#i hope that these tags and all the links don't make this post be silenced | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pocarinapyon · 1 year

Text

🌶️🌶️ Jealousy-Jealousy: A New Banner version A2 (Albedo, Childe, Venti, Zhongli)

A new character banner is just around the corner and the excited you couldn't help but rave about how cool they are. Naturally, you pre-farmed materials and even spent moolah for a five-star weapon, claiming they deserve only the best of best (Meaning: four star weapons and artifacts are not allowed!! And let's not get started on the artifact stats! 😡).

Inside the world of Genshin, your bond ten boys couldn't help but feel jealous. The flames of jealousy fueled further when you used them to grind for the new character's items. How sickening was it to think that they have become stepping stones of your new favourite character?

The boys decided. When they materialize in your world, they will make sure to mark you and to indulge in their sinful fantasies of you. You are theirs and only theirs, after all.

But one night, to their surprise, their competitors were summoned along with them. How will the boys act? Will they fight with each other until one of them gets to have you all for themselves? Or will they work together in pleasing and glorifying your body?

Just like how you teamed them up in game.

Contents include [a brief scene introduction], and [the actual chilis].

Starring : Albedo, Childe, Venti, Zhongli (GangB.)

Tags / Warnings : 🌶️🌶️ [Chilis] Seggs; Scattered cuss words; The Archons calling each other by their Archon name; the boys being chatty in the first part; Implied rape; Petnames (if it bothers you); Somnophilia; Childe...respecting you???; Albedo making a "souvenir" 😏; Creampie; The boys being possessive; I might have given Zhongli a non-canon ability; Zhongli being a gentleman on the streets but a freak under the sheets; Albedo holding back 👀...for an experiment!; Anal (don't worry, you're vacated 👍🏼); Squirting; etc.; 👑/🖥️ [SAGAU/(Reverse) Isekai]; Based on the SAGAU/Reverse Isekai concept linked below but with chilis

Again, this post was done on mobile and I don't have anyone to beta this so if there are major minor mistakes, please forgive me. 😭

Future Plan : Version B1 Bennett??, Diluc Ragnvindr, Kaedehara Kazuha, Kaeya Alberich (Separate) - but I will post something else before B1: either a new one (ALHAITHAM, COME HOME BABY!!!) or from my backlog (Reimagined and rewritten. The ones drafted before I was separated with my PC... Yes, you read that right. I was separated with my precious PC 🥲)

Links : Pinned Post, JJ version A1 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, JJ Request (Venti), SAGAU/Reverse Isekai concept, A Good Experiment (Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya) Separate

Target audience is female (bodied) reader.

To whoever is reading, please enjoy.

-------------------------

Surrounding your bed, wordlessly judging each other, were the characters selected on your Party Setup screen. Albedo, Childe, Venti, and Zhongli were supposed to farm more items but the drowsy you were so exhausted that you fell asleep after selecting your line-up. The moment you stepped into dreamland was when the Genshin men materialized in your room, each hoping to have an intimate alone time with you but was gravely disappointed to learn three others came with them.

The clock continuously counted each passing second, its ticking the only sound echoing in the room. With a strum on his lyre, the first to break the deafening silence was Venti.

"Ehe~ I wonder what's everyone waiting for?" the bard asked innocently, yet they all knew what he exactly meant.

"Tch! For [your name]'s sake, I am not going to do the deed in front of other people," Childe quickly retorted.

"Oh?" Zhongli exclaimed in amusement. "Apologies. I assumed you to be the first to take advantage of this situation, Childe. Knowing you, I presumed you would wish us to watch you conquer [your name]."

Flabbergasted, Childe's mouth gaped like a fish. It was true that he was someone known to conquer the battlefield, winning victories even against the largest and strongest of preys. But this - this "battle" was you. And as someone who was taught some manners, Childe - Ajax - could not bring himself to just carelessly strip your vulnerable form while other vicious predators watched.

"Of course, it is something I will not allow," the Geo Archon added.

"Let me guess, Mister Zhongli wants to bury himself inside [your name] as well, doesn't he?" Childe interrogated, glaring at the gentleman whose arms were crossed together.

"I do not simply wish to bury myself. I will defile [your name]."

Even before the Harbinger could respond back, the Anemo Archon blurted.

"Eeh?! That's very kinky of you, Morax! You mean you want your cum oozing out of [your name]? Or you want to cover her body with it? Or you just want to stretch her out with your biiiig dick?" To this, the Geo Archon responded with a low chuckle.

"Heh! Mister Zhongli, I didn't expect you to be this vulgar! In fact, I thought you'd be the first to give [your name] some respect. It seems I was fooled. But hey, it's just like that time in Liyue, yeah?" Childe growled. "Not today, Morax. Did you seriously think I would just let you toy my wife?"

"Not without us, right??" Venti chortled, earning him an angry glance from the Snezhnayan man.

"Haha... Even if you wished to, I believe you are not capable to stop me."

Chaos was about to transpire as the Geo Archon and the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger shot daggers at one another, both waiting and ready to pounce, their flames fueled by the playful Anemo Archon's remarks. However, the quiet Chief Alchemist knew better. He knew that if you started to wake up, they will disappear and this evening will be a wasted opportunity. Of course, none of them wanted that.

"Ahem. Everyone, I have a proposal to make," Albedo spoke, catching the attention of the group. "It may sound absurd but I think we should learn how to share. We need to work together if we want to take advantage of this moment."

Share. Work together. Big words. Would it really be possible for these possessive men to actually share? To work together? But no matter how much they resented it, it was the only feasible thing to do. After all, their common goal was to make the most out of their capability to manifest in your world. And with Albedo's agreeable logical idea, using their unique abilities, everyone decided to cooperate.

...

It was a very uncompromising position for you as three men, all with the desire to leave no inch of you untouched, feasted on your unconscious form. You had no choice for you were their sleeping beauty and they could toy you as they pleased.

"Ehe~! Albedo was right! I didn't know you were sensitive here, Windblume?" Venti remarked as he nibbled on the flesh of your side, making you softly gasp in pleasure.

"Hey, Mister Albedo, aren't you going to join us?" Childe asked, squeezing both your erected nipples. "You three did a good job, you know? See, I can do basically whatever I want without waking [your name] up!" he enthusiastically said, roughly kneading your two lumps of flesh with his broad hands. "You're really missing out."

"Indeed," Zhongli concurred, loosening your pussy with three digits. "If you fear [your name] will awaken from sleep then worry not. Barbatos may not look like it but rest assured he has induced our beloved in deep slumber with his lullaby."

"Ehehe! Morax actually praised me! But giving our muse a pleasant dream is an important recipe too. Plus, you did so much with your potions. Now come and join us!"

Venti leaned his cheeks on your tummy and skillfully rubbed your clit. The double whammy on your womanhood made you moan louder, to which Childe pouted. Still giving your breasts attention, Childe invaded your parted mouth with his tongue and muffled your erotic voice with a sloppy kiss.

"Thank you all for your offer but please don't mind me," Albedo, still clothed, politely declined as he smiled contentedly at the profane scene before him.

After capturing the image in his mind, Albedo returned to his clipboard and engraved the erotic memory in art. Meanwhile, the other three men returned to their own businesses and continued to abuse your defenseless body.

Zhongli retracted his hands from you then positioned himself in front of your entrance. The Liyue god spread your slick with the tip of his cock while pumping his shaft, lubricating his big erection in the process. To this, Venti got up, gave Zhongli enough room, and continued to play your sensitive nub. Meanwhile, Childe peeked at the pornographic scene and began to choke his own cock with his hands. Now feeling your cunt weep in loneliness, Zhongli smirked and pushed his whole length inside of you in one push, making you arch your body and gasp lewdly in response. Venti mused at your angelic voice while Childe squeezed his own manhood harder.

Childe pumped his shaft faster, turning himself on by watching the two Archons molest your body. The Geo Archon rocked his hips to and fro, sensually massaging the walls of your tight cunt. Meanwhile, the Anemo Archon excitedly puffed your mouth with his cock, stifling whatever lewd sound came from your lips. Sounds of clapping flesh, Zhongli's low growl, Venti's melodious moan, and Childe's choked groans were the only music echoing your room. The three men pleasured themselves with your body until all of them released at once: Zhongli's filling your pussy, Venti's serving as your swig, and Childe's staining your tummy.

Cooperating with each other, they all switched places. Childe scooped the cum littered on your body before feeding it to your quivering lips. He then began to give life to his flaccid manhood by giving it a massage. Meanwhile, Venti gave your pussy a quick lick before rubbing his energetic cock on your slit to coat it with love juice. Zhongli, on the other hand, sat back to watch.

The Anemo Archon squeezed your plush thighs before slowly entering your wet cunt. Venti relished the way how your gummy walls felt and took his precious time bottoming out. He buried himself deep, grinding and rocking his pelvis against yours to explore your warmth. On the other hand, Childe spitted on his erection to serve as lubricant. He pumped his shaft while prodding the tip of his cock on your lips. He parted your mouth so he could feed you his whole length in a nice deep throat.

Venti's and Childe's rhythm started differently, wherein Childe's was abusive while Venti's was leisurely. It didn't take long before they both got lost in pleasure, now corrupting your holes wildly. Zhongli ogled the wanton love-making before him and watched how Venti and Childe came together deep inside of you accompanied by the harmonious sound of an excited squeal and a low grunt.

After coming down from their highs, the three men swapped places again, this time with a special request from Childe.

"Mister Zhongli, why don't you take the rear for me?"

The three men adjusted your positions wherein Zhongli penetrated your behind, Childe entered your womanhood, and Venti made use of your mouth. Zhongli did slow, shallow thrusts to let Childe enjoy brutalizing your tighter than ever wet cunt. Meanwhile, Venti simply let his cock sit in your mouth. The two Archons did not move and let Childe debauched you roughly, their resting cocks stimulated by your rocking body.

Having Zhongli in your ass, your pussy hot tighter that it became hard to move inside - a challenge Childe made for himself. The Harbinger knew you liked it rough so he eagerly pistoned his cock in fast deep thrusts. The wet walls squeezing him clenched and he knew you were going to cum. He kept pounding and pounding until he shook in overstimulation and unintentionally released all his seeds.

Childe heaved as he filled you to the brim. With a plop, he unsheathed himself from you to let the cream flow out of your abused pussy. It was cue for the two Archons to continue stimulating themselves. Venti placed the head of his manhood inside your mouth, your teeth grazing the neck of his penis, and massaged his shaft. Meanwhile, Zhongli fucked your rear in slow deep thrusts. In their own pace, the Archons reached their highs and soon came inside your holes.

The three men ogled your form: your holes leaking a mix of love juice; your chest rising up and down in taking deep breaths; your lips quivering as drool dripped its corner. Thoughts of how they defiled you played in their minds. Yet a common question plagued them.

Were you able to cum?

"Thank you all for your cooperation. May I have the honour?" Albedo spoke gently.

