath.
The sweet smell of citrus quickly filled the air, and the sight of the bubble bath and colorful fizzies had you feeling relaxed like never before.
Geto shut the water off and walked over to you. He knelt down and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?" He asked, a small smile on his lips.
You hummed and leaned into his touch, "Amazing," you replied.
He chuckled and kissed your forehead, "Good."
After all of the residue made its way out of you, you cleaned up and Gojo lifted you into the bath. He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you back to his chest.
"Is the temperature okay, princess?" Geto asked, sitting in the opposite side of the tub.
You hummed, closing your eyes and resting your head on Gojo's chest. "Perfect,"
"Good, we want you to be comfortable," Geto said, smiling.
"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggling into Gojo's chest.
It was a little crammed and you guys probably should have showered beforehand, but in that moment it was perfect and everything you could ever need.
The three of you had become comfortable and content.
As if that's how things had always been
Gojo was playing with the bubbles and making shapes with them on top of your head, while Geto was helping to wash the sweat off of your skin, his fingertips running gently along the curves of your body.
It felt so normal and domestic, and that's exactly what you had always wanted.
"So, how does this feel?" Gojo asked, reaching behind him to grab a loofah, "Is it weird? Being the meat in a Gojo and Geto sandwich?"
You choked on your breath and your eyes shot open, "Ew! It wasn't weird until you said that! Gross," you said, giggling and shaking your head.
"Yeah, Satoru, why'd you have to word it like that?" Geto asked, chuckling and chastising his friend.
"Oh, come on, don't be like that. It was funny!" Gojo laughed, running the loofah across your back, "Now answer the question."
"No, it doesn't feel weird," you replied, a smile on your lips, "I mean, yeah, we haven't done a lot yet, but I'm happy, and I like being with both of you."
"Yeah," Gojo agreed, "it's different, obviously, but, I'm glad it's the three of us. I love the dynamic, it feels like... home. Like the three of us were always meant to be together. Me and my two favorite people!" He threw his arms around your neck, his hands falling just above your chest.
You looked at Geto and he had the most genuine, loving smile on his face. "I couldn't agree more," he said, reaching out to take your hand in his. His hand was warm and comforting, and the way his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin had a warm tingle running up your arm.
Gojo was right, it did feel like home.
A warm, safe, comforting, home.
It was a strange situation, one that you never would have imagined yourself in. But at the same time you knew that the three of you would be able to make it work.
The three of you stayed in the bath for a little while longer, laughing, teasing, and joking, and eventually Gojo and Geto switched places. When the water began to get cold and the bubbles began to disappear, Gojo lifted you out of the bath and brought you back to the bed.
He gently laid you down and dried you off, pressing kisses all over your skin.
Geto emerged from the bathroom and watched the two of you. He could see how much Gojo cared for you, and how you trusted and loved him. It was a sight that made his heart flutter and he could only hope to have that deep of a connection with you one day.
"You're so cute," Gojo cooed, placing the towel over your head and rubbing it gently.
"Toru," you whined, the feeling tickling your scalp, "you're going to make my hair frizzy!"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this," he chuckled, moving the towel and planting a kiss on your forehead, "I love taking care of you, and seeing you so relaxed. Plus, I think your hair is adorable no matter what, and I know Sugu does too,"
Turning to Geto in the doorway, you pouted and tilted your head to Gojo, "Help me out here," you pleaded.
Geto couldn't help but smile. "He's right, sweet girl," he chuckled, walking towards the bed, "I think your hair is gorgeous no matter what," He pulled you into his chest for an embrace, but then scruffled your hair, catching you off guard.
"Hey!" You yelped, pulling away from him and trying to flatten your hair, "not you too!"
They both let out a laugh. "Sorry, baby," Geto apologized, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Traitor," you mumbled, earning a chuckle from Gojo and Geto.
"I'm gonna get dressed, I'll be right back," Geto said, reluctantly pulling away from the scene, "then, how about I make us a late breakfast?" You nodded and gave him a small smile.
"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," Gojo teased, earning a slap on the shoulder from Geto before he walked off, "Ouch! Hey!"
Laughing you shook your head at Gojo's dramatic performance of pretending to be hurt by rubbing his shoulder, "I'm so wounded," he joked, flopping onto the bed beside you, "you're gonna have to kiss it better," he winked with a smirk.
"Maybe later," you giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek.
"Fine, fine," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and sitting up.
He smiled as he jumped off the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on, baby," he said, holding a hand out for you, "I'll pick out an outfit for you." You happily accepted and followed him over to your dresser, ready to start your day.
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whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)
a/n: WE MADE IT TO CHAPTER FIVE!! EVERYBODY CLAP!! labour of love fr <3 but we're almost to the scene that sparked the whole freakin series and i. oh man im just yearning for that hurt/comfort
word count: 4.4k
synopsis: You test out if your efforts with the tonics are worth anything and Azriel bestows you with a gift. He asks about the Blood Rite and you ponder the strange, golden thread you've been feeling in your chest. Disaster strikes when night falls.
CHAPTER FIVE :: CONFIDANTS
You look younger in your sleep, Azriel thinks.
He doesn't think he's ever seen you like this before. The hard lines of your face are all smoothed out as you rest, so unlike your usual expression. There's something softer about you.
The constant furrow between your brows is whisked away for once. He can still see the familiar line between your brows though, if he looks close enough.
If he can look past the bruises that mottle your face, that is.
The damage you've sustained from training within the camp is severe enough to curdle something sour in his stomach.
Azriel had held his reservations about his trip back to Velaris— a suspicion that proved to be well founded. His own memories of training at Windhaven provide plentiful ways for you to have ended up in this state.
You’re curled up instinctively in your sleep, wings tucked around yourself. It sews of thread of worry through Azriel's chest, a slight concern at the state of your wounds and how the position will agitate them. While you don't move much in your sleep, he knows from experience that it'll be hell when you finally do stretch back out.
But... he can’t bring himself to wake you. You need the sleep desperately.
Azriel is fairly certain that the huddled form you take is some subconscious way to protect yourself, even in your sleep. Your wings drape across yourself, keeping yourself covered, hidden.
And while that makes some part of Azriel's heart ache, he can't deny that you—it looks… sort of cute.
Azriel forces himself to avert his eyes, ducking his chin for extra measure. Those pesky thoughts were becoming more and more frequent — something that he's pointedly ignoring at this point.
Protect, his shadows whirl around his ears like tiny gusts of wind, whispering their suggestions. Protect, they whisper.
Protect. Both a thought and a feeling. A guiding intuition that seems to reverberate from his very bones.
The suggestion from his shadows isn't entirely left field either, as they always take inspiration from what he can see. From his wandering thoughts, from his prolonged gentle gaze that lays upon you whenever he can.
Azriel scowls lightly at himself. He had no claim to protect you and further more, most Illyrian males like yourself would take great amounts of offence to the mere insinuation. He knows that you are more than capable.
He steals another glance at your peaceful, sleeping figure and his shadows seem to quieten in response— at least about you. The whispers don't ever truly quieten.
Azriel's fairy certain where they're getting their ideas. It's what he wonders too as he takes in your battered face once more—whether it’s the truth or just his familiar brand of desperate hope.
Something that would explain the urge to protect beyond reason.
Something like... a bond forged in starlight.
The Mother's Kiss whistles quietly outside and Azriel shifts his gaze again and this time, it lays upon the Heartstriker.
Sitting atop the one table-top in your shelter, the blade stays sheathed away in the very same bejeweled case that Azriel had found it in. Same as on that very first day he laid his hands on it.
It had been a wretched mission. One of his very first. It was not performed with the eloquence he would come to learn in future years.
Heartstriker had not been the objective of the mission. Far from it, in truth. The objective was a simple stealth reconnaissance into the Court of Nightmares.
He was to delve beneath the rock of the mountain in a mission very similar to his current. Swirlings of rumours and whispers of rebellion, against the new Highlord. Azriel was there to learn who had the guts to pick up the knife and try.
Heartstriker was a ploy. A shiny trick that Azriel had not yet learned how to evade.
He was still a novice by his own standards, only a few hundred years old. Spying in this sense was still fresh, still new. The work he had done under Rhysand's father during the war had been far more reliant on his brute strength. He had strict instructions not to hesitate to draw his blade.
It had taken time to relearn the importance in a message sent with words.
To remember the power of mercy.
This mission had been the first and only time Azriel had underestimated the measures in place in the Court of Nightmares, meant to keep out the likes of him.
His hesitance to kill had given another Fae time to trip an alarm, to flood the room with warriors. So when he had been backed into a corner by the snarling miscreants that lived in the belly of the mountain, taken by surprise, he hadn't hesitated to snatch up any weapon he could reach.
And it had branded him, singeing him right to his core.
But when he tried to force his fingers apart, they wouldn't obey, even as they screamed with the pain of the invisible flames. It was as though his hand had become fused with the blade, each atom of his being completely joined with the bronze of the sword through a terrible, unstoppable and invisible force.
Every part of him shrieked in agony. An age-old fear reared up within him, his hands burning like they were set alight and he could feel the flames licking at his skin, at his hands, could smell the scent of burning flesh—
He had fought on and won, all the same, taking on two battles at once. Fighting foes by real and faux, all whilst burning up from within all the while. The sword was immeasurably heavy and yet too light, all at once.
And only once almost all his enemies were slain, their blood staining the marble floors, did the burning cease. The blade seem to hum in response to the battle— drawn to the final foe who was clawing for his breath through his blood-soaked throat.
The tip of the sword had urged Azriel forward, like pulled by an invisible string, and he let it lead him, plunging the blade through the chest and into the heart of the last enemy left.
Only after, had the humming stopped. The sword finally clattered from Azriel's strong grip, the fusion broken.
His hands were same as ever, mottled with their scars, but with no indication of the burning he knew he had felt.
On his return, Rhys had told him the history of the sword and it's duly fitting name: Heartstriker.
It hadn't been claimed in centuries and as such, naturally it had come to live amongst other cursed objects within the Court of Nightmares. Unable to be used, unless someone bested the pain it took to raise it.
But Azriel had, entirely by accident.
It is said that once mastered, it will always strike true. Rhys had said, violet eyes gleaming as he looked over the bronze sword with piqued interest. That it's more than a regular sword but a living thing you must work in tandem with.
If anyone tries to take it from you, they must suffer the same fate. It can be gifted freely but, He had paused, that smirk that held no warmth in it pulling at his lips. I'm sure you can guess how often that happens down there.
It hadn't been used within the Night Court either, condemned to another hundred years or so without sight of battle. Azriel had more than enough blades of his own. The Illyrian broadsword that he had earned all that time ago in the Blood Rite for a proper battle and his Truth-Teller for the finer details.
Heartstriker wasn't right for his stature. Too short, strange weighted.
He'd kept it all the same. Perhaps, he told himself, to keep some other Fae from suffering the same fate if they laid hands on it.
His hazel eyes drift back across to you, bundled within yourself. You make a noise in your sleep, a gentle snuffle, and Azriel finds himself smiling.
Or perhaps, he thinks, he knew to keep it for entirely other reasons.
—
The quick healing of Illyrian's is more often a blessing than it is a curse.
On today's quiet winter morning, it is somehow both.
When you wake, dragged from your slumber in the early hours, it's before the sun has begun to make an appearance on the horizon. The shelter is coated in a soft darkness of dawn. The trees sway outside, a thousand creatures still roaming amongst their branches, reliant on the dark before daylight breaks.
It's the pain that wakes you, ebbing in through your sleep til it shakes off your sleep. You wake with your teeth already gritted.
The only pleasant surprise is that fact you're not shuddering yourself awake out of a nightmare, especially considering yesterday's training session.
You have a feeling that it has something to do with the sleeping Illyrian, propped up beside the fireplace, keeping watch.
His shadows still move about, even in his sleep. His neck is tucked down, his forehead pressed against his knee. It hides away part his face but as your eyes adjust to the shadowy light, you can make out his closed eyes. His hair looks messier than you've ever seen it.
It can't be comfortable, sleeping the way he is— but you have a feeling that Azriel has slept in places far worse before.
Shifting about in the darkness, your hand comes down to press tenderly at your sides, assessing as quietly as you can. There's no immediate sting of sliced skin as your fingers tips poke and prod at the skin, which makes you sigh in relief. You press down again, at bit harder this time, and it forces a wince out your gritted teeth.
Extremely bruised. But at the very least, the skin has knitted itself together in the nighttime.
Your face still aches, too. It's not quite the same ringing that made both eyes throb painfully yesterday and with a slow wrinkle of your nose, you can assess that the worst of your broken nose has healed up too.
Your ears, however, poses a different problem. One of them, the right side, still rings lightly. It would be more concerning, you think, if the left one itself wasn't so muffled altogether.
Huffing out a breath, you drag yourself up to a sitting position, moving at a tentative pace. Pain ricochets around your body. You're doing the best you can to be quiet but it's futile it seems — there's one creak of the bed as your weight shifts and Azriel's wings twitch, giving him away. He’s awake.
He lifts his head slowly, letting it roll from one side to the next, stretching out his neck. It's the only indication he gives you of feeling sore from his cramped sleep all night, his attentive eyes already watching you closely. His shadows, you notice, seem to gain speed at his rousing— circling his shoulders and neck closely.
You clear your throat and focus your gaze forward, resuming the task at hand. Raising one hand, you snap your fingers beside your left ear, then your right.
Frustration bubbles up inside you as you repeat the motion, as if it’ll change the outcome.
It doesn’t.
At least beyond the ringing, your right ear can hear the snap clearly— a keen Fae sense that like any warrior, you rely heavily on. The left one…
All you can think is that they must have hit you pretty damn hard to leave it as dulled as it feels. It can still hear, thankfully, but the noise that filters through is muffled around the edges. Buzzy. It makes you feel off kilter and unbalanced.
You let your hand drop and try to remain stoic, so used to hiding your emotions away from your face. You don't realise your drooping, limp wings give you away anyways.
Azriel gets to his feet swiftly, the movement so smooth you would have never guessed he spent the night tucked up uncomfortably against the bricks of your fireplace. He regards you with those burning amber eyes and your heart seems to lurch forward in response. You avert your gaze.
"It would seem we have an opportunity to test out our efforts." He says. His voice is still coated in sleep, low and rumbley, and it sends a bright zing down your spine. You lift your gaze from your lap and raise your brows in question.
He waves a hand to the table, in gesture.
Your various ingredients for brewing the tonics stay tucked in one corner, some wrapped up and set beneath the table. There are several different bottles too, stoppered with corks and containing yours and Azriel's attempts at the healing tonics.
It takes another moment to understand what he means.
"No," You say sharply, climbing to your feet. A thousand parts of your ache and groan in protest and you channel your focus into not letting a single ounce of it show.
Rolling your tense shoulders back, you wander towards your armor in slow steady steps. "Those aren't for me. I've healed enough in the night."
"I see." Azriel replies. "Is that why your left ear isn't working right?"
Gaze snapping back to him, you curse his ever-so observant nature. Maybe that's on you for trying to keep a secret from a Shadowsinger.
You are keeping a secret from a shadowsinger, something whispers in you.
A cold flush fills your body, numbing out every nerve for a single moment. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your wings hike up, tuck in. It feels wrong.
For the first time in your life, it feels so so utterly wrong to be keeping this secret from someone. To be hiding who you truly are.
But Azriel... he was a stranger not too long ago, wasn't he? You're not sure if you can even call each other friends, even if you had begun to in your mind, without even realising.
You think back to last night, to when he could have easily lifted your shirt a few inches higher when trying to save your life and known.
Then you wonder if he did — and he hasn't said anything.
If he's waiting for you to trip up, to fess up, to explain to him why you've been lying to him from the moment you first met him.
Azriel seems to sense your internal battle, the same way he seems senses a thousand things from you as though he's known you his whole life. He clears his throat to get your attention. When you focus your vision back on him, you notice one of the bottles is in his scarred fingers.
"I will train you today," He says. "On the condition that you take it."
Your nose twitches. It's an ultimatum. He knows you want to train, to brush off yesterday and let the pain in your body fuel the determination of today but he won't let you do it so carelessly. Bastard.
Before you can blink, he tosses the bottle across to you. You react instinctively, cradling your hands to catch it quickly before you realise what you're doing. Your nose twitches again, a tiny flare of annoyance at his smugness.
No, not smugness. Surety. His expression, bordering on bored, tells you that he knows you don't have any other options— unless you want to climb back into bed and rot for the day.
You yank the cork off the bottle harshly. Then, just to show him how unpleased you are with this, you lob the cork at him with all your might. Your bruised side screams in response. Azriel snatches from the air easily, without so much as a blink.
