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fckwritersblock · 3 years

Text

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

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Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

#transformers imagine #transformers #Captain William lennox #william lennox #Lennox x reader #sam witwicky #will lennox x reader #transformers x reader #black!reader #Sam witwicky x reader #optimus prime

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

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pregnant-piggy · 3 years

Text

The Crow’s Nest

The Crows x reader

words: 12.1k

warnings: underage drinking, fire, character death, guns

A/N: am I slowly indoctrinating you with my pirate obsession? perhaps... ;) this is based on a dream I had while reading the first book and it wouldn’t leave me until I had written it. Let me know what you think of it! <3

translations (part real languages, part fictional):

Teufel -- devil

Fortell meg -- tell me

Jer elsker pe -- I love you

Faen -- fuck, damn

Goede morgen -- good morning

The grey waves hit against the hull of The Teufel, rocking the ship back and forth in the restless water. The howling wind creeped around every corner, finding even the warmest spots to cool the air and sparing no one from its breeze. The old sails fluttered in the force of the wind and loud slaps could be heard whenever the canvas hit against the mast. Little raindrops were falling from the sky, creating a layer of damp on everything in the open.

Thunder sounded far away in the sky, back in the open sea, but The Teufel was going the other way. Kerch was approaching steadily and if the winds didn’t turn suddenly, the ship would reach land before the sun had fully set.

The coastline of Ketterdam, the city The Teufel would arrive at, was peculiar with its high buildings and built-up streets. The lights of the city lit up the sky like an orange halo in the darkening heavens.

You leaned with two arms on the railing of the ship, watching the city approach over the water. Behind you the strongest members of the crew were working on the sails, steering the schooner into the right direction. You listened to the shouts and orders with half an ear, imagining what the city of Ketterdam would be like and where you would go after the ship had moored. Unlike many of the older ones in the crew you had never been to Kerch before. In the last two years The Teufel hadn’t gotten close to the island, finding enough profit near the coasts of Novyi Zem. Three weeks ago, however, the captain had ordered to turn the sails and head South, much to your delight.

Your entire life you had heard stories about Kerch. When you were very little, you had asked your grandmother over and over again to tell you about her trips to Ketterdam. Though you had been too young to understand most of what her stories meant, you had adored how your grandma was able to take you to a different world with her words only. It was a gift that you most admired and one that she had passed on to you.

Your parents passed away in a futile attempt to protect the town against the brutality of the land’s council. You had been just seven years old and the surviving neighbours hadn’t known what to do with you, so you had been sent to a boarding school in the countryside. Far away from the danger of the city they’d said, but you had known it was just to get rid of you. You had grown up in a strict environment, in a house full of stern teachers and meek children. But even there you hadn’t forgotten about your grandmother’s stories. Although the students thought you were odd, they would all gather around you in the sleeping hall after midnight when the teachers were to bed and you would tell them a story the same way your grandma had told them to you.

The older you had gotten the more trouble you’d seemed to cause. Obeying the rules had soon proven not to be something for you, at least not when you thought the rules were useless. With every year you’d grown older, you had found more ways to plant mischief. The punishments had gotten harder every time but you had refused to bend to their rules. Eventually they had been the one to give up and they had kicked you out of the school. At the age of fourteen you had been a homeless orphan only good for trouble.

For weeks you had travelled on your own and you had ended up at the harbour, where you had stumbled upon The Teufel. At first the captain had refused to take you on; he had no use for a child. It had been your talent to speak Kerch, Ravkan and a little bit of Fjerdan that had gotten you on board the ship that would become your new home.

For the past two years you had travelled along with the crew, learning to live on the ocean. Not a moment you had regretted your decision. The crew had accepted you as part of their family. The captain, Nerseh, had taken you on as his own daughter, learning you the tricks of maintaining a crew. Mayranoush, the quartermaster, was a strict woman who had at first scared you because she had seemed to be so much like your teachers at the boarding school. After a while you had gotten used to her, however, and it was from her that you had learnt how to shoot and how to read people’s faces like an open book. From the sailing master you learned how to read maps and the gunners had tried to teach you how to aim, but you had never mastered that skill. Stefan had taught you how to fight with a sword, Marina taught you the ropes and Hai learned you basic first aid and other cures that were necessary in combat.

In two years you had learned enough to make yourself useful on the ship and you had grown from just their translator to a valuable member of the crew. The Teufel was your home and you could not think of a better place for you.

“Are you excited?” Stefan stood next to you and followed your gaze to the skyline of Ketterdam.

You tore your eyes from the city and looked at the big blond man with his bright blue eyes. When you first stepped on the ship he was the first one of the crew to approach you and you had been surprised by the Fjerdan’s conviviality. Your teachers had always taught you that the people from Fjerda were cold and distant. But ten minutes spent in Stefan’s company proved all of that wrong. He had guided you in your first weeks and now he was your best friend, and your first friend.

“I am,” you nodded. “I’ve been dreaming about this place since I was a toddler. I can’t wait to see what it's like.”

Stefan smiled at you and leaned down on the railing next to you, his arm against yours. A warm feeling washed over you and sparkles shot through your upper body. The wind had died down to a light breeze and your hair wavered behind your neck as the wind blew directly into your face. A scent of smoke, burned sugar and oil filled your nose and you closed your eyes, taking in the smell and registering the different scents. This was the essence that your grandmother had talked about and now you were experiencing it yourself.

When you opened your eyes you noticed that Stefan was watching you intently. You smiled and raised one arm from the railing so you could turn to him. He wanted to say something to you, you could see it in his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he stammered, his pale cheeks blossoming red immediately.

“Fortell meg, Fjerdan,” you ordered Stefan to tell you and, though you didn’t think it was possible, his cheeks got even redder.

The big, blushing man looked away from you and cleared his throat. His gaze was pointed at his feet and then he turned it to the horizon. The wind was playing with the blond curls of his hair, that looked golden in the light of the setting sun. He cleared his throat again and then he mumbled something.

“I can’t hear you, doofus,” you laughed and nudged your shoulder against Stefan’s arm. “A little louder, please.”

Stefan sighed and turned his head to look at you. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on your upper arm. The feeling of his warm hand on your bare arm made your heart flutter. Your lips parted and you sucked in a little breath.

“Jer elsker pe,” Stefan whispered. I love you.

Your heart stopped. The pulse in your chest disappeared for a moment and when your heart beat again, it did twice as hard. Stefan was no Heartrender but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat too.

“Stefan, I—” you started, taking Stefan’s other hand in yours.

However before you could go on, Captain Nerseh appeared from his hut and started shouting over the main deck. “Stefan! I need you up front!” Nerseh said and he walked to the forecastle deck, ordering the rest of the crew on his way. Stefan was still standing in front of you, your hands holding his but his face turned to the captain. This one turned around. “Now, please!”

The Fjerdan let go of you and hurried away, leaving you on your own. You held onto the railing for support as you felt your weight shift to your legs. All the excitement you had felt just mere minutes ago had now completely vanished and you looked around panicky. Not even a lifetime on sea could have prepared you for that.

-=-=-

The Jolly Roger was changed for a neutral flag with the colours of Novyi Zem and The Teufel navigated into the Fifth Harbour of Ketterdam. Once the anchor had been lowered and the ship lay still, a small party was sent out to get stock while the others were free to go wherever they wanted.

Stefan was sent with the quartermaster, Mayranoush, and Hai for food and ammunition and he was off the schooner before you could follow him. You watched him leave the Harbour, standing on the main deck. His blonde hair shone in the last rays of sunshine and he was visible for a long time, until his figure disappeared in the bigger crowd. Gone before you could talk to him.

“I want y'all back at twelve bells,” Captain Nerseh said and he waved the rest of the crew off.

Hesitantly you walked off The Teufel onto the docks. The first few steps were wobbly and uneven, as it had been a few weeks since you had last walked on land, but after shaking your feet and legs, you got used to walking again. Those familiar tingles, that you always got when walking on shore after so long on sea, shot through your legs and you were filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Here on land the scent was even stronger, luring you into the streets. You glanced back at The Teufel over your shoulder and shrugged off the uneasy feeling you got at the thought of leaving your home behind in the harbour. Pulling up your boots a little, you turned away and stepped into the city, finally experiencing what you had dreamed of for so long.

The streets of Ketterdam were unlike any other place you had ever been. Big crowds of tourists and inhabitants were moving as one through the small streets of the Lid. Men, women and children all walked through each other, barely taking notice of the persons passing them. The lights coming through the shop windows casted yellow and white shapes on the cobblestoned ground, with which the shadows of the people danced.

You followed the crowd into the buzzing parts of town, falling in step with the other tourists. Many years ago your grandmother had told you that the Lid was filled with gambling houses and it was the place where the most tourists stuck around. And indeed, as you walked on the crowd gradually got thinner with people leaving right and left to fall into the temptation of the colourful buildings decorated with bright lights. Faint music combined with the loud chatter of people in all languages hung in the salty air, like a blanket that was thrown over this part of the city.

However, all that you could think of was Stefan’s face and his words. Jer elsker pe. In a haze you walked through the busy streets, hearing Stefan’s voice over and over in your head. His touch was imprinted on your skin, the place where his hand had been was burning hot on your arm.

You had known, that was the worst part. For a few weeks you had known. You had sensed it whenever he was looking at you or when he was touching you. The look on his face was different from before. There had been a softness on the Fjerdan’s face that hadn’t been there before. A weakness. It was an undeliberate thought, but it made its way in your mind anyway. If the past ten years of your life had taught you one thing it was that you had to hide your weaknesses. From enemies and friends.

It had been a particular hot night at the boarding school and you hadn’t been able to sleep. That day a new girl had arrived at the school and she’d sat down next to you at breakfast. Many of the others had scowled at her but she had ignored them and instead introduced herself as Lotty. It was the first time that someone had voluntarily come to you and the rest of the day you had spent getting Lotty familiar with the school and its surroundings.

You’d heard the girl stirring next to you and padded over to her. Upon seeing your face, a smile had spread on Lotty’s face and you had whispered: “Want to get out of here?”

Very cautiously you and Lotty had left the sleeping hall and on your toes you had run through the empty corridors of the school building. All the teachers had been asleep already and the big clock in the hall had showed that it was two hours after midnight.

The front door had opened with a small squeak and the dark night air had welcomed you and Lotty outside. The gardens of the boarding school surrounded the entire building with grass, flowers and low bushes. A sweet, humid scent had hung in the air, the result of the sun that had shone on the flowers all day.

You and Lotty had sat down in the middle of a flower bed and you had told her about everything. For the first time in your life you’d felt like you had a friend and you had trusted her with some of the secrets you knew about the school’s building. For hours you two had sat outside, until the sun had started to rise and the petals of the flowers had started to collect the morning humidity. As you had gotten up, you’d put your hand on the ground to push yourself up and you felt something crawl under your palm. You had squealed and stumbled back quickly, staring in disgust at the place where you had put your hand. There on the ground a thick spider had quickly crawled away under the flowers.

Lotty’d started to laugh and you had scolded her. Spiders had always scared you and no matter how much you’d tried to get over it, whenever you saw one you couldn’t help but shudder.

Back at the sleeping hall you had fallen into a restless sleep for the last few hours, dreaming of a thousand legs and jaws. When you’d woken up, Lotty hadn’t been there and at breakfast she had sat with the other children, not with you.

The next morning you had woken up with something crawling up your arm and the sound of laughter.

And now Stefan had shown you his weakness. Though you would never use it against him like Lotty had done to you, there was something that bothered you now you knew his weakness. What if unintentionally you would cause him trouble or danger?

“Watch where you’re going!” a man sneered and he roughly pushed past you.

You shook your head out of your thoughts and looked around. The bright gambling dens had been replaced by small, tall and crooked houses made by all different sorts of bricks and wooden beams for support. The streets were still busy but this was a different crowd. People with comical masks and cloaks moved in little groups, quickly and rushed, as if they were afraid someone would stop them. A few people wore gaudy suits and moved proudly over the streets, their hands in their pockets. The others wore more ragged clothes in dark colours and they walked with their heads down to the ground.

You were in the Barrel, undoubtedly. The gambling houses were still there, but more scattered. Still they weren’t much different from the ones on the Lid; a lot of dramatic lightning and flashing colours, all so that the most people would come in.

The East Stave was on your left. You had refused ever to step foot near the brothels on the West Stave. The horrid stories that your grandmother had told you had already been enough to keep you away and the rumours you had heard from the crew on The Teufel had only added to that.

Your legs were getting tired from walking so much and the unnerving thoughts were still whirling through your head. On The Teufel you would have searched for Stefan and gotten drunk with him hidden somewhere on the deck, but Stefan wasn’t here and The Teufel was far back in the harbour. So instead you searched for the least ostentatious building and eventually settled on a gambling club called the Crow Club.

A silver crow hung over the entrance of the club and you looked up to it as you walked under it, entering the building. You stepped into a big hall that was parted in two by a lowered floor in the back. The black lacquered walls had no windows and all sense of night and day was lost as soon as you stepped inside. The little clock around your neck told you it was little after ten bells. That meant that you had one hour and a half before you had to go back.

You sat on one of the crimson stools at the bar and ordered a drink from the man behind it. He eyed you for a moment and you noticed he was contemplating whether to give someone your age a drink, but he seemed to decide that profit is profit and poured you a drink. You watched him while he worked for a moment. He was not as old as you had thought him to be. The only wrinkles in his face were near the corners of his mouth and the cracks next to his eyes. His skin was dark bronze and his hair pitch black, almost like the walls around him. And what he lacked in height he seemed to be making up in strength, as his arms were muscular and he looked strong enough to throw a man twice his size out of the place.

The drink burned in your throat, but you threw it all in anyway. For a moment your gullet was on fire and the next moment it was gone. The years among a group of adult pirates had learned you how to take your drinks.

You asked the bartender for another and you didn’t miss the surprise on his face, but turned the other way, looking at the parlor around you. Most of the tables in the lower part of the room were occupied by a variety of people. In the left corner of the room sat a couple, their feet entangled under the table, but their eyes fanatically looking at the other.

At a table closer to you sat a woman in a bright red dress with feathers in her hair. From your place you could see the cards in her hand and if you stretched your neck a little you could also see the cards of her neighbour. The table was playing Ridderspel, a simple card game played with the lower numbers of the cards. It was a game to make little money quickly and one of the most played card games in gambling houses everywhere.

The woman had two sevens, an eight and a four of the crow-marked cards in her hand and she pushed forward four little red chips when the dealer asked to place the bets. Her neighbour pushed forward two grey chips and the man opposite of her one grey and one red one. The dealer collected the chips and stacked them in the middle of the table.

On The Teufel you had played many games of Ridderspel with the crew. However, after a while they had banned you from playing games for money. It hadn’t taken long for you to see connections between the faces of people and their cards. You could see a pattern in the order they played their cards and knew after showing the first card of the game who would win.

It had started with Ridderspel. One dark night under the light of a lantern you had been playing the game with Stefan and two others of the crew, Vinay and Cilka, when you had noticed that whenever Cilka got her cards the lightest frown would form on her face if she didn’t get good cards. It was invisible to anyone else, but you saw how her eyebrows would twitch shortly. You knew that everyone had their tells, some more obvious than others, but after that night you had searched the others’ signs. Vinay’s shoulders would slump a little if he had bad cards and Stefan’s eyes would flicker shortly over the table if his cards were good.

After you had learned their signs, you’d noticed that there was a pattern in the way they played their cards. If they had bad cards, they played the highest first, hoping to at least get a little out of the game. If they had good cards, they would hold their highest cards for the end, but they wouldn’t play their lowest card first either. It was a complicated strategy, a difficult trick on your mind, but after months of examining the game, both playing and from afar, you found the pattern. From there on it wasn’t difficult to find the patterns in other games and soon you were banned from playing games on the entire ship.

However, whenever you were on land and there was a gambling house in the city, the crew would often ask you if you could just play some games so they could get some money. You knew that with you playing at the table the game wasn’t fair anymore, but you would do it night after night if that meant you could do something for your crew.

Now, you knew that the woman in red had a good chance of winning the game. She tapped her fingers on her thigh and kept staring at her cards. So much for a bluffing face. The dealer asked to play the first card and the woman threw one of her sevens on the table. Not the highest and not the lowest. Her neighbours answered by throwing an eight and a five.

The next round was played and now the woman played her four, receiving another eight and a seven. She is playing out her opponents. If they wanted to win, they would have to change the course, but you feared it was already too late for them. The woman threw her eight on the table and the others a seven and a five. The last card was played and at her seven, the woman got a six and a four.

As the dealer started to count the points you turned away; you didn’t need to count the points to know that the woman in the red dress had won the game.

“Another one, please,” you said to the barman in Kerch and he nodded at you. Curiosity could be read off his face even by those who didn’t have your talent of understanding facial expressions.

When he gave you your glass his eyes lingered on your clothes and you realised how idiotic you must look in this environment. Though the people in the hall weren’t all wearing evening dresses or three-piece suits, you knew that someone in a black jacket and leather boots to their knees would stand out. Consciously you stroke a hand over the braids in your hair and looked at the bartender.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he noticed your looks. “Many tourists come dressed up.”

You tilted your head to the side and hesitated telling him the truth. Figuring there wouldn’t come much trouble from doing so, you sat up and shook your head. “These are my normal clothes.”