The men gave way so the Chief Alchemist could have his chance. Albedo observed the bastardized state you were in.

Damn did you look hot.

"I'm here, my princess," Albedo whispered in your ear as he freed his cock from its moist restraints.

Albedo pecked your lips and tucked the strands of hair away from sticking on your forehead. He caressed your hips, slid his hands down your thighs then pressed your clit, making you gasp in pleasure. A good reaction. His lips smugly curled upward before he sheathed himself fully inside your cunt.

The three men had their erections from watching Albedo pump your pussy in a mating press - each of his thrusts making a lewd squelch. Stray erotic moans often escaped your lips, further arousing the watchers and luring them deeper into depravity. Albedo kept his pace calculated, pistoning with the right combination of depth, rhythm, and speed.

Your breathing became erratic as your body begged Albedo to fuck you more. But it wasn't enough. Albedo kept teasing you - pretending to give you orgasm only to stop - until your pussy tried to suck him deeper.

The three men surrounded you and Albedo, pumping their cocks in desperation. Moans and grunts filled the room orchestrated by Albedo's rough pistoning. Climax was fast approaching and all of you were on edge. It didn't take long before you came and squirted all over Albedo. The scene made the watchers spill their seeds all over, each with their own grunts and growls. Albedo unsheathed himself and, with a choked moan, he joined in spurting his cum.

Basking in the joy of orgasm, everyone panted in satisfaction. Albedo, in exhaustion, leaned his forehead on yours before victoriously declaring.

"Hah... My love, only I can make you feel this good."

-------------------------

Hello, everyone and thank you for reading Jealousy-Jealousy version A2! I hope you all enjoyed it.

It's my first time writing a smut fic with multiple partners at once. And, uhn.... It's spicier in my mind, though. 😅

Also, my favouritism is showing, lol!

Anyway.

To whoever read this, thank you for your time. Here, have some raw meat. 🥩

Please feel free to cook it however you want.

Links : Pinned Post, JJ version A1 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, JJ Request (Venti), SAGAU/Reverse Isekai concept, A Good Experiment (Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya) Separate

Venti = Battery and Crowd Control cutie; Childe = Main DPS and massacrer of all (except Hydro Mimics, that's Albedo's job lol); Zhongli = Shielder and prophet of Osmanthus Wine; Albedo = Off-field sub-DPS and pretty boy who bitch slaps enemies with his Rite of Progeniture;

Geo Resonance FTW!!

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin sagau #sagau smut #genshin albedo #genshin tartaglia #genshin childe #genshin venti #genshin barbatos #genshin zhongli #genshin albedo smut #genshin childe smut #genshin tartaglia smut #genshin venti smut #genshin zhongli smut #genshin imagines #genshin isekai

546 notes · View notes

ooihcnoiwlerh · 17 days

Text

Hello, Darlings! I am back with another chapter of my Feyd-Rautha/Reader arranged marriage fic. (18+ only) Strong content warning and tags below the cut.

@richardslady121 @blazeflays @wo-ming-bai . Please let me know if you would also like to be tagged in future updates!

Trigger warning for this chapter: There are mentions of and references to child abuse, sexual abuse, and incest--none of it graphic, all of it occurring in the past. There is also dubcon/the Reader finding hard limits and triggers without realizing she had them. I feel like the last couple of chapters I've written were mostly smutty fun and this chapter...is not that. I wouldn't recommend going into this blind if you haven't read any of this already. The link to the full fanfic so far is posted above, and I'll cross post the newest chapter down below.

CHAPTER SIX: HIS LOVELY NEPHEW

You don’t have to wonder for too long if Feyd-Rautha wants to train you this morning. You prepare for it with nearly as much sinking dread as you felt before your wedding, pulling on your training pants and shirt that must’ve been laundered since yesterday morning and plaiting your hair. You’re about to put on your boots when Idrisa comes in with her tray and says, “Good morning, Na-Baroness. The Na-Baron will not be needing you in the Training Halls today.”

Just dressing for breakfast, then. There’s a part of you that’s reasonably certain that Feyd-Rautha likes your old clothes from your home planet, just as he likes your hair, but since your first day as a married woman the Baron has insisted that you dress only in the Harkonnen style. You can hardly imagine what he thinks of you keeping your hair. Eventually it won’t matter what he thinks about you; he’s an old man whose body has been kept intact only due to the best of Harkonnen technology and healing, but not even that can make him immortal. At least, you hope not.

So off comes the training gear, on goes another Harkonnen dress that’s snug enough that you won’t be able to wear it for long as you wonder if you’ll be able to tell when you’re pregnant. How early will your body recognize it? Will you have a moment soon in which you’ll just know , or will it take a visit from the Bene Gesserit? You certainly couldn’t begin to guess right now.

Idrisa escorts you to the Dining Halls, probably noting your silence and the nervous set in your shoulders but, of course, saying nothing. You don’t want to go in when you reach those double doors, but would normally accept your fate were it not for a split second before Idrisa’s about to open them.

You hold up a hand. Wait. There's murmuring on the other side. You lean in, walking closer to the sound until you can press your ear against the wall a couple meters to the left of the doors.

“I trust you’ve been fulfilling your marital duties, my lovely boy?” the Baron says. He’s close enough that he must not have sat down for breakfast yet. It sounds like he’s hovering with the aid of his suspensor technology.

“I have.” Feyd-Rautha’s voice, curt and hauntingly similar to his uncle’s, makes you want to turn and walk away.

“I had no doubts, of course. I’ve heard what a virile man you’ve become.”

You furrow your brow. As much as it turns your stomach to think about it, you know that your father wouldn’t talk to your brother this way.

“Those Bene Gesserit whores want you to sire an heir immediately,” the Baron continues. “So of course you’ll have to do your due diligence and make sure your little pet is carrying your son as soon as possible.”

You flush at the insult. I’m hardly his pet, you filthy old man . And not that you expect your groom to defend you, not when he sees you as hardly more of a person than his uncle, but you almost hope that he calls you his wife. After all, he likes it when you call him your husband.

There’s a moment of silence, and even through the door you can sense the tension.

“That won’t be an issue, uncle,” Feyd-Rautha says finally.

You've finally had enough; you glance over at Idrisa, who immediately looks down and opens the doors for you.

You realize that they were looking at an old portrait of the Baron lining the nearest wall that’s either far too flattering or suggests that around the time of his coronation decades ago he must’ve been over a hundred kilos lighter than he is now. You don’t know when it will be replaced with a portrait of Feyd-Rautha, who spares you only a brief glance.

So he hasn’t forgiven you . For what, you’re still not certain. You’re still trying to figure out his anger.

I didn’t cause those scars , you want to tell him, and I wasn’t mocking you for having them .

When you curtsy towards him and the Baron, you’re certain that they know you could hear at least part of their conversation, but you’re not entirely sure if the Baron either doesn’t care that you heard or how you’d react or if he feels smug knowing that he’s reminded you of your place within this Fortress, as if he’d ever let you forget. Feyd-Rautha doesn’t seem to react at all, his face a mask of cold indifference even as you can sense the tension he keeps coiled in his lean but powerful frame.

You’re almost surprised that he continues his habit of pulling your chair out for you before he takes his seat beside you, but you realize that it’s because the Baron must have picked up on this practice from your wedding reception and will immediately sniff out something to use against either of you if he senses anything amiss.

Of course, if the Baron were familiar with how marriage typically works, he’d know that spouses tend to talk to each other, especially over a meal. They don’t sit in awkward silence barely looking at one another for an entire half hour.

It’s more of the same; the Baron oscillates between being condescending to Feyd-Rautha and complimentary, offering vague comments on Rabban’s disappointing return to governing Arrakis and mentioning a possible sighting for another planet that could provide spice without a hostile population fighting them over it. The Baron doesn’t acknowledge you in part because you’re fairly certain he forgets you’re even there; Feyd-Rautha because, well, because. Because of whatever he has buried beneath the surface that you may have awakened. In the early morning, still half-asleep, you didn’t fully realize it, but two memories jump out at you as you sit silently at the table with your husband and his uncle and sneak stolen glances at them both.

“ Guess I just wasn’t pretty enough to be our uncle’s favorite .” Hardly more than a week ago; the way the very air seemed sucked out of the room when Rabban said it, Feyd’s reaction. The seed, though, had been planted years before you understood it, before you were arranged to marry into this twisted family.

“ I can’t prove it, I can’t explain it, but Vladimir Harkonnen has something going on that he doesn’t even want other Harkonnens to know. Something fucked up ,” Father had said once to one of his generals as you’d trailed in just outside of sight. “ Worse than any of his other vices .”

When you were a little younger, but old enough to consider the realistic implications of an arranged marriage, you'd feared marrying into a family in which your father-in-law liked to sample his son's bride. The Baron is as close to a father-in-law that you're getting, and you're confident that he would never do such a thing to you. Not out of honor or respect, you’ve known that he has none for you since the moment you met, but because his inclinations lie elsewhere.

You were prepared for a lot, but you didn’t expect to spend an agonizing meal wondering how horrific the Baron’s treatment of your husband has been over the years.

You'd wondered in the past what tastes the Baron must have that the mere concept of which had disgusted your father years ago. Animals? The dead? Children? All concepts that turn your stomach and when you think about the way he talks to his nephew even now, the scars on his back, the very fact that Feyd tried to kill him during his adolescence, you’re pretty sure you have your answer. Still, it just seems impossible; the two of them sit next to each other as if everything’s normal.

If it’s true, then how? Feyd-Rautha is still so subservient to him, so deferential even if he’s about as friendly towards his uncle as he is everyone else, which is to say, not at all. The closest anyone’s gotten to bringing it up was Rabban, and that was to imply that his little brother…you can’t bring yourself to think about it… slept his way to the top of his family lineage?

The very real possibility seems too awful to be real, but it’s also the most obvious explanation.

You head back to the library immediately after breakfast, returning a couple of documents and heading back to your quarters with an armful more. You could sense the librarian’s nervousness when you specified which documents you wanted, but he complied with a quiet “Yes, Na-Baroness.” It’s a little disconcerting that he’d be anxious over what information you’ll find, but you disregard the part of you that suggests that maybe it’s easier to remain ignorant. You need to know.

The door’s been fitted connecting your bathroom to his, so you’ll be able to slip into one another’s quarters with greater ease. You would’ve been far more grateful for it yesterday, back when your new husband seemed to actually want to be with you. You don’t give it another thought as you spread everything out and start reading.

You’re pretty sure that you now have all the documents that chronicle Feyd-Rautha’s assassination attempt. Fourteen, punished severely, yes, you already have that. You try to find a cause listed, and come up empty. You do, however, find details of what his punishment was.