He looks like he wants to smile but thinks the better of it, placing the cork gently onto the table. "I'll meet you outside." He eyes the uncorked bottle in your hand then back at you. "Drink it. Please."
—
The tonic, as you find out, is only mildly effective.
It's a gutting discovery. The mixture is nowhere near potent enough to fix the level of nerve damage that gets inflicted during clippings if it barely lightens the bruises on your side.
The mottled blue painted on your skin gives way to a light purple, the edges of them retracting to a tinged yellow. The skin glows hot as the tonic works as best as it can.
The taste of it is nearly as rancid as the failure feels.
You deal with it the only way you know how; chewing it up and spitting it back out as determination to do better. The drive to push yourself harder in training rears up, fiery and stubborn— harder than you logically know is any help to yourself.
What was already tedious and heinous training is made that much worse by your injuries.
You're moving sloppily today, offbeat. The dullness in your left ear helps to keep you off balance. Still, you manage to keep up with Azriel— not quite the one step ahead you're usually aiming for but, at the very least, you're still holding your own.
Your ribs ache and your heads throbs. The ringing in your right ear has disappeared with the help of the tonic, only to have started up in the left. A relief in one sense— it's good to be hearing more of anything. A fucking pain in another.
The only major upside, really, is the sword.
The Heartstriker, Azriel had called it
You had been half convinced it was a hallucination, the gift. Sure that it some desperate illusion born out of the delirium of the blood loss because, really, when was the last time you had ever gotten a gift?
When you'd limped your way out into the snow and saw it in his hands, you had blinked in disbelief.
But it's almost like Azriel had expected it, his scarred hands reaching out to gently curl around your wrist, murmuring its name as he had pressed it into your hand. It's yours, he had said.
He had let go of your wrist go immediately, stepping back but not far, still hovering close by. He let you have a moment to marvel at it before he urged you to follow to the usual neck of the woods you trained in. The sound of clashing steel had soon followed.
It's a perfect addition, you find.
The blade is like a mere extension of your own arm. It's light enough to carve through the air with ease but when you strike, it's buries deep. Compared the Illyrian broadsword used in training at camp, it suits your stature far better. You move more agilely, hit more frequently and harder when you do.
It's probably the best thing you've ever owned— ever held.
You're gazing at it where it rests on your lap, glinting in the light of the day, as you try to catch your breath. Azriel had given you a moment to recover, far earlier than normal, due to your injuries, no doubt. Normally, you'd grumble and snarl and push him to continue but today, you're quite happy to have another moment to stare at the first gift you've gotten.
Azriel breaks the silence with a question.
"Why haven't you competed in the Blood Rite?"
Something icy spikes in your blood and your back straightens instinctively, the hair on the nape of your neck standing on end. Whether he knows it or not, he is treading close to dangerous territory.
"Why do you ask?" You answer his question with another question.
Azriel regards you with a certain look, his dark eyes dragging down your body intensely and back up to your face. It's enough to make you fluster momentarily, to feel a faint stirring in your heart that doesn't entirely feel like your own. No one has ever looked at you like that before.
"You're strong. You hold your own. You're of age." He states carefully. "You remain attached to this camp with no rank until you pass it. Why not?"
You scowl at his frame of thinking, as if you haven't passed over those reasons a thousand times. Beyond the fact you can't ever ensure you wouldn't be burdened with your cycle during the Blood Rite, there's more than enough reason for you to remain a nobody.
You feel oddly disappointed that he would think only in that manner; glory and rank.
"What makes you think I want any rank in my camp?" You spit bitingly, watching as his wings sink down an inch at your tone. His misunderstanding of why you've chosen this way of life bothers you more than you expect.
"Because you did?" You ask. "Because three bastards fought their way through it and won and left their shitty pasts behind? I am not you, Azriel."
Azriel doesn't react, not even the raising of his brows. Only his shadows give himself away, whirling around slower than usual. He speaks in that same careful tone as before.
"I know you are not."
He makes you feel foolish for giving in to any lick of your anger, for so quickly snapping at your only friend. You turn your head away and stare down into the snow, taking a breath. Cauldron, you're tired. Lifting you arm, you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, clearing the sweat that beads there.
"I could leave but for what reason? Ever since I—" You suck a sharp inhale, swallowing back words that dance too close to giving you away. You pray he doesn't notice your hesitation. "Ever since I was young, this has been my goal. This change must come from within, you know that."
You inhale again, feeling the breath rattle past every ache and pain in your chest.
"I can only do the things I do... the things I must achieve, by being unnoticeable."
You cast a glance up to him. "To them, I am some bastard who won't give up and die. I am not a proper threat. You, of all people, should understand that it's easiest to work when people are not paying proper attention."
And that's all you have known — how to become unnoticeable when needed and how to be noticed when wanted. Attention, you've learned, only means a target on your back.
Beyond that... you can't imagine someone who would want to notice you for anything more. You've had many, many years to make peace with that bitter fact.
I am.
Without warning, there's a sudden thrum from deep within you, like a echo of a drum, of a call. It's golden and threaded with softness. I am paying attention.
It startles you, one hand flying to your armored chest in surprise. As quick as it had appeared, the hum flees and leaves your bound chest twingeing only in its usual discomfort. One moment of brief serenity. You long for it, despite the unfamiliar nature.
You realise abruptly that you've trailed off and force yourself to move, body aching in the process. Heartstriker sinks into the snow and you use it to clamber to your feet, not nearly as graceful as you would like. Azriel doesn't say anything.
In fact, when you lift your gaze to meet his, he's staring at you more intensely than usual. His shadows seem more agitated. They flit about, circling his hands more than his shoulders, and you can barely see the scarred skin through their inky darkness.
There's a long moment. Around you both, the trees creek as they bend in the wind, a thousand leaves rustling around you in a chorus.
Azriel breaks the silence, casting his eyes to the ground and lifting his blade. "No more questions."
He says it like a promise, his lips pulling at the edges like he might be offering a smile.
"Just fighting."
—
By the time the moon rises, the ache in your body has dimmed to a more bearable pain.
While you'd be miffed at the idea of Azriel pulling his punches, you can't deny the sliver of gratitude you have for it now. As you reach over the cauldron of simmering stew, only a few of your ribs twinge enough to make your motions falter momentarily. The stew bubbles and brews, filling your shelter with a hearty smell.
It's been too long since you last cooked something to share.
You try to shelve the guilt away—you and Azriel have been running a very tight schedule, switching between training, tonics and rest. Taking time to cook, for yourself or others, hasn't even had time to cross your mind.
Your brief brush back with the reality during yesterday's training, however, had provided you with ample reminders. Your home camp and all its violent glory.
So, you cook. The logs crackle on the fire and above them, the stew simmers gently as you stir absentmindedly at it. Giving yourself this quiet moment, you let your thoughts drift as the tiredness of the day trickles into your body. Your thoughts turn to the quiet Shadowsinger.
He had taken his leave as soon as he had declared the end of your days training, needing another trip to Velaris.
I'll be back by morning, he had said, each of his seven cerulean siphons flaring brightly before he stepped between the fabric of the world and disappeared. Another hidden trick up his sleeve.
You'd allowed yourself only one moment of surprise before you closed your mouth— you really needed to stop underestimating him. As the stew before you begins to hiss and spit, you pull yourself from your thoughts and prepare yourself for the discomfort of meal times.
They never are as friendly as you might hope.
Despite your generosity, the different outcasts of Exordor remain cagey. Regard you with pensive and guarded looks, hands hovering on the butts of their swords. You can't blame them in the slightest.
But those that can brave the walk to your cabin, risking both themselves and your own safety against the other Illyrian brutes in the camp, are rewarded with a hot meal. Tonight, you feed 12 hungry mouths before your doorstep grows quiet.
You pack it all away in silence, with a quite yearning for company you've only just become used to having.
It's only as you're tucking in for the night, your wings wrapped around yourself tightly, does the first pain strike. Right to your core, the very insides of your gut feels as though it's being shredded. You gasp, your entire body curling up tighter to fight against the pain.
For only a moment, confusion clouds your mind at the attack that seems to come from nowhere, from an invisible enemy. Only one answer comes forward—the only thing that can threaten to reveal your secret without your permission, through mere scent alone.
A certain agony that only tortures you twice a year.
[NEXT PART: BETRAYERS]
#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel shadowsinger x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger x you#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction#acotar fanfiction#acotar#i have nothing to say but sorry it took more than a month!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!!!!#mwahmwah please forgive me#we're GETTING there#i just keep being dedicated to the backstory lmao#TOO dedicated
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NURSE BODY THEFT
Lucas had been a lovely young man his whole life, with a passion for helping others out. It was why he'd studied medicine to become a nurse. At only 26 years old, the young man had it all- a well paying job at a local hospital, an amazing body he'd worked hard for, and a pretty decent reputation in his neighborhood. This reputation was mostly because of his part time job, which involved helping his sickly neighbor Hector.
Hector was an old veteran, the man was 87 years old, and his body was simply ruined. His hair was patchy and balding, with a completely white beard on his wrinkly facem his eyesight wasn't very good hence why he had to wear glasses and his 5,4 height was certainly not complimented by his morbid obesity. The old guy's health had been in decline for years, but Lucas was determined to make his last years more comfortable for the old man.
Unbeknownst to Lucas, Hector didn't see him as a means of making peace with his old age, but rather a way to escape it. One day, he invited Lucas over and showed him a strange device. Telling Lucas that it was an heirloom from his days as a soldier, Hector explained the device's purpose.
"This here is what the military called a swap gun. It's used to switch the bodies of two people that are consecutively shot by it"
Lucas seemed intrested, but his expression changed as Hector begun to explain what his idea was
"I'm getting older Lucas, and I want to feel what it's like to be young again, at least for a few hours. Would you let me switch bodies with you? It's completely reversible"
Feeling sorry for the old man, Hector sighed and responded
"If you really think it'll work, then sure. It's only a few hours, right?"
with that, the old man handed Lucas the device as his bedridden self was unable to stand long enough to do the job. With a deep breath, Lucas first shot himself and then Hector and suddenly everything fell silent.
When Lucas came to, he felt a crushing weight almost gluing him to the bed he was now laying in. With a struggle, the young man now turned old and fat sat up to see that his old body was nowhere to be seen. Spotting a note on his bed's side, Lucas begun to read
"Thanks for the body, Lucas! I'll be sure to get it back to you after I have some fun today. Until then, enjoy the pipe I left for you and watch some TV!"
With that, Lucas turned to the mirror to look at himself. He was hideous, his body a mess. He couldn't believe the swap actually worked and his mind was racing, but he kept himself composed as he reminded himself that Hector would swap them back tonight. So, he did as Hector suggested and decided to try that pipe.
As the day slowly came to an end, Lucas was beginning to get anxious. Looking at his huge, slob like body- he longed to be his old self again. After several hours of waiting, Lucas realized how boring and difficult Hector's life was. He needed help to even get up and go to the bathroom, and he was constantly out if breath.
Suddenly the door opened and a familiar sight walked into the room. There was a confident smirk on Lucas' face, now belonging to Hector. He walked up to the bedside table and placed a hand on Lucas's fat belly
"Damn. I really let myself go in these years haven't I? I won't miss this old body."
Lucas seemed distressed as he frantically looked up at his old body
What do you mean- I- I thought we were swapping back!"
Hector let out a booming laugh as he grabbed the letter from Lucas's hands and crumbled it up
"No way I'm going back in that disgusting body. Enjoy being a fat fart for the rest of your life Lucas, not like you have much time left hahah!"
Hector than flashed his new abs at the crying old man Lucas was now permanently stuck as before leaving Lucas behind to helplessly struggle in his bed. Soon moving away from the neighborhood never to be seen again.
As Hector enjoyed his new life, Lucas was left helpless as he didn't even have the support of another person to help him out. After a few months passed from the swap, Lucas was admitted to a mental hospital for saying stuff like his body was stolen. That was where he spent the rest of his days, as he passed away due to his morbid obesity three years after the swap.
He'd only gotten fatter, hairier and balder as he'd aged, his youth stolen from him by a selfish old man.
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OKAY so now that I have a moment.
On the framing of Imperialism in LoZ lore in general. This is a little long so I will put it under a read more.
So, I've often seen that, in the criticism of TotK's story and how it frames imperialism, that other LoZ games come up where it has been demonstrated that the Kingdom of Hyrule's hands are not clean. It feels like a lot of people bring this up with the argument that the lore was showing that Hyrule was morally gray. Yet, when you look at the framing of these misdeeds, that doesn't seem to be the case.
The most pertinent example of this is the Shadow Temple in OoT where it has been insinuated that the Royal Family did torture enemies of the crown. There is also the rampant racism that is directed towards the Gerudo, the Sheikah having all but disappeared except the one Sheikah who also happens to be a servant of the Royal Family, the Kakariko well, the tomb of the Royal Family overrun by redead, and the Civil War for which no explanation is offered except that the end result was the unification of Hyrule.
(I know there is a manga that explains that the Civil War bgean as some sort of dispute between the Goron and the Zora but, as I understand, it is not an officially licensed manga and thus not canon. Regardless.)
Twilight Princess seemed to be the most overt in its exploration of Hyrule's dark past. We learn that Hyrule had a habit of dumping its criminals into the Twilight Realm, ignorant or (or very likely) refusing to acknowledge that there were people living already there, that the Gerudo desert is devoid of Gerudo save for the Arbiter's Grounds which serve as a Hyrulean prison and execution ground, and how these people living in Hyrule's shadow not only held mistrust for the dwellers of light but actively hated them too.
Then you have A Link Between Worlds which, while Lorule isn't *exactly* Hyrule, it is framed as a reflection of Hyurle. It demonstrates that, if a kingdom is in a dire condition, that a reasonable solution would be to attempt to take the very artifact that would save it from another kingdom, even at that other kingdom's expense. Hilda is the antagonist but she is framed in a sympathetic light, as someone who had the best interests of her people at heart and would not have harmed anyone otherwise.
(Funny how Ganondorf is never afforded that sort of grace. When he expressed that his homeland was plagued with drought and suffering the solution was to destroy him and everything he ever held dear. Moving on.)
The wilds era also explained where the Yiga came from, that they were the Sheikah that refused to bow to Hyrule's demands that they dismantle the very technology that they had built in service to it, that they were persecuted and chased out for their refusal. In the present, they are seen as a cult that are unreasonable, a joke, and meant to be dismissed and annihilated.
These are but a few pretty obvious examples. However, my point isn't to prove that LoZ lore did demonstrate that Hyrule itself has perpetuated crimes of its own, but how they choose to frame said crimes.
You, as the player, learn these things but you learn them in a matter-of-fact manner, and you never question it afterwards. This violence that Hyrule perpetuates is simply the cost of business in keeping a peaceful kingdom. Because Hyrule's intentions, just like Hilda's, supposedly stem from a desire to bring peace, order, and light to the kingdom, their violence is seen as something good and divinely ordained. As a result, when you learn about it, no matter how horrific it is, you are sort of made to simply store this knowledge in mind and continue with your efforts in preserving the status quo. The kingdom is restored to its original state at the end of your journey, and the people who have been victim to Hyrule's violence simply are meant to persist and accept that this is their fate, never given any sort of acknowledgement in how they suffered.
Now, some may argue that, in Twilight Princess, the plight of Midna's people was acknowledged. However, the framing for their suffering largely puts the blame on Zant and Ganondorf, and doesn't quite make it so obvious that this entire mess is a result of Hyrule's actions over hundreds of years. It is there, subtle in the background, just like everything else we ever learn when it comes to Hyrule and its less than stellar deeds. In fact, one of Midna's big character moments is acknowledging that the dwellers of light were not as bad as she had imagined they would be which, was she wrong to have misgivings to begin with?
Meanwhile, when someone like Ganondorf enacts violence, his actions are framed as not only evil, but selfish. There is absolutely no other reasoning for his violence beside his own selfish desire. Even in moments where he does reveal that his desire stemmed from overseeing a kingdom that was suffering, he is still treated as someone acting selfishly, as someone who did not act on behalf of his people. Why is that? Why is it that when Hyrule tortures and expels people that they are seen as acting in the name of the collective good, but when Ganondorf, a king in his own right, does it it must stem from selfish desire? A lot of people, for example, like to point to OoT Ganondorf as being very evil because of his actions against the Kokiri, the Zora, and the Goron, but did what he do really differ from what he had witnessed Hyrule do to anyone who opposed them? I do like the angle that some people mention, that he purposefully uses the title King of Evil in a more tongue-in-cheek manner because he is willing to acknowledge that what he is doing IS evil, unlike Hyrule who insists that anything they do is good.