The barkeeper cocked an eyebrow and then went on with cleaning the glasses. You stared at the brown liquid in your glass before you knocked it back and softly placed your glass back on the bar. The movement caught the attention of the man behind the bar and he lifted the bottle, silently asking if you wanted another one.

“Sure,” you answered and pushed your glass forward.

The way the man filled the glass reminded you of how Stefan used to fill your glass. While you preferred to drink straight from the bottle, he would always insist on taking glasses from the galley.

“We can at least pretend we’re fancy,” he’d say, as you were hidden in the shadows of the back of the ship.

A faint smile played on your lips as you thought back of Stefan, but your inside burned as you heard his last words back in your head. Jer elsker pe. The truth was that you weren’t quite sure if you loved Stefan back. He had always been close to you and you appreciated him being such a good friend to you, but you didn’t love him the way he loved you. At least, that’s what you thought. You had never really experienced love before, so how could you know what it felt like?

“Maybe you should slow on those,” the bartender said as you placed yet another empty glass on the bar.

“No,” you rasped, fighting the burn in your throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“I can stop giving you, y’know?” the man said as you lifted your glass again for another.

“And not get paid? You wouldn’t.”

The barkeeper laughed and poured you another glass. This time you didn’t immediately drink it all, but you turned around on your stool and looked at the biggest table on the floor. It was an oval-shaped table, lined with the same crimson of the seat you were sitting on, and around it sat seven people. Dice lay in the middle of the table, surrounded by grey, black and red chips and a stack of cards.

Even in the noise of the other tables and people walking between them, the conversations at the big table were clear.

“You’re bluffing!” the man on the right shouted. He was big in all aspects someone could be big. The hems of his trousers were too high up his legs and the sleeves of his jacket were too short. The golden buttons of his blouse were about to burst and his hat kept sliding off his head because it didn’t fit well. His appearance was only mimicked more by his dark red cheeks and the little drops of sweat that were rolling down his face.

“Am not,” the lanky, dark brown man on the other side of the table said. He had a wicked grin on his handsome face and seemed to be in his element. His feet were lying on the edge of the table and he held his cards loosely in his hand, like they were to fall any moment.

“How could you—? You don’t— No one—” the big man started and the colour drained from his face. You had missed what the beginning of the conversation was, but surely it was not something the big man wanted to come out.

“Maybe you should try to keep such information to yourself,” the tall guy said. “Now, are you in or out?”

The surrounding men at the table nervously shifted in their seats as they looked at the big man. He patted his head with a silk handkerchief and stared at his cards for a moment. A new set of sweat seemed to pour over his forehead and eventually he threw his cards open on the table. ‘I’m out.’

The man got up from the table and he hurried away, followed by the other five men. They walked past you in a queue outside and when they were all gone, the guy at the table smiled pleased.

“He was bluffing,” you noted, after taking a quick glance at the cards that were lying open on the table.

“What?” the barman asked, who had watched the play with you, and you were reminded that you were not alone.

A warm rush spread in your cheeks and you turned your head to the bartender. “That guy was bluffing to scare the man away.”

The man squeezed his eyes at you and said a little too late: “Why’d you think that?”

“Look at the cards on the table,” you said and peered back at the big table. “That man on the left had two of the highest and the person two seats from him had another. I can’t see the cards on this side of the table, but whatever they are, this guy can never have enough to win.”

The barman looked at you for a few seconds. “How do you know?”

You looked out over the hall, scanning the games on other tables. “You learn things,” you shrugged and then nodded to a little table closer by. “See that guy? How he is glancing between his cards and the dealer’s hands?” The barkeeper leaned forward over the bar and looked at where you were pointing. “He has good cards and is trying not to let anyone notice it.”

The man leaned back from the bar and filled your glass without you even asking. He rested one hand on the bar and looked at you. “Where did you learn that?”

“Well, you have to do something on a ship,” you said, swirling the drink. “Eventually staring at the stars all night gets a bit boring.”

The barman snorted laughingly. “You’re from a ship?” Then he looked at your outfit again and he nodded. “Now that makes a lot more sense,” he mumbled. “When did you arrive?”

“About an hour ago,” you answered and pulled the clock from your blouse.

Meanwhile, the handsome guy from the big table walked to the bar and he greeted the bartender as he sat down one seat away from you. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and stopped at the guns on his hips. The clock lowered without you realising and you gave up on trying to hide your stare.

The two pearl-handled guns shone in the light from above and you shook your head in disbelief. Zemini-made revolvers were rare, and you would know. You had heard stories about them from your mates on The Teufel, but none of them had ever even had one in their hands. Only Nerseh in his younger years had owned one, but he had lost it in a battle. The Zemini guns were feared among your crew and there were two of them right next to you now.

“See anything you like, darling?” the guy asked and your eyes shot from his revolvers to his face. He had that same mischievous smile on his lips and there was a glimmer in his eyes as he raised his eyebrow at you.

“Those are pretty rare guns,” you said, ignoring the guy’s suggestive tone.

He took one of the revolvers from the holster and let it twirl in his fingers. Though you didn’t want to, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the ease with which the boy handled his guns. You had gotten quite familiar with your own guns, but you had yet to learn that.

The boy must have seen your googling eyes because he smiled a bit more real now and said: “I know, Zemini-made. You don’t find that very oft—”

“Faen!” you interrupted in Fjerdan, using the word that you had heard Stefan say so often. You had looked at your watch and realised that it was much later than you had thought it was. It was already a quarter till midnight and it would take you at least twenty minutes to get back to the harbour. You jumped from your seat, threw some coins on the bar and straightened your coat, mumbling: “Stupid windowless walls…”

Without sparing another look at the two guys you left behind you stormed out of the Crow Club into the street. Rain was pouring down from the sky and you shivered at the sudden cold. For a second you looked around and scanned your surroundings and then you hurried off in the direction you had come from.

People passed you in a blur of colours and shadows as you ran over the streets, desperately trying to find a way back to the harbour. The captain wouldn’t appreciate you being late and it would most likely cause you a night scrubbing the deck on a night you actually had been free. But perhaps Stefan would accompany you.

Your mind automatically seemed to find a way to think of your best friend. The situation in the gambling hall had taken your mind off him for a minute but now your logical senses were numbed by the alcohol the Fjerdan was back again. Stefan could’ve easily found his way back. The boy could find a route almost everywhere, even in a place you had never been before. He would just follow the direction of the sun or look at the leaves on a tree and know where you were.

But Stefan wasn’t there to guide you back. He was probably already back at The Teufel, waiting impatiently on you.

Every alley looked the same and all the gambling houses had the same flashy lights. You didn’t know if you were moving forward or just running in circles. Somewhere above in the sky you heard the twelve bells that told you you had to be back already. With the feeling you had passed the house on the corner of the street three times before, you ran on, ignoring the protesting people if you ran into them. You almost fell over your own feet and nearly stumbled into a girl dressed all in dark clothes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pushing away from her softly but when you turned around to her she was nowhere to be seen on the street. You were too much in a hurry to worry about that and ran on, sighing in relief when you saw the fluorescent lights from the Lid.

The Lid was filled with more people than the Barrel you ran from and it was harder to manage a way through. You pushed and threw yourself between people, growing a little nauseous from the smell of so many bodies together combined with the smells that came from the kitchens around. As you hurried through the tourists, your breath was high in your throat and you could feel your heart beating in your head. Heavy breaths fell over your lips but you refused to take a moment to rest.

The glittery lanes were soon exchanged for the dark open space of the harbour. The cobblestones echoed the sounds of your footsteps as you ran. People shot you weird looks as you raced past them.

The closer you came to where The Teufel lay, the busier it became, but instead of searching for a reason you just hoped that you could still make it past them. However, the crowd became too big for you to run as fast as you had and you slowed your pace slightly. You zigzagged between people and pushed them aside, getting various insults thrown at your head. As you came closer to the inner circle of the crowd, you realised that they weren’t just randomly standing there; they were standing around The Teufel.

You stopped running completely and approached the busiest part of the crowd at walking pace. Now you weren’t focusing on your own thoughts you heard that the people were all muttering and talking with each other—and that the people closer to the water were screaming and shouting.

The few people that stood in between you and your destination you pushed aside softly and the closer you got the more you felt a strange heat on your face. When the woman in front of you stepped aside, your jaw dropped.

There, in the water, right where it had been when you left earlier this night, lay The Teufel completely in flames. Not a single part of the main deck had been spared, flames were reaching high up in the sky, eating the masts like a monstrous creature. Thick dark grey clouds hung above the ship in the dark blue night sky. The flames curled around the hull of The Teufel, like a devil claiming its prey. Wooden walls collapsed, iron melted and ropes caught fire, sending the flames up to destroy the crow’s nest.

Among the chaos on the shore and the sound of the fire, all you could think about was one thing. My family. The shouting and cackling couldn’t drown out the screams of terror that came from the belly of the ship. Cries for help, prayers to all gods and saints. Your crew was in there. Your people were inside of a burning ship. Your friends and family. They were all trapped.

It could have been you. If you hadn’t lost track of time, you would’ve been there with them. You would have arrived before the twelve bells, gone inside with the others and would be trapped in there now. It could have been you, but instead it was your crew. And you didn’t know what was worse.

There was nothing you could do. No way to run on the ship and free your mates without catching fire yourself. No way to stop that fire that was capturing The Teufel. No human could do it, no grisha either. This was more than an accidental fire, this was controlled. Don’t fight a bigger power without knowing its weaknesses. It was a phrase your father would say to you whenever you had been mad at the world as a child. The advice he had ignored before he had gone to fight his way into death. You didn’t know what the fire’s weaknesses were, if there were any weaknesses at all. All you could do was stand on the shore with your hands clasped over your chest and your eyes stuck on what had once been The Teufel. What had once been your home.

The screams of the crew were engraving themselves in your mind, cutting you open and leaving deep wounds. The last bit of your hope had been left behind on that ship and was now burning away, leaving nothing but a hollow chest.

Time passed by as you stood on the shore, watching the last remains of your home falling apart. You didn’t look away when the fire burst through the portholes in the hull of the ship and you didn’t flinch as you heard the last sounds you would ever hear from your crewmates. You took it all in, soaked your mind in the pain, feeling the shock and terror making place for fury. One day, you promised yourself. One day you would find a way to get revenge.

You knew that in a city like this news would spread fast. Surely before sunrise all the people in Ketterdam would know of the ship that had burned away in Fifth Harbour. You wouldn’t be safe; not from the questions of the people and not from whoever had done this. You were sure that they wouldn’t be too keen on having missed someone from the crew before they blew it up. Chances were big that, if anyone ever found out that you had belonged to The Teufel, your days would be numbered.

Fortunately you hadn’t told anyone you were part of The Teufel’s crew. Anyone but the barman at the Crow Club. You hadn’t literally told him, but you were sure he could put two and two together.

Once the fire had been settled and the ashes of the wood were only still smoldering, you straightened your back. You would find the barman and ask him not to tell anyone. Or perhaps you would find your ending in the streets of the Barrel. The Teufel had been your home for two years, but it was time to get moving.

-=-=-

The Crow Club stood proudly in front of you. Rain was running down your face, following the lines of your neck into your blouse. You were cold and your entire body was shaking but you knew that was more from the shock than the rain. In the back of your head you still heard the screams but you tried to block them out as you stepped to the gambling house.

As you walked closer to the entrance, a boy stepped in front of the door, blocking your way. He was huge with arms full of tattoos and a mouth full of crooked teeth, some of them missing, and when you approached him you realised he was watching you. He expected me. This guy had been waiting for you, he had known that you would come back. How could he?

Hesitating you went forward. You had already seen the gun on his belt and you were quite sure if you turned around and walked away he wouldn’t be afraid to use it. In front of the boy you stopped and leaned to the side to look inside the building.

“I’m sorry, could I go inside?” you asked, your voice mellow and innocent. “I would really like to warm up a little.”

The man just tilted his head to the side and his lips turned into a stupid grin. His hand rested casually on his gun, though you knew that all his moves had been precisely calculated. Whether by himself or someone’s orders was your next guess.

“You better follow me,” the boy said and his eyes glassily looked at you.

“Do I have a choice then?”

“No.” The man took his gun from his belt and easily pointed it to your chest. If he shot now he wouldn’t kill you, just harm you. So he wants me alive.

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled and lifted your arms in the air to show you were defenceless.

The guy roughly pushed you away from the door and held the barrel to your back as he led you away from the Crow Club.

You weren’t sure why the boy didn’t just put a bullet through your head. If he was part of whoever had burned down The Teufel, why would he want you to stay alive? The rest had been murdered mercilessly, what did they have in mind for you?

However, if he wasn’t not part of the fire, why did he want to have you at all? You couldn’t think of anything you had done wrong or of any danger you could be. You were pretty much just a harmless teen in a strange city.

The man pushed you through the street and over a bridge. You made a few turns into small alleys and streets, passing houses in all shapes and kinds. Behind some windows flickered a soft light, others were dark. You heard screaming from one house and music from the house next to it. Laughter of children and cursing from adults.

You stopped in front of a house that looked exactly like all the others; crippled and on the brink of collapse. The guy held his gun to you as he kicked open the door and then pressed the barrel deeper in your back to make you walk. Slowly you passed over the threshold and stood still in the hall of the house.

Much different from what you had expected, the inside of the house was not damaged like the outside. While the colours and construction did look old, the house was built to survive for longer than just a few years.

“Up,” the man mumbled and he nodded to the stairs.

You followed his order and headed up the stairs, feeling your legs ache from all the walking on land you had done in the past hours. Though you got used quite fast to the difference, a sudden change from sea to shore did have its effects on your body. Especially if you crossed an entire city twice in one night.

The staircase led to a landing with many doors. The house wasn’t particularly big and with that many doors, you figured the rooms must be small. You wondered what this house was used for. It almost had the feeling of a hostel, but there wouldn’t be many guests if putting a gun to someone’s head was their way of advertising.

“That room,” said the guy and he gestured at one of the doors in the corridor.

The wooden planks creaked under the weight of your body. The door of the room was closed and the man with the gun knocked on it with much more restraint than you expected from someone who had just abducted you from the streets.

It was silent for a moment as you and the man waited for the door to open. Your heart was beating in your throat and you swallowed deeply. Nerves were running through your body, sending tingles down to your fingertips.

The door opened and before you had time to look inside, the guy pushed you inside and closed the door again behind you. You were inside a small room, with a bed, a chair and a closet that put half the room in shadows. On the wall opposite of the door was a little window, showing the side of another building that stood next to the house. The window reminded you of the portholes inside the hold of a ship, your least favourite place as there was very little light.

However, the room didn’t have much space in your mind as your attention was caught by the person in the room. He could not be much older than you yet it felt like this boy had more character than an old man. His face was hidden in the shadows but you could make out the hard lines framed by sleek black hair. His eyes shone like emeralds under his dark brows and there was a malicious glance in them when they rested on you.

“Sit,” he spoke and the rock salt rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “Please.”

You sat down on the simple wooden chair in the middle of the room, though you rather would’ve kept standing. The boy was towering over you now, standing in front of you, leaning on his cane. Your eyes slid to the silver handle under his gloved hands. It had the shape of a crow’s head.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to calm the nerves you felt rushing through you. You weren’t necessarily afraid of the boy, but you also couldn’t deny the unease in your body.

The boy cocked his head to the side and the smallest wicked grin played on his lips. “An hour ago a ship was set ablaze in Fifth Harbour,” the boy said and you looked away from his stern gaze. “The Teufel. A rather bold way of naming a ship, after the devil, isn’t it? Nothing is left of The Teufel, no plank, no crewmate. Or at least, so is said. That is why you are here, not y/n?”

Your head snapped up to the boy and your eyes narrowed at him. “You know my name?”

“I know lots, y/n, and your name happens to be on that list,” the boy said and it was a little harder for him to hide his smirk. He’s enjoying it, you realised in disbelief. This is what he’s trained for. “I also know that you are the only living crewmate and that you visited my club this evening.”

“Your club?” You frowned—he seemed way too young to have a successful gambling club.

“Yes, my club,” the boy repeated and he shifted his weight, letting a sigh fall from his lips. “You sat at the bar and ordered more drinks in two hours than an average adult would in four hours.”

You looked back at your feet. You knew you had trouble staying away from the drinks, but that didn’t make it any nicer when someone pointed it out. At sea it had never really mattered—the others had drunk with you and as long as you did your duties successfully the captain didn’t care if you were sober or not.

“You spoke with no one and just watched the games, until my barman got some information out of you,” the boy went on and you felt his gaze on you. “He said you were able to determine the outcome of the game after just the first card was played.”

“So?” you shrugged. Surely that was not why the boy had gotten you there and it was definitely not something that was on your mind right now. All you could think of were the screams and the longer you sat in the dark room, the more cramped it became.

“Can you?”

“I don’t see how—”

“Answer the question.” His voice was hard and cold, but laced with curiosity that he failed to hide from you.

“I guess I can, yes.”

The boy stayed silent for a while and the tension in the room reached for your throat. You had never been one for small rooms, that’s why you had chosen for the sea. And now the anxiety of all that had happened that night was piling up on your chest, like someone pressing down on you. The walls were closing in on you, leaving you gasping for breath. Your clothes were still wet and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck, but you were no longer cold.

You clenched your hands around the fabric of your blouse, feeling it crumple between your fingers. But even in your panicked state you could see the change in demeanor in the boy. He planned this. He had known this would happen, he had deliberately put you in this room, knowing what it would do to you.