Three days, apparently. Three days of severe beatings only to be healed with a potent elixir before being subjected to another round, but with the Baron merciful enough to his young heir to heal all of his scars except lash marks on his back. He left them to serve as a reminder never to betray his uncle again. There are a couple of renderings of him from that time; a skinny boy with a narrow face and an angry set in his jaw. It’s the eyes, though, that make you wince. It’s the bags around them that seem entirely wrong for a boy that age, the haunted look in them. Since the moment you met him there was something calculating yet almost inhuman in them. Here there’s just pain and anger.

He was just a kid. This wasn’t some underhanded tactic to seize power; it was the desperate act of an angry boy in pain.

After being spared his life, he went missing, only to be found on Lankiveil days later. He’d managed to find passage under a fake name. You look at the date, furrow your brow, and then check on the other records you’ve held onto–the date of his mother’s death.

They match up; the day the Harkonnens found and captured Feyd-Rautha was the same day his mother was found murdered.

You inhale sharply, getting up and pacing around the room, running your hands through your hair.

Are you surprised? Why? To say that the Baron’s corrupt would be to look into the ocean and say, ‘Ah, yes. There’s water in that.’

You flinch when you hear a knock at the door, feeling silly for thinking for a brief moment, It’s Harkonnen guards coming to execute me for reading about their scandals .

“Who is it?” you ask, voice breaking, and exhaling in relief when Idrisa calls to tell you she has refreshments for you. Water, fruit, a sort of lemon-ginger sparkling water as well that she claims is excellent for digestion. She sets the tray on your end-table and you wonder–-she knows something. Even if she wasn’t present, she must know details that will never see the light of day. Word of mouth endures.

“Idrisa,” you call for her, and she turns. You can’t contain it. You’re buzzing, ready to crawl out of your skin, needing to say it. “I know about the time Feyd-Rautha tried to kill his uncle. And now I know about how he was whipped as part of his punishment and that’s why he has scars all over his back. I know how he tried to return to Lankiveil afterwards, and I know how he was immediately apprehended and brought back here around the same time his mother had been murdered with no suspects, let alone a culprit.” Idrisa glances away, fidgeting her fingers in front of her, and still you press on, the words spilling out of you. “At the wedding, Rabban said the only reason their uncle favors Feyd is for his looks. I know you said that the assassination was before your time but if all the other details are spelled out except Feyd-Rautha’s motive for wanting to kill his uncle, then it paints a certain picture, doesn’t it?” you say, wanting to recoil from your own words and the implications of them.

Idrisa looks down, fidgeting with her hands that she has primly clasped in front of her. “I cannot speak ill of my masters.”

“I won’t tell,” you say. She still can’t look at you. “I’m sorry but I need to know. I once overheard my father insisting that the Baron…” you almost laugh, because it’s so uncomfortable to say. You’d almost rather not know and never have to think about it, but it’s unavoidable. “That the Baron had certain tastes. Certain appetites, not just for food.”

The way Idrisa’s face seems to turn even paler might serve as enough of a confirmation that you’re right.

“And last night, early this morning, I,” you hesitate, stammering for a moment, “I touched one of the scars on my husband’s back. I didn’t think it would bother him but it did. As awful as it is, if,” you take a breath, clear your throat. The idea of the Baron putting hands on his nephew now makes you nauseous, let alone over a decade ago, or, oh, Great Mother, eighteen years ago. “As awful as it is, if what I’m guessing is true, then I need to know.”

Idrisa’s gaze flutters as she tries to find the words. “Na-Baroness, what is in the past…”

“Still affects the present and the future,” you tell her. “Especially if it involves something like this.” There’s more silence, Idrisa biting her lip as she can’t quite look at you. “Please,” you add.

From the way her posture almost snaps ramrod straight, eyes widening, you wonder if anyone’s ever pleaded with her before. You wait, realizing that you’ve found a small crack in her armor.

She hesitates. “I began my service here when I was fourteen. The Na-Baron was seventeen at the time. I was instructed to keep my head down and not say anything. We all were. We were told that if we saw or heard anything, that no, we didn’t.”

“So you met my husband when he was seventeen?” you ask. That was nearly a decade ago. What was he like back then? Was he cruel and efficient, or was he more emotional? Had he already been turned into a killer, or would that come a little later? How much did he change in those three years? Do you know?

Idrisa nods, not quite looking at you. “And he was starting to age out of the Baron’s…preferences, but I don’t think it ended entirely for another year or two.”

It. One word to capture the enormity of what happened. Your mind goes blank. You already knew, already steeled yourself for this, but it feels as though the floor has given way under you. You sit on the edge of your bed, needing to think.

“The Na-Baron has earned the respect of his men since he’s come of age, my lady,” she adds. “They don’t think any less of him, especially not anymore.”

Why would they think less of him? He’s not the one who’s a pedophile .

“How many?” you ask instead. You can’t say the rest, How many victims? but you don’t need to. She knows. Maybe there’s a part of her that’s been bottling this up for years, desperate to say it out loud.

She shakes her head, shrugging, as if to say, No one really keeps count . “Over a dozen that I’m aware of and he’s been slowing down as he’s gotten older, so there’ve likely been hundreds over the years. All boys, mostly between the ages of ten and fifteen or sixteen. I’ve heard that the Na-Baron was his favorite for about a decade.”

Heard that . So people just…talked about it, albeit in secret, instead of doing anything.

“And everyone knows?” you ask, your voice going into a higher register out of pure incredulity.

Idrisa shakes her head again. “Not outside of the Fortress. The general populace of Geidi Prime isn’t aware of it. The Harkonnen government has made sure that they never will be.”

“But everyone else, everyone here…” you trail off.

“We see nothing,” she says again. “We hear nothing. We keep our heads down and keep the Fortress running.”

It is what you’d feared, what he won’t discuss. An open secret that festers much like an open, untreated wound. You think you’re going to be sick.

“The Baron brings in good commerce. He’s held up and improved on everything that’s made Geidi Prime such a wealthy planet. If Geidi Prime thrives as much as it possibly can under his rule, then that is what matters.”

You don’t know how to take this all in.

“Na-Baroness?” she asks.

“Thank you, Idrisa,” you tell her. “You’ve been very helpful.”

She understands this as the dismissal that it is, the need to process everything. She leaves with a curtsy.

You don’t keep track of the time between then and when evening comes; the black sun hasn’t fully set yet; you hadn’t noticed it getting darker.

You look at the renderings of your husband as he was over a decade ago. When did the pain leave? When was it replaced by something that seems far less human, or did it just retreat so far inwards that no one will ever see it again?

Idrisa comes in. Timidly, she stands, eyes downcast and hands clasped in front of her. “Dinner is ready, Na-Baroness,” she says.

You look over at her, and down at all the documents that you’re going to need to put back together and return.

How am I supposed to eat with this person and converse over dinner like everything’s normal? How does Feyd-Rautha stand it?

“And I suppose my presence is mandatory again?” you ask, voice measured, and get up, resigned.

At dinner you’ve never been less hungry in your life. You feel a humming at the back of your skull grow louder and louder as the Baron and Feyd-Rautha make casual conversation about focusing on growing the industry on Geidi Prime to make up for the spice losses on Arrakis.

How can you sit next to this man, listen to the sound of his voice, follow his orders? How do you not want to kill him all the time? you want to ask Feyd. You poke and prod at the little food you bothered to take for yourself and stare at your plate, still trying to wrap your head around the dynamic unfolding around you. How can your husband live like this?

The Baron notices that you haven’t eaten anything. “It’s a little early for nausea, young Y/N,” he says. “Or is the food just not to your liking?”

You can’t look at him. “My apologies, Baron,” you say in as measured of a tone as you can. You’re the one making me sick, you monster . “There is no issue with the food. I just don’t have much of an appetite this evening.” You think about taking your knife and jamming it into his eye. You wonder how often Feyd-Rautha has thought the same thing while sitting poised and calm at this very table.

They usually serve wine with dinner. The Baron usually indulges, and due to his size and age can drink a lot without it seeming to affect him. Feyd-Rautha usually declines, not to your surprise. Now that your monthly courses are pretty much over your plan has been to decline as well, given what will soon be the nature of your condition. Tonight, though, you accept, hoping that the alcohol on an empty stomach will numb you to what’s happening at this table and keep you numb when Feyd-Rautha comes to “fulfill his marital duties” tonight. Neither of them comment, but both look at you as you tip your glass back.

You’re not sure if the Baron can sense it, but Feyd-Rautha can. He’s a smart man; he knows you’ve been reading about his life, about recent Harkonnen memory, so he can reasonably assume that once you set him off early this morning that you did whatever research you could as to why.

He says nothing about it; he barely even looks at you throughout dinner and the quiet tension is excruciating; he knows that you know and it makes him even angrier. He also can’t take

I’m not like the people who let it happen, you want to say. I’m not your brother who called you weak or suggested you were asking for it. I don’t think you’re less of a man for this. Maybe no one else had the compassion for you that you needed but I do.

But a man like him, one raised on brutality–you’re not sure he’d ever accept your compassion if you offered. Maybe he’d be offended by it.

The hours tick by after dinner, and then after you get cleaned up for the evening and changed into only your robe. He doesn’t come by, doesn’t demand you come to his quarters. You try reading but give up after you realize you’ve been reading the same page for the past several minutes. You’ve come to regret drinking your dinner tonight instead of eating it; the faint buzz you got from two glasses of wine on an empty stomach has faded and instead left you feeling both empty and slightly nauseous, with the beginnings of a headache.

“Maybe he won’t come tonight,” you say to Idrisa as she’s getting ready to leave for the night, and the sentiment makes her hesitate.

“My apologies, Na-Baroness, but he will,” she says. “At least until you have proof of conception.

“Would you like me to stay until he arrives?” she adds, looking as awkward as you feel at the idea.

You shake your head. “It’s fine. You’re relieved. I don’t want you to have to see this, if and when it happens.”

She lowers her head in a bow and departs without another word.

You continue reading in bed, staring at the same page as you listen for any sounds, dreading each passing second.

When you hear it, a door opening and closing to your bathroom, your breath hitches, fear creeping up your spine.

You look up, watching the bathroom door, waiting, heart pounding and your breath now caught in your throat as he silently enters your bedroom.

He’s naked. For the first time he’s not erect.

You stare, frozen, your book folded open on your lap.

He looks at you and your obvious fear in your wide eyes and it doesn’t seem to amuse him this time. It doesn’t change anything, though. He’ll get what he came for.

After a moment he says, “Strip and get on all fours.”

You stare, almost incredulous at his coldness. It had been fading so rapidly over the past week you hadn’t even realized it was gone. His cruelty before came with a level of interest. His gaze is impassive, but then there’s that glint not of lust, but anger. At you, at the Baron, at his circumstances, whatever it is, you don’t want to bear the brunt of it.

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” you tell him. “We’ve done it enough that there can’t be any doubt and even if there is, we can try again later when…”

“I won’t repeat myself,” he says before you can say anything that reminds him of his past, his uncle.