The point I'm trying to get at here is that, while it is great that LoZ lore does recount of Hyrule's dark past, its framing isn't to depict Hyrule as a morally gray entity. It is framed to depict that any kingdom, or empire, in seeking order and stability, does have a "right" to react with righteous violence in order to maintain said order. So long as this violence is done in the name of preserving the empire, it is acceptable no matter how violent. Meanwhile, anything done that resists or opposes the empire, no matter how small, is seen as evil and must be eradicated, no matter what the reason. We know this for a fact because the majority of the fandom doesn't acknowledge that Hyrule has done any wrong, no matter what you learn about it. Princess Zelda is her princess and Link is her hero so how can they be wrong? This is also imperialist rhetoric.
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riptide
“I was scared of dentists and the dark
I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations
Oh, all my friends are turning green
You're the magician's assistant in their dream”
summary: going on the camp's field trip to olympus because clarisse asked you to, meeting your father and clarisse's father and also, there are new updates from camp - luke gone, and percy's arrival
pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader
word count: 6.7k (14 year old me would never believe me if i said i casually wrote a 6k chapter)
tags: mostly fluff, tiny splash and angst
series masterlist 3/?
The date ended really late – you fell asleep on the beach, and Clarisse didn’t have the heart to wake you up. She didn’t dare, you looked too peaceful to disturb. You loved taking naps and whenever you were around Clarisse, you felt safe enough to do so. By the time you woke up, it was already dark, and Clarisse had put your blouse back on you because it started to get chilly. When you realised what time it was, you hurried Clarisse and grabbed all your bags before leaving the beach.
The ride back home was quite long, and once you got into camp, it was really quiet. You and Clarisse tried to be quiet, and walked slowly towards your cabins, but then you heard footsteps. Both of you whipped around. Chiron, hands on his hip and Mr D, standing next to him.
“Hi,” you waved.
Clarisse swiftly grabbed your hand to put it down.
“You missed the curfew,” Mr D said.
“What– What curfew? There was one?” you hesitated, looking at Clarisse.
“Yes,” Mr D continued, “it was written, black on white, that you should be home before 9pm. And it’s, would you look at that,” he showed you his watch-less wrist, “it’s past 11!”
“We– I didn’t know,” you explained, “I- I mean– I can’t read and neither can she.”
Chiron shook his head, and Clarisse stepped in front of you, shielding you from their disappointed faces.
“We’re sorry, we didn’t see the time.”
Your hand was grabbing tightly onto Clarisse’s arm.
“Go back to your cabins and rest,” Chiron said.
“Yeah, cause you’ll need it for the cleaning duties you’ll get for the whole week or month, I still haven’t decided yet haha,” Mr D finished and walked away.
You were once again alone. You sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her.
“What for?”
“I should’ve read the whole letter, I should've known and now because of me you’ll have cleaning duties for maybe a whole month!”
“I don’t mind, I had a great time today,” you raised your head up at this, “I’ll do another month again if it means we get to do that again.”
“Really?” you smiled.
“Really, now go to sleep.”
It ended up being a whole month of cleaning duties, but neither of you cared because you got to be together.
Your summer was split between three people, Clarisse, Will and Lee.
Fighting and combat with Clarisse. Clarisse was ruthless, not letting you rest for a bit, always pushing you to your limits. She had one thing in mind and that was for you to be the best version of yourself. You were progressing fast which she was extremely proud of. Just like Luke said, you were a natural fighter, and everyone noticed that during Capture the Flag. You went from hiding behind Clarisse the whole time from leading the fight.
Archery lessons from Lee. Lee was also very insistent as a teacher. Never letting you rest.
“Hitting a still target is easy, a child could do it,” Lee told you in his first lesson. “But no monster is going to stay still for you to hit it at your pace. So, we’ll practise on moving targets, fast and unpredictable ones.”
And he was right, it was much more difficult. There was no time for you to prepare, and see where the wind went. But after some practice, it was easier. He was a good teacher, after all. You were tired and sore at the end of every day, which seemed a bit excessive for a fun, safe, summer camp for half bloods. They looked like they were preparing you for war at this pace. And when you had some free time, you spent it with Cornelia painting and playing old board games they had in the cabins. It was a great way to relax.
Alongside sharpening your skills, you also spent an absurd amount of time at the infirmary with Will. Michael was the one teaching you everything, with a tiny Will following you there too. He was absorbing information at an incredible pace.
“Isn’t he a bit young to be learning all of this?” you asked Michael.
“Yeah, but he’s good at it, so who cares? Surely not Mr D.”
Will was a really nice kid, and obviously a natural healer. With the two of you at the infirmary, Michael was able to leave for longer periods of time. Will and you often held karaoke afternoons while cleaning the infirmary. And this time, it was your turn to choose the song. So, You and Will were dueting ‘august’ by Taylor Swift when someone came in.
“But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall" Remember–” you sang with Will.
“You’re having fun here,” Clarisse leaned on the doorframe.
You screamed, and turned around.
“Clarisse! Hi,” Will waved.
She gave you a questioning look. They had never met.
“This is Will Solace, my brother,” you smiled.
“Yeah, y/n talks about you all the time!” Will smile proudly, before you shoved him aside.
“Betrayal, I said all of these things in confidence, but whatever,” you dragged him outside. “Go grab some more supplies, we’re missing ambrosia.”
“But it’s ful–.”
You slammed the door.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” you laughed, turning back to Clarisse.
“Sure,” she smirked.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“I forgot to give you something.”
“A gift?” you beamed.
She took out a small tissue bag from her pocket and handed it to you. You opened it, and let the object slip into your palm. A ring.
“Are you proposing?” you joked.
She rolled her eyes, and smiled.
“I watched you pick this size when choosing yours, so you shouldn’t lose this one.”
“Thank you, it’s so pretty I love it!” you put it on your left index.
Clarisse had the one you gave her on her necklace.
“Great, don’t lose it.”
“I won’t!”
And just like that – in the blink of an eye – summer was over, and it was time for you to leave camp and go back home. You knew it was time to leave when Mr D started yelling that those who weren’t staying for the year to leave immediately because he had enough of seeing you bunch. When you walked away from your cabin, you noticed Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance of camp.
“I guess this is goodbye,” she smiled.
“Until October, for the field trip,” you corrected her. “I talked to Mr D and he said it was ok for me to come. So really it’s only two months away! And I’ll send letters, I’m sure Hermes Express have those next day delivery types of… offers?”
“Sure.”
You fiddled with your fingers.
“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted. “And I’ll miss Capture the Flag and being on your team, and I’ll miss sparing with you, and I’ll miss… seeing you everyday.”
Her eyes softened.
“Only two months, like you said.”
You nodded. Then, hesitantly, you opened your arms.
“What?” Clarisse frowned.
“We should hug goodbye.”
She had her arms crossed, but then she uncrossed them and you went to wrap your arms around her torso. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your shoulders. When her arms loosened, you let go.
“I’ll see you soon Clarisse,” you squeezed her arm, before walking away.
“See you soon sunshine,” Clarisse watched you walk away, “I’ll miss you too,” but you were already too far away to hear it.
Once you were back home, the first thing you did was to go find your mom’s old walkerman. You had to go search the old boxes your mom had put away in the attic – it was difficult but worth it.
“Why do you need this?” your mother asked once you came out of the attic with her walkerman.
“It’s for— my friend?”
“Clarisse?”
“Yes. Clarisse.”
When you told your mother about your summer at camp, it had included a lot of Clarisse related stories.
“And I told her I’d send letters so we could keep in touch, but now I realise I can’t write for the life of me, and even if I did write something, she’s spent too much time trying to decipher what I wrote, and it's just not– good. So I thought I’d send her this,” you waved the walkerman, “and I’d buy empty cassettes to record things, and send pictures along with it.”
“Oh, that’s a very nice thing to do,” she nodded.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you– to ask you really. Hm, there is this field trip at camp… in october. It’d be during the halloween vacations, so I won’t miss school. Can I go, please?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
Well that was easy.
So every week, you’d record what you did and update Clarisse about your life, you’d take pictures and buy her favourite snacks — you tried out a lot during your date — and ship it to camp half-blood. Clarisse would also send you pictures. The dinner, pictures of Will and behind one of his pictures he’d written ‘i miss u <3’ on the back, people training, their win at Capture the Flag, and you’d keep everything in a box dedicated to Clarisse.
Two months. Two months at camp went by fast, too fast even. But two months at school, minus your friends and the fun at camp, it was slow. You woke up every day at 6:45am, got ready and left for school, came back around 5:50pm and did your homework, ate, washed-up, and then scrolled on twitter, fighting with random accounts, and then went to sleep. Your routine was boring to no end, but you tried so you could have things to tell Clarisse. But life outside of camp was boring and your mother could see that.
“You know, if you wanted to stay at camp for the whole year, I wouldn’t stop you.”
Oh.
“But, what about you then? I don’t want you to live alone in this big ass mansion.”
“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” she reassured you.
“I won’t, knowing you’ll be alone.”
Your mom wasn’t on good terms with her parents after they learned that she’d be raising a kid alone, without marriage or even a boyfriend. After you were born, they did visit and spent time with you, but never with your mom, their daughter. So she couldn’t even call them to come live with her. You weren’t going to abandon her when she only has you.
“I–,” she put her chopsticks down, “I met someone at work.”
“What! What does that mean?”
“It means, I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Oh my– you’re trying to get rid of me to have—” you stared at her, mouth wide open from shock, “sex,” you mouthed.
“Oh grow up y/n, I’m an adult, where do you think you came from.”
“Uh– rude.”
“I’m just saying, this is your last year in high school, if next year you want to stay at camp, you can.”
“And you’d be fine with it?”
She nodded.
“What if I want to stay here, at home?”
“Then you’d stay here, as long as you want, this is your home as well.”
“I’ll– I’ll think about it.”
And then it was finally time to leave for camp again. Your mom drove you to the airport and you left with your suitcase in hand. It was the longest flight ever, and the cab seemed to be driving even slower than a snail. An old lady on foot was faster than this, but then you were finally there.
“Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the cab driver asked, seeing the empty road.
“Yes,” you gave him the money, “keep the change, bye.”
When you arrived at camp, Chiron was waiting for you at the entrance already, and you greeted him happily.
“How was the trip to camp?”
“Great. Long and tiring for sure, but I’m so excited too.”
“Good, we’re going to leave soon, you can go put your things in your cabin first.”
The first one to spot you was Cornelia, and she came running to hug you. And then Will came in very quickly to give you a hug as well.
“I missed you guys so much,” you smiled.
“I wish you were staying here all the time,” Will said. “I’m all alone at the infirmary.”
“You’re leaving him alone?” you gasped at Michael.
“He kicked me out! Said you had a whole system going on there and I wasn’t following it correctly.”
“He also wasn’t doing karaoke afternoons with me,” Will told you.
“How dare he. That’s ‘cause he has no taste.”
“I can hear you,” Michael stood beside you.
“Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation.”
“Yeah do you mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Will repeated.
It felt great to be at camp – it felt safe, familiar and comforting. You put your suitcase beside your bed, and grabbed some chocolate bars from your backpack and put them in your pocket. Will, who stayed by your side, pleaded with his eyes to get one too and you couldn’t resist.
“I’ll give you more later,” you promised him.
You left your cabin with your siblings as it was time to leave camp. Everyone was on their way to the entrance. You looked around, hoping to catch Clarisse, and there she was, way ahead of you. You turned around, facing your siblings and after a brief “see you up there”, you ran off.
Clarisse was talking to her brother, and she looked around for you. She was expecting you to be beside Chiron at the entrance, but you weren't. Maybe you were late? When suddenly, she felt someone jump on her back, and her immediate response was to grab their arm and throw them on the ground.
“Ugh! Motherfucker,” you moaned, laying on the ground, with Clarisse holding down on your arm on the ground.
“What the hell!” Clarisse immediately let go and helped you get up. “Why would you do that?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” you rubbed your arm. “Why would you do that?”
“You jumped on me! Are you ok?” Clarisse worried.
You stared at her, dumbstruck.
“No! I’m not!”
Just when she was about to talk, Chiron called for all the campers to gather around, and you left without giving her the chance to speak. Your whole back was aching, and you tried not to think about it too much, but that was impossible because of Clarisse’s strength. Clarisse tried to grab your arm to slow you down, but you shook her off. Then, Michael and Lee just had to get involved.
“Butt off Clarisse,” Michael squeezed himself between you two. “Didn’t you do enough by crushing y/n to dust? So much for being friends,” he snickered.
“Fuck off Michael unless you want to wake up in the morning missing your front row teeth,” Clarisse spat.
Michael did back away a little, bumping into you.
“How can you be friends with her,” he turned around to look at you.
Clarisse has been wondering the same thing for the past few days. The Apollo cabin and the Ares cabin weren’t known to be friendly with each other. They tolerated each other at best when they were on the same team for Capture the Flag, but that was it. And when you left, she started to wonder about your friendship. Maybe you’d forget about her once you’re back at home. And the first week, all she could think about was when – or if – you’d reach out.
But every Sunday, at 9:00am she’d receive a package with your recording and pictures and candy for your siblings and her. You had never given her any reason to doubt your relationship, but not everyone in your cabin, or at camp, were thinking that way. Michael had been one of those people, always wondering loud and clear about your friendship. So that was Clarisse’s final straw.
She grabbed Michael’s collar, ready to punch him, but Lee tried to calm the situation down.
“Clarisse, please don’t,” Lee grabbed Michael’s hands, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“He clearly does. He’s been talking about it nonstop for the past few weeks.”
You frowned. You looked at Michael, then Lee and finally at Clarisse. The pure rage in her eyes would make anyone run away, but you stepped up.
“Clarisse,” you put your hands on her arms, “it’s fine, let go please. Chiron is waiting for us.”
She locked her eyes with you, clearly still upset about the situation, and pushed Michael away, but Lee was behind to hold him back.
“Clarisse, what was that about?”
“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. See you.”
And she walked away, leaving you confused. You turned around, giving a questioning look at your brothers, but Lee only mouthed a ‘I don’t know’ and Michael avoided your gaze. You were ready to argue with them, but Will came running, telling you they were ready to leave.
The trip to the Empire State Building was long, especially with Clarisse ignoring you. You tried talking to Michael, but he was also ignoring you, and suddenly, everyone at camp lost their ability to talk. Annoyed, you went to the back of the bus, where no one was. But then Will came.
“What’s wrong? You look like Clarisse all the time. Frowning and sulking.”
“I’m not!” you relaxed your face. “Also while we're talking about Clarisse, what’s that about how we’re not supposed to be friends?”
Will grimaced, and looked away for a second.
“People have been wondering about how you, sweet and fun Apollo daughter, could be friends with ruthless Clarisse La Rue, Ares daughter. Because the Apollo cabin does not get along with the Ares cabin, like at all.”
“And Clarisse was upset? Over people’s opinions about us?”
“Well…” Will stretched that vowel for far too long. “You know people, and how they love to gossip. And somehow it went from enemy cabins to how there are better friends to have… than Clarisse. And how she’s not… worth it,” he hesitated. “And she only brings you trouble… things like that.”
You were too stunned to give any type of answers.
“Clarisse doesn’t look like someone who cares about those kind of rumours and speculations, but insecurities are created by people’s opinion,” Will said, “that’s what Lee told me when people were talking about me and I started to feel bad.”
“What were people talking about?” you frowned.
“I’m not as good as you all with my archery skills.”
“That’s not–, I mean it doesn’t matter.”
“I know, Lee and Cornelia and Michael and everyone at our cabin was there to tell me that.”
“Okay, and they’re right.”
“I’m saying… maybe Clarisse doesn't have that sort of support system. And maybe she is starting to feel like other people are right.”
“Oh.”
You looked at where Clarisse was sitting, in the middle, sitting next to her sister. It was a four seat table, and her three siblings were all laughing and shouting, but Clarisse wasn’t. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed.
You saw her frown and turned her head in your direction, but when she saw you looking at her, she quickly turned her head to her siblings.
“You should talk to her, and clear things up. Because Clarisse is nice. I like her.”
“Since when? You never talk.”
“Clarisse is nice to me, she always has been since we’ve met that one time,” he admitted. “I think she deserves good friends. Like us.”
“I think so too,” you agreed.
When it was time to get off the bus, everyone rushed out, separating you from Clarisse even further. Well, the talk had to wait.