“What do you want from me?” you breathed, looking up to meet his eyes, and then added with an intensity you didn’t know was in you: “Did you kill them?”

The hard expression on the boy’s face fell for a moment as he looked at you. For a minute he turned into a boy his age, someone with a soul. “I promise you I didn’t kill them. I had nothing to do with the fire.” Then he straightened his back and slammed his cane on the floor, pulling himself out of the moment. “I have business. We’ll continue in the morning.”

The boy limped to the door and the cane suddenly made more sense. He pulled the door open and stepped through it when you interrupted him.

“Who are you?”

He looked over his shoulder and casted a dark glance at your figure. You had stood up from your chair and were still holding onto the back for balance. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t read and you feared that it wouldn’t be the last time that happened.

“Kaz Brekker. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

-=-=-

The mattress you were lying on was lumpy and hard, forcing your back to straighten in a way it never had to. The blanket was itchy and heavy and pressed hard on your chest, not allowing you to take deep breaths.

You were shifting in and out of sleep, unable to tell reality from imagination. One moment you were staring at the dark ceiling above you, the next you were sitting alone in the hold of The Teufel. The room around you moved in front of your eyes, the shadows dancing on the walls. In the ship, water slowly rose around you. You tried to get up, tried to run away, but it was as if you were glued to the floor. Unable to move you sat waiting for the rising water to reach for your throat.

Something moved in the room. It was a flicker of a shadow in the corner of your eye but enough for you to notice. You forced your eyes open, but the water was rising so quickly it was impossible for you to focus on anything else. The water level was at your jaw now. You took a final breath and the shadow in the room moved again. Closing your eyes against the water, it rose above your nose.

Then there was more movement. The shadow was coming closer to you, moving with the grace of a cloud.

Feeling the water on your face, you opened your eyes and shot up in the bed. The water disappeared and you were in the dark room again, shaking and coughing. Yet the threat wasn’t gone; the shadow was still in the corner.

You shifted to the side and rested your back against the cold wall, looking at the shadow in anticipation. While your heart was beating in your throat, you calmly looked ahead of you until the shadow moved from the corner.

“How did you see me?” the shadow asked and you shrugged.

“You move like a spider.” And I’m afraid of spiders.

Out of the shadows stepped a young girl, hidden in a flowy cloak that moved along with her. The lack of light threw a veil over the room, covering it with a black and white filter, but still you could make out the brown skin of the girl and her almost black eyes, that were staring right at you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though it would be no surprise if the girl had something to do with your meeting with Brekker a few hours ago.

“Look,” the girl said and she moved to sit next to you on the bed. You caught a shimmer of something near her wrists, but when you looked at her she was wearing a light smile. “This isn’t the worst place to end up. You have walked through these streets; you know where you could have ended.”

You thought back of earlier this evening when you were walking through the roads of the Barrel for the first time. The girl was right; if you hadn’t been brought to where you were now you could have turned into the colourless types that you had seen or, worse, you could have ended up in one of the brothels.

“Kaz doesn’t just take anyone in,” the girl continued. “He must think you have some use, or he would have left you on the streets.”

You snorted; that wasn’t exactly a much better prospect.

The girl must have guessed your thought because she chuckled shortly. “I know it does not seem like it now, but trust me—this is the right place to be.”

Silence filled the room for a minute as you thought about the girl’s words. Instinct told you that you could trust her, and that her trust once lost, was lost forever. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but you were afraid of the answers. You preferred mystery over knowledge right now.

The shadow girl was looking at you with pity on her face, like she felt bad for your situation. There was sympathy behind her eyes and compassion in her touch as she placed her hand shortly over yours, giving it the lightest squeeze.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your throat tightening at the threat of tears.

The girl stared at you for a second and then she gave you a smile. “Inej,” she said. “But you might hear of me as the Wraith.”

Inej got up from her place on the bed and walked to the door. Her cloak fluttered behind her through the air as she walked, falling against her legs when she halted. She turned around to you. “Kaz will send someone to get you in the morning.”

“What will happen?”

“I don’t know what he has planned,” Inej sighed. “But I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do.”

She shot you a final smile and left the room silently. The shadow disappeared as quietly as it had come.

-=-=-

You didn’t know if you had slept at all. Undoubtedly you had dozed off for a while, but for most of the night you had just lain on your back staring at the stains on the ceiling above you. When the morning sun had brightened your room, the hope that it might all be a dream had disappeared when reality came in crashing hard.

The clothes you had worn last night had dried from the rain, but they no longer brought the comfort they used to. Here wearing those clothes meant that you stood out; you couldn’t blend in. When the same guy as last night had knocked on your door and ordered you to follow him you had left your jacket behind, deciding that the rest of your outfit was conspicuous enough on its own.

Last night in the dark the house had been silent, but now you heard noise everywhere. There were many more doors than you had thought and behind every one lay a secret. The house seemed bigger now it was light. Although there was no direct sunlight in the corridors you could sense that it was day. Last night you had felt mystery as you had walked through the corridors but now it felt more like the boarding school you had gone to with all the whispers.

“Where are we going?” you asked the boy who had brought you to this house.

“Crow Club,” he grumbled and then kept silent.

You walked the same route you had last night, but now the streets were deserted and the houses quiet. The Barrel was the part of Ketterdam that lived at night.

The big, silver crow that hung above the entrance of the Crow Club like a guardian quickly came to your sight and you shivered lightly. Entering that club was what had gotten you in this situation and you feared you would only get deeper in this mess when you entered again.

However, the big guy behind you left you no choice and before you even had time to think he had already pushed you over the threshold.

Stumbling inside you were greeted by the same black, windowless walls and the same stuffed scent. The crimson stools at the bar were unoccupied but the tables on the gambling floor were played on, despite the early hours. Games of Ridderspel and Spijker were in full motion as you were led through a door on the side of the room.

“Close the door behind you, Pim,” a voice from the shadows said and the boy who had led you there, apparently named Pim, closed the door.

You looked at the strange scene in front of you. You hadn’t known what to expect but it sure wasn’t a gambling parlor. There was one big table in the middle of the room and around it stood eight chairs. Only one of the chairs was occupied and with a jolt you recognised the boy from the Zemeni guns.

“Goede morgen,” he smiled at you as he leaned back in his chair. “Care for a game?”

“What?” You stood rooted to the ground, staring in confusion at the guy at the table.

From the shadows on the side of the room Kaz Brekker stepped. The loud, rhythmic thud from his cane on the floor was the only sound in the room as he walked to the table. He stopped in the middle and looked up at you with his hard cold gaze.

“Play a game,” he said, resting his two hands on the crow head of his cane.

“I don’t understand,” you tried.

“It’s easy,” Brekker said. “You said you were good at card games, right? So prove it—play a game with Jesper.”

Jesper, the boy at the table, flashed his smile full of white teeth at you and raised his eyebrows. It felt like a trap, but you couldn’t forget what Inej had said to you that night. I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do. An invitation to a game wouldn’t be your end.

Behind you Pim stepped closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder to push you forward. Within a second you had turned around and taken hold of his arm, twisting it dangerously close to breaking. The boy looked at you with somewhat of fright on his face and there was a little wave of triumph in your stomach. The emotions of the situation got the better of you and your heart was racing as you felt the anger rushing through your veins.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed through gritted teeth and pushed his arm a little further. “Understand?”

Pim’s eyes flashed to the two people behind you and he recollected himself. He pulled his arm from your grip and stepped back to the door, avoiding your eyes and looking gruffly ahead.

You turned around and found Jesper looking at you in awe and even Brekker couldn’t hide his surprise. Then you nodded at the two men and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Let’s play then.”

Brekker nodded approvingly and shuffled the cards with his gloved hands. Your eyes were glued to the smooth movement of the crows imprinted cards. They slid through the fingers of the pale black-haired smoothly like water.

“I assume you know Ridderspel?” the gloved dealer asked as he placed four cards in front of you on the table.

“Of course,” you said, watching Jesper intently as this one got his cards.

Because everything in the situation was new for you, it would take you two or three rounds before you would get used to the game. All, from the cards and chairs to your opponent and the dealer, was unfamiliar to you and combining that with the pressure of supposably your life on the line only made it easier to overlook things.

Therefore you had to pay extra attention, and mostly to Jesper. His easygoing attitude and big smile were dangerous tricks that could throw you off without any difficulty but you wouldn’t fall for them. You were looking for little things that would give him away, like the slightest falter of his smile, a tiny frown or nervous twitch.

Jesper picked up his cards and you watched him from the corner of your eyes as you pretended to look at your own cards. For this round however those wouldn’t really matter. First you had to find Jesper’s tell. That you might lose and give him confidence was only an additional benefit; people made more mistakes when they’re blinded by the price.

At first nothing seemed to happen. Jesper kept the same smirk on his face and played the round with nonchalance, taking all but one pair in the game. Triumphantly he leaned his chair back on two chair legs and stacked his chips in front of him.

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get it later,” he said, giving you a wink.

You shot him a sweet smile back and took the new cards off the table. After one look you had them memorised and you looked at Jesper. He was looking at his cards with sparkles in his eyes, but yet again it was no different than before.

Silently you cursed yourself. Last night he had seemed so open and easy to read, but you realised now that there were many more layers to the guy with the pearl-handled revolvers.

Again you lost the game, now with all your cards being lost to Jesper. His pile of red chips was building and yours was only getting lower. You looked at your chips. If you didn’t win soon the game would be over and you’d lose, and you didn’t want to think what consequences that had.

The third game were the last cards of the deck before it was shuffled again. Your hand was to your benefit with no card lower than six. You knew there weren’t many high cards, if any at all, left in the game since Jesper had beaten you with high numbers every time. That meant that he would have low cards and now was the perfect time to watch his reaction.

You took a new approach to finding his tell. Instead of focusing on his facial expressions, that he proved to have under control, you now concentrated on his body language. His shoulders hung relaxed and his arms were resting on the edge of the table. Though you couldn’t see his legs under the table, you knew they weren’t standing neatly on the ground but were instead crossed or at least moving. Nothing in his posture gave him away.

Until it did. It was a flash of a second, if you’d blinked you wouldn't have seen it. For a fraction of time Jesper’s shoulders fell and his arms stiffened. No one else in the room noticed it, but your senses became hypersensitive.

Then, when you looked at his face, you saw more. His smirk wasn’t genuine anymore and the sparkles in his eyes weren’t as bright as before. It were minuscule changes, but big messages to you.

“I raise,” you spoke calmly and you pushed forward the last of your chips. It was all or nothing.

You saw Brekker raising his eyebrow in the corner of your eye, but you were focused on Jesper. His brows furrowed a little and he pushed forward the same amount. Though he had chips left, if you won this round you would have much more than he, meaning you won this game.

“Let’s play,” you grinned and opened with your six, your lowest card, but still a rather high card.

Jesper’s card would be crucial. If he had higher than a six, he would play that and you wouldn’t win the game. If he had a six, he would play that one and the cards would be evened out, but you would know that the six was his highest card. If he played anything lower than a six it would mean that you had won the game, for no one would lose a round on purpose and play a lower card when they had a higher one.

Expectantly you looked at Jesper. His smirk had gone and made place for a frown as he looked at the card on the table. His joyful bluffing face was nowhere to be seen and a sigh fell from his lips when he realised his defeat. He threw a five on the table and sunk back in his chair.

With a grin on your face you played the rest of the round and won all Jesper’s cards. At the end of the game, you rested your chin on your folded hands and smiled at Jesper. “You know what?” you started and Jesper looked up at you. “I think I got it.”

-=-=-

Kaz and Jesper had left the room after the game and Pim was standing on the outside of the door, making sure no one would get in. They had not said a word to you when they left and now you were alone in the silent gambling parlor. At least, that’s what they wanted you to believe.

“Inej,” you said. “Come out please.”

No matter how focused you had been on the game, you hadn’t missed the little shadow sneaking inside near the end. And you hadn’t missed how Brekker’s eyes had shifted to one particular corner while he was watching your game with Jesper.

The girl appeared from the shadow and silently walked over to you, giving you a small smile. “How did you know I was here?”

“Because you wanted to be seen,” you simply said and by the way her eyes widened you knew you were right. “I don’t really know you, but I have the feeling you can be really invisible if you want. Me seeing you is not a coincidence or special talent of mine. You wanted me to see you.”

Inej chuckled softly and shook her head. “How do you do that? Knowing what I feel by just looking at me?”

You smiled and shrugged. “I had a tutor,” you said. “Mayranoush was her name. She taught me how to know people before they even see you.”

The memory of The Teufel’s quartermaster hurt. The weird situation you were in had taken your mind off the loss for a moment, but now there was nothing to distract you the pain came double as hard.

You thought of your crew and how much you already missed them. Captain Nerseh and his brusque manners but warm heart; Marina and her cheerfulness; Vinay, who was the only one who still had wanted to play games with you. You missed them all so much and you couldn’t believe that they weren’t there anymore.

But the one you missed the most was Stefan. He had been your best friend for the past two years, you had spent every day together and never had you thought you’d have to say goodbye. You thought of his last words to you. Back then you hadn’t known what to say, but now as you were sitting there without him you knew that you loved him too. But it was too late.

“Jer elsker pe,” you whispered to yourself.

“What?” Inej asked and you looked up. You had forgotten she was sitting next to you, so silent she was.

“Nothing,” you mumbled and then turned to her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” Inej answered and she smiled at you.

“Have you ever loved someone?”

Inej’s eyes flickered to the door Kaz had just left through and then she looked at you in silence for a minute. “No,” she said finally. “Never loved like that. Why?”

You stared at the upholstered table in front of you and swallowed away the pain in your throat. “I just… It hurts so much. Everyone always says that love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but no one ever mentions the pain…”

“Maybe the pain makes you appreciate it more,” Inej said. “Often we don’t see what we have until it’s gone.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you shook your head. Inej was right; you hadn’t known you loved Stefan until he was gone. But that didn’t matter anymore. There was no way you could get the Fjerdan back and you wouldn’t turn into a mess trying to find one. You would keep your love for him deep in your heart until it was nothing more than a memory.

“Life’s not fair,” you said and you wiped the tears from your face. “But I’ll get my even.”

“How?” Inej asked and you turned to her.

“I will find who burned down my home and I will destroy them to the ground they’re standing on.”

“I suggest you find help for that,” the cold voice of Kaz Brekker said.

You looked to your side to meet Kaz and Jesper. Pim was standing inside of the room again, still avoiding your eyes when you looked at him. Jesper was watching you with a smirk and he winked at you when he caught your eyes.

Finally you turned to Brekker, who was looking at you with a peculiar expression. There was something playing around his lips that you would almost call a smile and his eyes had lost the ice cold gaze.

“Who do you suggest?” you asked, looking up at Kaz.

He shrugged half and said, before he walked away: “I have some connections.”

Pim and he disappeared behind the door and you were left dumbfounded with Inej and Jesper. The latter placed his hand on your shoulder and chuckled. You looked between him and Inej and raised an eyebrow. “What just happened?”

“I think you just became a member of the Dregs.”

- - - - -

special thanks to @awritingtree for the support and encouragement <3

there’s no taglist yet, but let me know if youw ant to be added to the SoC-taglist!

MASTERLIST

#six of crows #six of crows imagine #crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #soc #six of crows x reader #the crows x reader #crows imagine #the crows

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pxedpiper · 3 years

Text

Horizon (20)

Plot Summary: Once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. Now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

Pairings: Ateez x Reader (Kim Hongjoong x Reader)

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and sexual implications throughout the fic, nothing ever specified in detail

Previous / Masterlist / Next

A/N: I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since the last update but I am here now with a longer chapter for you all so hopefully that will make up for it !! And perfect timing since Ateez just had a comeback (which is AMAZING AS ALWAYS)! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out sooner but I won’t make any promises rip.

Inwardly, you cursed again as you looked back at the shocked faces of your mother and father, a reunion you were very much trying to avoid.

Trying to keep your voice calm, you responded to them, “What are you doing here? Where’s (B/N)?”

“He’s back at the castle- Never mind him, (Y/N), we’ve been looking everywhere for you! What were you thinking, letting that dreaded pirate take you away like that? We didn’t know if you were alive or dead!” Your father was quick to turn attention back to the situation at hand.

“He was going to kill everyone on the ship if I didn’t go with him, I figured one life was better than however many were on the ship that day,” You answered back, keeping your composure. Internally, you were hoping that your parents wouldn’t notice who you were with- or what you were wearing, for that matter.

“Well, it’s very well good that Admiral Reeves found you,” Your mother sighed in what you could almost be fooled to be relief, “Months of searching finally paid off, especially since that Sweet who’d taken you up and disappeared on us, we should’ve known better than to trust any of those filthy pirates.”

“Sweet is dead,” You told them, trying to leave out as many details as possible, “That’s why he never showed back up.”

“How do you know that- and where is Admiral Reeves?” Your mother exclaimed, huffing slightly as she waited impatiently, “Honestly, he tells us he’d be here with our daughter and sure enough, she’s here, but he’s nowhere to be found! Maybe we should-!”

“Reeves is dead, too. The whole ship is currently sinking, probably already at the bottom of the ocean right now,” You cut her off, knowing this wasn’t going to lead anywhere good.

“What do you mean, he’s dead-?” Your father cut himself off once he noticed your appearance, “By, god, what happened to you?! You’re covered in blood!” Hongjoong’s jacket had opened up due to you having moved your arms, making the massive bloodstains apparent.