You can’t really mean this. You’re not any more in the mood for this than I am, you want to tell him, as you set your book beside you and slowly unfasten your robe. You keep your eyes on him, anticipating the attack. Maybe he’ll lunge for you, you think as your heart pounds and your robe falls open. He’ll let out some inhuman noise and pounce. Your nipples pebble against the bedroom air and you notice his gaze fall there, to the exposed skin bared, but he doesn’t move.

You don’t give his cock a second look; you don’t want to know if and how aroused he is by this. You just keep your gaze on his face, impassive as ever, as you remove the robe completely, hesitating and wanting to stop, wanting to suggest that maybe the two of you talk about this.

You open your mouth, not sure what you can even say before slowly turning over on the bed, taking a deep breath, and sinking, humiliated, down on your knees and forearms.

He doesn’t move for a moment, just stands where he is, and you resist the urge to turn your head to look at him and yet you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now. Soon, though, you feel the weight of knees sinking into the mattress behind you. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to say something, to do something. For a moment, nothing, but then you hear him begin to stroke himself, breath hitching. His other hand moves along your hip, briefly squeezing the cheek of your ass before sliding his cock along your slit.

You’re not wet enough for this to be comfortable, and he doesn’t appear to care in the slightest. You wince at the first push of him inside of you, a hiss escaping your clenched teeth. It doesn’t hurt as much as it has before, and yet you hate it more and you whimper as he bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t seem to respond to your noises, just thrusts again into you, deep and hard.

He can hear you finally sob, head bowed, tears pricking up, wriggling away from him before he yanks you back onto him. His breath is harsh and his hands bruise your tender skin.

I hate this, you want to tell him. You don’t know how to explain it; it’s not even the position he’s taken nor the roughness, because you can handle both. It’s the contempt and the coldness; he doesn’t want this, would probably prefer to be alone while he’s inside of you and that bruises your ego as much as it does your sensitive insides.

If you were more experienced and more confident and not completely blind-sided by the wealth of horrific information you’ve gotten today, maybe you’d try to moan, buck your hips against it, seem like you can enjoy this to try and raise his enthusiasm but you can’t. If you knew how to play seductress to make this easier for both of you, you would.

This is what you expected on your wedding night; the cruelty in his lack of real desire, but until tonight he’d been utterly transparent about his attraction to you and it’s taken until now to understand just what a difference that makes. You’d take having your wrists tied and your ass struck and his cock cutting off your airflow any night over feeling like this.

He comes with a grunt of completion inside of you like he might as well be coming into his own fist.

The tears roll down your cheeks and as you bow your head, onto the sheets below you.

I am Lady Y/N of Y/H and the Na-Baroness of Harkonnen. I am your wife . I’m not just some hole for you to penetrate and I’m not someone you can punish for existing because you can’t punish the person who really hurt you. The words die in your throat before you can even think about saying them, and you gasp as he brusquely pulls out. Some of his seed trickles out of you and starts to dribble down the inside of one of your thighs. You don’t want to look at him. You want to slap him. You don’t understand the depths of your own anger as it builds.

He pulls away, and for a moment you think he’s going to just head back to his room as you right yourself and turn onto your side, but instead he turns back to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed and cupping your chin and cheek in one hand. He forces you to look up at him with your red-rimmed eyes, your tear-stained cheeks flush with hurt and humiliation and he sees it with that same lack of emotion that makes you want to scream. White-hot rage flares up within you, and he seems to realize what you’re about to do before you do it, before you realize you’re doing it.

You’re still crying as you spit a wad of saliva directly into his face.

He doesn’t even blink.

Instead he grabs your hair roughly, jaw tightening, and you can’t help the fear lancing up your spine, but it doesn’t completely replace your anger. He has you in his grasp and your mind draws a blank on how to apologize, maybe beg for mercy, when you’d almost rather remain in furious silence.

It’s not quite anger in his eyes, not quite lust, but it’s not that same furious look he had early this morning or the coldness he exuded before he pushed his way inside of you. He brings your face closer to his as he leans further in. He presents his cheek now coated in your spit.

There’s so much you don’t understand. No one taught you this language and this man is hard to decipher, but you’re pretty sure you know what he wants without him having to say it.

You hesitate for a moment, your lips against his cheek, before darting your tongue out and licking your own saliva off of him. They’re tentative, almost kittenish licks against his skin; you sense his breath even out and feel the fluttering of his lashes as he briefly closes his eyes, feel his jaw relax as his lips part.

I don’t get it. How does a gentle touch infuriate you but being spat on calms you down? you want to ask, as his hand relaxes in your hair and he lets you withdraw. How do you forgive a decade of being violated but not me finding out about it? How do you forgive the scars on your back but not me touching them?

He looks at you another moment.

“Your training resumes tomorrow,” he says.

“Fine,” you tell him, your voice shakier than you’d like, your anger extinguished. He seems wearier than you’d first thought.

He gets up, starts to walk away, when you remember that neither of you exchanged a word about what he’s been through, and that won’t do. Not with everything left unsaid, the horrors you’ve discovered that you know, in the quiet moments in your bed, that still haunt him.

You reach for his wrist. He looks back at you. The coldness is replaced by resignation. “There’s nothing to discuss,” he says. He’s not talking about your training. It leaks through the cold edge in his voice, the finality of it. “It’s done.”

How, though? You reopened an old wound that never properly healed, and he just wants you to quietly let it fester?

You release his wrist and he leaves, disappearing back into the bathroom and beyond to sleep in his own bed tonight.

You’re not sure what understanding you just reached. It’s not something you could have prepared for, and there’s a part of you that persistently assumes that even though he won’t talk about it, this will come up again.

You’re sinking back into bed, hoping that you’ll be able to sleep tonight after everything that’s happened, when it occurs to you: once you have a son, you can’t allow the Baron anywhere near him. Even if Feyd-Rautha has learned to live with what happened to him, and maybe even loves his uncle in a twisted sort of way you can’t really comprehend, you can’t allow the same thing to happen again. So that leaves you with several options, each seemingly more impossible than the last but no matter: you’ll have at least nine months to figure out a plan.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #feyd rautha fanfic #austin butler

44 notes · View notes

good-griief · 1 year

Text

Time ; Regret

here's part two of "time"! i'm sure you all don't want me to end it here, so even tho i think it'd be a little cruelly funny to leave it up in the air like this, i promise there will be a part three— tho that will be the last part. this part is pretty dialogue-heavy, so i hope you enjoy the 'voices' i gave the characters<33

note sorry to have to post this again but tumblr posted it at the complete wrong time from my schedule and it wasn’t the right draft :( ( some kind of phone to computer mix up idk what happened</3 )

warnings ambiguous relationship/feelings between abby and reader, reference to romance, implications of unrequited love (it's not), she/her reader, lasting effects of torture to reader, morally grey reader, mention of joel's death/torture, ambiguous/story-teller dependent interpretation of major past event between characters

tags @frogtits1 @sawaagyapong @augieee21 @sunkissedbibi @eden-nox

part one part three

link to chapter 2 on ao3

After that, Abby decided against hugging you again, knowing she’d just get emotional. She didn’t know how you’d react to that anymore, so she played her safest bet and explained what happened from a distance, offering to help you work as she did. You didn’t react, but she could tell how upset you were just because you were so quiet.

When she offered to come over that night, you agreed immediately, and when she came to your house, you opened the door with puffy red eyes and swollen lips. She gave you a somber smile. “Come on.” She opened her arms for you, holding you for a moment before she came inside. “They wouldn’t want you to cry,” she said, trying to say something comforting you might, and it coming out improperly. It made you chuckle at her attempt, making her sigh as she stepped away from you. “I’m still not the best at comforting people,” she said quietly, shutting your door behind her as she entered with a small smile. She reached out, dragging her knuckle beneath your eye to rid of any stray tears. You smiled at the gesture, gaining one from her, too.

“You’re right, though.” You blinked away your feelings, taking her hand and leading her to your room so you could sit on the bed together. There was a brief, awkward silence. “What… Uh, what happened? How did it get to this?” You asked as you released her hand, playing with your own to distract yourself.

Abby swallowed, pursing her lips. She had a feeling you’d judge her for what she did, but she wasn't going to lie. “Joel… The way we— I killed him. Tortured him in front of his brother, and killed him in front of that girl; the one he killed everyone to save. She came after us. Went through all of our friends to get to me, and… let me go.” You couldn’t tell how she felt about being left alive, but you were glad she was, placing your hand back on hers for added comfort. “Don’t.” She went to pull her hand away, but you grabbed it with both of yours. “You can be upset with me—“

“I’m not.” You shook your head, holding her hand gently. “I never should’ve given you that lead. I’m sorry.”

“I would’ve found out eventually.” She shook her head. “And I still would’ve done it…” She grimaced. “And this all would’ve happened anyway.”

“There’s no point in blaming yourself,” you sighed. “You just have to—“

“Let go? Yeah… I’ve heard that,” she scoffed, giving your hand a squeeze before she let go. “Couldn’t do it before either.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, Abby.” You shook your head at her. “You just have to accept it. It probably won’t ‘get better,’ and you’ll probably never let go, but you’ll be able to move on with your life, and not feel guilty for that. Then eventually, you’ll start to remember happier things about them, and… you’ll accept it.”

“Is that what you did? Just accept it?” Her lip sneered when she asked the question, but her brows were bent upward with a contradictory emotion.

“I wanted to go back—“

“Why didn’t you?” She asked quickly, eyes rimming red just as quickly and making you avert your gaze.

“I couldn’t…” You shrugged, forcing that same flippancy you gave Mel and Nora. “I mean… I left like a fucking coward, Ab,” you laughed at yourself. “Going back? I’d feel like a complete fool. I couldn’t face you guys— I couldn’t even face you guys four years later. The only thing I could do was keep going and try not to fucking die, I don’t know.”

“Everyone wanted you back,” she muttered, now understanding the brief encounter you had months ago.

“I didn’t think you did.” Abby frowned, the words sounding like you were singling her out. “I thought, I don’t know, even if everyone else wanted me to be there, you wouldn’t after I suggested something so stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” she said, chuckling lightly at your tone.

“It was insensitive.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t care… I didn’t even think of that, I just—“ She shook her head, sighing. “The first thing I thought when you mentioned it was that you were going to leave… I wanted to make it my choice that we wouldn’t see each other again, so I said something stupid— but if I’d just waited, let you talk, then… I would’ve realized you wanted to go together. Everyone just thought you planned on going alone.” She pursed her lips, looking away. “It was my fault everyone responded like that— don’t say it wasn’t,” she said before you could object. “No one would’ve said anything if I didn’t.”

“I didn’t care that much about what everyone else said. I figured they just thought I was going to leave you all, but… I thought you were telling me to leave for bringing it up in the first place.” You lied back on the bed so Abby wouldn’t see your face. “Even still, when I was alone, fucking terrified, the only thing I could think of was whether or not you guys were okay; how, maybe, it was better that I wasn’t there… It seemed like you guys got even closer when I saw you.”