The trip to the 600th floor took too long. Every cabin went one by one since it couldn’t hold the whole camp at once. The Ares cabin went before the Apollo cabin, but Clarisse stood straight and looked ahead. She had her back turned to you, even once inside the elevator, but at the last minute she turned around and locked eyes with you.
“We’ll talk,” you mouthed clearly.
There was no escaping you. When it was your turn, you stepped in last so you could leave first. It took forever to reach floor 600. And just as you expected, there was no sign of Clarisse. She stayed close to her brothers.
Each cabin had to do a presentation in front of the gods, and it was the worst thing for them and for you all too. Every time they clapped at the end, you knew it wasn’t as a compliment but more as a cheers to being closer to the end.
After that, there was a big feast. The gods watching you eat and burn your food for them – it was weird and you couldn’t keep your eyes off your father. His tanned skin, golden hair, and bright smile.
“Blinding isn’t he,” Lee said.
“Yeah, I should’ve brought my sunglasses. Do you ever talk?”
“Not much. They don’t come just to hang around their kids.”
“He kinda looks like a classmate I’d have if people at my school weren’t all dressed like they just left prison. He looks young.”
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Lee shrugged.
After dinner, campers just hang around talking, and some of the gods would come and talk to their children. You looked around and spotted the Hermes cabin staying together, far away from the main event, and then you tried to look for Clarisse, but she was nowhere. You turned around and bumped into your father. You quickly stepped away.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“It’s alright. How have you been? Have you been settling well with everything?” he smiled.
“Um… Yes.”
What more could you say? You weren’t going to start saying the truth to this god that happened to be your father.
“How is your mother?”
“Great,” you nodded, smiling. “She’s been seeing someone you know, after,” you looked at your wrist and pretended there was a watch, “eighteen years of having no one.”
“y/n,” he sighed looking away, “that’s just how things work with us gods. She knew from the start who I was, I told her.”
“It’s fine. I was merely stating a fact.”
Please somebody end this conversation, you prayed.
“Well, well, well,” someone slapped your dad’s shoulder.
“Ares,” your dad greeted him. “This is y/n, my daughter.”
“Ah, the girl my daughter has been seeing.”
Apollo whipped his head around, beaming at you.
“You have a girlfriend?” he held you in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. Way to go, who and where is the lucky girl.”
You stared at him, and then at Ares, mouth wide open in shock.
“I– I don’t! It’s– It’s not!” you stuttered. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Clarisse is my friend, who is a girl indeed. So yeah girl,” you paused, “friend. I haven’t been seeing her, I’ve been seeing her as in, she lives at camp and so did I during the summer!”
“Oh,” he let go of you. “My bad. You could’ve been more clear,” he looked at Ares. “Well I have to go now,” he walked away. “See you soon, y/n.”
Ares didn’t follow your father. He stayed with you, staring at you. Clarisse looked at you the same way when you first arrived at camp.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you admitted.
“Well, I am the war god. They had to have shown you my picture somewhere between those classes they have,” he nodded toward Chiron.
“No, it’s not that,” you frowned.
Meanwhile, Clarisse was talking to Mark when she spotted Apollo leaving in a hurry, and she looked at where he came from. And her eyes spotted you immediately, and then she saw her father standing tall, towering over you.
“Fuck,” she mumbled before leaving the conversation without any notice.
She rushed to where you stood. There was no way she was going to let you alone with her father.
“... on twitter!” you shouted, hiding a smile. “Clarisse, I was just telling your father about us knowing each other through twitter!”
“What?” she mumbled, pulling you closer to her.
“I’m always starting fights with him on twitter, because he’s always talking shit and nonsense. He doesn’t know me though.”
“Wait–,” Ares interrupted. “Are you that fan account of that blonde singer?”
“Yes!” you laughed.
He snickered, then stopped and turned to Clarisse.
“Clarisse.”
“Dad.”
Then he stared at you, before going back to Clarisse.
“You can leave now,” he gave you a brief look. “I want to talk to Clarisse. Alone.”
Clarisse, who the whole time didn’t let go of your hand, squeezed it. Hard. Before letting go. But you didn’t move, slightly worried.
“I–,” you started, but Clarisse turned to you, face blank.
“I’ll find you after this, go.”
You nodded without arguing and left. You quickly spotted your siblings and joined them, listening to what they were saying. You’d glance at Clarisse’s direction, and all you could see was Clarisse nodding, looking at her feet. Ares was in his human form, but even like that he looked impressive. He was tall and broad, he had these eyes you didn’t want to look straight into from fear. He gave Clarisse a final, firm, pat on the shoulder before leaving her there. She stood there for a full minute before straightening her back and searched for you in the ocean of people. But before she could find you, you were already on your way to her.
“Are you okay?” you immediately asked.
“I’m fine.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He…” she hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”
You stood there, torn between insisting and letting it go. If you insisted when she wasn’t ready to talk, then you’d be a pushy friend who doesn’t respect any boundaries. But if you didn’t, then maybe it’d seem like you didn’t care.
“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Well, if you don’t have anything more to say, I do.”
“y/n…” Clarisse sighed.
“No! You ignored me the whole day when I just came back for you. And then that thing that happened with Michael,” she rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, “what was that about?”
“It doesn’t—”
“Stop saying that! It does matter. It matters to me how you feel. About this and everything else.”
Clarisse stared at you. Her eyes pleading with you to let it go.
“I just…” you sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. And I don’t—” you groaned in frustration. “Will told me,” you admitted, “about what people have been saying and what Michael has been saying,” you found it hard to find your words. “I– I want you to know that’s not what I think. And I—.”
You should’ve been rehearsing this. You took a deep breath.
“They’re not right about this. And I don’t want you to think that they are. Because you, Clarisse La Rue, are the best friend anyone could ask for. And because of you, I’m better than ever. I’ve been a better fighter because of you, I’ve been a better friend because of you. You taught me how to stand up for myself, and I’ve just been happier since I’ve met you. So I don’t want you to listen to what people have to say.”
Clarisse still hadn’t said anything, which was excruciating. Just as you were about to continue ranting about this, she pulled you in her arms. You wrapped your arms around her, and put your head on her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and let go.
It didn’t last long enough, but you’ll take what she gave you.
“Are we ok?”
“We’re ok,” Clarisse nodded.
The rest of the evening was spent with you sitting on some big rocks that served as chairs, catching up. She’d tell about all the times she won at Capture the Flag, she’d tell you about the indigestion everyone had due to food poisoning that one day, she’d tell you about that time she had to go to the infirmary and only let Will heal her because there was no way she’d let Michael help her. She’d tell you about every little thing you’d miss during those months when you went home, and you listened to everything she had to say, with your head resting on her shoulder.
“Oh gods,” you straightened your back, pointing ahead of you. “Is that your dad with Aphrodite?”
“Fuck,” she cringed. “Are they making out?”
“I mean– he definitely is. It’s weird,” you looked away, then went back to staring at them.
“Stop staring at my dad sucking the goddess of love’s face.”
“Are you sure he’s your dad though? Cause Aphrodite looks exactly like you.”
Clarisse whipped her head around, eyes wide, staring at you.
“What?” she breathed.
“What, what?”
She paused, still staring at you.
“Nothing,” she smiled, and then looked back, “they’re gone.”
“Finally. It’s gross to make out in front of your children like that.”
All the campers spent the night in Olympus, all sleeping in the same area. The room looked exactly like inside a normal cabin at camp, with bunk beds and cupboards, and for once, friends from different cabins were allowed to sleep together. You dragged Clarisse with you, where the Apollo cabin stayed.
“We’re all used to staying together,” you explained, “but you can stay with me. Are you sleeping on the top bunk or bottom one?”
“Bottom one,” Clarisse sat on the bed.
“Ooh,” Cornelia sat next to Clarisse,” so does y/n.”
“It’s fine, it’s only for one night,” you waved it off.
“Did you see Clarisse’s dad making out in the open with their mother,” Cornelia pointed at the Aphrodite children.
“We did!” you squealed, squeezing yourself between the two of them.
“I think everyone did,” Clarisse added.
“Did you notice how Aphrodite looked exactly like Clarisse,” you looked at Cornelia.
Her eyes widened, and shook her head slightly. Clarisse was leaning against the bed frame, her legs crossed on the bed, smirking. You frowned.
“What?” you mouthed.
“We’ll come back”, Cornelia dragged you away.
“What?”
“Do you know what it means to perceive Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, passion and lust, as someone you know?” she asked.
“As someone I know? What does that mean?”
“Aphrodite doesn’t look like Clarisse,” she explained, “you perceive the goddess as such because you think Clarisse is those things.”
“Oh,” you paused. “Is that common knowledge or?”
You hoped not.
“Yeah it is, so you probably shouldn’t say those things in front of Clarisse if you’re not…”
“If I’m not what?”
“Nevermind.”
“I already told her, twice now with what happened a few minutes ago. Oh gods, couldn’t you have taught me this earlier!” you panicked. “What–What does that mean though? Do I– Am I—,” you gave a quick glance at Clarisse.
“I don’t know! I mean, you did ask her on a date like the first week you arrived at camp, what could that mean?”
“I don’t know? I think she’s pretty, and– and apparently I think she could look exactly like the goddess of love herself. It’s—,” you took a deep breath.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to know.”
“I think,” you hesitated. “I don’t know!” you whined. “Clarisse is nice to me, she’s fun to be around, she’s pushing me upwards and I think I might– maybe– perhaps have a tiny crush on her, yes,” you admitted.
“Aw,” she beamed, “I think you’d make such a cute couple.”
“Calm your tits down,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “I don’t know if this will ever go further than us being friends. Now look natural, and never tell anyone else this. Okay, let’s go back.”
Clarisse was talking to Will when you two came back, but they abruptly stopped. Will stood so Cornelia and you could sit.
“What was that about?” Cornelia asked them.
“It’s a secret,” Will smiled.
“We were talking about how sunshine over there thought I looked like a goddess,” Clarisse grinned.
Will tried to hide his laugh.
“No one told me!” you hid your face in your hand from embarrassment. “You could’ve stopped me the first time I said it,” you accused Clarisse, who was still laughing.
“The first?” Will interrupted.
“Both times in front of Clarisse,” Cornelia added. “It was hard to watch,” she teased you.
Time went by very fast when you’re surrounded by friends and family, because it was already time to go to sleep. The lights disappeared, and you climbed onto your bed, and whispered Clarisse a goodnight before closing your eyes.
The silence was deafening. You couldn’t fall asleep, you needed white noises, music, anything but this. You tossed around, left your right leg outside the blanket, but then it was too cold, so you put it back inside, and tossed around again.
“What the hell y/n,” Clarisse whispered loudly.
“Sorry, I can’t fall asleep.”
“Why?” she sighed.
“It’s too quiet, and I’m cold.”
Clarisse let out a bigger sigh, before getting up.
“Where’re you going?” you sat up.
“Get down here, and bring your blanket.”
You did as she told you. You put the blanket on your shoulders and climbed down.
“Get in the bed,” she pointed at hers.
You did as she told you. And then she climbed back inside her bed, next to you, with both blankets on you. The beds on Olympus were bigger than the ones at camp, so it was no problem to fit you two in one single bed.
“Better?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
Clarisse fell asleep very quickly, like always. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. But it took more time with you, you were used to looking at your phone until your eyelids were too tired to stay open, but now you couldn’t. You had nothing, only Clarisse sleeping peacefully next to you.
She slept on her back, with her head tilted toward you. Unlike her, you slept on your side, so you turned your back to her, and closed your eyes. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Clarisse arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to her. And then, in an instant, you were gone.
The happiness from staying at camp didn’t last long as it was already time to go home and say goodbye to everyone. Your holidays came to an end and so did your stay at camp, and just like last time, Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance.
“So,” you started, ‘I guess we’ll see each other next summer?”
“Yea,” she nodded. “Next summer.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you promised, “and I’ll keep sending you updates, though I don’t know if I’ll continue to be as regular as before. I do have my high school diploma to get, and I’ll have less time but I’ll do my best!”
“It’s okay, good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, but still didn’t leave.
It was too soon, and it felt like you barely spent any time with Clarisse and your siblings.
“Did you say goodbye to Will and the others?” Clarisse asked.
“Yea, before I left the cabin I did. It sucks that I have to, but–,” you hesitated, “maybe I won’t have to next year.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know yet, but… it’s a possibility.”
“Oh,” she smiled, “okay.”
“Okay. Well… I have to go now.”
“Okay.”
You two stood there, without moving. But then you lunged forward and hugged her tightly.
“I’ll miss you,” you whispered.
And you let go, and left before she could give you her answer.
One recording per week became one every other week, and by December, it was only one per month. Clarisse didn’t send anything from December to February either, but then on a random day in March, you received a package from Hermes Express with Clarisse’s usual pictures from camp, without any notes explaining what happened those last few months. You didn’t mention it either, but you gave yourself a quick reminder to ask her when you’d be back at camp.
“It’s almost time, are you ready?” your mom asked.
“Yep, a minute!”
Your exams were done, you didn’t have the results yet but that didn’t matter – your mom promised she’d send them to you once she’d receive them so you could leave for camp peacefully. You packed lightly – a third of your belongings were already at camp – and went inside the cab your mom had called for you.
“Be careful okay,” she kissed your temple. “And write to me about your decision, okay?”
“I will, I promise,” you gave her a last quick hug and closed the cab door.
The journey to camp felt familiar now, you’d done it a few times already so it was a stress free trip. So you kept your suitcase close to you, you turned your phone off, and walked.
But something was off when you got closer to the entrance. It was loud. Louder than usual, and there were more people at the border everywhere as well, which were usually empty. You crossed the entrance, and most campers were wearing their gears, and weapons.
“What the hell,” you whispered.
You quickly noticed Clarisse, giving orders to campers, and walking around. When she turned around, she spotted you and ran to you, very quickly.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you were going to be here!” she shot.
“I wanted to surprise you! Why are you yelling at me!” you shouted back.
Clarisse stepped back and mouthed a quick apology.
“A lot of things happened while you were gone,” she explained.
“Like when you stopped sending me anything?”
She nodded reluctantly.
“A new camper came in, got claimed by Poseidon, and then got his quest to retrieve Zeus’ stolen bolt, and…” she hesitated. “We know who stole it in the first place. Luke.”
“Luke?” your eyes widened. “As in Castellan, Hermes' head– former head counsellor?”
She nodded again.
“And now Thalia’s tree has been poisoned, meaning the camp’s borders are weakened and we have to keep them safe ourselves.”
“Okay,” you proceeded with this information as fast as you could. “Okay.”
“I was worried sick for the past few days! You didn’t send me anything like last time. I didn’t know when you were going to be here, or if you’d gotten attacked and died.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!” you argued.
“I–,” she hesitated, “I didn’t want to burden you with your studies.”
“They’re not important, this is obviously my priority and much more important.”
“Okay,” she looked around. “Stay beside me, I want to keep an eye on you whenever a battle is going to break out.”
You frowned.
“That’s cute, but I’d be much more useful if I stayed with the rest of the Apollo cabin where we’re needed. I’m a great fighter, I know,” you said before she could interrupt, “thanks to you, but I’m much better at archery.”
She stared at you, then looked down.
“I can’t…” she whispered, “I can’t protect you if you’re this far away from me.”
“Clarisse,” you cupped her face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You worry about staying alive, and I’ll do the same. It’s going to be fine. Remember, you taught me everything I know.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Okay.”
“Where’s your spear by the way?” you asked when she walked you to your cabin.
She grimaced, and sighed.
“Gone.”
“Gone? Wha–.”
“Percy Jackson,” she spat. “The new kid, I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”
You threw your stuff inside your cabin, and changed your clothes before walking out with Clarisse still outside, waiting for you. Clarisse was about to talk, but was interrupted by screams from campers at the entrance.
You looked at each other and ran off to where the screams were, and saw it. Two immense bulls – colchis Bulls – coming straight towards campers.
“Go find Lee, I’ll handle this from here. He’ll know what to do,” Clarisse ordered before walking away.
“Clarisse!” you shouted before she was out of range. She turned her head. “Be careful.”
She nodded.
“Don’t die,” she added before leaving.
#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue fanfic#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue pjo#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse la rue imagine#clarisse la rue
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Promise Me | Part II
When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 5.2k++
Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: little angst, melancholy but fluffy stuff, we have bucky's pov in this one, lovers who missed each other very much, emotional reunion, probably bad writing of fighting scenes (sorry guys), mentions of suicide, mentions of sexy times, death of main character (y/n' s past life), another attempt to follow mcu timeline, otherwise, nothing that's too heavy/sensitive for anyone to read.