“My, god, (Y/N), are you alright?!” Your mother rushed to you, checking you for any apparent wounds, “How did you get so much blood on your clothes?! Are you hurt?”

“It’s not mine.”

“What?” Your mother looked at you, confused.

“The blood,” You spoke slowly, “It’s not mine. It’s Admiral Reeves’s.”

“Admiral Ree-,” Your mother still seemed lost until the meaning of your words finally seemed to sink in. She let go of you, backing away slowly, “(Y/N), you didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, but you could tell how much she was hoping for you to deny it.

Instead, you shook your head, “I did. I killed Admiral Aldrich Reeves, just an hour ago, in fact.”

“Don’t be silly, now, how could a girl like you possibly-,” Your father started to scoff at you, but stopped once he noticed the serious look on your face, “(Y/N), cease this preposterous joke this instant!”

“It’s not a joke, Father,” You looked at him with a neutral expression, “The precious princess of this kingdom has just committed murder. What do you intend to do about that?”

“(Y/N), what have you done?!” Your mother fumed, finally dropping the concerned parent act, “You’ve committed one of the gravest crimes you could ever commit, and to a respected admiral no less! How can we look our people on the eye with a murderer as their princess?! We have no choice but to disown you!”

“No choice? Please, you disowned me from the moment I was born, don’t act like you care now.” You laughed humorlessly, “And don’t make me laugh, looking your people in the eye. All you do is look down on them, ignoring their suffering and their disgusting acts so you can live comfortably up in the palace! Half of them don’t even know there is a princess because you kept me locked away for so long! Please, for once in your lives, stop acting more righteously than you are! I’ve been around pirates for the past six months, and they’ve all proven themselves to be better people than you!” It was at this point your parents realized who your company exactly was.

“…So, this is where you’ve been the entire time,” Your father spoke slowly, “You truly are the most disobedient child a parent could ever loathe to receive, hanging around the very people I taught you to be wary of.”

“I was wary of them, at least at first,” You stepped forward with a glare, rushing to defend your friends, “But then I realized that they weren’t the true monsters; they never were. The real monsters were the Royal Navy, kidnapping normal sailors and putting them through hell- did you know Reeves physically and psychologically tortured his crewmates? Did you know that some of them even died because of him? Innocent men who wanted nothing to do with anything lost their lives because of monsters like him who were the ones who truly deserved to die! Tell me, were you aware of this, father?”

Your father was silent before he answered, “You have to understand, (Y/N), sometimes the methods used by the navy aren’t the most… orthodox, but-!”

“But, what?! You curse pirates for kidnapping, stealing, and murdering, but here you are, defending it once it’s someone of your own naval force! You’re no better than the pirates you love to hate so much!” You fumed, finally letting the frustration that had built up with your parents over the years out. “You say you have no choice to disown me? That’s perfectly fine by me, I already found a new family anyway.” As if to prove your words, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung stepped up behind you, all of them on edge in case your parents tried to pull anything.

“So, you’re just going to turn your back on us, on the kingdom, to go off and play pirate with our worst enemy?” Your father just scoffed at you, “Time and time again you’ve proven yourself to be a disappointment, but nothing ever came close to this.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Hongjoong stepped up, glowering at your father, “If that’s truly how you felt about your daughter, why even bother to look for her? If even I, your so called ‘worst enemy’, can see how amazing she is, how blind to your own children must you be?”

“Don’t bother, Hongjoong,” You shook your head, “It’s probably just as I thought; the only reason you went looking for me was for sympathy, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t look good if the princess was kidnapped and there wasn’t even an attempt to find her, would it? Should’ve just said I was dead and be done with it, make things a lot easier for the both of us.”

“(Y/N), if you go with them, it’ll be war,” Your father warned, “It’ll be the entire navy against a ragtag group of pirates, even if it is the Pirate King. There’s no way you could win, not in a million year.”

“Oh, and if I stay? What, would you throw me in jail or have me executed?” You challenged, “You’ve already said you have to disown me. Are you too proud to just let me go?”

“You killed an admiral, how are we supposed to just let you go?!” Your mother shrieked, “You’ll be a wanted criminal!”

“Better than a captive princess,” You retorted, gearing yourself to run at a moment’s notice, “If it means going to war, then so be it. We’ll be more than ready to face your army. I’m not afraid of you, either of you!”

“Enough of this, guards, capture them!” Your father ordered, the guards surrounding them making their move towards you, but luckily you realized the situation quickly and began to run back towards the ship, the others following suit as you made to get away.

“San, please tell me you’ve gotten everything you need,” Hongjoong demanded as soon as you were back on the ship, meeting up with the carpenter who’d only just made it there himself.

“Yeah, at least enough to be able to fix it while on sea- why?” San asked, but Hongjoong just shook his head.

“No time to explain, we have to go, now! Everyone, get ready, we’re leaving!” Just as you were pulling away from the dock, you could still see your parents running up toward the pier, their faces filled with anger and disappointment. All you could do was look back at them, your own face showing your determination to prove them wrong, until finally you couldn’t see their faces anymore and you flopped down onto the deck.

“Ohhhh, what did I just do?” You groaned, cursing yourself at your actions, “Please tell me I didn’t just do that!”

“You did, and it was bloody brilliant, if you asked me,” Wooyoung spoke up, “I’d never seen you so mad before; Other than when you first got here, of course.”

“Brilliant? I just declared war on my own parents!” You exclaimed, sitting straight up, “I’m not even the captain, what right did I have to do that?! Not to mention that there’s no way a single pirate crew can bring down an entire kingdom, this is insane-!”

You were cut off by Hongjoong grabbing onto your shoulders, “(Y/N)! Calm down! We’re going to be alright! If you hadn’t declared war, I was certainly going to by the way they were talking about you. And you know I wouldn’t lead us into a fight if I didn’t think there was a chance we were going to win.”

“She has a point, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa spoke up, “We’re just one ship, how could we go up against the entire naval army?”

“I never said it would be easy, but have you forgotten that I am the Pirate King? Come now, you must know me better than that by now. Besides, I know someone, someone who can help, though I admit I am… slightly hesitant to ask for it,” Hongjoong replied, his voice certain until the last sentence.

“Why? Because they might not agree?” Mingi asked curiously.

“No, because it’ll give him an opening to criticize me and I’m not exactly looking forward to that,” Hongjoong answered, “But if that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it. I’d rather swallow my pride than let us go in at a disadvantage.”

“Who is it?” You questioned, curious to know about the man who made even Hongjoong hesitant to ask for help.

“You’ll be meeting him soon enough, so I guess I could say it, though I’m really not looking forward to it,” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s my mentor, Eden. The one who taught me how to be a pirate.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Seonghwa nodded, “He’ll likely be able to help. It may not give us the winning edge, but it’ll be something, at least.”

“And maybe we can go back to Elysia, try to see if we can squeeze anything out of Maddox,” Yunho added, “Better to try and fail than not try at all.”

“I’ve been wanting to pay a visit to Maddox again anyway,” Hongjoong frowned, “There’s some questions that need answering and he’s the only person who’s able to do it.” His eyes quickly shot to you before looking back towards the rest of the crew.

“I’d still like to go back to my family, if it’s alright with you, Captain,” Jongho spoke up, “It’d probably be for the best to let them know what’s happening, especially if we’re going at war with the kingdom.”

“Of course,” Hongjoong agreed, “If anyone else would like to see their families as well, I’m more than willing than to sail wherever we needed to.” He paused for a moment, as if waiting for an answer, but was met with silence. “Alright, we’ll head for Jongho’s family and then I’ll send for Eden while we’re there. No doubt he’ll take the chance to give me an earful…”

Later that night, you quietly climbed up the rope to the crow’s nest, now being quite adept at being able to do so without falling. Once you arrived at the top, you were shocked to find Hongjoong already there, seemingly waiting for you.

“Hongjoong? What are you doing here?” You asked, climbing up properly before sitting down next to him.

“I had a feeling you’d come up here, it’s what you always do during a stressful situation,” He replied, giving you a soft smile, “I figured we should probably talk about things, especially given everything that’s going on. And there’s something I wanted to bring up with you, as well.”

“What’s that?”

“How the hell are we from the same kingdom but never knew each other until that day at the auction?” In all the chaos that’d happened, you’d almost forgotten that you and Hongjoong had found out you were from the same kingdom.

“Well, I was a princess, and I was locked away for a long time, so it’d make sense we’d never met,” You reasoned, “I remember hearing about people thinking my existence was a myth, I was seen so rarely.”

“But that’s the thing, we did meet before, remember?” Hongjoong recalled, “In which case, it would’ve had to been then. But not once do I ever remember hearing of a princess, a prince, certainly, but not a princess. At least, not while I was there. I left when I was twelve, so you would’ve had to been born after that for me to not remember you, and clearly, you weren’t.”

“I don’t know, Hongjoong,” You shook your head, “I don’t remember you either, it’s not like I had the opportunity to. I’m not sure how we met before, but you’re definitely right, it had to be then…”

“If I can be honest,” Hongjoong spoke after a beat of silence, “I had a dream last night. One I couldn’t explain. It was the day I stowed away aboard Eden’s ship, but it was different this time. Before, I’d always remember running away alone, but this time, there were two other children with me. One boy, one girl. I woke up before I managed to get her name, but I have a feeling I know who it is.”

“Me,” You whispered, “But how? I don’t remember running around with anyone but my brother, let alone helping someone stowaway on a pirate ship.” Things were silent between you two before you spoke up again, “How…. How did you end up on Eden’s ship, then? Maybe if you tell me, then I can remember.”

“Being completely honest, I don’t remember anything from around that time very vividly, and I don’t like to, either.” Hongjoong sighed, “I was a slave, no parents in the picture. I used to be beaten within an inch of my life almost daily until, as I remembered it, I finally got the guts to runaway and snuck onto Eden’s ship. He found me almost right away, of course, but somehow he decided I was worth keeping around and ended up becoming my mentor. But if my dream is truly what happened, then you and I assume your brother saved me.”

“My mother always went on about how I wasn’t allowed out of the palace because I caused a scene in town, but I could never remember exactly what the scene was, and she’d never tell me,” You frowned, “But if what you’re saying is true, then maybe… that’s the scene she was talking about? It’d be very much like her to be mad because I left a slave get away. But then wouldn’t my brother remember as well? He’s never mentioned anything of the sort.”

“Well, you have said you aren’t the closest, maybe he does and just never talked about it,” Hongjoong wondered, “All this is mere speculation, anyway, at least until we talk to Maddox again. Let’s just hope we’ll actually be able to get some answers out of him.”

“All this is so complicated,” You laughed out, a bit out of exasperation, “To think this all started because you saw me at an auction.”

“It is hard to believe,” He chuckled, “But I don’t regret it. Honestly, that was probably the best decision I’ve ever made. I can’t imagine my life without you in it now.”

Pushing down the fluttering feeling his words gave you, you responded, “Neither can I. I’m glad, at the very least, I can be back on this ship with you. …I’m sorry, by the way. About not keeping my promise not to leave.”

“It’s alright, you’re back now,” He shook his head, hugging you close to him, “I’ll just have to make sure the opportunity for you to leave never comes again, is all. I plan on keeping you with me for a very long time.”

“That’s good, because I plan on staying with you for a very long time,” You smiled, “And this time, I mean it. No more running off without your permission.”

“Great, since you nearly gave me a heart attack with that stunt,” Hongjoong exclaimed, exaggerating his relief, “We really do need to talk about this hero complex of yours.” “Sure, right after we talk about yours,” You shot back, making him laugh out loud, you joining in right after.

He shook his head, grin still on his face, “We really are too similar, at least in that regard.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” You replied, “Just means we’re protective. Not a bad trait to have, I think.”

“You’re right,” Hongjoong nodded in agreement, “It’s not. But what is a bad trait is staying up all night. Come now, we’ll need our rest now more than ever. Let’s go.”

“Right,” You agreed, making your way to the rope ladder, “Good night, Hongjoong. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N). I’m so relieved to hear you say those words again.”

“Why is it that whenever you come back lately, it feels as though you don’t have any good news?” Chunhei sighed, setting down Kangdae, who quickly ran his way up towards you.

“(Y/N)! You’re back!” The small boy cheered, making you giggle in amusement.

“Of course I am, I’m part of the crew now, remember?” You responded, kneeling down so he wouldn’t have to look up at you.

Jongho ignored the scene, answering his sister, “Unfortunately, good news seems to be rather hard to come across lately. Has anything new occurred while I’ve been gone?”

“I’ll fill you in as soon as you fill us in, you all look like you’ve gone through a war zone,” She joked, before her smile fell at seeing all your serious faces, “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“Get mom and dad,” Jongho said grimly, “We’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

As such, you soon found yourselves once again in Jongho’s living room, explaining everything to his parents and Chunhei. Once they’d heard you’d been kidnapped, Jongho’s mother gasped in shock.

“My god, (Y/N)! You aren’t hurt, are you?” She asked you, rushing over to you and checking for any major wounds.

“No, ma’am, I’m alright,” You chuckled slightly, “A little worse for wear, but nothing life risking. I’m healing up nicely thanks to Yeosang.” You could feel said boy straighten up beside you, likely gleaming with pride.

“That’s good to hear, dear, but if anything bothers you, come to me alright? I don’t like the thought of you being hurt,” She frowned, still looking over you just in case.

“I will, ma’am, thank you.” You agreed, satisfying her and making her sit back down. From there the explanation continued, and once you were done, you could hear a pin drop from how silent it was.

“Well,” Jongho’s father breathed out, “That’s a fine mess you’ve ended up in this time, eh, Pirate King?”

“It was inevitable anyway,” Hongjoong replied, “The Royal Navy’s been looking for a reason to start a full on war, we just beat them to the punch.”

“You do know this isn’t the same as the battles you’ve had in the past, do you?” Jongho’s father raised an eyebrow, “This is war. It’s not a simple business. There’ll be likely plenty of casualties, you might even be one of them.”

“I’m prepared to take on the consequences,” Hongjoong stated intently, “And it’s not like we’ll be going in alone. My mentor Eden has already agreed to meet us here, he’s on his way as we speak. He’ll likely arrive within the week.”

“We’ll also be going to visit Maddox, see if there’s any help he’s able to give us,” You chimed in, “It might not be much, but every bit of help counts.”

“Are you sure that’ll be enough?” Chunhei asked, looking extremely worried for her brother’s safety.

Hongjoong replied, “It’ll have to be. There’s not much else I can do, otherwise. But, I think it will be. I can’t quite explain it, but I have a feeling that things will turn out alright in the end.”

“Well, let’s hope that’s the case,” Chunhei sighed, “Oh, by the way, do any of you know a young girl around my age, Jiae?”

In a flash, Mingi’s head shot up, “Jiae? Did you say Jiae?”

“Yeah, she came in sailing a couple weeks ago looking for her older brother, said he was a pirate. And since you’re the only pirates I know, figured I might as well ask,” She shrugged, “Do you know her?”

“That’s my sister, what on earth is she doing here?” Mingi asked, urgency in his voice, “Is she still in town?”

“She’s staying in the inn in the town, I’ll go collect her for you! I imagine you likely wouldn’t like to have a reunion where people would be watching, especially since I’m sure you’d have much to talk about,” Chunhei got up making her way through the door, “I’ll be back as soon as I can! Hold tight, Mingi!” Once she was gone, you could see the way Mingi was starting to panic.

“Mingi, are you alright?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Nodding, he started to take deep breaths, “Yeah, yeah I’m alright. Just… I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting to ever see her again, and now she’ll be standing right in front of me soon. I don’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or say, or feel, and it’s all coming at me at once.”

“It’ll be okay,” You replied, grabbing his other shoulder to face you, “She’s been looking for you, so clearly she wants to see you. She’s likely missed you just as much as you’ve missed her, and she’s probably got the same thoughts going on in her head as you do. Just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and wait patiently. She’ll be here soon.” Mingi nodded again as he followed your advice, taking deeper breaths as the started to calm down.

It wasn’t too long after that a young girl, who you presumed to be Jiae, came running in, looking frantically, “Mingi!”

At once, Mingi was on his feet, rushing towards his sister until he was right in front of her, “Jiae!”

“Mingi!” In a second, Jiae had thrust herself into her brother’s arms, hugging him tightly as he returned it as much as he could, “I found you! Finally, I found you!”

“You did, you did!” Mingi beamed, pulling away to get a good look at her, “Look as how big you’ve grown! I can’t believe it…”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when we haven’t seen each other in years,” Jiae joked, tears coming to her eyes.

Mingi had his own tears as he asked her, “What are you doing here? What happened to mom and d-!”

“Dead,” She cut him off before he could finish, “They were blamed of piracy the same way you were, only they didn’t get so lucky. They deserved it, the rotten bastards, I’ve never forgiven them for how they framed you like that.”

“Who framed them?”

“Who indeed?” She answered back, “There’s a reason why I wasn’t framed either. I accused them anonymously, they never even had a clue. The minute they were hanged, I got on board a ship and made way to wherever I could that I could possibly find you. Anywhere that had a dock, I went on, looking for you as much as I could. Finally, all my searching’s paid off!”

“That was too dangerous,” Mingi frowned, hugging her close to him again, “But nonetheless, I’m glad to see you again, Jiae. I’ve missed you so much over the years, you’ve no idea.”