There was a brief pause as Abby looked down at you. Clearly, you both needed to have this conversation, but it was almost impossible to have with how hard it was to sort out either of your feelings.

“The first thing I wanted to do when I realized you were gone,” she started slowly, “was go and find you; tell you that I don’t care, and if that’s what you wanted we could go. We could go to Los Angeles, or Santa Barbara, or San Francisco, or wherever the fuck you wanted to go, ‘cause I had no fucking idea what I was going to do without you… And I needed you.” The waver in her voice made you shut your eyes, taking in her words with a crease between your brows and a frown tugging at your lips. “I fucking needed you, and I just wanted to be with you, and I was scared, so I snapped at you thinking— I don’t know what I was thinking… Maybe-maybe if you knew we wouldn’t be together, then you wouldn’t go? Fuck, I just wanted you to stay with me,” she was rambling, words quick and spilling out until she caught herself, “and everyone else. Where you were safe. Where we were all safe. Together. I didn't mean to push you away.”

You had no idea what to say, staring up at the ceiling with a frown as your eyes shone beneath the warm light. You were quiet, voice small as if you knew just how wrong you were now. “I just wanted you happy,” you mumbled, hardly confident in what you used to think to yourself to justify your actions.

“Without you?” She scoffed at you. “Really?”

You shrugged, now thinking of anything that could back you up. “You had Owen.”

There was a moment of pause before Abby laughed, grabbing your pillow and hitting you with it. “Fuck you.”

“What?!” You laughed, pushing the pillow away and covering your face as she threw it at you. “You… loved him, or whatever,” you waved off, unable to hide the disdain in your voice.

“That’s what. You never liked us together.” You shrugged. “Why?”

You looked over at her, looking her up and down. “I don’t know.” You moved to sit up, huffing as you did and covering it with an exaggerated sigh. “You were my person.” There was a faint upward pull to her lips at that, but it fell quickly when she replayed the sentence in her head. She was your person, and you had stayed hers. After all those years; years of having your picture in her room or pocket, you had stayed close to her heart, but now she was nothing more than an old friend to you. “What?” You asked when you noticed her expression, reaching out and placing a hand on her thigh.

She swallowed, looking down at your hand. “Did you— Did you ever…” She stumbled over her words as she stared at your hand on her, eventually looking away. “Think about us? Any of us? I mean, you, Mel, and Nora were so close…”

You waited for her to finish, but that seemed to be the end of her sentence, so you stood. You went to your dresser, hand on your lower stomach as you grimaced but made sure to hide it from Abby. You grabbed an old jewelry box, taking it in unsteady hands and carrying it back to the bed where you set it down. Around your neck, there was a leather necklace you untied and pulled from your shirt, taking the key at the end of it and unlocking the box.

There was an old tape recorder inside. Headphones and car keys too, and a stack of photos among other trinkets.

Abby looked shocked, looking at you before reaching for the box when you nodded. The car keys, from the first time her dad taught you to drive, were tied to an old coin he’d gifted you. They were on top of an old photo of you and him in his greenhouse.

Her hands went for the other photos, looking through them and seeing how many there were of her or the two of you. You had more of your friends than you did with them; some of these photos she’d never seen before and making her brows pull together as she smiled somberly.

“When I was in Washington,” you spoke up quietly, looking at the pictures as Abby went through them. “Leah was on patrol when my group was leaving. I didn’t have many pictures of us together, so she gave me most of those… I guess she just had them with her.”

Abby smiled faintly. “She kept pictures of us with her all the time.” Her smile then fell again. “I thought you guys left immediately?”

You pursed your lips. “I needed a little extra medical attention before we could leave. She found our hiding spot.” You quickly continued before she could question you. “So I told her about how I lost one of my only pictures of us and my other tape recordings, and she just gave them to me.”

“Of us?” She looked up at you and you nodded. Abby went into her pocket, fingers digging for a wrinkled piece of paper. “I don’t have the recording with me; it's in my room, but… ” she muttered, pulling out the photo and smoothing over the water damaged paper before she handed it to you. “It’s a little ruined.”

“You had this?!” You took it, looking down at the picture and feeling your eyes burn before you moved to hug her, arms squeezing around her shoulders. “You don’t know how bad I felt about losing this, Abby.”

Her hands found your hips, awkwardly pulling you into her before her arms went around your waist to comfort you with how emotional you were getting over one picture. “It’s okay,” she tried to soothe, hand running up and down your back. “I’m glad you lost it. I finally got to keep a picture of us,” she laughed awkwardly, leaning back against your bedframe with you still in her arms. She knew you were trying to hide your face from her, so she let you stay as you were. “I actually thought you just left it behind.”

“What?” You laughed, pulling back to frown at her. She smiled at your laugh, hands still resting on your waist in case you hugged her again.

“I found it by the fire after you left.” She shrugged. “It was with your MP3.”

“So, what? You laughed again. “You thought I was burning pictures?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” She laughed, releasing you as you sat next to her with an eye roll.

Usually, you’d lean into her, or rest your head on her shoulder when you sat next to her, but now things were so different that you couldn’t just bounce back into old habits.

Every touch, every word, every glance, it was all based on feeling; some feeling that was brought up by the past before that fleeting feeling passed too, and soon, Abby was starting to realize you’d become complete strangers to one another. You hardly understood each other anymore. You weren’t certain how the other would react, or reciprocate, you didn’t even know what could be said at times. Even if you could reminisce for hours, when it came to talking and being present, there was hardly anything you could do.

It left Abby forgetting your advice and wishing she could go back to do this all over again; forget about finding Joel first and just find you. Or just go with you to California and spend the years like you did. No matter how much she wanted to go find him. No matter how much she would have regretted it.

At least you wouldn’t be a stranger to her.

Though, she had no idea how those years were for you. She didn’t know the hell you’d gone through, or the sleepless nights. No matter how much you told her that night, you didn’t tell her how you made yourself sick with guilt to the point that you had to lock all of your keepsakes away. Especially because you thought you’d lost one. She didn’t know how hard you worked to accept everything that happened, how seeing them after four years caused a rift between you and your squad to the point that they were telling you just to stay in Washington, how her showing up completely threw you off guard.

But maybe that was for the best.

Because that night, while she was wide awake, thinking of how she could find a way to know you again, you slept soundly. Sleeping through the night for once as you lied with the picture Abby left with you under your pillow.

The next morning, Abby came to the greenhouse. You smiled when you saw her, setting aside your plants to give her your full attention.

“Hey.” She smiled. “I’m going on my first patrol—“

“Already?” Your worried tone made her chuckle. “Ab, you’re still recovering.“

“I know, but I need to get back out there. I’ll go crazy if I don’t.” You grimaced, crossing your arms. “I was wondering if you’d go with me? It’s just around the island, so no combat.” You narrowed your eyes, wondering why she’d bring that up. “It’ll be quick,” she continued to try and persuade you.

“I don’t go on patrols anymore,” you told her, replacing your questioning glare with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Oh…” She didn't ask why, just nodded before reaching into her pocket. “Okay, well, I brought this with me to give back to you—“

“No, no, no. Keep it.” You took her photo out of your pocket and handed it over. “I’m sure you’ve realized these go together now. You’ve had them for years. Please.”

The way you spoke to her, so cordially it seemed formal, made her feel uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t describe. She gladly kept the items, thankful you hadn’t, but also wishing you at least seemed to want them.

“Maybe…” You looked around, all of your morning duties done for now. “Maybe I could go with you just this once,” you suggested upon seeing the look on her face.

But she didn’t want you to placate her.

“That’s alright.”

“You sure?” You frowned at the sudden change in tune.

“I’m sure there’s a reason you don’t go anymore.” She gave you a smile and you nodded.

After that day, you didn’t speak much. Lev would come for lessons, and Abby would have to get him sometimes, but slowly, she just faded into another one of your comrades; people you knew but had no relationship with. People who hardly crossed your mind on a day-to-day basis.

She overheard you with one you were closer to— one of your new friends.

“So,” she started, “you know that new girl?” She asked as Abby passed by the greenhouse on her way out to patrol. She planned to get a pouch from you, but paused to eavesdrop. “I heard she’s from Salt Lake.”

You’d hummed. “We grew up together… But I don’t really know her anymore,” you’d admitted quietly, solemn.

Your friend huffed a laugh. “You’re so dramatic. What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You chuckled. “I dunno, just… Ya know, when I did know her, she was the best person I ever met. So gentle… kind. She had a way with animals— people, too. I don’t know, she was always so perfect to me when we were younger. I probably had a little crush on her or something.” Your friend cooed at you. “But as we grew up, we were, just, so close. Her dad just took me in like family after mine was… taken.” She could hear your voice falter. “But when he was killed, things changed… Remember that tip I gave in Washington? ‘Bout Tommy.” Your friend hummed. “His brother, Joel. He was the one to kill him, and Abby… She beat him to death. In front of his brother… In front of his kid.”

She could hear the way you struggled to get the words out, biting her inner cheek. She wanted to leave, but she also wanted to know what else you’d say, waiting for you to continue.

“And I don’t even blame her. It makes me sick, but I don’t blame her ‘cause if I ever found out who destroyed my family?” Your voice darkened. “I’d do so much worse.”

“No need to justify to me,” your friend huffed, humming in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean.”

There was a pause before you spoke again “And sometimes, I wish I’d been there to see it through. To know that he’s actually dead… Or, even just to be there for her— ‘cause the girl that I knew? She never could’ve done that. I never would’ve let her get to that point; feel that way? Hurt that much but… I left her.” Your friend tried to speak over you, but you stopped her. “So, I can’t help but feel at fault for what happened to our friends. I don’t know anyone who would still want to care about me after what I did. So, I just feel like I don’t know her anymore. I can’t understand her at all.”

Abby thought of talking to you that night, telling you she overheard the conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to face you knowing how guilty you felt.

What if seeing her made you feel worse? Talking to her made you feel sick? She’d spent all these years feeling guilty, only to find out you felt the same— and now even more so because you knew how she ended up here. Like this.

She could say the same thing about you. She thought you were perfect when you were younger, she wanted to protect you as you got older, and she felt like she failed you now. Like it was her fault you felt this way. She could say the exact same things you did, which was why she kept her distance and waited for you to come to her.

She waited.

And waited.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson hcs #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson fluff #abby the last of us #abby and lev #abby anderson angst #abby anderson ff #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x you #abby x you #tlou abby #tlou x reader

145 notes · View notes

arkiliastuff · 3 months

Text

Prologue - In a Concrete Jungle

Noah Sebastian x OFC (Aurey)

(pictures edited by me. Originals url linked on the pictures.)