P/S: Thanks so much for the feedbacks in previous chapters! Here's the new update, guys! I hope you enjoy your reading!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Brooklyn, 2024 – Glimpses of the past
"So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?" Dr. Raynor asked as she leaned leisurely on her chair. However long it had been since the first time she met Bucky on their first therapy session, she still couldn't crack the man to talk more than he deem necessary.
Bucky sat silently on the sofa that was certainly big enough to fit three people with its size, as he stared blankly at the door behind Dr. Raynor, wanting to avoid eye contact with the woman.
"James, I asked you a question." She prompted as she crosses her legs together. "Are you still having nightmares?"
If he was being truthful, then his answer would've been yes, however he decided to test if she managed to see through him, "No." He replied with a convincing tone.
Dr. Raynor paused for a moment as she eyed his behaviour, "We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying." She quirked her eyebrow as if she was non-verbally asked him to cut the crap.
"Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?"
Yes. Something did happened recently.
Sure, there was the horrid nightmare that had been haunting him in his sleep most of the nights, but lately there was something else that's been making unannounced appearance in his dreams. Something much older than his memories of the Winter Soldier.
They were glimpses of the past where he was but a man in his mid 20's living his best life with a woman he thought he was going to end up growing old with.
Bucky saw images of his younger, undamaged self tangled up in bed with that woman. His hands raking through her raven hair as he pushed the mess away from her face. And when she whined in her sleep he would let out a soft chuckle as he lovingly stroke his thumb across her cheek.
He remembered feeling the tug in his chest when the morning light touches her brown eyes as she peeled them open. He remembered the sweet smile she graced upon him as she pulled him in for an innocent kiss. He remembered the warmth of her naked skin rubbing against his own when she snuggled back into his body.
Those were always a pleasant dream to have during his sleepless nights. However rare it was to have them; he found himself spared in the gentle grace that she left behind from those loose pieces of memories. He realized that his broken soul yearns for her peace more than his will longs for his freedom.
"No." He lied again.
"You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…" Dr. Raynor gestured her hands as if there was an invisible knife in her grasp as she motioned a stabbing movement.
Bucky let out a silent sigh, nodding his head with a somewhat forced derpy smile as she continued to explain, "It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare."
However, Bucky remained stubborn on keeping the memories of his lover to himself. He simply shook his head as he briefly looked to the side and out the window, before coming back and confessed, "I didn’t have a nightmare."
Dr. Raynor breathed deeply, letting the air out through her nose as she clicked on the mechanical pen. The pointer latched on the surface of the lined papers as she started to write down her observation.
Bucky who was sitting on the opposite side only scoffed in respond to her petty attempt of threat, "Oh, come on. Really?" He taunted, "You’re gonna do the notebook thing?" Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he commented his thoughts outspokenly, "Why? It’s passive aggressive."
"You don’t talk. I write." The therapist replied with a short comeback.
Bucky glared intensely at her before letting out a sigh, "Okay. Okay."
His flesh fingers started to fiddle with his metal ones, a habit which he noticed he recently picked up after getting used to the high-tech vibranium arm.
"It wasn't a nightmare. It's just..." Bucky didn't know how to put it in words other than, "...a good dream."
It was in the peak of witching hours, when Y/N stood in the middle of the tiny kitchen section of her lover's humble apartment. The quiet of the night sometimes interrupted by the sound of the droplets trickling from the faucet.
There was a luminating light of the full moon that leaks through the open window, granting enough of a vision to see the layout of the kitchen. The stillness of the air made Y/N wonder if this is what she would need to go through soon.
Just an empty atmosphere without the presence of her lover.
And there she goes again, wondering in the seemingly endless darkness, thinking of the worst things that could possibly happen.
She had been staring unblinkingly at the counter top for who knows how long since she was woken up from her slumber.
Y/N couldn't go back sleep even if she needed to. Not when tomorrow is the day that she dreaded the most. The day Bucky was going on his first call, to be sent away to England first thing morning.
"Missed you in bed, yknow?" The huskiness of Bucky's voice broke her from the gloomy thoughts.
Y/N turned around to first see the bare shape of her lover's body, lean and slightly muscular, then trailed up to his sleepy grin, barely opened eyes and the mess of his bed hair sticking out all over the place.
She had to admit, partially, it was her fault for constantly pulling on them when he went down on her. But it was also important to note that it was entirely his fault for being so damn good at it.
Bucky's humming was hoarse when he walked towards her, "What are you doing up, doll?" While Y/N watched his naked figure moved closer.
Bucky Barnes is a beautiful man.
She knew that even before they started dating but it is a wonder that his beauty still to manage to catch her off guard sometimes.
The moment he engulfed her into his arms, she whispered onto his skin, "Can't sleep." She kept it short and ambiguous but that only became the biggest giveaway to Bucky.
Bucky effortlessly lifted her up on the counter as he settled comfortably in between her legs. His hands trailed along the side of her thighs, casually lifting up the thin material of her night gown before going under it to gently fondle with the flesh of her hips.
He leaned upwards, placing the softest kiss on her lips as he murmured, "Everything's going to be alright, y/n." He kissed her again for a good measure, "I'll be home to you before you know it."
Y/N wrapped arms around his neck, pulling him closer until their forehead touches each other's, "You must write me, always." She spoke quietly; as if it was a secret she wanted to keep from the world.
"You must tell me everything, James. Don't hide anything from me; every blood, sweat and tears. I want to know all of it." Her eyes pleaded desperately, "You must be safe." Their lips hovered over each others; so close, barely even touching, "And come home."
The blue of his eyes were glazed with so much love and adoration as he whispered, "I promise, doll. I'm not going to die before I meet you at the end of the isle."
Somehow, Bucky always knew what to say to make her crack a smile, "I love you, James. Too much for my own good." She pulled him as she kissed his soft lips, "I love you too, y/n. More than anything." He grabbed her by the head, latching his mouth on hers as if it was their last kiss.
Before she knew it, Bucky swiftly pulled her off from the counter and grabbed her onto his shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise. "Oh my god, Bucky! Put me down right now!" The brunette simply laugh as she shriek his name, "James!"
"James!" Dr. Raynor managed to pull Bucky out of his thoughts. "You're clearly out of it today." She remarked before continuing, "And so, this woman in your dreams... Is she someone you knew back in the 40's?"
Bucky replied, "Most probably." He hesitated as he thought thoroughly, "Or it could just be a made up character that only exists in my dreams."
"Does she perhaps, have a name?" Dr. Raynor asked, in which he simply answered, "She does."
There was brief silence of unbroken eye-contact between them, before Bucky realized that the therapist was silently enquiring her name.
Bucky straightened his position in his seat as blatantly stated, "I'm not telling you her name." That was where he drew the line. Therapist or not; she didn't need to know his lover's identity.
Dr. Raynor hanged her hands up as a sign of defeat, "Okay, okay. That's fair." That was when the timer on her phone went off, "Oh, time's up." She reached for her phone and slide across the screen.
She quickly stood on her feet as soon as Bucky did on his own, "That would be all for this session. Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Barnes."
He had to let out a sarcastic chuckle when he said, "It's not that I want to anyway. It's mandatory." He walked towards the door but before he could turn the knob, Dr. Raynor spoke.
"Outside of this 'mandatory' session, I'd say my advice to you as a friend, is to maybe find her. Or her family." She suggested, "And if you're lucky..." She briefly paused, "...maybe she's still alive somewhere."
Bucky remained static for a moment before he spoke, "Thanks, Doc." He didn't look back to face her at all, before walking out the room feeling much more burdened than he did entering it.
Dr. Raynor's advice soon turned out to be a constant dilemma to him more than he anticipated.
Virginia, 1991 – The man she once loved
Y/N panicked. She didn't think the appearance of that metal-armed man will trigger a deep-rooted memories she was desperately trying to forget; spiralling her back into old chapters of her previous life.
It was the year of 1991 and Y/N was in her 6th life. She was a black widow that went rogue after managed on escaping the Red Room program about a few years prior. She was drunk on hatred and vengeance that she almost recklessly killed half of the people in her facility on the day she escaped.
It's not to say that she came out uncut, it was quite the opposite really. Y/N had left the grounds with multiple holes on her body and a deep wound her face; a cut from the inner edge of her right brow all the way across her left cheek.
And that left her with a very prominent and unforgettable scar. Though she couldn't care less about it, especially when she knew Hydra was out there still thriving under another intellegence organization like some kind of parasite.
After she heard the news that Howard Stark has successfully replicate the super soldier serum, she is now somewhere in Virginia, trying to hijack the products before it falls in the hands of the Pentagon or worst, Hydra.
Unfortunately for her, the worst thing that could happen, happened.
Someone from Hydra managed to get their hands on them before she could, leaving the corpses of Howard Stark and his wife in the broken down car, posing it as a road accident.
The bodies was still warm and she knew the culprit won't be far from the crime scene, so she rode on forward until managed to catch up with him. She never intended to confront him head on. She was planning to follow him to the meeting point where they will transfer the products to another Hydra agent, like they always do.
But he certainly didn't care about her plan when he changed his route to a different location. She didn't even realized that her incognito was useless when he nearly shot her in the head.
Now, with her cover blown, it was just him and her alone at the gate of an abandoned building. "Well, shit." Y/N cursed.
She could feel the heavy tension from the atmosphere. Silence from the wordless man were screaming louder than her pumping heartbeat.
There were only two of those run-down street lamp that helped to brigthen up the battlefield. But even with the dying light, Y/N could see the silver of left arms, a red star on the upper side, black mask covering lower half of his face and a messy black shadow all over his eyes.
She knew who he was; though most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. Hydra's most prized asset from the Winter Soldier program that Y/N had been trying to track for months.
Maybe it was a careless greed, or maybe she was just tired of living. But, Y/N dared herself to fight the against super soldier. It was intense but completely one-sided as the soldier managed to counter most her punches and kicks.
There were times that she felt like he was simply playing around with her and that riled Y/N to the core. If it wasn't enough for God to toy with her life, now this weapon of Hydra is joining the fun.
She was sick of it; and it got her to be impatient. That, however, was a mistake that she shouldn't have done especially during a hand-to-hand combat with the Winter Soldier himself.
Y/N ducked down from his swinging arm as she surged her own towards him but the man could see her moves from a mile away, so he dropped his knife to his other hand and managed to strike the blade right into where her pulsing heart resides.
All the times she had ripped her own life, it seemed that her soul was used to the pain that it took a few moments of time to register the pain.
"Ah, this is truly exhausting." She thought to herself.
She wanted it to end.
She wanted to rest. For good.
In her hazy vision, she looked up at the soldier and noticed that he had been staring blankly into her eyes; like a curious predator watching his dying prey.
She knew it was wrong, but looking closer at the shade of blue in his dead and frozen eyes, she couldn't help to find the resemblance in the man she once loved.
It was cruel to find the semblance of her lover in the eyes of her killer, but that tends to happen when a person's soul longed for someone so much that everything and anything became the reminder of them.
Streams of tears trickled down into her ears as her blood seeped through her clothes, staining the fabric and the ground under her.
Instead of hearing the sound of the soldier's footstep walking away, all she could hear was the vivid memories of Bucky's laughter, "I miss you, James."
She truly did.
She missed him so much that she wished that she can finally die this time around, praying for a chance to meet him once more.
But alas, that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Not when the God hates her now.
"I miss you so much." her voice shivered as she whispered her last breath.
Madripoor, 2024 – Long-lost lover
Easy to say, Y/N was furious that she let the memories of her past, the appearance of the winter soldier, distract her focus for her mission. She was furious that she didn't manage to get into Wilfred's lab before someone else did.
Don't get her wrong, though.
She was somewhat grateful when she found him dead, because that's means there's one less parasite that could potentially revive Hydra from the recreation of super soldier serum. But, she was pissed that she wasn't able to dig for more information about his research and the people he was affiliated with.
She knew he was recruited by the CIA before the blip but seeing that his lab is now basically a cargo, located in Madripoor, she doubt that he has anything to do with CIA now.
He's probably working with someone else in the underground scene.
Y/N sat leg-crossed on stacks of cargo, as she watched the scene from afar. The bounty hunters were ruthlessly attacking a group of criminals that attacked Shelby last night, while they were completely out-numbered.
She heard from the bar that it was considerably a high pay for the rewards especially when the targets were consists of the runaway prisoner, Zemo, Hydra's weapon, the Winter Soldier and the member of Avenger, the Falcon.
It was indeed an odd group of people but she couldn't care less about how that came to be. What caught her attention was the fact that the Falcon, who is a member of the Avenger, was affiliated with the Winter Soldier, who is an asset of Hydra.
And the fact that they were digging their feet in the underground world for the super soldier serum making the trio combination even more concerning.
She knew it was the best bet to approach the Falcon for information rather than going for the other two, so when the group split up during their fight, she quietly followed the Falcon.
He was a bit clumsy when fighting alone; or maybe it was because the hunters kept streaming in non-stop. Nonetheless, one by one, eventually the Falcon managed to take them down.
Y/N lurked at the corner, quietly observing his fighting style as he struggled with the few that was left.
"He's going to run out of ammo." She thought to herself.
And two shots later, he did.
There were two hunters left and he had no choice but to use his fists. Looking at him now, maybe he suited the hand-to-hand combat style more than gun combat. Y/N noticed his moves are more seamless than when he fight with a gun a few seconds ago.
The Falcon breathed heavily as the last hunter was tackled down. She decided that it had to be now or never, at least before the winter soldier came to the scene to regroup. When she stepped out of her camouflage, the Falcon only noticed her presence that he missed the red dot on his chest.
But, Y/N saw it, "Fuck! He can't die. Not before I get what I want." She couldn't let him go without getting information she needed from him.
In mere seconds, she jumped towards him and managed to pulled him away from the target. However, it was not far enough, that was when the bullet grazed on his side. Y/N quickly grabbed her throwing knife and land it right into the hunter's head.
The Falcon staggered backwards, meeting his back on the side of the cargo as he groaned in pain. His eyes scanned the appearance of his potential saviour; hooded figure, mask-covered face, assassin-like dressed – he realized that she matched the description of what Sharon had warned him before.
"So before we move, this might be unrelated, but I gotta warn you guys about someone." Sharon spoke as she equipped herself.
The three men looked over her as they gave their undivided attention, "While last night was hectic with the return of the Winter Soldier." She briefly looked over at Bucky, "But, there was also another person that made an appearance."
"She's known as the Deathstalker." She paused. "What I can say about her is she's a basically mystery; appeared out of thin air a few months into the blip." Sharon explained, earning a couple of nods from Sam and the signature frown from Bucky.
However, Zemo simply smiled and commented, "Ah, the pretty little Deathstalker." The mannerism of his speech was thick with Sokovian accent.
"You know her?" Sharon quirked.
Zemo smiled again, this time a little bit too smug, "We might have once crossed our path." He kept it ambiguous.
"When? You were in the prison years before the blip." Sam frowned as he questioned.
Sipping on the glass of liquor, Zemo answered, "She may or may not have 'visited' me to get some information about Hydra."
The mention of Hydra caught Bucky's attention but he kept it well hidden under his stoic expression. Noticing Sam's confusion with Zemo's insinuating answer, Bucky simply laid it out for him, "It means, she broke into the prison, Sam." he simply sighed.
Sam jutted his lips as he shrugged, "Guess you're not the only one who's insane here, Buck." He teased as he poked fun of Bucky's decision of 'breaking into the prison' to let Zemo out.
"You said, 'pretty little Deathstalker'. So you've seen her face?" Sharon asked curiously as she crossed her arms to her chest. No one had seen the assassin's face before, so she could help but to ask.
Zemo shook his head, "No. But that signature mask of hers cannot hide the beauty within." He smirked as he recalled the look in the Deathstalker's eyes; she had that obsession for vengeance. As he did when he broke the Avengers apart .
"You see, I've always had the eyes for beautiful things." He explained as if it was a natural thing to say.
Sharon knew shouldn't let herself expect too much from Zemo, especially when he had that attitude. She simply rolled her eyes and walked towards the seat next to Sam.
Bucky leaned his back into the sofa, spreading his legs apart as he asked, "Is she gonna be a problem?" An assissin that's been breaking into prison to ask Zemo about Hydra. That doesn't seem like a casual information to overlook.
Sharon shrugged as she continued, "Well, depends on your move. But, I'd advice you to never get on her bad side. People speculated that she's a rogue assassin turned bounty hunter but the thing is... she has never taken any job."