“Actually, I do have an idea, because I’ve missed you just as much!” She grinned, hugging him back just as tightly as before, “Now, care to introduce me to everyone?”

Eden arrived at the island within the week, just as was expected. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you felt a bit nervous at the thought of meeting him; this was essentially the man who raised Hongjoong, after all. You could only hope it went better than how him meeting your parents went down.

“What is Eden like, anyway?” You asked Seonghwa, standing next to him as you waited for the other pirate captain to board.

“Well, it’s a bit complicated,” Seonghwa tried to explain, “He’s not exactly the most agreeable person in the world, so you might not get along with him at first. But he’s a good man, truly, at least as good a man as a pirate can be.”

“That’s what you said about Hongjoong when I first came here,” You noted, “That he was a good man.”

“Where do you think he got it from?” This comment made you laugh a bit, “No, but you shouldn’t worry. Despite his attitude, Eden truly does care for Hongjoong and vice versa. The fact he’s meeting us here at all when it’d be in his best interest to stay away says so.”

“I see. Then it’ll be good to have him on our side,” You nodded, starting to feel less nervous.

It wasn’t long after until an older man with about shoulder length black hair appeared, a scowl on his face as he looked at Hongjoong and said, “And what a fine mess you’ve ended up in this time.”

“It’s not my fault!” Hongjoong instantly tried to defend himself, “I was simply just trying to protect my crewmate, they were the ones who declared war!”

“Yes, and whose wise idea was it to accept a princess as a crewmate, as if there wouldn’t be any consequences for it?” Eden raised an eyebrow, “You might be known as the Pirate King now, but I know I taught you better than that.”

“My god, you sound like his father,” You blurted out without saying, quickly covering your mouth as soon as you realized you’d spoken out loud.

“I’m not!” Eden argued.

“He’s not!” Hongjoong agreed.

“He is,” Wooyoung commented, the rest of both crews agreeing.

“Ignoring that,” Hongjoong turned away, trying to will away the red on his face, “It’s a more complicated situation than you think. I knew what the consequences were.”

“Tell me everything, then,” Eden ordered, “I’ll need a full rundown if we’re to have any chance of winning this fight.” After giving him a full explanation of everything that had transpired since you first boarded The Utopia, Eden nodded in understanding, “That’s quite a story. One I likely wouldn’t believe if it weren’t for the fact you were the one telling it to me, and I know you know better than to lie to me. So, what’s our plan of action then? Because me alone won’t give you the edge you need to win, though more numbers do help.”

“We’ll go back to Elysia and see Maddox,” Hongjoong stated firmly, “There’s bound to be at least some help he could give us. Having some sort of mystical help has to be some sort of leg up against the kingdom.”

“They’ve just lost an admiral, so that’s still a blow, even if only a minor one,” You added, joining the conversation, “And after that confrontation, I doubt they’ll be in the best mental state. Those are both advantages we can’t ignore.”

“But the same could be said of your mental state, Your Highness,” Eden responded, “How do we know you can keep your head clear and do what must be done to win this war?”

“Don’t call me that,” You warned, “I have no titles anymore. And don’t worry about me. I can handle this, especially since I’ve got the rest of the crew with me.” You could see Eden looking at you, seemingly scanning at you before looking back to Hongjoong as his eyes filled with what seemed like understanding.

“I see. Very well then,” Eden stated, turning back to Hongjoong, “You have me and my crew at your service. But don’t think that means you can order me around for no reason, I’m still your mentor.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, “Now, if nobody has any objections, let’s make our way to Elysia! We leave tomorrow morning at dawn!”

“I’ll go let my family know,” Jongho sighed.

Mingi spoke up, “I will, too. I have to let Jiae know what’s happening and why she might not see me for a bit.”

“You just reunited with her, you won’t take her with you?” Yeosang asked.

Mingi shook his head, “No, it’s too dangerous. She shouldn’t be anywhere near a war zone. After the war, then maybe I’ll see about having her join us. For now, though, she should stay with Jongho’s family where it’s safe.”

San agreed, “That’s smart. That way, she won’t be alone either, she’ll have people to talk to. Especially since she and Chunhei are around the same age.” While they continued on with that conversation, you couldn’t help but notice that both Seonghwa and Yunho were both being uncharacteristically distant, Seonghwa excusing himself from the conversation and Yunho’s mind seeming to be somewhere else. It was then you remembered that they were the only two of the crew left that you still didn’t really know that much about.

Maybe it was about time that you fixed that.

#ateez pirate au #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #hongjoong fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #yunho fanfic #yeosang fanfic #san fanfic #mingi fanfic #wooyoung fanfic #Jongho fanfic

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b612sunsets · 3 years

Note

Ahhh I’m happy to see someone else loving The Devil Judge - it truly is amazing 😭😭🖤✨ I love Yo-Han and Ga-on’s relationship I swear let them be destructive together!

I hate waiting for new episodes so please tell me one of your theories, it can be about anything! 🥰

Right?! I love it so much, it's really good to have our lilttle fam getting bigger, can't wait until it airs on Netflix, we will have even more people going crazy about it in here! (at least I hope it will become a Netflix series after the show ends like Beyon Evil - another love of mine) and yes, lawful husbands can be destructive together but only to the bad people pls 🥺

It's tough waiting for new episodes every weekend and at the same time I wish for it not to end so soon. It hasn't finished but I already want Jisung and Jinyoung in a second season or working together in another drama. Their chemistry on screen is too good to stop there

About the theories, there's a few I saw on reddit/twitter and I make my own based on it and after watching every episode, but I think it's too early to talk about them. However, since you requested it, there's some that come to mind as interesting enough to mention.

The fire and the story behind it narrated by Yohan

1- Some people think Yohan did start the fire because he found out about the dirty politicians real intentions and decided to destroy them all in the same place before Isaac could donate the money bc he is "a devil" and capable of that since he was a kid as told by the priest with the school incident and the nanny with the maid and dog thing. side note: not for pranking some kids who bullied him because that's all it seems like, right? But in terms of observing, thinking strategically and being one step ahead when needing to punish the whole classroom who wronged him even as young as he was and feeling satisfied while watching the result and staying out of it. A type of mentality probably encouraged by Isaac and the books he gave him to read, unlike a regular kid who would just fight back or endure it. And we still have to see if it really was Yohan that contributed to the maid's death or if it was something/someone else and the nanny thinks it was him.

They think that Elijah even saw him in front of the door right before the fire started and smiled at him instead of smiling at her parents, like she did in the gates of the cathedral in the previous scene, so that's why she hates him so much now because she can remember seeing him as the responsible for it. But Yohan didn't intend to kill/hurt Isaac and the rest of the family, thinking he could save them or something, and felt guilty that he couldn't do so. Some even said that Yohan delayed too much in trying to save them after entering the church and seeing Elijah getting her legs hurt, that it may have been shock but why would he remember everything and everyone so clearly if he was in shock?

It's a good theory but I have my own remarks: why wouldn't he tell Isaac about the politicians himself if he knew the dirty about them then? They had a close relationship and Isaac gave him books about punishment and everything, it wasn't like Isaac was too naive and wouldn't believe his half-brother. He wouldn't have donated if Yohan told him. "Oh he was being the devil and finding a way to punish them instead of just letting is slide and not donating" still, Yohan wouldn't risk Isaac and Elijah with such a dangerous plan if he could avoid having Isaac and Elijah at all in the destruction scene by telling Isaac about it. It could have been shock and Yohan wanting to look and commit to mind everyone's face in that day responsible for hurting his niece and not caring about anyone else but themselves, pushing him away and delaying his attempt to get to them in time, leaving Isaac and the family behind (after they almost donated them their money) and things like that. So he can avenge them now, like he did in the school with the kids. That's why as soon as he could, he canceled the donation in the most easy way by saying his brother wasn't sane enough to make that decision before dying.

There's also the theories about Isaac being the insane/evil one, which wouldn't surprise me because I've considered it since episode 3 but at the same time I'll not be touching that topic now and I don't know if I ever will unless proven otherwise in some other episode

2- The other theory I have and saw people discussing (the one I'm most inclined to believe because I'm Yohan biased but again it's too soon to be sure) is that the story Yohan narrated is mostly if not completely true and he experiences extreme guilt for not coming back and saving Isaac when the church collapsed on him, as seen in the character introduction by tvN translated in this tweet that we now know it's about Isaac:

The last words Yohan said to Isaac was that he was going to come back for him, so he experiences nightmares like the flashbacks we saw in episode 1 and that's why we don't see any scene of Isaac in the middle of the church after the fire staring at Yohan or during the fire and turning to stare directly at Yohan when he narrates it. Because they're dreams and his guilty conscience and he remembers them when looking at Gaon. The flashback of Yohan kneeling down and touching Isaac with Elijah's bear close to him could be after he got Elijah out from there and he went back to put the bear next to him kinda like a "Sorry for not coming back in time", a reassurance that his daughter for whom he died for is safe and will always stay with him, a "Goodbye". He wouldn't just let Isaac's body lying there, he would go back even if it was too late.

Another thing is that when Yohan is showing Gaon his scar after telling the story, there's a book fallen at his feet. I think it was the thing that fell when Yohan standed up from the table and choked Gaon (trying hard not to comment on that choking scene as a 🔥 Gahan moment for our delight and imagination bc that's not the point right now lol)

This is the book:

And the first page of this book says "Never again will a single story be told as though it's the only one." - John Berger

I searched about it and it can mean that never again will a story be told as if it's the only one that matters. It could also mean that never again will a story be so encompassing of the elements it tackles that no other story need be written about these elements. A story has many perspectives that cannot be understood by just a single viewpoint. Isn't that what this kdrama is all about?

One of the translations of what Yohan said after Gaon left was:

But there's also another version:

The meaning of what he said changes a bit depending on which translation is more accurate, more so when we add the book quote to the equation.

Kim Gaon and his connection to Kang Yohan

People think Gaon could be Isaac's relative in some way or just a look alike (I think it's just a look alike to contribute to Yohan's obsession/curiosity and their proximity from the start, that's why no one really comments on it, not even Gaon when he sees Isaac's picture). Dear God, let them not be related because it would make shipping our lawful husbands really strange, to say the least.

What I'd like to say and almost everyone is forgetting is that in the tvN character introduction we already have Gaon's past and know he wasn't always a goody two shoes, the man was a juvenile delinquent and can even fight (the rebellious phase he said he made the tattoo in episode 3?). He too sought revenge for his parents when he was 16 because they committed suicide after losing their money and being deceived by multi-level con artists posing as social service workers. But the teacher and Soohyun were able to hold him back.

Yohan's father could be one of the reasons for their death. He was a loan shark and might have lend them money after they lost it all and it caused them to have a great debt, that's why Yohan did a thorough research on Gaon and was interested in him (not only because he resembled his half-brother). They shared one enemy in common and maybe even a place (churches, Yohan's father tended to confess his sins in a church when his debtors killed themselves). Or Yohan might have researched about him at the time he knew Gaon was chosen to be the associate judge sitting on his left side instead of way before, because it's important to Yohan to know who he is dealing with and the dirty of their past if they have any. And then Yohan discovered everything and saw his picture and resemblance to Isaac.

The thing is: they have the same distrust/repulsion of powerful people who deceive the world and had a painful loss because of that. Both of them think they have the other exactly where they want but they get more confused about what it is that they really want from the other and get closer (as said in the summary of episode 5 that tvN released) while figuring it out. They will come to an understanding and probably join forces at some point. We saw it in the end of episode 4, the scene of episode 5 when Gaon says he can understand Yohan's pain but can't trust him if he doesn't tell him everything and then Yohan says Gaon needs to decide if he will get in his way or stay by his side. Gaon might go back to his rebellious days and stay with Yohan to seek revenge together while distancing himself from Soohyun and Jungho who prevented him from doing so

And that's about it! Thank you for your ask and hope my answer is satisfying enough! 💙 The hardest but also most awesome part is having to wait to see.

#the devil judge #answered asks #the devil judge theories #lawful husbands #gahan #analysis #the devil judge analysis

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magireco · 3 years

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Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)

1. Thank you!!!!!!

2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!!

3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to

First: Homura Akemi

okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs

Summary

first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc...

clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka...

this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?

anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.

i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...

i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.

anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation.

after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...

then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.

also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about

Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy

homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them.

homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...

In Defense Of My Own Claims

btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.

TL;DR:

homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!

#asks #luna-mistrunner #homura akemi #analysis #THIS MAY HABE TAKEN ME LIKE 2 DAYS ON AND OFF

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cosplayproblemsposts · 3 years

Text

Polkadot Man x M! reader Pt 2

Warning-Vent and a little bit of fluffy.

Summary: you manged to find out the truth but it didn’t help the fact you were still clinging onto something that has been proven true. Abner couldn’t help but comfort you even if you keep on rejecting every advantage. The thinker couldn’t help but feel a sense of justice but also a hint of guilt.

You sat within the bus eating girl scout cookies that you bought against Rick’s thoughts pressured on the cookies. “I can’t believe you actual bought girl scout cookies” Rick pondered on your childish behavior. “Your just jealous for your not stuffing your face” Rick rolls his eyes but smiles and gives you a fist bump.

Cleo grins for Rick stomach growls “And when was the last time you ate Rickie” you tease. Rick huffs and takes the offered cookies and says “Shut up” you hum. More boxes of girl scouts cookies are handed out to everyone expect Nanaue for he doesn’t eat such foods.

“I like strawberry” Abner mumbles to which cause you to trade over your strawberry for his chocolate ones. You gave him a sly wink to which cause him to hide his face with the help of the box.

“Hey why are you afraid of rats?” Cleo asks Robert while you moved and took a sit beside Abner. “Why are you so in love with them ratcatcher 2?, you know what I think?, I think you have serious case of daddy issues” you frowned at Robert. Robert isn’t exactly known as a expressive type and everyone can see it regardless how cold heart he is you know otherwise.

“I have no issues with how much I loved my father” Robert sighs “You remind me of my daughter that’s why I’m here”. You couldn’t help but smile while biting into a cookie. “Why are you afraid of rats?” Cleo once again asks the same question. “My old man. when I was a lad, if I didn’t finish a task right, he would dole out a punishment. And one day, he just locked me in a create for twenty-four hours. And it was full of starving rats”.

You sighed and whistled to gain Roberts attention and threw three cookies at him, he caught all three of them. “As imperfect my father was ,he loved me. I wish I could give that to you”. ‘Don’t worry yeah?, I’m gonna get you out of here alive” Cleo smiles “I’m going to get you alive out of here”.

“What about clock” you hummed “Your oddly quiet” Robert pips up “Oh yes whats your story”. Cleo smiles up at you while Abner turns his attention to how close you were. “I don’t want to bore anyone to death” Rick scoffs “Shut up and tell us, I’m all eyes and ears” you frown at him.

“Uh...where do I start, I was born in may the 18th 1918″ you thought of how you lost your mother. “My mother died after bring me into the world. I was small but strong while my father walked out of my mothers life the moment he found out she was pregnant”. Cleo frowns “So my granddad took me in so all I knew was that I had to live through a time era where if you were caught crying even a little your shamed for it”. Abner places a shy but comforting hand on top of yours “I was different I knew that but different made me strong and I reached for knowledge”.

“I found it easier to keep to myself until Benjamin came along in shape of defending me” you chuckled a little. “He is my childhood friend who glued himself to me from the very beginning, you see we both grew up in the back houses” Cleo frowns out of confusing. “That is what we called them, it’s just houses that were mistaken for apartments” Cleo nods. “I remembered getting into fights with older boys and I was an idiot for believing that I’ll win but I never did” Chris now understand why you protect Abner.

“But I ain’t no coward for I didn’t run away from a fight other then that the old crow wouldn’t let it go” Robert chuckles or something like that. “I would come home all scruffy every two weeks to the crows dismay” Rick nods. “Years past and I was top of my class even tho I caused trouble and had been caned for it” Abner winces at the thought of it. “I enrolled into university but halfway through my second semester I dropped out to join the air force in 1939 August the 18th” you had to take breath. “I had trained enough to find myself within the sky in the midst of 1942 defending my country” you found yourself growing a pit in your stomach and you felt like vomiting.

“I was battling above a filed like nothing had gone wrong in the first place, the very Nazi manged to slash me out of sky” Robert doesn’t know anything about the air force but can see it. “I found myself hurrying to my death until an enemy pilot collided with me but I didn’t meet death instead I found myself two days before the whole entire event”. “Other then that when the fall of Poland had happened I had to be the last to know” You squint at the box of chocolate cookies before you.

“Around the time Benjamin had been set off to Poland and hadn’t returned so when I had been shipped off to Poland, I searched for him” Robert clears his throat. “I think that’s enough” Robert could tell that you didn’t want to go any farther with your side of the story. Abner squeezes your hand and when you notice you move your hand from his to which caused him to shutter away.

“Hey penis-maker, we’re on a mission” Chris makes a face “Easy inspector gadget. A little drink never hurts nobody”. You frowned at the idea but you really need a pick me up so you gone with the flow. “Expect the thousands of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year” Abner commented. You stare at him and could tell he was still a little hurt from you moving away from him.

“Here’s to last three hours of being alive” Robert didn’t agree “I’ll be alive. You speak for yourself”. You drank your drink like a shot and didn’t hesitate to ask for another. You find yourself laughing and watch as Abner gag on his drink to which cause you to pat his back. “Easy there dots, you want to be somewhat sober” Abner nods.