A/N : I thought about this one for a while and, even though I have a lot of other fanfics that are waiting to be finished/written, I wanted to share this one in particular with you :D It's been on my mind for months, the lore maturing in my head. It's going to be a LOT different from what I usually write but I'm trying things and despite the dark mood in this story I hope you'll enjoy it as well ! :D

Warnings/Tags : Strangers/Enemies to Lovers trope, violence, blood, post-apocalyptical universe, cyber-futuristic vibe, "no god, no religion" vibe (I don't mean any form of disrespect in any religion), mention of trauma, death, loss, drugs, mental and physical abuse, trust and abandonment issues. (Just in case MDNI please).

Disclaimer : I haven’t read the comic book “Concrete Jungle” written by Noah Sebastian and illustrated by many cover artists such as Nicola Izzo, Jeremy Wilson and many more, so I don’t know much about the lore and the universe. I just got inspired by the song and the few panels of the comic book that I saw about it. The rest is a pure work of my imagination and it’s not related to anything official. Nothing is canonically official. This is totally fanfiction. And so this is how I pictured the world in the song “Concrete Jungle”.

~The little bean taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @talialovesmiw -> ask me if you want to be tagged :D

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━

She walked there, in this desolate landscape, with a strong determination. Two girls who seemed to look like her friends were following her, looking behind them briefly. Probably afraid of someone or something that will come after them. After all, they went out without authorization. They went out in this no man’s land, caused by gangs and mafias. Many civilians had perished because of this war. The survivors were hiding underground, in the subway. The reason why they went outside was because one of them, a girl with glasses and blue eyes, forgot her necklace at the church where she always went to pray. So after complaining to her friends about her precious loss, the strong-willed brunette who was among them decided to go and get the necklace back. The two other friends eventually followed her even though they were feeling nervous about disobeying.

“If we hurry, we will be back in no time” She said, trying to reassure her anxious friends.

And so, just like the bold brown-haired girl said, they arrived at the place. The church had been bombed. The two girls felt sad about the destruction, but the leader didn't seem to be moved by it. Instead, she was more focused on her mission, looking for the necklace, while making sure nobody would come to arrest them. She was in hypervigilance, almost looking paranoid. She looked everywhere under the seats and chairs that were still there until she saw something shiny. She reached for it and then wiped the dust on it. It was a crux with a silver chain.

“I found it, Faith.” She stated, calling for her friend.

The latter one walked towards her, analyzing what she found before realizing what it was.

“It's my necklace ! Thank you so much, Audy !” Faith replied happily, using the usual friendly nickname for her friend.

The latter one just nodded in silence, her focus back on her group and looking for their second friend.

“Where is Daisy ?”

The two of them looked around the ruined church before they saw the red-haired girl who was near some candles next to a shrine of prayer. She lit up a candle and prayed in silence for their sake. Faith joined Daisy, lighting up a candle as well while Audy was watching them, starting to get annoyed.

“Come on guys, we cannot stay here too long.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Daisy replied.

A few seconds later a breeze came through, extinguishing the timid flames on the two candles. From this moment, Faith and Daisy stood up and stopped praying, turning on their heels at the same time towards Audy.

“We’re done.” The first one said.

“The Lord has heard our prayers.” The second added.

“What ? Already ? But you just lit the candles a few minutes ago” Audy replied, confusion in her eyes.

“It is the way it is. It’s probably a good omen” Faith said.

“Wait.. Let me just light the candles again.” The brunette said sheepishly.

As she was going slowly to the shrine, about to light the candles with another one, both of her friends widened their eyes in shock, attempting to stop her.

“DON’T !” Daisy yelled.

“DON’T DO IT, AUDREY ! You’re disrespecting His words !”

The long browned-haired one stopped her movement in the air, the spark just above the candle’s wick reaching it slowly but surely. Then, she looked at Faith and Daisy, an angry and dead gaze in her dark eyes.

“Even if I lit up those candles again, do you think it would change a fucking thing for what happened to our city ? To our families ? To our friends ?” She replied, clenching her teeth together as she spat her words like venom, anger getting the best of her, before she continued.

“No, it wouldn’t. Don’t take that fucking breeze as a sign from your Lord, ‘cause you two know better that, if He wanted to help us, He would have done it already. We are responsible for our own downfall. For our own misery. And no Gods will ever help us. Only the demons that you’re afraid of will answer us because they're close to what we are.”

After that, she saw the shock on her friends' faces, trying to reach out to her and yelling at her that she was irreverent by saying those words. It was the shock before the sound of something falling as fast as lightning just dropped on the ruined church. And then everything exploded. Bricks of the building were thrown away at Daisy and Faith’s head, knocking them out immediately. Audrey got hit as well, feeling her blood flowing from her face before blurring her vision. The last thing she saw was her two friends on the ground, blood running from their heads. Then, it went completely white.

━─━「₪」━─━

Aurey woke up, sweating all over her body as she was panting, trying to gain some air. She put a hand on her forehead, trying to wipe the sweat away and checking it. There wasn’t any blood. She sighed in relief but not too long. She knew it couldn’t be just a dream.

“This wasn’t just a nightmare” She whispered to herself, knowing too well this situation.

She stood up, got her gear on her and packed her stuff together before leaving the spot where she slept. She knew she shouldn’t have slept there.

It was a small cave of collapsed buildings parted together which were composed of cables, metal pieces of broken engines everywhere.

It could crumble any minute. But she took the risk anyway, as she felt this one was more safe. She didn’t know how long she slept but she was aware it was late. Once she got out, she covered her nose as she smelled an heavy and toxic smoke. It was the smell of somewhat burned vehicles and trash cans not that far away. It was, probably, another threat from a gang who were arguing again in the city.

She put her customized respirator on, breathing again. Then, she started to climb up the ruins, reaching for a higher spot to get a better view. She climbed a few minutes after finding a window, which gave a great opening view from below. She took her binoculars out of her pocket and started to look around.

Through it, Aurey saw a usual wildfire in the city, on her right. She could barely hear the sound of gunshots. A lot was happening and she hoped her teammates could handle it while she went patrolling on her own. Suddenly she saw something blinking, in the corner of her left lens. She turned a bit more to her left and saw a black car entering the Nameless City. She had never seen a car like this before. This was the first time that she had witnessed new people arriving. Who could they be ? And why were they coming into this hell hole ? She made a mental note to herself to keep an eye on this vehicle and the people who were in it.

Meanwhile, Noah was lost in his thoughts as they were passing through the barbed wire gate of the city. He was just getting bored of the trip, having no idea why they got a call to come here. His partners and best friends in the car told him it was a well-paid mission, but he wasn’t really convinced by it. They had to do some cleanup as they were told. And given the sight of the city it seemed this town needed it. What was left of the police authorities were just broken cars, with no more tire or windows. They probably run away from all the chaos, just to survive somewhere else. Just being out of this mess. Noah kept staring through the window, his chin in the palm of his tattooed hand, just looking at all the clutter those crumbled buildings had made.

“A real concrete jungle…” He muttered.

Then he heard a howl. He was taken by surprise, not expecting to hear such a sound in this kind of city. He listened again, opening his window just to hear it more clearly. Another howling. It wasn’t human. It sounded more like an animal.

“ What was that ? Did you guys heard that ?” He said, his eyes widened as he couldn’t believe his ears.

"Heard what ?" Folio asked, not really paying too much attention to their surroundings.

"A howl. It sounded like a coyote. Or was it a wolf ?" Noah continued, his ears attentive to any other sound.

But the howling animal had stop. He still had no idea what his friends and him were getting into but he promised himself to investigate this strange city.

#bad omens #bad omens fanfic #concrete jungle #bad omens band #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #joakim jolly karlsson #nick ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson #noah sebastian x ofc #in a concrete jungle fic #concrete jungle fic

48 notes · View notes

scribbling-dragon · 6 months

Text

don't turn out the lights (kiss yourself goodnight)

summary:

“Hi,” Martyn continues to grin, even as it turns awkward and even guiltier. “I'm coming over. Can I come over?” Martyn pauses on the bridge then, as though just realising his presence might be unwanted after ditching him all morning. “I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way.

(ao3 link)

(7,119 words)

[hi! talking in bold so this catches your eyes ooOOooo anyway! this is the FINAL PART of this series! it's done! this is the end! meaning, everyone dies in this fic. there's your warning! there's gonna be death, injury, blood, etc. all the fun stuff! so just keep that in mind when you read it. also! it'd be really nice if you could reblog this because it took me a long time and i put a buncha effort into it! comments in the tags are even cuter- they let me know you liked it! i write for fun but i post because i want other people to also enjoy what i make, letting me know that you did quite literally makes my day.

anyway! hope u enjoy! <33]

The Isles is almost eerily quiet.

It is expected. The losses they had experienced only a day prior are enough to stun even the loudest of people into silence. It seems their world is only mirroring their mourning, not even birds singing to greet the dawn. Instead, it leaves everyone to prepare for their day, silence permeating the air around them. Even the sun appears muted, watery, as it tiredly heaves itself over the edge of the water, already beginning to chase away the deep purples of night.

He doubts any of them will be around to see another miserable sunrise such as this one.

Scott runs a cloth over the dull edge of his sword, wiping the dried blood away as best as he can manage with only a scrap of damp fabric. It’s already stained red, beyond any kind of repair. The dried blood remains stubborn, clinging to his blade as the last few echoes of others’ lives.

It flakes away as he scrapes against it with a single, sharp nail. The dried blood of friend and foe alike clumps together as it gathers beneath his nail, forcing him to stop his task and pick it out once he can no longer stand the feeling of it. He flicks it to the ground beneath him, hoping the flecks of red will become lost amongst the yellowing grass he sits upon. He still finds his eyes picking it out, like berries nestled amongst the dry stalks of grass that are determined to catch his eyes whenever he glances over.

He pauses at the sound of creaking floorboards above him, a few grains of sand pattering down onto his head. He cocks his head to the side and listens a little more intently as more creaking follows. Martyn had still been sleeping when he got up, curled comfortably in their shared bed. Scott had been tempted to stay and enjoy the peace a little longer, but his own mind was restless.

He hadn’t wanted to disturb the last few peaceful moments Martyn would probably get before this is all over, rising and attending to small tasks that didn’t really need to be done; tasks that were there to busy the hands rather than be productive. He doesn’t have that sort of time to waste, still target number one, certainly, his clock ticking down from higher numbers than everyone else, but his time is as limited as the rest of them.

His sword had been cleaned and sharpened. The blade, previously coated in dried blood so thick you could barely see its shimmer now gleams in the rapidly strengthening sunlight.

The purple hue of the skyline has been almost completely wiped away, leaving a pink sky in its wake. The light of it dyes the ocean a deep red, churning against the edges of their island as though it can hardly wait to devour it all once they're gone.

He continues to listen as footsteps echo overhead, uninterested in continuing to prepare for murdering his friends, waiting for Martyn to poke his head through the doorway and begin chattering away. He’s always more talkative in the morning, as though he has to make up for not speaking all night.

He looks over at the sound of a quiet splash, sitting up and sword forgotten as he stands a moment later. He pokes his head out of their storage room, watching as Martyn swims away from their island and towards the mainland. He dips beneath the waves a few times, swimming quickly.