Bounty hunters get their money from jobs that's advertised all over the city. So, the Deathstalker couldn't be called a Bounty Hunter when she never take jobs before. If it were up to Sharon, the Deathstalker was much suited under the same category as Ronin, the masked vigilante who tracks down and slaughters criminals during the blip.
Sharon explained that, "She just stalks around the underground scene, and leave bodies behind for people to find."
Zemo interjected, "Hence, her name." Gaining a glare from Sharon, that translates to "Do you want to tell the story or what?"
"Right." Sam nodded as he takes in the information.
After earning a silent apology from Zemo, Sharon continued, "No one knows who she works for or what her aim is but there's rumours she's been hunting down Hydra, or anyone and anything affiliated to it."
Again, the Deathstalker's obsession with Hydra had caught Bucky's attention. A rogue assassin seemingly made it her mission to hunt down Hydra?
Bucky doesn't know what to make of that. So, he kept his questions to himself. Eitherway, if she gets in their way, he'd still need to fight against her.
"Why are you telling us this again?" Sam asked as he didn't find the connection between their mission and the Deathstalker.
Sharon replied, "It's just worth to note that she might be hunting for Wilfred Nagel too." She paused as her gaze fell into Bucky's, "...since the super soldier serum had been Hydra's obsession for centuries."
The Dealthstalker technically saved his life.
So, does that mean that she was not an enemy?
Sam was struggling between containing his pain and coming up with a plausible conclusion but Y/N's action quickly give him the answer he needed.
Within seconds, she had Sam pinned against the wall as the edge of her sharp blade dug into the skin of his neck, "What is an Avenger doing with the Asset?" Her voice sounded distorted through the voice-changing mask.
"Lady, I don't know what you're talking about!" He grunted in protest.
Sam was not used to Bucky being labeled as an "asset". Sure, he knew the name of Winter Soldier or Soldat. But, Bucky was never addressed as the Asset, at least not by the people around him.
Y/N grabbed him by the collar and harshly slammed him against the metal of the cargo behind him, causing him to curse as the pain struck on the side of his abdomen.
"Are you planning to revive Hydra?" Her menancing eyes searched into his, demanding for a truthful answer.
What kind of bullshit was she talking about?
Reviving Hydra?
Why the hell would he do that?
However, before Sam could retort to her accusation, Y/N was pulled back by an arm, wrapped around her neck from behind. She knew it was the Winter Soldier from the cold metal burning into her skin. The soldier's other hand grabbed onto her wielded hand, forcefully bending her wrist until the knife fell from her grasp.
He easily lifted her up in the air as he backed away, tightening the lock of his left arm around her neck while twisting her right hand to her back with his flesh hand. The smaller let out a robotic groan through her mask as she struggled in his chokehold.
While the two wrestled in between holding one down and freeing oneself, Sharon quickly ran to Sam's side, "Are you alright?" she prompted as she examined his wounds. The male simply nodded his head, "Yeah, it's just a graze." He explained before asking, "Is that the Deathstalker chick that you've been talking about?"
Sharon followed his gaze, and eyed the woman who was still struggling in Bucky's hold before she managed to land a paticularly sharp strike right into Bucky's stomach, "Yeap, that would be her." Sharon answered.
Usually a few strikes by an elbow of a woman doesn't really hurt the super soldier but unfortunately for him, the elbows of the suit Y/N was wearing were armored with thin yet effective pad made of vibranium. Due to its ability is to absorb and dissipate shocks, it managed to push him back and simultaneously loosen his hold on her.
When his guard was down, Y/N took the opportunity to slightly twist her foot back around his and grab onto his left arm. She pushed her bottom into his hips as she bend over, pulling onto his arm as she flipped him forward.
Y/N stepped backwards, standing on guard as the soldier rolled over on the ground before finding a position to stop the inertia; one knee of the ground while the other leg paused at his foot with his back facing her.
Her hands reached to her back and pulled two knives from the holster on the belt, gripping them by the handle while the blades facing downwards. She bended her knees into stance, much like a panther ready to pounce.
But when the soldier stood on his feet and turned around, suddenly her defensive stance flatter and her breath were cut short. The battled-tensed surroundings did not matter when all she could see was the soldier's face.
He looked a bit aged from the last time she saw him but a lot younger considering it was decades ago.
How could she forget those livid-blue eyes sharpen beneath the deep frown he was wearing?
Or the softness of his pursed lips ghosting over her own?
Even if the smooth skin of his forehead were now decorated with thin lines of wrinkles, and the exhaustion in the discoloration under his eyes had overshadowed the playful glint he used to have; they could never fool her to believe that the man standing in front of her right now was not her long-lost lover.
"James?" Her voice was gentle but the voice changer behind her mask didn't quite conveyed her tone.
Suddenly, the high walls of her defences begin to crumble into mere pieces of fragments like crushed dried leaves on autumn grounds. Time suspended, almost too still, as if it was trying to give her the luxury to cherish the revelation; to revel in the moment of joy and relief.
And there wasn't any thoughts formulated in the fog of her mind besides the need to melt in his arm. Somehow the dark side of her mind managed to trick her into believing that if she didn't touch him now, then she would perish in despair.
Her feet inches forward closer and closer, and her knives were long forgone, leaving clancking sounds on the surface of the ground.
When Bucky heard his name uttered by the woman, somehow it didn't sound foreign to him. It was as if he'd heard it before.
And when he saw the wet glaze in her brown eyes as she hesitantly walk towards him, he knew then that she was not approaching with an intent to kill him; he'd dare to say it was quite the opposite.
There were so much emotions in her gaze; grief, yearning, sorrow, need, joy – that he even his ex-assassin's skill couldn't possibly decipher them all. And that had impeccably managed froze every nerves in his body until he can only stood there, paralyzed on his spot.
With each hesitant step, more tears started to swell in her eyes. Step by step she took, hoping he wasn't another fragments of hallucination that she made up to ease her needs, until she finally stood close enough to him to realize he was real.
Bucky knew he should move. Reprimand her before she could land any sneak attack that he might not expect; but he couldn't. Not when she gaze up at him with that look in her eyes.
He unexpectedly drowned himself in those waves of emotions in her eyes, not realizing her actions until her shivering hands cupped his face.
Her fingers were cold as if they were soaked in ice.
Her voice slightly cracked when she spoke, "Is that really you, James?" Even if she was looking directly into his eyes, somehow the question sounded like it directed towards herself rather than to Bucky.
It's real.
He's real.
Her eyes casted down to where her skin met his warmth. There was a slight tingle when her thumbs rubbed against the stubble of his jaw, prickling her skin perfectly just as she remembered.
"It's you. James. It's really you." She mumbled under her breath, convincing herself over and over as if her brain refused to acknowledge it while her heart does otherwise.
Bucky, on the other hand, didn't know what to do or what to say. But, he hadn't heard anyone called him by that name so affectionately since Y/N. The lover he left behind during WWII, who's grave he had been visiting every Tuesday morning ever since that particular session with Dr. Raynor.
However, something in his guts were screaming at him to reach out to this woman's plea as she cried in his presence, lost in her own world as she muttered his name again and again.
But, why?
Why does he feel the need to cradle her body in his arms, and whisper the sweetest things to calm her down?
Why?
Bucky gulped as his eyes loomed over hers, "Who are you?"
<< Part I || Part III >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: Feel free to leave feedbacks! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until then, see you in the next part 🤍
#winterarmyyfics#promise me au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x you#40s!bucky#tfatws!bucky#winter soldier!bucky#1940s!bucky
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Why Ambrosius and Ballister’s Relationship Feels So Different in the Movie (Nimona)
As someone who read Nimona countless times growing up, I am very familiar with the story and these characters. Which is why when I watched the movie, I was struck by how different Ambrosius and Ballister felt. They seemed like totally different and unfamiliar characters to me, and it didn’t have anything to do with their designs.
After rereading the original Nimona graphic novel recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that the main reason they feel like completely different characters in the movie comes down to one thing: the removal of the joust.
When I watched the movie, I was surprised by the fact that they changed the circumstances that drove these two apart. But it didn’t hit me just how much this one event shapes both of their characters and their relationship to each other until I reread the book.
The joust is CRUCIAL to their dynamic. It pervades every interaction they have with each other, they bring it up constantly, it is literally the crux of their collective storyline. We learn about it on PAGE 5 of the whole book, and their big heart-to-heart when Ballister is captured near the climax of the story is based around Ambrosius finally admitting the truth about what happened. Honestly I’d say that him finally coming to terms with what he did and apologizing for it is probably what allowed these two to finally find peace together by the end of the book.
We get something similar to it in the movie. Ambrosius still is responsible for Ballister losing his arm, but it is under WILDLY different circumstances. So I want to talk about how the joust affects them in the book, and then explain why the movie’s version of events, while similar on the surface, has a completely different effect on everything. So let’s get into it!
(All images of the book are via pictures of my own physical copy btw, so apologies if they’re not the best quality.)
(Also I want to make it clear that I don’t hate the movie nor its adaptation of these two. I do personally greatly prefer the book, but this post is not here to tear down the movie and exclaim that the book was way better. I just find it interesting how changing one event can have huge ripple effects!)
Part 1: The Graphic Novel (AKA: “My Boyfriend Shot Off My Arm Because of His Wild Ambition!”)
Like I said before, we learn about the joust very early on; Chapter 2, page 5. It is told to us first via Ballister’s perspective. Nimona asks if she can kill Ambrosius while they’re making evil plans, and Ballister says no -- if anyone is going to kill Ambrosius, it’s going to be him. We then get a flashback to the joust itself.
Ballister explains how they were friends and how the joust was the first time they had been pitted against each other. Ballister won fair and square, but in his words:
BALLISTER: “but Ambrosius hates to lose.”
BALLISTER: “He always claimed it was an accident. No one could prove otherwise.”
BALLISTER: “Turns out the Institution had no use for a one-armed hero. I took the only other viable option.”
Ambrosius used a weaponized lance and blasted Ballister’s arm off. After the incident, Ballister was rejected by the Institution, and became a villain instead of the hero he had originally set out to be.
In Chapter 3 we see Ambrosius appear for the first time, and he and Ballister have a very relaxed sort of cartoon hero-villain dynamic going on. There’s definitely real animosity between them, but they don’t hesitate to simply talk casually to each other or help each other when things go south. It’s all pretty lighthearted and lowkey.
They fight briefly, but after Nimona triggers the building they’re in to self-destruct, Ambrosius doesn’t hesitate to help Ballister escape and Ballister doesn’t hesitate to accept his help. Ambrosius even tries to reassure him that Nimona will be fine. After they make it out, with Nimona presumed dead, Ambrosius puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to go before more guards show up. They may be “arch-nemesises”, but they certainly don’t act like it.
AMBROSIUS: “Haven’t you missed our fights? We haven’t done this since you tried to clone the king’s daughter!”
BALLISTER: “Ambrosius, I really don’t have time for this.”
AMBROSIUS: “Are you trying to make me jealous?”
BALLISTER: “You’re an idiot.”
By the way, I’m not going to be doing a full breakdown of every single scene with them, don’t worry. I just think that their first interaction shows off their dynamic very well. This is presumably how they’ve been with each other since the incident, as it’s made clear both here and throughout the book that they’ve both been doing this for a while at this point. They have a very established dynamic, which is important as that is one of the big differences between the book and the movie. (I’ll get into that more later.)
Whenever these two interact throughout the book, it’s clear that they have very different opinions on the incident that drove them apart and how their relationship functions now.
Ambrosius tries to act like it was simply an accident and that it doesn’t matter. Ballister became a villain of his own volition, and now they are arch-nemesises who have to fight because that’s their job -- though he doesn’t exactly act like he hates Ballister.
Meanwhile Ballister saw it as a deep betrayal, and while he definitely still cares deeply about Ambrosius, he cannot get over the incident as easily as Ambrosius can.
Their respective feelings about what happened are shown perfectly in the scene in Chapter 7 where Ambrosius invites Ballister to meet with him in secret. Ambrosius tells him that the Institution has ordered him to kill Nimona and begs him to send her away, both so he doesn’t have to kill her and so things can go back to “normal.” Ballister then says that Ambrosius gave up normal at the joust.
AMBROSIUS: “I can’t believe you’re still hung up about that. It was a long time ago, you know.”
AMBROSIUS: “Besides, it was an ACCIDENT.”
BALLISTER: “I bet you’ve said that so many times you’ve started to actually believe it.”
Ambrosius insists it was an accident, and Ballister claims that he blasted off his arm because he couldn’t stand that Ballister was better than him. This sets Ambrosius off and they begin to argue.
AMBROSIUS: “You can’t blame me for how your life turned out! You made the choice to turn evil!”
BALLISTER: “Choice? I never had a choice! The Institution needed a villain. That lot fell to me. I never chose it.”
BALLISTER “And it could just as easily have been you, had that “accident” happened differently!”
AMBROSIUS: “Oh please! Do you really believe that?”
AMBROSIUS: “You never had it in you to be a hero! Everyone always knew that you were going to be the one to go bad!”
Ambrosius has convinced himself that Ballister chose to become evil, and that he isn’t responsible for what happened because it was an accident. We later learn that it wasn’t an accident though, which means that this really is him just making excuses so he doesn’t have to accept responsibility.
Ballister brings up the idea of Ambrosius becoming like him again after they fight, in one of if not my favorite scene between them in the whole book:
AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”
BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”
BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”
AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”
BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”
BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”
BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”
Ballister and Ambrosius are both very complicated individuals, and I think they lose a lot of their moral grayness in the movie. (Which I will get to later.)
Ambrosius is the “hero”, but it was his ambition that drove him to blast Ballister’s arm off, and he’s never accepted responsibility for it, instead trying to convince himself that Ballister turned out this way because of his own actions. But he doesn’t disagree here that the Institution would throw him out if he were to lose his own arm, which I think is very telling. He knows deep down that he is not a good person, and he is not working for good people. But he doesn’t want to admit it.
Ballister is the “villain”, but in many ways he is better than Ambrosius. He abides by his own rules of never killing unless it’s necessary, and goes out of his way throughout the book to make sure that as few people are harmed as possible. He knows that the Institution is corrupt, because he was one of the people it failed. And he works to try and bring it down.
Ambrosius cannot accept what happened, and because of that they aren’t able to get anywhere. They both know it wasn’t an accident. But because Ambrosius cannot admit it, they are stuck like this.
It’s a fascinating part of Ambrosius’ character that though he is adamant about Ballister being the one to destroy himself, he still cares about him. Much more openly than Ballister does in return, in fact. Ambrosius consistently does whatever he can to avoid having to kill him and always seems to have his wellbeing in mind. While he initially refused to kill Nimona, revolted at the idea that he should be ordered to kill “a little girl”, he eventually agrees to do so, but only under the condition that Ballister would be spared.
THE DIRECTOR: “Your motivations are quite transparent. I KNOW what the nature of your relationship was. I made it clear at the time that I disapproved. If your fixation on him has impeded your ability to do your job, then he truly has outlived his usefulness.”
THE DIRECTOR: “We’ll find you a new nemesis. Perhaps you will be more competent without Blackheart as a distraction.”
AMBROSIUS: “I won’t kill him. If you demand I kill the girl, I’ll do it - but I won’t kill him.”
Despite him and Ballister’s separation being his fault, he is the one who wishes most for things to go back to the way they were. And this is likely why he refuses to accept responsibility about the joust. If it were truly an accident, then there shouldn’t be anything preventing them from continuing to be together. By painting it as an accident, Ballister becomes the villain for refusing to move on and let things go back to the way they were, not Ambrosius.
But finally, after Nimona disappears and Ballister lets himself be captured, we get probably the most important scene between these two. Ambrosius has been demoted due to his failure to kill Nimona, and is now forced to guard Ballister’s cell. Ambrosius is at his lowest that he’s been throughout the story, disgraced and discarded by the Institution who he had always been so loyal to.
It’s notable that Ambrosius says here that they both know Ballister is not evil, since he has been paddling that idea this whole time that Ballister made the choice to turn evil. By admitting that he is not, it shows that he is both starting to turn against the Institution, and starting to be more honest about what really happened.
Naturally, after Ambrosius wonders how things ended up like this and reminisces on when they were together, Ballister once again brings up the joust. And finally...
AMBROSIUS: “I- I never wanted to hurt you. I- I didn’t- It was-”
BALLISTER: “Don’t you dare try to tell me again that it was an accident.”
AMBROSIUS: “It wasn’t.”
...he admits the truth.
Ambrosius shares his side of the story, letting both us and Ballister in on what really happened that day. It wasn’t fully his fault -- the Director had called him into her office the night before the joust and told him that he had promise, that he was her choice out of the two, but that he had to prove himself against Ballister or that opportunity would go away.