Everyone found themselves dancing with the music blazing in the background. You watch them fail at one of the most simplest thing in the world and you couldn’t help but laugh. “C’mon Y/N join us” Abner spoke while holding out a hand. “No you guys got it handle, I’ll just get in the way” you weren’t an upbeat dancer your more of slow dance type of guy. “No your not, you need this too” You smiled but caved in “Fine”. You took a last swig of your drink before standing up to dance with him.

You held onto Abner’s waist from behind and dance with him, for the truth you weren’t that bad. Abner sways his hips in synced with yours and you couldn’t help but evolve your arms around him. Swaying with your face just a few inches off from his right shoulder. You held his hand and kept on swaying while the both of you smile and laugh. You tugged him back to which cause him to look down at you, you grin and “Damn you are one dish”. Abner frowns out of confusion but by your grin it must be a good thing.

Abner turns around and stares down at you and without warning he captures your lips with his. You stood thunderstruck but kiss back after a few seconds, it never accrued to you how soft his lips were. How gentle and shy he can be, how easy a red tent grows across his cheeks. He had to be the most sweetest thing you ever had met. Far too sweet, Abner had to be the number one candy in the world.

The two of you pull away with a small smiles on each other faces. You hum and kept on swaying to the music until Cleo poke Abner side. “Sorry for breaking you two up but you gonna have to focus for his here” you look and saw The thinker himself. You nod before parting from Abner to keep an eye on the weirdo over at the bar with Robert pressing a gun to his side.

But now here your with this odd looking man making a way to the back door with him mouthy off. “If you think that big mouth of yours is gonna save you sadly think again” he hums at your words. “Your the 1940′s guy right” you grow surprised “Pardon” he just smiles. You push through to the back only to see half-naked women “Sorry Loves we just want to get by” they screamed of course.

A solider turns to us but Cleo makes a rat shove it’s way into his mouth to which cause you to frown. “Ah geez now you don’t see that everyday” you watch the man squirm while the others moved on. “Now that is nasty” the man reach a hand out to you but you declined his odd muffles for help. “Sorry mate it’s more like a you problem” he still lays there until he just stop moving. You made a face “Oh my goodness that’s fucking gross” you watch the rat scurry off somewhere else. You flinch when the rat doubled back and ran pass your right shoe “Ugh, fuck no” you shiver “Y/N!” you hear Milton call out.

“That was a gross way to die” Cleo only sighs “I’m sorry if that creep you out”. “No I didn’t mean it in that way for it was unexpected” Cleo looks up at you and smiles. You can tell she is still jumping “Welp weirdo how does it feel to be here” the man only grins. “Benjamin called out to you but you never came” you glare at him and kicked him. “Y/N” Abner spoke softly “Don’t his just lying” you frown and said “Yeah, his just lying”.

“Look Abner about before I..” you were cut off “don’t worry about it we all have our ups and downs”. “For I killed my mom” you frown and by his very life you can tell he had done it for the greater good. “I know Abner and I’m truly sorry” Abner smiles and lays his head on your right shoulder. “Num Num” Nanaue says so you groaned “No, he isn’t Num Num’s” Nanaue seems disappointed.

Abner cuddles into your right side “Hey Abner” he hums “What are you gonna do once your free”. For the truth Abner doesn’t know himself “I don’t know” you smile. “You can see the rest of England with me then” Abner smiles and says “I’ll like that. Cleo came and said “Hey can I join” you smile and move over for her to join. She took your left while Abner has your right, Weirdo looks at you three before he started pondering over his own life.

“Okay so operation Harley” Rick says to each of us while we all nod.

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I know I said two-parts but I’m gonna stop here for now.

#Polka-dot man x male reader #the suicide squad x male reader

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engie-ivy · 3 years

Note

do you have a fic where remus confronts Sirius of believing he was the spy (like maybe canon divergence - they all live) and refuses to agree that just because there was a war doesn’t mean he should’ve not trusted him or used the excuse that he’s a werewolf not to believe him

Hi!

I have fics that deal with the suspicions and false accusations during the war! But these do take on a more Fluffy path, and eventually lead to them being understanding and forgiving of each other's behaviour😅

You might like the confrontation in

If Tomorrow the World Crumbles

“Well, what am I supposed to bloody think, then?” Sirius shouted back. “You’re obviously keeping things from me! How is this sketchy behaviour going to make anything better? Why couldn’t you just come talk to me, so you could have proven that you’re not-”

“Because I shouldn’t have to proof anything to you!” A hint of pain was seeping through in Remus’s frustration. “All my life I’ve had to proof myself to everyone, and all my life I’ll have to continue proving myself, simply because of what I am, but not to you. Never to you. You’re supposed to believe in me! You’re the one person who’s supposed to be on my side.”

And here's an excerpt from my longer fic

If Only You Knew the Whole Story

He’s sitting in a chair. His arms are handcuffed behind his back and his ankles are chained to the legs of the chair. Protective spells are placed around him, making it impossible to come any closer than half a meter in his vicinity, though there isn’t much he could even do without his wand. His long, dark hair is tied in a messy bun with loose strands falling over his face, and he still has the muggle clothes on he was wearing when he got arrested.

He’d been wearing muggle clothes a lot. When James teased him about it, he told him to go try and ride a motorbike in flapping wizarding robes and then come talk to him. No one particularly minded seeing him in tight fitted muggle clothes anyway, as the man has always been unfairly good-looking.

He looks up as Emmeline enters the room, his grey eyes empty and emotionless.

Sirius Black.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. You seemed rather pissed off when you left the last time.”

“I’m pissed off at you by default. But I did some fact-checking on your previous claims.”

Black rolls his eyes. “If you looked him up in the Animagus register, I could have told you-”

“Actually, I went to a more direct source.”

“Hello, Black.” Remus steps in the room, his eyes focused somewhere on the logo on Black’s worn-out band shirt, deliberately not meeting Black’s eyes, his mask of indifference firmly in place. Emmeline understands his need to not show any emotion in front of Black.

Black’s face, on the other hand, is a whole different story. It’s hard to imagine his eyes were so void of emotion just a moment ago, as a variety of emotions passes over his face.

Disbelief. Hope. Fear. Guilt. Pain.

When he speak, soft and barely audible, his voice sounds so broken that it sends a shock through Emmeline’s body. She can tell Remus feels the same, as his eyes snap up to Black’s face.

“Remus? Please...”

“I messed up, Remus. I messed up so bad. But if only you knew the whole story-”

“You’re going to tell me the whole story,” Remus interrupts, his voice cold and bitter. “The real story.” He opens his palm to reveal the small flask of Veritaserum.

Now, Emmeline was expecting anger. Anger as Black would realise he wouldn’t be able to make up stories anymore. Anger as he saw his plans of manipulating Remus with his lies go up in smoke. Emmeline may have understood shock, that they would actually dare to force him to take the truth potion, or maybe even panic, now that his ploy is officially over.

What Emmeline did not expect, however, was the look of sheer hope on Black’s face, like he’s a dehydrated man who has been wandering the dessert for days and Remus is holding a glass of fresh, cold water.

“Yes,” he says pleading. “Yes, please...”

It completely catches Emmeline off guard, and she can tell Remus is also thrown off. He stares at Black dumbfounded and seems unsure what to do next. He fumbles with the flask, opening it and sliding it across the table towards Black.

As they can’t get near Black with the protective charms surrounding him, Emmeline doesn’t know what they would have done of he had simply refused to drink the potion, but then again, that would have said enough of itself, wouldn’t it? Now, however, Black wastes no time in bending forward, taking the flask between his lips and throwing his head back, gulping the potion down.

After Black has dropped the empty bottle back on the table, he sits motionless in his chair, his eyes closed. Remus is staring at him intently, his mouth in a hard line and his knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the edge of the table. The moment can’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Despite all her talk about only doing this for Remus, not believing anything will come of it, Emmeline feels nerves coursing through her body. There’s a heavy tension hanging in the room and the air feels thick. Emmeline can only imagine what this moment must be like for Remus.

After what seems like hours, Black slowly opens his eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

So few words hardly more than a whisper, but their impact couldn’t have been greater if he had shouted them in their faces.

Remus’s legs threaten to give out from under him and he supports himself on the table, staring at the wood while gasping for air.

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me.” Black repeats the words like a mantra.

Remus lifts his head, and upon seeing the pain, hope and confusion on his face, Emmeline wants to run to him, support him and start questioning Black, but at the same time she feels like she needs to stay out of it for now, this needs to be between them.

“What wasn’t you?” Remus breathes. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Everything. Any of it. The murders, the betrayal. Rem, I wasn’t even the Secret-Keeper!”

“But... But...” Remus tries desperately to order his thoughts. “Peter?”

Black nods silently.

Remus shakes his head. “No, no. James insisted! He would never choose anyone but you!”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Black replies as he shifts his gaze downwards, sadness reflecting in his eyes. “Not until I convinced him to. Merlin, I thought I was so clever! A perfect way to throw them off track. Who would even consider it being anyone else?”

“But you told me it was you! Those evenings we spent talking about it...”

“I lied! I lied to you, Remus.”

Remus stares at him for a while. “You didn’t trust me.” It’s not a question.

“We knew there was a spy,” Black says, looking absolutely miserable. “We just didn’t know who.”

“And I was the logical choice,” Remus states. “I assume because I’m a dark creature?”

“Yes. It was because you’re a werewolf.” Black looks Remus straight in the eyes. “Because you have fifteen years of experience keeping secrets and hiding who you are. And you’re so damned good at it! Better than anyone I know. Dumbledore always chose you for the most secret missions. You were the only one amongst us no one had any idea of where they were going or what they were doing.”

“That wasn’t by choice!”

“I know, I know. Remus, you have to understand. We didn’t think you were the traitor, we just couldn’t be absolutely sure that you weren’t the traitor.”

Remus swallows and looks away. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I felt with every fibre of my being that I could trust you and you would never hurt us!” Black speaks. “But at that time, I couldn’t allow myself to feel, I had to think. And logical thinking, shutting off all emotion, said that none of us could say with one hundred percent certainty that it wasn’t you. With Harry’s life at stake, we couldn’t afford to take any chances. It was best not to tell.”

Remus nods, but he’s still not meeting Black’s gaze.

“Remus, please look at me,” Black says earnest. “I need you to know this. We still would have died for you in a heartbeat, Lily, James and me. We still thought the world of you.”

“But I thought the worst of you!” Remus’s breath hitches. “I despised you, wanted to hate you! If I had found you that night, I would have...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, doesn’t need to.

Black doesn’t look shocked, or even angry. He just looks immensely sad.

“Why wouldn’t you have? I fucked everything up, Remus. I lied to you, I trusted the wrong people, I distrusted the wrong people, I convinced James to take a path that lead straight to his death. And I can’t even do the only thing James asked me to do in case the worst would happen! I can’t even take care of Harry, like I promised I would. I abandoned him in my failed attempt at revenge, another one of my numerous mistakes. I literally can’t think of a single thing I haven’t screwed up these last weeks.”

Remus just stares at him. Only after a long silence, he speaks.

“You really are... you.”

Black just blinks at him.

“I mean, the boy who snuck out of the dorm to keep me company in the hospital wing, the boy who bribed the house elves to make my favourite chocolate cake on my birthday, the man who wanted me to stay with him when I had no place to live and never let me go, the man who once attacked five Death Eaters on his own because one of them had tried to use the Cruciatus curse on me... That person was not a facade, an act or a lie. That person was really you. You’re really that person.”

“Telling you I was the Secret-Keeper was hard for me, as it was the first and only time I ever lied to you, I promise.”

“I know,” Remus slides down in the chair across from Black. “And it’s okay, Sirius. It’s okay.”

Sirius closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them again to look at Remus, they’re filled with relief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’s just... You’re the only person who I couldn’t bear to see me as a monster.”

Remus smiles softly. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

I hope you still like it, though it might not be exactly what you're looking for!

#thanks for the ask!#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #first wizarding war

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poliel · 3 years

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Fix-It Deaths: Floofty

Content warning: this fic contains major character death.

I had the idea to do this way back when I first played through the bad ends and got disappointed by Floofty's reaction to Shelda's deaths and vice-verse as well as Cromdo and Beffica's reaction to each other's death, and the fact that when one of the Fizzlebean siblings died, the other has no reaction to it whatsoever. I'd drifted away from the idea, pulled by other ideas for this fandom as well other fandoms, but as I said in the summary, the horror of it fits for the darker side of the Halloween spirit so I returned.

As of right now I only have two of these written, this one and the one where Shelda dies. I was supposed to start the Beffica chapter tonight but, uh, it ain't happening. That should be fine though, I have the whole month practically to finish the last two chapters. I make no promises though, other than to try my best, my main focus for Halloween is art so it might not happen.

Happy first day of Halloween regardless though.

Being proven right about bugsnax would’ve been a wonderful moment under almost any other circumstance. But as it as, Shelda only desperately wished she’d been wrong instead.

“I feel our decision to split up was a mistake,” Floofty said as they fired the fist, knocking a serious of snax back to splat into the ground more due to luck and the density of them than actual aiming skill.

“One is in agreement for once.” Shelda’s only weapon was a hoe stolen from somewhere after the first wave had come out of the ground. It had been fairly easy to push it back. This second wave though, not so much.

Shelda held the right flank while Floofty guarded their left. Even so they were being driven back, step by step until… Shelda gasped as her back pressed against the rough wooden boards of the barn’s wall. On one hand they couldn’t be attacked from behind, on the other though they had nowhere left to go.

The ground rumbled and shook again, throwing off Floofty’s next shot, making it miss utterly this time. Almost as if sensing the opening more bugsnax grew out of the ground and pressed in.

“Back foul toxins, back!” Shelda screeched as she swung her hoe, whacking a couple strawbys away.

Floofty let out her own wordless battle cry. But Shelda couldn’t afford to pay attention to them. She just had to trust them to hold off the snax on that side much like how they were doing for her. Neither of them were going die here today, Shelda simply would not allow it. They were going to make it through and later once they were safe and sound on the mainland again she was going to make sure Floofty never forgot that she was right and they were wrong.

So, abandoning her pacifism for the first time since she’d taken that vow, she went to town with the hoe. Smashing anything that dared approached until her hoe was bent and dripping in various bugsnax juices. She kept going on even as her arms started to ache and burn, her breathing ragged and heavy.

Oh grumping fuck, how many more could there be? Surely they had to stop coming eventually, right? Hopefully help would come before…

Floofty let out a cry of distress. They’d fallen to their hands a knees, either knocked down by an aggressive snac or lost balance some other way, didn’t matter. They were given no time to even try to right themself before they were swarmed completely.

The bugsnax covered every inch of them as they crawled up and forced their way into their mouth. They choked, gagged, and sputtered, flailing their paws uselessly underneath the mass of bugsnax.

With a vicious snarl, Shelda went at them, whacking as many away as she could. But… all the bugsnax had stopped going for her, instead focusing on the easier already down target. There were too many and they just kept coming. Even if she’d been in her prime, there wasn’t much more Shelda could’ve done.

Far too soon the gagging and sputtering spotted, as did the flailing. The bugsnax pulled back, revealing Floofty, or what was left of them. Their snakified flesh was… oozing off them, revealing white bone underneath as it melted into the ground.

Shelda turned and gagged, probably the only thing keeping her from vomiting was the fact that she hadn’t eaten in a while. Before she could recover the bugsnax were swarming her next, climbing up her legs. This was it, now it was her turn. She was going to share the same fate as…

A very well aimed shot from the fist canon knocked the snax off her chest. She gasped, looking over to see Buddy already aiming their next shot. With no time to thank them, she burst back into motion, quickly knocking the rest of the snax crawling up onto her off.

For whatever reason, the flow of snax was slowing. Allowing Buddy to quickly clear a path, freeing Shelda.

“Go back to the airship,” they said, not even looking at her as they continued to keep the bugsnax away.

“But what about…” Shelda glanced at what was left of Floofty. Just a pile of bones where once, just a matter of minutes ago, there had been a full living breathing grumpus. How was it even possible for someone to be there and then gone in such a short amount of time? No one deserved such a fate, not even them… especiallynot them. “If nothing else we should at least…”

“No time,” Buddy interrupted with a slight growl. “Get out of here now before they start swarming again.”

Shelda’s suggestion that they should gather up Floofty bones for a proper burial later died on her lips. Buddy was right, as much as Floofty deserved at least that, they didn’t have time. Shelda was beyond spent and sticking around while Buddy protected her was only holding them back from rushing off to potentially help the others. So… she tore her gaze away and turned to run back towards the airship.

She encountered a few bugsnax on the way back but nothing she couldn’t just run past. Filbo greeted her as she reached the ship but she ignored him as she made her way over to the ship’s cabin. She didn’t go in though, instead sinking to the deck and leaning back against its wall.

Don’t think about it. …. Don’t think about it. … Don’t think about it. … But in all her years and having known many people who were gone now, she’d never witnessed anyone she’d known well die violently. She’d never known someone who’s death she could’ve possibly prevented. If she’d managed to get the snax off Floofty or hold them off entirely for just a little longer than Buddy would’ve arrived in time to save both of them.

Such an awfulway to go too. And the two of them been starting to get along, sort of anyway. But now that was all gone. All of everything that made up Floofty was gone forever. All of the scientific achievements and discoveries their brilliance might’ve led to in the future to help the world and grumpkind was never to be.