Scott lingers in the doorway, watching as Martyn emerges onto the sandy shoreline, not even bothering to rid himself of the water he’d collected on his trip over as he usually would. Instead, he looks around, searching for…something. Scott isn’t certain what it is that he’s searching for – they hadn’t even had a conversation yet that morning to go over what should be done, who to avoid, who to target – and apparently not find it as he trudges into the treeline, quickly disappearing into the murky darkness that seems to cling to any dark oak forest, still soaking wet from his short swim.

Scott withdraws into their storage room, confused and more than a little hurt. His mind races a mile a minute, barely giving him a moment to process anything before he’s thinking of another potential explanation. Did they have a conversation last night that indicated Martyn was going to do something like this? Did Martyn assume he had already left and gone searching for him?

Only, Martyn had swum over there like a man possessed, like he would die if he didn’t reach the shoreline as quickly as he did. And yet – and yet – the moment he reached his destination he had looked around, as though uncertain of where to go.

Scott likes to think that he can read Martyn quite well, after the multiple times they’ve gone through these games together, and also the time they’ve spent together on this very island. He likes to think he can read Martyn well. And the way Martyn had looked around, on that shoreline, had not been with the intent of finding something lost, it had been done with the confusion of someone that had walked into a room and forgotten what they were going to do.

But, there’s no point in catching up with him yet. No reason to dive after him and catch up; see if he can shake any answers loose from the man. Not when he still has arrows to make and a bow to restring.

They can talk later. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

=== === ===

“Now, I'm not a professional,” he tells Cleo, hopping down a few more blocks and squeezing into the gap he’d left for himself. There’s no redstone involved in this, only the tiny guide in the back of his head that’s jumping between steps as he attempts to remember how to do this, struggling to reconcile the new information he had with the idea that he’d already gotten it right.

He’d done it wrong last time, his hands still stinging from the hot blast that had gotten him before he managed to shove his shield in front of himself, letting that take the brunt of the explosion rather than absorbing it with his face.

“Never said you were,” he feels a shadow fall over him as Cleo leans down to peer at what he’s doing. “Reckon you're gonna blow the both of us up again?”

“I wouldn’t stand so close,” he chuckles, feeling rather than seeing as Cleo steps back. He slowly, carefully, places another bundle of TNT into the minecart, feeling the thing rattle with the weight of how much TNT he’s shoved into it. The sculk clings to his hands as he sets it down onto the block, gripping onto him as he attempts to pull away, unwilling to release him.

He continues pulling his hands back until the sculk accepts its loss, releasing his fingers and withdrawing back to the dirt block he’d provided for it. He watches as it curls itself into the dirt block, then simply engulfs it. He has no better words to describe the way it simply spreads over the block, too fast for him to even track with his eyes, until the entire patch is made of sculk.

He withdraws even more carefully, slowly easing himself out of the hole. He’s aware of the way the dirt clings around his shoulders. One wrong move could set off the trap he’s just spent the better part of ten minutes setting up, and he’d probably be blown to bits alongside it.

Cleo waits until he’s completely free of the hole before continuing to speak. “Where’s your other half today? Didn’t think you came as a single package anymore.”

“Very funny,” he forces a laugh as he turns to glare at them. “I don't know,” he answers. Not at all bitterly. “He ran off this morning before I could even get a chance to speak with him, went off to do…something.”

He sees Cleo frown, eyebrows creasing together. “And you haven’t tried to find him?”

“He needs something, then he’ll find me.” He dismisses Cleo’s worries easily – he’s been dismissing his own all morning, ignoring them in order to actually get anything done. Dismissing Cleo’s probing questions and slightly worried glances is far easier. “He’s been acting all funny recently anyway. If he’s gone off to sort himself out, then that’s fine.”

“Wait, Scott,” Cleo moves around him, pressing their hands down onto the small tunnel entrance and blocking him from poking around in there a little more. He leans back on his heels, knees digging into the ground as he glares up at her. “That’s not at all like Martyn. He sticks around other people as best as he can, even if it means bouncing between several groups. You're telling me he’s disappeared and you're not even worried?”

“Of course I'm worried, Cleo.” He huffs out a breath, resisting for only a moment before he raises his hands to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. It relieves a little of his stress, and also means he doesn’t have to look them in the eye anymore. “But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just have to wait and sit tight and hope he shows up.”

“You said he was acting weird,” Cleo asks, after the silence has hung between them for a moment. “Weird…how?”

“I don't know,” he sighs, dropping his hands. Cleo stares at him. “Ugh, I guess, like, spacing out? He was acting really weird after, uh, yesterday and the whole,” he waves a hand, “canary business. But I thought that was just the shock of all that, and then all the stuff after that. I didn’t even speak to him this morning, but there was this weird air around him. It was really fucking strange, Cleo, and I don't even know what it means!”

“Yeah, alright, alright,” Cleo hesitates for a moment, before patting him on the shoulder. “I think that’s just how he gets at this point. I think he was like this last time? I’d have to repeat myself several times for literally anything to get through to him.”

“I keep forgetting you were partnered with him last time,” he huffs out a laugh. “So he just gets like this every time? Why doesn’t anyone say anything?” He pauses. “Have you said anything?”

“To Martyn? No.” Cleo glances over at a shout from the Clock Tower, then back at him. “To anyone else? …Also no. I didn’t think it was my place to pry or ask around, and I guess that’s the common sentiment. Maybe he’s done it every single time. Maybe he only started doing it last time. Who knows? Maybe he's just gone insane.”

“Pretty sure that’s Joel you're thinking of,” he jokes, and then regrets when it opens up a pit in his stomach.

“Maybe go find him,” Cleo says. They both ignore the slightly heavier air around both of them, the mention of Joel souring their moods rather quickly.

“Yeah,” he brushes the dirt from his hands. “Yeah, I will.” He stands, eyeing the inconspicuous path ahead of them. “Thanks, Cleo.”

“No problem. Hope you find him.”

So do I, Scott doesn’t say. Hope you're still kicking around when I’ve found him, he keeps to himself too. He knows the Clockers aren’t doing well for time, all of their clocks far lower than his own, even after donating some of his time to Scar earlier.

He can feel Cleo watching him. Maybe they're giving him some of their own well wishes.

=== === ===

Going onto Skynet is never his favourite thing. But he’s been poking around on the ground for long enough that he’s rather certain Martyn isn’t hanging around there. Unless he’s dug himself into a hole underground as it currently hiding there until his clock runs out, he’s not on ground-level.

Meaning, into the skies he goes. The ladder is wonky and the rungs are thin enough that they threaten to snap under every step he takes upwards.

He can feel his hands growing sweaty the higher he ascends, nervousness making him glance down and come to terms with just how high he was in the air. With nothing to support him but a quickly and shoddily built ladder to nowhere.

He hauls himself up onto the main chunk of Skynet, grateful for the ground beneath his feet; solid despite being a thousand feet in the air. A drop from here would definitely kill him. A real risk, he realises, when an arrow thunks into the ground at his feet.

He glances over in the direction where it came from, dropping into a crouch. He’s not certain whether that shot was a mistake or a warning. It could have been fully intended to send him stumbling backwards and over the edge. But another arrow doesn’t follow, leaving him staring across the gap between their bridges, the group of three staring back at him.

…Three?

He can just barely see Etho crouched behind the makeshift wall he’s thrown up, the very tips of fuzzy white ears peeking over the edge of the dirt barricade, and Tango beside him is distinctive with his hair aflame. Meaning, no, his eyes are not deceiving him; Martyn really is crouched over with the other two, watching as they shoot at him.

He straightens up, almost planting his hands on his hips and yelling across the gap then and there. For Martyn to just ditch him earlier, and then for Scott to find him with people that have been relentlessly hunting him? Unacceptable. He only holds his tongue because shouting across such a wide gap is embarrassing, and not at all conducive to a proper conversation.

He stares across the gap a little longer, before holding a hand up in the universal gesture for wait.

He then takes a very brave step away from the main landing pad at the top of the ladder, the bridge narrowing even further and leaving him running quickly across the thin branches of Skynet. He keeps his shield held loosely at his side, and can only pray that Etho and Tango – or, gods forbid, Martyn – decide to get in an easy kill and shoot him.

He gets onto the same bridge as them before they start shooting at him, close enough for Scott to start talking to Martyn, even if it means he has to yell to be heard.

“Etho!” He jerks to the side as an arrow skims past his face, close enough that he can hear it whistle as it passes him. “No need!”

He hears Etho chuckling easily enough, even hunkered down behind his own makeshift shelter, only daring to peek over the edge once a moment has passed and his heart no longer threatens to leap from his chest. Martyn, Etho and Tango all peek back at him, lined up near perfectly. Scott might be tempted to take a photo if he wasn’t so irritated.

Another arrow shoots past his face and he scowls, pulling his own bow out and firing right back at them. He sees Tango jump in place and duck down as the arrow goes right over his head, far too high to actually hit anyone.

Several arrows embed themselves in the front of his small defence within a few minutes, making it easy to reach over and collect them up, adding them to his own quiver. “I've got arrows for days!” he calls over to them, grinning and urging them to continue shooting at him.

He notches another arrow, back pressed against his barricade before popping back up again, aiming and ready to fire.

Martyn visibly startles when he reappears, halfway across the bridge connecting them. He almost falls, Scott thinks, teetering dangerously on the edge as he readjusts his balance, shield held cautiously but not protectively in front of himself.

“Martyn,” he warns, not releasing his arrow but not dropping the bow either. He keeps it carefully trained on Martyn’s face, even as Etho and Tango continue to watch the two of them curiously. Martyn glances upwards from where he’d been watching his feet, smiling guiltily. Good.

“I don't know if I should let you,” he says. It’s not an answer either way. Something that Martyn seems to realise too, as he doesn’t keep moving forward, remaining rooted in place on the stupidly thin bridges that TIES built on a whim and everyone else decided to use. “Why are you with them?” He jerks his bow towards Etho and Tango, taking it off Martyn for a single second.

A single second which is, apparently, long enough for Martyn to run across the rest of the space and drop down beside him, both of them huddled far too close behind this too-small barricade. His knee knocks against Martyn’s, their legs pressing together when he lets them. He’s twisted awkwardly to continue aiming the bow at Etho and Tango, reluctant to take his eye off of them even if Martyn demands his attention with pleading eyes.

“Because I've not seen you yet today,” Martyn’s hand is warm on his arm. Near burning at the point of contact as he pulls at him, urging him to lower his bow. He holds the string of his bow tense for only a moment longer before heaving a great sigh and loosening it gradually, allowing the arrow to fall free from where it had been notched and into his open palm. Martyn continues, seeing him giving in, “I woke up and there was no-one here. There, wherever,” Martyn shrugs. “And then I just…” he trails off, eyes sliding to the side.

The hand on his arm slackens a little, turning from a comforting grip to a weight on his arm. The point of contact no longer burns, his skin warming up and adjusting to the sudden heat of another person.