On the day of the joust, Ambrosius received a weaponized lance instead of his regular one, which he instantly noticed. He asked what the Director expected him to do with it, and was told that she expected him to win.
To Ambrosius’ credit, he had no intention of using it, as he was confident that he would win. But the weight from the weaponized lance threw his balance off, and he ending up losing. And so...
AMBROSIUS: “I wanted it, more than anything. You never wanted it as much as me. You were just BETTER, without hardly even seeming to try.”
AMBROSIUS: “I don’t even remember- but I must have-”
[...]
AMBROSIUS: “I’m sorry, Ballister. I’m so sorry.”
To be fair, Ambrosius is not entirely to blame here. I doubt he would’ve come up with this idea on his own; he only acted on it because the Director had already given him the weaponized lance, and stressed the night before that the opportunities she dangled in front of him would not be given to him if he did not win. He was manipulated.
But he still made the decision to do it. He could’ve simply not used the lance. But he chose to. It is his fault.
It’s fascinating that the version of events Ambrosius had been swearing by this entire time is the exact opposite of what really happened. He claimed that it was an accident, he didn’t choose to do it, he had no choice, and that it was Ballister’s choice to become evil that caused all of this. But in reality, Ambrosius was the only one who got a choice here. And that choice is why their relationship was destroyed.
Ballister then brings attention to something even more damning:
BALLISTER: “You’ve never said it before.”
AMBROSIUS: “What?”
BALLISTER: “You never said you were sorry.”
AMBROSIUS: “I- didn’t?”
AMBROSIUS: “Oh god.”
I feel like you could interpret this in a lot of different ways, but the way I see it, they probably didn’t see each other much right after the incident. Ambrosius was catapulted into stardom as the kingdom’s beloved knight, and Ballister became a villain. I don’t think they really interacted much until their hero-villain antics started up, so I don’t think Ambrosius really had a chance to apologize. And if he did, he didn’t think to. Regardless of why, I do think it is messed up that he never apologized, and it goes to show just how much this event destroyed the bond they used to have.
From here, there’s not too much, as Plot Stuff starts getting serious around this point. Ambrosius ends up betraying the Institution after they continuously attack Ballister to provoke Nimona, attacking the guards who are holding him. This is when Ambrosius finally chooses Ballister over the Institution, which is great for his character, but there’s not really much more than that to say about it.
He and Ballister plan together to try and save the kingdom, with Ambrosius being adamant that they have to kill Nimona while Ballister refuses to. It’s during this conversation that Ambrosius mentions that he “never did anything good [his] whole life”, which is really sad but also kind of accurate, and it goes to show how he’s finally accepted responsibility for everything he’s done and had a part in up to this point.
Eventually Ballister is able to find a way to nerf her and they split up, with Ambrosius wanting to tell him something in case they don’t see each other again, but Ballister shuts him down.
BALLISTER: “We can’t do this now. Just... just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.”
It’s easy to assume this was something romantic and it likely was, but I imagine Ambrosius could’ve also wanted to say sorry again for everything. Perhaps it would’ve been a mix of both.
Regardless, they split up and climax stuff happens: Ambrosius attempts to kill Nimona but gets seriously injured, Ballister tries to reason with Nimona, etc. etc. Eventually at the very end, we see that these two have made peace and are together again, living on after everything. And that’s these two in the book!
Whew. I know that was a lot, but don’t worry. I won’t be going into as much detail about the movie’s version of events, as Ambrosius and Ballister have a much more cut-and-dry dynamic there than in the book. Their relationship in the original is very complex, so I wanted to make sure I covered all of those little nuances.
The joust is what defines their relationship and a lot of their respective characters; it is unimaginably important. Ballister became a villain because he lost his arm and was cast aside by the Institution. Ambrosius became the kingdom’s hero because he took Ballister out of the picture. They are unable to be around each other normally for very long because of their divided views of what happened. It is only after Ambrosius finally faces the truth that they are able to find peace together once more.
All of this is to say that it’s extremely hard to imagine what their relationship would be like in the graphic novel had the joust not happened the way it did. Which brings us to...
Part 2: The Movie (AKA: “My Boyfriend Sliced Off My Arm Because I Literally Killed Someone!”)
Before we start, I want to again stress that I am not trying to argue that any changes made here are inherently inferior. I am merely pointing out the differences between the book and the movie that contribute to the overall dissonance I and many others have felt when it comes to these two across versions.
Right off the bat, we are greeted with the movie’s version of Ambrosius and Ballister’s backstory. Like was implied in the book, they appear to be together (or something along those lines) which is great to actually see. But it quickly becomes clear that the events here are far different.
Instead of a joust, it is a knighting ceremony. There is no competition between Ballister and Ambrosius here. Ambrosius is knighted and cheered for, and then it is Ballister’s turn. He is knighted and everyone is silent before breaking into cheers as well. And then...
...his sword suddenly turns into a cannon and kills the queen. And in retaliation...
...Ambrosius chops his arm off.
Now if you’ve listened to ANYTHING I’ve said so far, this should immediately set off alarm bells. Because this one little difference changes everything about these two’s dynamic.
In the book, Ambrosius shot off Ballister’s arm in order to win his position. It was an entirely selfish and evil action spurred on only by his uncontrollable want to be the winner.
But here, Ambrosius is debatably justified in his response. Sure, he didn’t have to be as drastic as slicing his whole arm off (and I know there’s symbolism there with how the kingdom has taught people to get rid of problems), but Ballister -- to him -- literally just shot the queen. The queen who Ambrosius has sworn to protect. It is completely reasonable for him to respond in this way. And that’s a huge difference.
By changing this, we already have a completely different situation. Ambrosius here didn’t particularly want to cut Ballister’s arm off, it was a reflex, a response to a sudden danger. (Not saying he wanted to in the book, but there he made the deliberate decision to do so. In the movie it seems much more like an actual accident -- an overreaction that he immediately regrets and, as we’ll see, continues to regret.) And there was justification for it. There was no justification for it in the book.
Instead of an Ambrosius whose ambition caused him to commit an evil act of betrayal against the man he was closest to, we now have an Ambrosius who, in the heat of the moment, overreacted like he was trained to after Ballister seemingly betrayed him. We’ll see over the course of the movie how this affects things, but that’s not the only major change here.
As we figure out shortly afterward, the movie makes a huge change when it comes to how the story functions, and that’s the timeline of events. In the book, the joust and the subsequent fallout between Ballister and Ambrosius happened years ago. We don’t know how long, but it’s clearly been a while. Enough time has passed where they are fully settled into their roles as hero and villain, and they look significantly younger in the flashbacks as well.
Like previously stated, book Ballister has been a villain for a while. He is completely settled into this role and has been making schemes and having fights of the week with Ambrosius for a considerable time. He knows what he’s doing. He has his own way of doing things, and when Nimona inserts herself into his life much of their early dynamic is him teaching her how he does things. In the book, Ballister is the teacher, Nimona is the student.
But in the movie, this incident just happened. It's unclear how exactly long it's been, but judging from Ballister's arm being created and his wounds healing it's probably been around a month.
Regardless of exactly how long it's been, the point is that these events are still very fresh. Ballister seemingly has just been laying low, not villain-ing it up, and he and Ambrosius haven't seen each other since the knighting ceremony. This changes literally everything about Ballister’s character. This post is specifically about Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic and not a Ballister character analysis so I’ll try to keep it brief, but movie Ballister seriously could not be more different from the book.
Compare this to movie Ballister, who I’m pretty sure never knows what he’s doing ever, at any point. He was training to be a knight. He has seemingly never once questioned the Institution. Now he has suddenly lost his arm and been thrust out into the unknown of being treated as a villain, and he has no idea how to handle it. Then Nimona shows up, tells him “hey, the Institution sucks”, and eventually he ends up believing so as well. In the movie, Nimona is the teacher, Ballister is the student.
Book Ballister actively resents the Institution and has no doubts that what they did to him is wrong. He has been plotting their downfall for a while. Nimona, on the other hand, seems to be out of the loop when it comes to the Institution and seemingly only starts hating them after she finds out how they threw Ballister out. Again, I’d just like to stress how completely and totally opposite their dynamic in the movie is compared to this.
There’s also Ballister being a scientist and being much more jaded in the book, but that’s not really important for the purposes of this post. So alas, I shall move on.
This different timeframe greatly impacts Ambrosius and Ballister’s dynamic, and obviously it would. There is a huge difference between a falling-out that happened years ago and you’re both still bitter about, and a falling-out that happened very recently. This, along with the different course of events resulting in said falling-out, is what causes their dynamic to feel so alien.
Also while talking about their early interactions in the movie, I’d just like to point out that while here Nimona is the one to assume Ambrosius is Ballister’s arch-nemesis and call him such, which Ballister doesn’t agree with, they were actually arch-nemeses in the book. Just something I noticed.
Something else I find interesting is later on, Ballister seems to be almost in disbelief about Ambrosius cutting off his arm and makes excuses for him.
BALLISTER: “He didn’t cut off my arm. He disarmed a weapon.”
BALLISTER: “It’s how we were trained.”
(Side note, but I wonder if book Ballister ever felt this way right after the joust? Did he try to convince himself it was an accident too, once upon a time? Did he try to make excuses?)
And to be fair, he is sort of right. Like I said before, Ambrosius’ reaction to Ballister seemingly killing the queen was debatably justified. While we’re obviously supposed to side with Nimona here and agree that Ballister should be more upset at Ambrosius for what he did, the movie definitely paints Ambrosius as more sympathetic overall. We see him freaking out internally about cutting off Ballister’s arm, and there is a lot of emphasis placed on how he and the others were trained by the Institution, inviting the audience to place more of the blame on the system that taught Ambrosius to act this way rather than him as a person.
And again, I’m not saying this is a bad thing! I love a good "taking down a corrupt system” story, and with the different circumstances of the movie it definitely makes more sense to play it this way. But in comparison to the book, Ambrosius is much easier to sympathize with. His character is changed from a very morally gray person who did something horrible and won’t admit it, to a pretty okay person who did something horrible and wholly accepts and bemoans that fact. He’s almost the opposite of what he was in the book.
So we have an Ambrosius who accepts what he did to Ballister and feels awful about it, and a Ballister who has no idea what he’s doing and is basically just being dragged around by Nimona. With both of them being basically the complete opposite of how they were in the book, is it any wonder that their relationship with each other feels so different when they themselves are so different?
Also, once again, the circumstances are very different. There is no Queen murder plot in the book, nor is their any attempt to clear Ballister’s name. A significantly different setting makes a difference too.
I don’t see a need to go into further detail about specific scenes in the movie as I think I’ve made my point clear. But going back to the movie’s lack of Ambrosius and Ballister’s already established hero-villain dynamic, I think these differences are made quite apparent just contrasting how they talk to each other. I mean, just compare these two scenes:
AMBROSIUS: “What? You’re gonna kill me now too?”
BALLISTER: “You believe that?”
BALLISTER: “Then you never knew me at all.”
AMBROSIUS: “uugghh”
BALLISTER: “What if I cut off your arm right now?”
BALLISTER: “Then you’d see how fast the Institution would cast you aside. Just like they did me.”
AMBROSIUS: “You wouldn’t.”
BALLISTER: “No, I wouldn’t.”
BALLISTER: “And I’m the villain.”
BALLISTER: “What do you suppose that says about you?”
Their relationship in the movie is much softer and healthier than it was in the book. Their dialogue in the movie tends to lean much more towards tried-and-true “friendship betrayal” stuff; the wound of Ballister’s “betrayal” may be fresher, but it’s clear both of them love each other far more than they resent each other. In the book, it is the opposite. The movie could NEVER have the bar fight scene. It’s too ugly and bitter to fit these softer versions of Ambrosius and Ballister.
Part 3: Conclusion
So, that was a lot. I hope it’s a little clearer now how big the differences are between these two’s dynamic in the book and the movie! Especially if you’re someone who is only familiar with one or the other. While I prefer the book due to me tending to prefer more complex and messy relationship dynamics, I totally understand the appeal of the more loving and healthy relationship Ambrosius and Ballister have in the movie.
To summarize, here are some of the main takeaways:
Ambrosius causing Ballister to lose his arm is completely unjustified in the book and happens due to Ambrosius’ wild ambition, while in the movie it is a debatably justified reflexive action in response to an active threat.
Ambrosius overall is portrayed as much more sympathetic in the movie, with the system itself being more to blame for what happened.
In the book, the main thing keeping them apart was Ambrosius’ refusal to take responsibility and admit what he did. In the movie, it’s a misunderstanding about Ballister seemingly turning evil.
In the book, Ambrosius and Ballister have a very established hero-villain dynamic with the joust having happened years ago. In the movie the “betrayal” is still very fresh, which leads to very different interactions between the two.
And that’s about it! Thank you for reading this very long post. And if you haven’t read the original graphic novel or watched the movie, go do that!!! Much love to ND Stevenson and the rest of the people who made this story come to life.
Let me know your thoughts in the tags or the replies! Which version do you prefer? Are there any other factors you feel have a significant role in why their relationship feels so different? Or do you think I’m totally wrong about this and they feel basically the same to you?
Either way, thanks again for reading and goodbye!
#nimona#ballister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#analysis#meta#ballister x ambrosius#ambrosius x ballister#nimona movie#nimona graphic novel#nimona analysis#ballister blackheart
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cold nights // twenty-one
summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 4.2k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: oh- you guys wanted them to be happy and in love in peace?? my bad. anyway, good a time as any to wish you guys a happy valentines day! lol
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
"Where are ya takin' those?" Lennox asks you as you're quickly scanning through your piles of books, pulling out one or two at a time and holding onto them.
"I will bring them to Coryo and Sejanus." You smile to yourself, standing up straight as you finish picking out most of your favourites.
"Coryo." Lennox scrunches his nose up. "Why bother? They can't read that many books in a week. Especially when he'll hardly get his hands off you long enough to do literally anything else."
"Oh, Lennox hush. That is not true." You shake your head pointedly, cheeks burning red.
"It is true."
You had kind of explained to Lennox what happened, that Coryo explained, apologized, and that you were wrong about him. Your mother was right, of course, but Lennox still wasn't buying any of it. Although, he wouldn't deny that you seemed happier.
"Ma!" You call out, coming out of your bedroom with the stack of books in your arms. Trying to talk to Lennox about this would never end in him actually listening to you.
"Just out back, honey!"
You follow her voice out onto the back porch. "Ma, do you know if there's a limit of things you can take on the train?"
She looks up at the question, laughing at the stack of books you have steadied under your chin.
"It's not a passenger train, honey. I don't know." She chuckles. "You want to give him all of those? Won't you miss them?"
"Well..." You think about it, placing them down on the ground to rest your arms for a moment. "I don't know when I'll see him again, and books are expensive to post. Besides, I know they'll be in safe hands, and if I want to read them again I can take them from the library."
Your mom smiles sadly at you. "I suppose that's true."
"Yes." You grin, crouching down to pick the books up again carefully. "I shall go drop these off."
"When will you be back?" She asks, just as you're about to walk back inside.
"Uh, I'm uncertain, but I shouldn't be long! We don't have any plans."
"Maybe you should take your brother with you, he can carry those." She suggests and you sigh.
"No, Ma. He's mean." You pout.
"He only wants to keep you safe. Take him with you, please. He'll be driven mad here waiting for you to get back." She insists and you groan, dropping your head back. "I won't ask again, I promise."
"Okay, Ma." You relent, stepping back into the house and letting the door swing shut behind you. "Len! Ma says you're coming with me!"
"So... how do you know where they are staying?" Lennox asks you, half the books in his arms as you practically skip ahead of him.
"Coryo showed me the other day."
"Oh, he did. Of course he did." You can practically see him rolling his eyes behind your back. "Have you ever considered that he could just be using you? I mean-"
"Lennox, that's not a rational thought process. I have nothing that he would want, he already won his prize." You interrupt. "He just came here to spend time with me, we talked about that when I was in the Capitol."
"I can think of something he wants..."
"Lennox!" You turn on your heel, pointing a finger in his face so fast he almost stumbles as he stops. "That is enough. You have so little trust in me!"
"It's not like we haven't been down this road before!" He argues, and you quickly look around as he raises his voice. The path is deserted this time of day.
"And you don't think me capable of learning?"
"Clearly not! Him and Cole are practically the same person!"
"Don't you say that- I didn't like Cole and you know it." You narrow your eyes at him. "Coryo is different. He wouldn't hurt me."
"You do realize that those are like, the famous last words that every teenage girl ever has said and regretted it, right?"