It was unwise to dwell on such things, she’d learned that a long time ago. But despite that and all her years and supposed wisdom, her thoughts circled on it anyway.

Snorpy and Chandlo arrived on the air ship next, Snorpy huffing and puffing from the run, though Chandlo looked a little spent too. Oh no. Shelda would have to tell Snorpy about Floofty. … Not now though. Let him not have to bear the knowledge of how horribly his sibling had died for just a little while longer.

But alas, as soon as he was done checking in with Filbo on the airship’s engine, a process that took only a few seconds, he and Chandlo turned and made their way over to stand before Shelda.

“Floofty was with you, right?” Snorpy wasted no time getting to the point, huh? “When I was running to help Chandlo, I’m sure I saw them with you. So… where are they?” His expression was confused as he looked around the ship, seemingly the thought of the worst having happened hadn’t even occurred to him yet.

Shelda took a breath, intending to spout some ‘wisdom’ that would really be just gobbledygook meant to obscure the bad news and hide it for a little longer. But… no, now wasn’t the time for that. “They’re dead.”

His face dropped like a stone. “What?”

Chandlo’s expression almost mirrored his. “Nuh-uh, no way they’re dead… right?” He looked at Shelda as if she could somehow take those words back and make them not true. If only she had such powers.

She could only shake her head. “I tried to save them. I really did but… it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”

For a moment Snorpy looked like he was going to say something but ultimately just shook his head and turned away as he shrunk in on himself. Chandlo followed as he went to the other corner to grieve in.

“Wait! Floofty’s really dead?” Filbo cut in. To his credit though he remained by his post.

“Yes,” Shelda said. “Now be quiet about it.” The last thing anyone needed was Filbo being Filbo about this.

“Oh uh… okay.” He shrunk in on himself too and turned away once more. “Sorry Snorpy about… I guess you probably don’t want to listen to me about it but… sorry. … I’ll shut up now.”

And this was only the beginning of having to tell everyone about Floofty. Well at least the hardest part was out of the way. Hopefully everyone else would make it back to the airship okay.

#my writing #bugsnax #floofty fizzlebean #shelda #floofty & shelda #major character death

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chrysalispen · 3 years

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pursuit/predation (zenoswol)

This was a lot of fun LMAO I hope you all enjoy reading as much as i did writing it! Commission for @noxi-lumi featuring their WoL, Raziela Undeni <3

NSFW under cut. CW for mildly violent imagery (it is Zenos, after all).

======

Two and a half fulms below the angled opening of his makeshift bolthole, Zenos yae Galvus peered up at the sky with a borrowed face to watch the storm that had raged for two days. The levin-aspected aether in the northern hinterlands of Gyr Abania often lent itself to violent thunderstorms, with static bursts that rendered the escarpment too hazardous to cross. There were waypoints in the mountains to seek shelter from the weather but he had eschewed them, thinking that the fewer encounters to detain (and bore) him, the better.

He had ever chafed at forced inactivity, but all in all, Zenos reasoned, this was but a temporary setback. Man was a beast bred for hunting, a pursuit predator, and he was nothing if not the pinnacle of that ideal. He would do as his ancient ancestors had done: bide his time and await his next opportunity. Once the storm had spent itself, he could go.

He whistled the opening bars of a parade ground march under his breath - a low and toneless sound like loch winds moaning around the corners of sandstone - and let his eyes fall shut.

Seconds and minutes passed as an age. Bereft of aught else to entertain him, his thoughts turned to his memories of the Eorzeans’ champion: that wild creature of sword and spell. Eikon-slayer. Saviour of the savages, so-called. Epithets overheard from idle barracks' chatter, although Zenos set little stock in the distinction between his own kind and the rest of the world as others did. Garleans bled the same, quailed in fear the same, and died screaming the same as any savage, and she had long since proven her mettle to his satisfaction. She strode the world as he did, towering above her fellows, a beast without peer.

He still recalled with crystal clarity the day they had met. Then he had barely paid mind to her paltry attempts to halt his advance; countless enemies had attacked him out of fear or desperation to stave off the inevitable, after all. Even so, he had seen neither of those things in their hero's magenta eyes. A grim sort of determination, to be sure; the steely resolve he would expect of one well-versed in the path he walked himself- but no fear.

There had been another emotion which he still couldn’t quite define, the faintest flicker of something. Curiosity, mayhap. His own exultation in the heat of the fight, mirrored in her mien. A reflection of himself, some alternate path he had never chanced to walk.

Whatever it was he had seen that day, it had moved him to spare her life.

And how right he had been to do it. She was worth a score of tribunes on her own-- fivescore, if the truth be told. Had she agreed to his proposal, or had he kept his word rather than indulge his lust for violence in that precise moment…

How very different things might have been.

Well, perhaps, he amended. They each had their parts to play. But upon the stage of his imaginings, anything was possible. There he could entertain to his heart’s content his fantasies of his friend returned to him, stronger still for her own tribulations.

He meant to duel her again and had no doubt she would oblige him. The prospect of it did not deter him; no, he yearned for the excitement of it. The surge of heat through the veins with each perfectly executed step, air burning the throat and whistling in the lungs, the ever-present specter of death looming over one’s shoulder-- what was violence, in truth, but a dance? Were not those dances with the most precarious, most intricate of steps best enjoyed with a partner of comparable skill?

In the end that was what he had seen in her: a worthy partner, at long last. Whether to stand at his side or to test her blade against his, he would accept both, but to fight his most precious friend once more, to recapture that kindled flame-- that would be a fine thing.

Oh yes, that would be quite fine indeed.

Remembered delight shuddered its way across the surface of his skin, a delicious and almost delicate frisson that bored its way down his spine to curl and tighten in the pit of his belly. Zenos was no stranger to lust; since his majority plenty of his lessers had used their bodies to curry his favor for some petty reason or other, with naught in their hearts save ambition and fear. Carnal knowledge was both prosaic and vulgar, rutting the sole province of mindless beasts, and it had not taken him long to decide that such matters held little of interest or value to him.

But this sweet and languorous warmth, like honey in a well-steeped tea-- he realized that he did not mind it so very much. It reminded him of the menagerie, and his last sight of her before he had opened his own throat and bled out into the flowers. Joy, pure and transcendent.

Yes, he decided; this pleased him.

With a soft grunt Zenos shifted his hips. The motion left him keenly aware of the physical evidence of his arousal against the mild rise below his navel, where it strained against twin cages of cloth and leather for freedom. That spreading ache was not a sensation entirely alien to him, but it did strike him strange how very aware it made him of this borrowed body on such a base level. Heat and hyperawareness punctured the fine invisible layers of his detachment with the pinpoint precision of a sewing needle through linen.

His eyes fell shut once more in a series of slow and lazy blinks: a contented feline drowsing atop a fresh kill.

He settled one hand over the seam of his breeches where the fabric was pulling taut and palmed himself, running his fingers lazily along the firm ridge his cock had formed beneath the thick weave. If he paid heed only to those slow and teasing strokes, he could convince himself that it was her, touching him so intimately---her hand dragging those sharp and immaculate nails he had glimpsed up and down his length. Scratching their points with calculated ease along the underside of his shaft, applying just enough pressure through the fabric to leave tiny trails of fire in their wake.

A soft groan rumbled deep in his chest, and Zenos tilted his chin back so as to rest his head against the rock, thighs spreading to accommodate his girth. What would she do, he mused, should she chance to see him caught in the web of his own desire? Driven to distraction by the mere thought of her, the very picture of the animal in full rut which he had so scorned?

The irony of it would amuse her, he had no doubt about that. Perhaps she might grin at the spectacle.

Perhaps she would even laugh. He presumed to imagine it, a sight and sound he had yet to experience. A wicked, throaty peal of mirth. The toss of short sable locks, the tilt and swivel of long tufted ears, the stretch of her long and graceful neck as she tossed her chin. Grinned at him, feral and dark, that smile he so loved to see before her inevitable riposte.

Savagery to rival his own, swathed in leather and crimson.

So thinking, Zenos’ fingers drifted upward of their own accord, straying from the insistent need betwixt his opened thighs to work at the waistband of his breeches instead.

Lashes fluttered like a courtesan’s fan at the edges of angular cheekbones, suffused with color and dewy with a light band of sweat despite the chill within his shelter. In his mind’s eye, she straddled him as her clever fingers worked the buttons and laces that bound him fast, impatient to pluck her prize from its confines. He fancied he could feel the contained heat of her core against his leg even through the barrier of her smalls, burning as though the sun itself had branded him.

When he raised himself to pull the offending fabric to his knees, it was she who closed her hand about his cock, grasping him just a touch too snugly. Her thumb stroked tiny circles over the foreskin as the shaft lunged eagerly within the cage of her palm; he could almost hear a hum of low-pitched approval. Each stroke she made eased the smooth, hot skin to retract and expose his crown: deeply flushed, its tip already glistening with precum. Zenos sighed, his borrowed body rocking upward to thrust into her hand, seeking friction to accompany that narrow squeeze. Anything would do, really. Except he needed--

Shallow breaths rasped unsteadily in the close space as he slicked his palm with his own saliva, grimaced, then took himself in hand once more.

Wet heat and resistance alone nearly undid him. His startled inhalation made a sharp and rasping echo that he barely heard, lost as he was in his fantasy. She had shed her duelist’s garb, laid herself bare to embrace him with long and powerful thighs, like velvet-wrapped steel. He shuddered at the effort it took to control himself, to let gravity carry her down to sheathe him in her depths, to let her move atop him to counter his thrusts with her own: a beautiful beast with lips for kissing and teeth for tearing. She laid both to work upon his throat and his shoulders with each upward snap of his hips-- drank deep of him, and he of her, until his stomach ached from ribcage to groin with unrelieved tension.

Violence in its own sense, he thought. A dance most intimate, and as real and as pure as the day they had parted.

“Yes, my beast,” he hissed aloud. The sibilant sound of his pleasure rose and reverberated around him, a chorus of empty whispers. “Just so.” His free hand fisted in a handful of loose gravel and his mouth fell slack and the spare limbs and lean angles of this unfamiliar vessel, all wrong, not his, arched like a bowstring. His heels dug into unyielding rock rather than bedsheets for purchase. Her fingers entwined with his, sharp nails grazing his knuckles, tiny cuts to blend with the myriad small scars left by

(hunting. a pale silver-white web of scar tissue in the center of his left palm - his true vessel's left palm - where his fourteen-year-old self pierced it with a crystal. a parting gift to the first man he ever killed. its tendrils radiate outward between each of his fingers like the cracks made in a pane of shattered glass)

arrows and fletching. She was close; he fancied he could hear the labored rattle of her breathing with each small moan she made. Bracing her weight against his torso and balancing upon his thighs to bounce, sounds only he could hear tumbling from imaginary lips parted and glistening, her cunt flexing about him like a silken vise as she approached the edge of release and swept him along like an incoming tide--

--and the pressure in his groin dropped, at last, and when he spilled, his seed splashing over his frantically moving fist and locked fingers and onto the muscled slope of his exposed belly, it was her name which fell from his lips, not hero or beast but Raziela, Raziela.

Long moments passed before he opened his eyes, chest heaving and fingers numb and loosely wrapped about his spent cock, still pulsing beneath his touch. The syllables of her name seemed to echo in his ears, a mantra to recite to himself until he had locked it into his memory to recall at a whim.

He waited in patient silence, willing his pulse to slow and his lungs to expand in an unhurried rise and fall. There was a low rumble from the opening of his shelter and after long moments, a flicker of lightning. The storm was passing and with it the levinstrikes. He would be able to move soon.

With movements as slow and languid as a sleepwalker’s, Zenos reached for the belt he had removed upon entering the cave and dug through its pockets until he found something that would serve as a washcloth. His gaze, as he wiped himself down and rearranged drab layers of linen and oilcloth into some semblance of order, was very far away, fixed upon the thinning clouds and the wheel of stars beyond. The moon hung low in the sky, bloated and orange.

I wonder where you are, my friend, he thought. If you have given thought to our meeting at all.

“Raziela,” he whispered once more, as if testing the sensation of her name on his tongue. In the darkness of the cavern, his eyes glittered like a hungry cat’s.

It was only a matter of time before they were reunited; he would make certain of it. Once he had regained his true form, they would have their dance. A grand reunion upon a great stage, two stars to burn bright, and oh, there would be such a burning. To capture this bliss and relive it with her-- he would give anything in his power, and the very star itself would tremble at their union.

When he emerged from the cavern at last to clear skies and a still night, the moon hid its face behind a passing cloudbank like prey that had caught his scent. And within the bounds of his stolen vessel, Zenos yae Galvus smiled to see it.

#zenos yae galvus #zenos/wol #spicy character studies

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alyafae-a · 2 years

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she already had a bad feeling the moment they got separated. deep down she knows she should have made sure they would stick together; she doesn’t think zhaban to be incapable of taking care of himself but she won’t deny that she feels better being able to keep an eye on him. she should have known things would go south. . . . “Zhaban ( @tongowheel ) has died.” they ( anonymous ) tell her and for a moment laris is sure her heart stops beating. . . . for a moment, she feels as if the whole world, the whole universe stops. there had been countless times she thought she was going to lose him ( many times she’d think he would lose her now as well ) but there has always been the relief of being proven wrong. not this time. her heart aches and she clenches her jaw. sorrow spreads through her body, it is overwhelming. but laris is composed as always, more tense, but she doesn’t like to show what this information does to her. “ i want to see him, ” is all she says, not thinking she could say anything else, not does she want to. her heart is breaking and the last thing on her mind is a conversation with this stranger. “ i want to see him. ” she hisses when no one makes a move and suddenly someone steps forward to take her to him.

laris isn’t ready for this, she don’t think she could ever be, but deep in her heart she knows she needs this moment. needs to see him one more time. say all the things she didn’t have the chance to tell him before. and then she sees him. he looks peaceful and if it weren’t for the blood staining his clothes she could have assumed he is merely asleep. she knows better. moving closer, she kneels down next to him, waiting for the stranger to leave before she reaches out to place her hand over his chest. there is no heartbeat and laris doesn’t hold back the dry sob that escapes her. she closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath without removing her hand. she can’t; so, her free hand finds its way to his, half expecting him to squeeze hers. it never comes.

“ you’re an idiot. ” she instantly regrets her words, shaking her head. those aren’t the right words to use, she won’t be disrespectful towards the death; the thought hits her harder than she expected it. opening her eyes, she looks straight at his face. he won’t return the look but she believes his spirit will listen nonetheless. “ jol-ao au. and i thank you. you have been the most important thing in my life, e'lev. ” her voice begins to shake but she tries hard to hold it together. “ your life will be remembered. your love will be cherished. i will carry all that you have given me, forever. ” her voice is soft as the romulan words fall from her lips. finally, she leans forward, pressing a kiss to his lips and to his forehead, pulling her hands away from him. all the words left in her head, die on her lips. he knows, he always has, there is nothing left to say except for one thing. “ bed aoi. ” goodbye forever, indeed. unmoving, laris remains by his side for a long time before she finally wills herself to leave. the final goodbye. her partner, her husband; one day, she will reuinte with him. until then, he won’t be forgotten.

#tongowheel #𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓. laris #𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄. answered #death tw #ngl this was hard

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docholligay · 3 years

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An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave I-- Morrison’s Ghost

All thanks for the sponsorship to @keyofjetwolf. 4,500 words

Jack Morrison was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. HIs death was registered in both the United Kingdom and the United States, and his small pittance of a savings account and a life given over to a quick signature. Jack Morrison was as dead as a door-nail.

Wilhelm Reinhardt was dead, to begin with. Died that same grey and cloudy day in a pile of rubble. His coffin, sent to the Lindholm family plot in Sweden, with nary a stir from the occupant, and buried there, a name carved in stone, dead as the man below it.

Lena Oxton was dead, to begin with, though her grave had not yet even sunk into the ground, dirt still piled high over the top of it, but please know that it was no less sure, that she was dead. Angela Zeigler had pronounced her herself, and while a bit harried, these last months, she was never one to miss a heartbeat.

No, all of them were dead, when our story begins.

Did Ana know they were dead? Of course she did! Ana was Jack’s partner and roommate and perhaps sole great friend in this earth, and Reinhardt was her sometimes companion and always admirer, and the silence of Tracer ever missing from a room was impossible to ignore. She saw their pictures hung in the Overwatch headquarters, having given their lives in the pursuit of making the world they occupied a better one.

Besides all that, she was no great fool in matters of the mind, however you might find her in matters of the heart, once I allow the tale to truly begin.

And so, you might say, why all the preamble? Why not let the story speak for itself? Well, I tell you this, because if you do not remember that our assembled parties have all taken their last breath long before this day, nothing wonderful can come of the story laid before you here.

But enough. This is a story you know, and a story you do not know, and like all stories known and unknown it begins with a hero, or perhaps a villain, or, in the best stories of all, simply a main character, with affiliation to good and evil fleeting and half-decided.

So brings us to Ana Amari.

There are people, in this world, immediately assured of their own correctness, and Ana was one of them. This is not to say that she thought of herself as having done everything in the most perfect way possible, or that there had never been something that might have gone differently, given different choices, but simply that she had nothing on this earth for which to apologize. Ana was a child of revolution and struggle, and it was well known that all people did what they had to do, and she had always and ever done that.

Ana was a genius in some respects, as most of us are, and a particular point of her genius was her ability to justify everything she had ever done as being rooted in a good idea, an impossible choice only she was willing to make, and her skill in deciding others were simply looking for someone to blame.She had changed, she reasoned, in the way many people who fail to see the original problem do. The balance of power no longer held her, and her child was grown, and these changed circumstances allowed her to believe that it was a changed self.

Ana moved through her life as if she were on trial, every conversation twisted into something that made her into a criminal. She would not be forced to speak against her own effort, and so she antagonized and snapped and refused to answer. They would not force her to admit guilt, to imprison herself.

Only the weak did such things.

It was a terribly chill December day, and the grey pall of a London winter cast out of the city as she moved to the cafe on her side of the Thames. She watched London always--she had never learned quite how to not pay attention to every given moment and movement--looking at the people who passed by, their clothing and manner changing as she moved through the city.

The city was dressed up for Christmas, tinsel in windows, softly glowing lights strung up inexpertly, banners of evergreen strung over the streets as the inhabitants of the areas got richer. Happy Christmases were exchanged along the street between shopkeepers and customers, acting as if they knew or cared for each other at all. It was not a time of year Ana especially relished, not so much for the fact that she had never celebrated it herself, though she did not and would not, but for the fact that it reminded her even more keenly of a universally held truth.

They were fragile. Londoners were mostly spoiled children who had no idea of what a harsh life might look like. The Omnics had come, those years ago, but they had not needed to rebuild a society out of the flames of the old one. They did not know what it was to have to be strong. To be firm. They were the sorts of people who let a date on a calendar upend their entire lives, pretending at all these childlike ideas. Take away some ridiculous pudding, and the whole of society might collapse.

A mother crouched down by her daughter on the sidewalk, holding her small hand and telling her that it was was very disappointing when we couldn’t get a little cake to take home, she understood.

Ana chuffed and shook her head as she walked by, her mental point proven. This was how children were prepared for the world to listen, to give them what they wanted. To hide from them the fact that sacrifice was demanded of people who wanted any good to come of it. It was no question that the sorts of people who attempted to empathize with a four year old’s want of pastry couldn’t understand Ana.

In some ways, she found comfort in this. If people accustomed to the plush robes of a gentle life could not understand her, it was merely that they did not understand the sort of things that needed to be done. She almost could not fault them, though she certainly found occasion to do so anyhow. Sheep do not understand the sheepdog. People like her were made to protect the world for people who did not have the strength to be like her, to do difficult things.

The cafe was a simple affair with a black awning, and in summers, Ana imagined there must be plenty of seating on the sidewalk in summer, but now there were only a few small tables crowded into the place, covered in a red gingham plastic. Black and white photography covered the walls, every square inch devoted to a memory that was certainly somewhat different from the lived experience of it. It smelled of bacon and beans and eggs, and it didn’t make much sense for Ana to be there, but the coffee was some of the most competent she’d found, the prices were right, and the English insistence on beans at breakfast was one of the few sensible things about them, this place preparing them with a bit of cheddar, if lacking much else by way of seasoning. They had a ready selection of newspapers, it was at nearly the halfway point between her apartment and her work, and she was accustomed to her little spot in the corner.

Today, there was somebody in it. Not a tourist, but perhaps worse. A blonde woman with a round, almost dollish face, and bright blue eyes, a cozy pink sweater wrapping her like a blanket.

Ana found sentimentality a crime, regret a worse one, and found weakness in softness. For these reasons, Ana Amari had never particularly bonded with Mercy, who had encompassed all of these things from the first time Ana had met her. She was a brilliant doctor, and few people could reasonably say otherwise. Her work was integral to the development of several new weapons. She was a private physician to Overwatch’s most complex cases. She was all of this, and Ana could admit it, but she was also the sort of person who cried in her office at times, who questioned the good of what they were doing because the means made her uncomfortable, the sort of person who let her heart overtake. Mercy was as bad as Moira, in her own way, Tracer had once struck her for saying, even if it was true.

All of this might have been complicated enough, but then, while Ana was temporarily dead, Mercy had gone and married her daughter.

Mercy sat looking at Ana with a small smile on her face, hands folded in her lap and what seemed to be salmon on toast in front of her. Across the table, there was a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of beans with cheese on toast.

“I asked them what it was you were ordering every day.” Mercy nodded. “They know you very well.”

Ana closed her eye and sighed. Mercy never knew when to leave anything alone. Which might have been fine, if she had ever bent Pharah’s ear to understanding what Ana had done was all to the good. But she seemed to constantly be needling Ana to apologize, to reach out to Pharah. When was it going to be Pharah’s responsibility to admit that she was wrong? The she had never tried to understand her mother?

“Do I look like I need you to buy me breakfast?” She stood, looking down at Mercy, who shook her head.

“Ana, please. Sit?”

“I don’t know what possibly we could share here.” But she sighed and sat down anyway. At least there was breakfast, and the order was right. “But go on.”

Mercy nodded hopefully. “The baby is doing well, the doctor tells me,” she gave a small giggle, looking off away from Ana, “Though, I am not needing too much input, I remember my rotation and have been studying up. A new mother’s anxiety, it must be, you know how that feels.”

Ana took a drink of her coffee. “I was running an operation to my eighth month. But then,” she shrugged, “ I was so much younger. Less to worry about.”

She looked back to Ana a moment, and then looked down at her salmon toast. “Yes. We have....we want this very badly, so I am, more nervous.”

Ana said nothing, simply began to eat her beans and sip at her coffee.

“Ana,” Mercy straightened her back, “I was thinking. Wondering. If you’d like to come for dinner, on Christmas.”

Ana looked over at her with a long, flat stare.

“Not to celebrate! But, we always, everything is closed, and, Fareeha is making a wonderful dinner, we watch movies, you would be alone, and with it almost being Fareeha’s birthday,” She leaned forward, “And the new year, there are so many changes that will be coming. I thought that, maybe, since there are so many new things--.”

Ana set down her fork with a high clink, and chuckled. “Now we get to it. What do you want?”

“Nothing. For me. Ana, you can snap at me, and be--be dismissive of me, all you are wanting for the rest of your life, that was before Fareeha, even, but I love her--”

“You have never understood things between me and Fareeha. You can’t.”

“All you would need to be doing is apologizing. Things have been,” Mercy gave a little sigh, “Fareeha, I think, would forgive you, if you tried. With the baby, and with the sadness of Lena--”

Ana chuckled. “Just because you will hold my grandchild hostage doesn’t mean I’ll apologize, Angela,” she shook her head, “I did what I had to do. There is absolutely nothing to forgive. Just because Fareeha refuses to understand, does not, even for a minute, mean I will bend my knee to--”

Mercy stood up, hands balled at her sides. “Then--then don’t! I--” she lost the words a moment, tears streaming down her face, and she wiped at them, buying her face in her hands, “I was wanting to help you, is all of it! I want to help her! I want,” She let out a sob, and continued, very softly, “My parents are dead, Ana. For our child, I was wanting…” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “No. I will go, now. I won’t try again. You can...win, if you are thinking this is winning.”

She stood up and smoothed the front of her skirt, puling the coat over her shoulders, tears still streaming down her face. Mercy was like this, Ana thought. She was soft, in all the ways Ana was happy she wasn’t, and she good too emotional about things, things that didn’t even really concern her. What she and Pharah had as problems, was her and Pharah’s business.

As she moved to leave the table, dropping a few pound coins next to her coffee, she turned back, stopped, and then took one look back.

“You, are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength, “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath, “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.”

Ana sat back in her chair, and picked up a newspaper.

Ridiculous.

____________

Ana lived alone, now, in that tiny and dark apartment in Brixton with the two small bedrooms barely enough to be called such. It had never occurred to her to live anywhere else. The hallways were dark and dank in the best of times, but the place was cheap, and she didn’t need any kind of frills to entertain all the guests she didn’t have.

There was a chill coming up the stairs, and Ana attributed it to the cool of the December air, wet and icy on her face, and the poor maintenance of the building. It hardly mattered. The hallway was dim and still, a lightbulb at the end of it flickering out the last of its life in some desperate Morse code Ana could not decipher. She turned to unlock the door, when her sniper’s eye caught the movement, just a little.

She turned toward the flicker and shadow. Silence. Nothing. Of course nothing, this hallway was always quiet as the grave, small people in their small lives coming and going like mice nibbling for crumbs. Another flicker, and he was there.

The dark shadow at the end of the hall, strong and bricked and dead for years. Darkness again.

Ana dropped her keys in the moment, and bent down to pick them up. Had she eaten today? Clearly she was seeing things, if she needed to--

She raised her head, and he was there, grey and dead and big as life, standing next to her. She did not even have the time to gasp before his mouth through open and emitted a yell of pain and agony and deep loneliness, one that cut into her spine and made her shiver. She jumped back to ready herself to fight, but another flicker and it was gone. Nothing there, just the dingy carpet that always had been.

She took a slow breath. Another.

“Ridiculous.” She opened the door and went into her apartment.

It was spartan, only a few small things giving any identity to the people who had lived there at all. Ana had made few changes since Jack’s death, other than emptying out his bedroom not because she needed it so much as she wanted the memory gone. There were two pictures on the mantle. A small television. Two tea cups in the small area that passed for a kitchen.

She was unnerved, no matter how much of a hallucination the incident in the hallway had been, and her training kicked in. She swept the place quietly, examining every space, every nook every corner for signs of life. There was nothing, nothing at all but the long shadows the light cast across the floor.

Her shoulders relaxed. Of course there was nothing. She needed to eat something, was all, she was no longer young and could not rely upon her body in the same way she had. There was a carton of soup in the refrigerator, and she dumped it into a pot unceremoniously, stirring it until it boiled and she put it into a deep, wide mug that served as a bowl nowadays.

She turned off the unpleasant florescent overhead light, and flipped on her small lamp next to the couch, the one small bit of soft warmth in the place, something that had been her mother’s from a lifetime ago. There was a book on the table, though she likely couldn’t have told you what it was, simply something to wile away the hour while she ate her soup.

Her only minor concession was the knife set upon the coffee table.

The night had been dark, but somehow grew darker, the shadows drawing into the room, as if night itself was being sucked into that tiny apartment that served as fortress for Ana’s personal war. Ana tried not to notice it, at first. It was silly. She was unnerved by the hallucination in the hallway, and part of that had probably been thinking about the past. It was quite natural to think of the past, when someone stalked you to your cafe and tried to wield it as a weapon.

Then someone knocked at the door.

She looked down at the knife, and went to grab it, and then Jack’s bedroom door started knocking too, and then her bedroom door, and the knocking continued, louder and louder and louder, echoing around her as the darkness closed into the room.

Ana opened her mouth to yell, but nothing came out.

It stopped. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

Ana considered herself to be grounded and logical, as a person. She wasn’t given to flights of fancy, she didn’t see the world as she wished it were, and she knew what to believe with her own eye and her own sense of instinct. She had never doubted her senses, before. She was a creature that fully inhabited them, that required them to survive. The day she could no longer assess a situation would be the day she died.

It nearly had been, years ago.

But now a prickling doubt hung over her head, that she might be losing touch with those same protective senses, even in the silent darkness of her small apartment. Losing her edge. She had always assumed death would come first. It had for the rest of them.

But there was no angel of death in the corners of this room, only the silence being broken by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The floor creaked beneath the thing she could not see, and a low groan of pain and deep sorrow came echoed off the walls.

Ana leapt to her feet, grabbing the knife off the table and exposing the blade.

“You picked the wrong flat for this.” She growled. “I’ve had enough for today.”

But the room was so small, Ana could not figure where the creeping, moaning, creaking came from. She looked behind the couch, only to find nothing. Behind her bedroom door, only shadows. Jack’s room had been closed since London, and it was windowless besides. But still the footsteps, and still the creaking, and still the sense of being watched.

A face.

Ana jumped into action, slashing at it quickly, sticking the blade where between the ribs would be, and coming up with only shadow and smoke in her hands. The face became a body, and the body took shape, even in the dull lamplight, as real as it was spectral, shimmering in the line between life and death.

“Who are you?!” she barked, refusing fear.

The ghost took full form now, a familiar shape against the darkness. “When I was alive, I was your partner. I was your best friend. I was your roommate, Ana. You know me.”

The ghost glowered and Ana cocked her head slightly. It occurred to her, briefly, that she had also once been dead, but that was a different matter entirely. It couldn’t be. Jack had died in the Battle for London, she had selected how to deal with his body herself, she had seen him taken away and she had gone home to that same empty apartment that they had shared. She knew Jack. She had known Jack for more than 30 years. Jack was dead. These things she knew.

“Ridiculous.” she spat. “Impossible.”

And yet, it had to be. She moved closer to him as he looked at her, shaking his head in frustration and irritation at another one of Ana’s petty arguments. He did not wear his visor now, the shattered eyes he had only let her see fully visible in the shimmer of his presence. There were chains coming from him, dragging across his back and binding him, some attached to rocks, some attached to nails, all of them heavy, and hard, and he moved slowly even as he did not stop.

“Jack? Jack.” Even his name sounded strange in her mouth.

She nearly reached out to touch him, and then stopped herself. “No. No,” she waved him off, “This isn’t real.”

There were ideas that were worse than losing your edge.

He paced around the living room slowly. “Yeah, because you’ve always been a hallucinator. Why would this be fake? You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs.”

“I buy sushi from Tesco. There’s the reason all itself.” Ana stopped at the side table, and sipped at her tea. “I have some sort of brain tapeworm from a fish. That is all, and I will go to bed, and, that will be all of it.”

“Ana.” He said in that tone, that tone that was too close to real, that too carefully mimicked his annoyance and affection, “Come on now.”

Ana sat down at the edge of the couch and looked over the chair near her. “Can you sit?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah, I can sit.”

Jack, for lack of another thing to call him, did so, setting himself in the chair he had occupied so many times in life. Ana herself was still unsure that she believed any of it.

“Chains? How dramatic.” She sipped at her tea, determined to be unruffled, even as a chill hit across her back.

“I made these chains, and I’m stuck with them. I made them every single time I set myself apart, every time I used my work as an excuse to build a wall,” he indicated to the rock near his foot, “I build this myself, link by link, with my own excuses and my own behavior.”

Ana leaned back. “Comfortable.”

“Don’t joke, Ana. You should see the chain you’re wearing.” He shook his head. “It’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be for you.”

Ana sat a moment, looking into her tea, considering all that she had seen, considering the things in her life that she knew were impossible and yet were somehow, still possible. This could be so many things. It could be the beginnings of some mental illness. It could be a hallucination borne out of stress or loneliness. It could be the aforementioned Tesco. But it could also be real, and if it were real, than the world at larger had it all wrong about them.

“You did what you had to do. To save the world. We both did.” She waved a hand and scoffed. “We gave up so much for it, and then they hated us for it. We never got any reprieve.” She leaned toward him, pointing, “We made the sacrifice.”

Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Did we? Or was it just always easier to fight?” He smiled softly. “We could have had families. We could have...built connections. The crisis ended, but we never stopped being there. We forgot how to be people, me, and you, and Gabe.”

“I--”

“You were the most important person I had.” Jack rose to his feet. “I’m here to help you. I don’t want this to happen to you.”

“And how, exactly,” she raised an eyebrow, “Are you going to help me, with all of my supposed problems?”

“There will be three spirits: The ghosts of Christmas Past, Present--”

She stood up, laughing. “Why Christmas? I don’t even celebrate Christmas. I’ve never celebrated Christmas. I--”

“It’s for narrative structure, Ana. Call them the ghosts of Last Tuesday Past, I don’t--”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know why we need to--”

He shook his head again, “You will be visited by three spirits, one tonight, at midnight--”

“I don’t have time for this, have them all come at once, so I can go back to--”

“ANA!” He howled, and raged toward her and the force of it knocked her into the wall, those empty eyes burning, burning like coals in the darkness of his own death, “I am trying to help you! Do you want to die alone? Do you want to be completely separated from every human being? You can live a long time Ana, and start to realize it’s a hell, and all you’ll do is wait, and stare, at visitors that are never coming, and birthdays you’ll never celebrate, and you’ll know,” He pointed his finger in you’re face, “You’ll know! That you put yourself there.”

“Jack…”

He sighed heavily and plopped into the chair, his hand at his temples. ‘While I was alive, I couldn’t help you, or save you. You were so damn--we--were so damn determined to put walls around ourselves, thick ones, like we were fortresses, and keep everyone else out. And we did a good fucking job, didn’t we? You and me, side by side, shooting down anyone who tried to come over.” He removed his hand but did not look at her, “When I died, who truly mourned me? You?” he chuckled, “Maybe not even that.”

“I did.”

She hated herself for saying it, at first, and knowing that it was true, and then there was a second, smaller hate there, one she could not place.

“Okay. If you say so.” He looked out the window. ‘This isn’t a discussion. You’re going to be visited, and for God’s sake Ana, please just listen. I could never get you to listen. I...that’s all the time I have. Listen.”

He stood up and stepped toward the window as if not under his own power, drifting more than walking toward the dark London night. Ana stumbled to her feet, confused and angry and afraid, calling after him.

“Jack? Jack, why can’t you just--Jack!”

He faded through the window, though Ana knew it to be double tight, and she was left alone in the dark, with but one word, surrounding her and echoing off the walls.

“Listen.”

#HON HON HON #yes it's actually part of the canon ahaha

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