"Do you just not want me to be happy?" You ask bitterly. That wasn't true and you knew it, but you were upset and you knew it would get your point across. He was being cruel.
"The opposite, actually! I just want you to think realistically about fallin' into the open arms of your 'knight in shining armour' who you've literally had nightmares about for weeks on end."
"I am not a child! I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions." You spit. "He's not using me. He loves me, and I love him."
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll say that until-"
"Lennox you are such a.. boy!" You groan. "If you must know, if you must insist that I am so stupid, no, I have not slept with him. Is that what you needed so desperately to hear?"
"Gross." He mumbles, shaking his head with disgust. "I don't care what you do with your alone time, actually I'd really rather not know! All I'm saying is you need to be more careful."
"I'm not going to fight with you. You can trust my decisions or not." You grumble, turning back around to keep walking. He follows behind you silently, neither of you saying another word the whole walk there.
You knock on the door, taking a step back while you wait for it to open. You can hear your brother breathing behind you and it's driving you up the wall. You would drop off the books and send him home- maybe you would stay for a while, go for a walk, something.
The door creaks open and you smile when you see Sejanus. "Y/N!" He grins, opening the door wider for you to come in. "Coryo! Your girlfriend is here!" You blush at the term as you walk in past him.
You hadn't discussed any kind of title to what you had, the looming ache of him leaving again so soon holding you back from wanting to mention it. You assumed he didn't want to discuss it either, both of you silently agreeing just to enjoy the time you still had together.
"Y/N/N." Coryo grins, eyes lighting up as he enters the room.
"Hi." You smile, ignoring your brother pretending to gag behind you.
"What brings you?" Coryo asks. "I didn't expect to see you today, I was thinking of coming to see you myself."
"Yes, well, I went through my books and brought some over that I would like you to take." You look back over your shoulder as Lennox is placing the large pile of books on the dining table.
Coryo hums as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "That's a lot of books." He chuckles.
"You don't have to rush through them, keep them as long as you'd like." You assure him. "I just thought they were some you may enjoy."
"I'm sure I'll love them." He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you."
You turn in his arms to look up at him, ticking your head slightly when you hear Sejanus speak quietly. Clearly, not to either of you. "Hey, I just want to show you something. Come outside with me?" And then the door is shut, and you and Coryo are left alone.
"What's he showing him?" You ask, and Coryo watches through the window as his friend and your brother circle around to the side of the house.
"I am not sure." He answers. Immediately, he's thinking of the note Sejanus had scribbled out for himself. It included your brother's name alongside the dates and times, and those dates were creeping up quickly, the seventeenth being in three days- if he had today's date correct.
"Coryo?"
"Hm?" He looks down at you again. "You were thinkin' for a minute there. What's wrong?"
You were always so concerned. All he had done was take a moment to think, and you seemed genuinely worried. Maybe there was something in his face that showcased his confusion. "Nothing, love." He assures you, but you don't seem inclined to believe it. "Okay, uh, just... Come with me." He grabs your hand, watching out the window to make sure they aren't coming back yet as he leads you to his room.
You step into the small space and smile. He wasn't here for long, but the room already had little touches of him. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the walls but the bedside table had the copy of Romeo and Juliet he had got for you, a folded-up note, and a comb for his hair he had yet to put back in his bag despite him not needing it anymore.
You turn to face him after he shuts the door, smiling. He almost looked normal here, now. Like he was getting used to being here with you, living your life. It certainly wasn't like what he left behind in the Capitol, but to you it was special.
"Y/N, I have something to tell you." Coryo says, serious with a lowered voice. He didn't want anyone to hear it, even though you were still likely alone in the home.
"Okay." You reply, feeling your brow crease as you nod at him. His tone makes you nervous- your heart skips a beat in your chest. For a moment, you feel trapped. Tell him what you need. He won't mind.
"Can you... can you move away from the door, please?" You ask quietly before he has the chance to speak again.
He nods, not wasting a second before passing you and you turn with him, now with the door to your own back. "Is that better? You okay?" He asks and you nod.
"Fine just fine." You smile, trying to be reassuring. "What were you going to tell me?"
"Right, so..." You watch as he runs a hand over his head, still in the habit of pushing back his hair. "I was in Sejanus's room the other day, and I found this note. It had two dates and places on it, and then your brother's name and that was it."
"Oh." That's the only thing you can think of to say. "Well... do you remember the places? Maybe he was just trying to remember Len's name?"
"I don't know, I was hoping you'd know more." Coryo sighs, reaching for the bedside drawer. He had written down what he remembered from the dates and times, because he did want to ask you about it. "But he's been leaving and coming back at odd hours, he won't tell me what he's doing. Is he with Lucy Gray?"
"I don't think so." You frown, shaking your head. "But they have been getting close."
"But that doesn't really feel relevant to the note, or your brother."
"No... It certainly doesn't seem that way."
"Here, so... I wrote it down. Uh... The Hob, August seventeenth at ten pm, and broken fence August eighteenth at four am." He reads off what he remembered enough from the note to write down.
You tilt your head.
"Does that mean anything to you?"
"Well, on the seventeenth The Covey is performing at the Hob, so maybe he planned on going to that." You explain. "But broken fence... there's so many of those around here I couldn't tell you. Although, four am is an incredibly odd time to be meeting anyone."
"That's three hours before our train leaves."
"Oh." You shake your head slightly. "That's very weird."
"I know." Coryo sighs. "He won't tell me either, I've asked if he has any plans that night and he said no."
"Well... We should go." You offer. "Tell him that we're going to the meadow that night, and we'll just go after him. See who he's with."
Coryo raises his eyebrows at you. "I didn't take you for the nosy type."
"Well, I'm a big sister at heart and if it possibly involves Lennox I have to know." You argue. "It could be dangerous. He's always had a few friends I didn't love."
"Are you okay to go back there? I can go without you." He offers.
"I'll be fine." You insist. It's more so out of necessity, you have no choice but to be fine. You have to know- you have to make sure your brother and friend are safe.
"Are you sure about this?" Coryo asks, stopping you outside the entrance to the Hob. "If you want to go home I can take you, I just want you to feel safe."
"I know." You give him a small, reassuring smile as you squeeze his hand. "If I need to leave I'll tell you. I promise."
He nods, taking one last look at you to make sure you still seem okay before he pushes the door open and you both head in.
The building is buzzing- as it usually is when The Covey performs. You smile at the music, letting Coryo pull you close to the side wall as he scans the crowded room for his friend.
"Do you see him?" You ask, and he somehow hears you over the music and shakes his head.
You frown, looking around as well. No sign of Sejanus, no sign of Lennox. Lennox isn't even old enough to be here, but he wasn't at home when you left- and it's not exactly hard to sneak in.
"There," Coryo says, nodding in the direction of the opposite side of the room. You follow his eyes, and spot Sejanus talking to someone you recognize. "Who's he with?"
"Spruce." You explain. "His sister is scheduled to be executed tomorrow afternoon." You add, leaning closer so no one else will hear.
You watch as they head toward the back hall, the same one you ran down just a couple of weeks ago. "Should we go after them?" You ask when Coryo doesn't reply and he nods, watching them as he pulls you down the outside wall toward them.
You make it back to the hall without Lucy Gray spotting you, as far as you can tell. Standing outside the door, you hear shouting. You watch Coryo as he clenches his jaw, shaking his head.
"Wait out here." He tells you, dropping your hand.
"No- I, I should come." You shake your head and he grabs your cheeks, lifting your head to look into your eyes.
"I don't know what they're fighting about but it doesn't sound good. Wait out here." He's stern as he gently brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. "Listen to Lucy Gray, just watch the door. Okay, love?"
"Okay." You agree quietly, slightly nodding.
He kisses your forehead before letting you go, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.
You chew your nails as you wait with your ear to the door, trying to decipher who is inside with them. It's hard to tell with all the shouting going on, but you hadn't heard Lennox.
"Y/N." You hear your name, quickly jumping back from the door and turning to face the voice. "What are you doin' here?"
You chew your cheek, trying to avoid Cole's gaze. "Just waitin' for Lucy Gray." You lie, looking down.
"Ah." He hums, nodding slightly as he steps closer to you. "Where's your purebred Capitol attack dog?"
"What are you doing here, Cole?" You ask, ignoring his question.
"We got leave passes for the weekend." He answers. "Hoff said something about 'boosting morale'."
"That's nice." You smile nervously. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so..."
"You aren't." He smirks, tilting his head as he looks down at you. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know that, right?"
"I know." You say softly.
"We're friends, aren't we?"
"Cole..." You sigh, looking down again. "We talked about this I just... We're too different. I'm sorry."
"Oh, because you have so much more in common with that prick- right?" He laughs sarcastically. "He's Capitol! He'll never know you like I do. Honestly, I'm offended that you'd choose him over me."
"I'm not choosing him over you." You frown. "I already knew we wouldn't work before I ever met him. This is very, very different. I'm sorry."
"You are? Oh, I'm glad to hear that." He nods and you eye him suspiciously. "Maybe then after he leaves, you'll give me another chance. He's taking the next train, tomorrow morning, right?"
"I can't do that, Cole." You shake your head.
"That's an awful shame." The evil smile on his face doesn't fade. "I'll have no choice but to report your father."
Your heart drops. "My Pa hasn't done anything."
He sucks in through his teeth. "Well, suspicion is enough to charge, and I don't know... I get a bit of an off feeling from him. It's actually my duty to report any suspicions we have, so honestly I've been protecting you, and I'd like to keep doing that, you know?"
You finally picked up on what he was saying, and immediately could taste the bitterness of fear on your tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to linger in the air.
"So? Do we have a date?"
"Sure." You mutter through gritted teeth.
"Sweet, thanks for finally coming to your senses, bug." Cole smiles, patting your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!" He calls back as he walks away.
You don't even care what's going on inside, you can't be alone in this dark hallway anymore.
You pull the door open and rush in, but you're quickly stopped by Coryo's arm as he takes a few steps back, pushing you behind him. "What- what's-"
"She can't be in here!" Spruce spits at Coryo as you look past him, gasping at the sight of several guns on the table and the one in his arms.
"Listen, she's not involved." Sejanus promises.
"Her brother is gonna help us, it's cool. She won't tell." You look at Billy Taupe when he speaks, eyes wide.
"No- this is crazy." Mayfair shakes her head. "She's not coming with us. We're not bringing her or Lucy Gray. I'm leaving."
"No, they aren't coming. I just said I'd ask. Now she knows, so she probably should." Billy Taupe replies and your eyes flick between the couple. You had no idea what was going on, where he wanted you to go, and what this had to do with Sejanus or your brother.
"No! My daddy will have you all strung up for this." She throws her hands up and starts to walk toward the back door. Your heart is pounding in your chest as Coryo reaches for one of the guns.
"Don't!" You cry out, forcing yourself in front of him just as he aims the gun at her. At you.
"Y/N, you gotta move right now." He says quickly, and you hear her footsteps stop behind you.
You can only look at his eyes as they flit between anger, instinct, and fear.
"Coryo." You say, voice cracking and it's only then that you feel the tears dampening your cheeks.
The barrel of the gun is under an inch from your chest, and you can see his hands shaking as he holds the heavy weapon in his hands. He won't shoot you- he won't.
The world around you seems to blur as your focus narrows on the overwhelming sense of fear gripping you tightly. Right now, if someone asked where you were, you wouldn't know. You just as easily could have been standing in the arena.
He doesn't dare move as he stares at you, eyes wide. He doesn't want to hurt you, but that's why he has to do this. He can't let whoever that girl was have you killed. Still, you stand in front of him. Shaking, but not moving. This was the girl he knew from the games who offered a rose to Coral who in the moments before was threatening her. The girl who so thoroughly hated the idea of bringing harm to others that her own mind blocked it out completely and replaced the story with something else. This was the girl who was willing to give up her life just to be able to give the other tributes an honourable burial that she knew they wouldn't otherwise receive.
The girl who saw him kill another boy and despite all of that, still had it in her heart to forgive him.
You don't even hear Mayfair laugh and begin to walk away again, you only hear the gunshot that follows. You jump, immediately looking down to assess the damage. Coryo wasn't pointing the gun at you anymore, he had dropped his arms in defeat- and you had mistaken the loud noise for an impact you were expecting.
He didn't shoot you.
"What did you do?" You turn as Billy Taupe screams, eyes widening as you see Mayfair bleeding out on the floor.
"Oh god- oh god..." You mumble, stepping back until you bump into Coryo. He drops the gun back onto the table, pulling you into his arms.
"Don't look, don't look..." He tells you, turning you and pressing your head to his chest so you can't see anymore even if you wanted to.
You can't even make out what Spruce and Billy Taupe are yelling at each other over the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. Until the second gunshot.
You must be sobbing now, clinging onto the front of Coryo's shirt so tight your knuckles are burning. "You're okay, it's okay." He tells you. You don't know what's going on- you don't want to.
Coryo stares between Spruce and the body of Billy Taupe now slumped down next to Mayfair. He needs to get you out of here, now, but he doesn't know how. This has to be handled first.
He's letting you go only to grab your cheeks and get you to look at him. "Go back outside, you have to go back outside, I will handle this."
You can't even speak- can't even move. You try and shake your head. You couldn't leave him, not right now. You feel like you'd die the moment he ceased touching you.
The door slides open again, followed by an angry voice you know too well. "What the fuck?" Cole must have been watching you. He must have heard.
"No..." You cry, shaking your head. If Cole saw this you were absolutely all screwed.
"What the fuck did you do?" Cole shouts again. "Nobody fucking move! You're all-"
Another gunshot. Silence.
"Oh no, no, no..." You try and look behind Coryo but he doesn't let you, holding your head firmly into his chest again.
"It's okay. Don't look." He says again, staring at Sejanus who looks like he's panicking just as much as you are now.
"Why'd you tell them where we were? Now you've gone and screwed us all over! I just shot a peacekeeper!"
"He didn't tell anyone." Coryo defends him. "We followed him, Cole followed us."
"Fuck." Spruce sighs, throwing the gun onto the pile of others still laid across the table. "We gotta bump this up. We have to get Lil now, go tell Lennox to get the stuff and hide it for us like we said."
"Get rid of the guns and pretend this never happened."Coryo hisses. "And leave the kid out of this. It's too late for whatever plan you had now- we don't know where he is."
You can't even hear a single thing going on anymore. You're actually sure you might faint.
When you go from shaking to completely still in Coryo's arms, he knows you have. "Shit..." He mumbles, trying to steady you as your knees give out. He quickly readjusts so he can lift you with an arm under your knees and the other under your back.
"I gotta get her out of here and you have to move quick. Get rid of the guns. Now." He instructs, and surprisingly, Spruce listens. He throws the weapons into a bag and steps over the two bodies by the door before leaving.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Sejanus cries, gripping onto his hair and breathing heavily. "No one was supposed to get hurt!"
"Sejanus, for once just shut up!" He grabs his attention from where his friend is staring at the dead couple, clearly losing his mind. Coryo doesn't have time for this- an unconscious girl in his arms and his friend looking like he's about to be in the same state in a matter of moments.
"It's all my fault..."
"All of this is your fault!" Coryo agrees, looking around at the mess of the room. "It's only gonna get worse if you don't pull yourself together."
"Oh, god..."
"If you breathe a word now, all three of us are finished. Just like in the arena. We came here to see her. If we go down, she goes with us." He holds you tighter to his chest as your hair falls over the curve of his arm, your head limp against his skin. "So now we have to go back to the house, gather all our shit, and act like nothing is wrong. We have to board the train tomorrow like nothing is wrong. Do you understand?"
"I- I don't know." Sejanus sniffs.
"Hey." Coryo says, taking a few steps closer. "Look at me. You have to pull it together. I know you wanted to go with them but now they aren't going. We've got to stick together. You won't get in trouble. I won't let anything happen to you, but you have to listen to me." It was obvious that it didn't matter that none of you pulled the trigger- being in the room was enough; especially when a peacekeeper had been murdered. If you were caught, you'd all be executed. "We're brothers, yeah? Brothers. Whatever you've done, I swear I will keep you safe."
"Brothers. Yeah." Sejanus mutters, still obviously in shock.
"Those guns were the only loose ends besides the four of us, so we're gonna be okay as long as we leave tomorrow." He breathes. "Okay? Not a word."
"O-Okay." Sejanus nods slightly, trying to keep his focus on the boy in front of him rather than their unconscious friend in his arms.
Coryo tried to give him a reassuring smile, but inside he was panicking too. They could escape it all on the train tomorrow, but now came the problem of what to do with you.
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