“And then you just…?” Scott prompts, frowning when Martyn doesn’t give him a response. He’s still watching something off to the side, but when Scott turns to look where he is, there’s nothing there. No person trying to kill them or mysterious floating entity that would cause the kind of look Martyn currently has in his eyes.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of Martyn’s face, frowning when that continues to get no response from him. He rests his hand on Martyn’s cheek, growing even more concerned when that fails to get a reaction from him, sliding his thumb along Martyn’s cheekbone. His hand slips lower to cradle Martyn’s face, bringing his other hand to pat him on the cheek, like trying to wake someone up.

Martyn blinks, eyes refocusing, and then jolts. Scott holds onto him, keeping him in place as he regains his bearings from…whatever the hell just happened.

“When’d you get so close?” Martyn asks, clearly going for joking and missing it by miles. He lands somewhere around confused and worried instead, which only concerns Scott more.

Scott pauses for a moment, considering his next step. “Aw,” he tilts his head to the side, thumb still brushing against Martyn’s cheek affectionately. “Don't tell me you got so caught up in seeing me that you forgot to pay attention?”

Martyn laughs, leaning in a little closer, close enough that their noses are just shy of touching. His eyes are completely focused now, not drifting over Scott’s shoulder to look at something only Martyn can see. It eases something in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was so tight until it loosened all of a sudden.

“Well, it really is quite easy to get lost in your eyes. The depths of them are like an unexplored ocean-”

He shoves Martyn away from him with a laugh. “Don't you start with that,” he warns, mock angry as he wags his finger at Martyn. “That’s a terrible pick-up line, and one that doesn’t even work right now! My eyes are as red as they can be, so don't be silly.”

“Then your eyes are like the ocean in the morning,” Martyn counters. “Did you not see how red it was this morning? Like the sunrise itself had spilled into the waters.”

“How romantic of you.” He doesn’t mention how this morning was the only time the waters were dyed such a colour by the rising sun. Martyn wouldn’t know that, as a late riser, but Scott has watched those waters shimmer beneath the sunrise every morning since they were dumped here.

“Get a room!” Etho very bravely yells over at them, still hiding behind his barricade. “We wanna get past you!”

“Run on past then!” Scott yells back. “What’s there to be scared of!”

“What we might see!” Tango contribute, popping up beside his teammate. “I don't know what you two’re doing behind that!”

Scott scoffs in disgust at the idea. Not only is the entire place made of dirt, but they're also miles in the sky. Not exactly something he’d jump at the idea of.

“Go the other way then!” he yells, getting to his feet. He pulls his shield up just in case, but no arrows come his way. He offers Martyn his hand as he watches half of TIES (two-thirds, his brain supplies helpfully. Two-thirds.) deliberate over their next course of action.

“Cowards!” Martyn yells as Etho begins retreating.

Scott laughs at the offended noise Tango makes, loud enough for them both to hear it. Laughing is easier than thinking about what just happened. Easier than turning Cleo’s words over and over in his mind.

Easier to take Martyn’s hand and lead him away as though none of that happened at all.

=== === ===

He can see Etho watching him as he climbs, ears twisted backwards and crossbow held at the ready. He’s just as pleased to be up here as Etho is. All roads lead to Skynet, apparently, meaning he’s back on the hellish thing, praying that nothing breaks.

“We’re just here to talk,” he assures, crouching on the lip of cobblestone just above the ladder, reaching a hand down slowly for Martyn to take. He feels it slot into his hand easily, burning hot against freezing cold.

“Promise?” Etho keeps his crossbow held tightly in his hands. Not that Scott blames them. This is the time for temporary alliances, certainly, but he doubts anyone is above faking a temporary alliance to get closer to someone just to kill them.

“Promise.”

Martyn settles onto the ledge beside him, though Martyn sits down, legs swinging off the edge as he watches Martyn. Scott remains crouched, one hand flat against the cobbles, hunched over like some kind of gargoyle.

He probably looks like one, too. Fish-like spines and fins make it rather hard to hide the changes he’s undergone since going red. The scales layering over his skin and remaining thick until his elbows make it even more so. He can only be glad that he still has his legs, or that It didn’t decide to give him some kind of tail to weigh him down further.

“Okay,” Etho takes a step closer, and, in an incredible show of good faith, tucks his crossbow away so none of them have any weapons. “Let’s talk, then.”

Scott grins, more than a little satisfied with himself. It’s always risky reaching out for another alliance this late in the game, but taking the risk is better than leaving the ending unknown. This is a way for them to have a better shot at winning.

“The biggest hour- time, thingy, is the Nosy Neighbours,” he starts. “Pearl and Grian have the most time right now.”

“And they're a pretty strong team,” Etho glances over in the direction of the Neighbours’ tower, expression considering. “There’s three of them in it.”

Martyn hums something that vaguely sounds like agreement, but when Scott looks over at him, he’s staring off into space again, not at all registering the space around them. Scott shuffles a little closer to him, pressing his hip into his side in the hopes that the contact can bring him back from wherever his mind has wandered off to. Contact has helped, in the previous moments where he’s been like this.

“And we’re two sets of two,” Scott says. He feels momentarily guilty for pointing it out when Etho looks saddened by the reminder that Tango is gone now, too.

“Well,” Etho rocks back on his heels. “I can’t find Impulse at the moment- not a clue where he’s wandered off to.”

Maybe Etho’s words summon him, because Scott watches a blur plummet down onto the Mansion, disappearing under the water for a moment before resurfacing. Even from their distance, he’s able to make out the distinctive yellow ‘i’ on his shirt.

“Grian fell from Skynet,” Martyn says, blinking back to reality.

“Uh, no,” he gives Martyn a confused look from the corner of his eye. “That’s Impulse.”

“I- what?” Martyn glances over at the Mansion, “Oh! Yeah, yeah, that’s Impulse. Yeah.”

Etho gives them a funny look, eyes squinting as he studies Martyn.

“We can summon him over here,” Scott says, distracting Etho before he can ask too many questions. He’d been hanging out with Martyn earlier, could have seen his spacy-ness. Could identify it as something to be used later. Something that Scott would prefer him not to do. “Tell him we have Etho.”

“Like some kind of hostage situation?”

“Ooh, yeah,” Martyn nods along with Etho’s suggestion. “Let’s take him hostage.”

“Or we can just go down and meet him?” Etho suggests. He doesn’t look excited at the hostage idea, go figure. “I don't want to make him climb all the way back up for nothing.

“I don't really want to climb all the way back down there,” he complains, but its for nought as Etho clambers up to where they're sitting, leading the (very slow) charge down to the base of the ladder. His arms feel shaky by the time he reaches the bottom, from both exertion and exhaustion. He feels like he hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

Scott taps out the message on his comm, feet firmly planted into the nice sandy ground below him. It’s a comfort, to be back on truly solid ground again, even with the TIES’ wonky tower casting a slightly uneven shadow over them all.

<Smajor1995> come to us

He follows behind Martyn and Etho absently as he continues to type, hopping over the small blast craters easily and circling around the larger ones just as easily. He has to pause for a moment to bat away a zombie, sword slashing straight through its chest and sending it dissolving into a pile of dust.

<Smajor1995> we have etho

He knows its an ominous message to leave it on, especially when the two of them have been separated for who knows how long. Etho chuckles a little at it, but doesn’t send a message to reassure his teammate. A sense of urgency makes for swift feet, and they want to deal with the Neighbours as quickly as possible, he supposes. Better to do it now than when their timers are about to run out.

“What do you mean you have Etho?!” Scott spins on the spot to greet Impulse.

“As a friend!” he calls back. “We have Etho as a friend!” A skeleton shoots him as he speaks, managing to actually hit him when he’s sluggish on putting his shield up. It’s enough to make him realise how surrounded by mobs they’ve gotten, closed in on all sides, each of them beating back at least two mobs at a time.

“Let’s go!” he calls out, looking around for a place for them to actually go. He only manages to spot the little cave entrance by chance, remembering the little nook beyond that they can hunker down in for the night. Martyn catches up with him quickly when he realises where Scott’s heading. “Told you framing it like we had Etho as a hostage would work.”

“Yeah, wasn’t you he tried to run through with his sword.” Martyn mutters.

“He didn’t try to run you through with his sword,” he rebukes softly, speaking quieter as they enter the cave, aware that their voices will echo over to the following pair.

“He was thinking it,” Martyn says darkly. “I could sense it; hear it in the air.”

Scott doesn’t even get to ask what the hell that means, because Impulse is suddenly slamming the door shut and saying something about “not letting the zombies in too!”

The plan is laughably easy to make, once they get over their bickering and the small taunts they throw at each other. It’s hard not to point out Impulse’s attempts to blow him up earlier, something that Impulse receives with good grace and lets go as water under the bridge.

It’s only worrying how often Martyn spaces out, only ever chiming back in with something that nearly has Scott questioning how he knows Grian is currently away from the base, or that Pearl is up on Skynet, nevermind that all of them are underground and have been for the better part of twenty minutes, formulating the plan they're going to use to try and eliminate their biggest threat. How Martyn knows this is a mystery, but not anything that anyone is questioning, for some reason?

It doesn’t stop Scott from inching a little closer, until they're close enough to touch. So Scott can make sure he’s still real, still there. Not yet gone and seeing things that only the dead are meant to see.

It’s unnerving, how Martyn’s eyes go far away when he thinks about something, considers a question that he realistically shouldn’t have the answer to.

It’s terrifying when he tilts his head to the side, as though angling himself to listen to something more intently.

=== === ===

Oh this is new, he thinks, when he enters the tower that he knows BigB is in, and there’s no-one there. He holds his sword steady, laughing a little as he looks around.

He’s not invisible, no small swirls of smoke giving away his position as he moves. There’s absolutely no indication of where BigB is, other than the faint impression that there’s a person right in front of him.

“Oh, you're invisible,” he says aloud, mostly to himself.

“Am I?” BigB’s voice comes from a little to the left, and he swings for it, sword sweeping in a wide arc as he hopes it catches on flesh. It jerks to a stop as it embeds itself in…some part of BigB. He stares hard at that spot in front of him, but his eyes refuse to focus, sliding away whenever he tries to look for longer than a second.

“You are,” he confirms, ignoring BigB’s small grunt of pain as he yanks his sword back towards himself, holding it up defensively. This entire fight just got a lot harder if BigB isn’t the one doing this. It can only be one other doing this, sabotage against him. Something to make him fall a little easier. He loses track of where BigB is, the empty tower around them making his footsteps echo and hard to track. “I'm sure this fight will be easy enough, though.”

“No it won’t!”

Gotcha.

He swings around, spinning on the heel of his foot to make it quicker, flipping his sword at the last moment and slamming the blunt edge of his blade into BigB’s side, winding him rather than slicing him in half.

He swings his sword up to block at the shing of a blade being unsheathed, feeling the invisible weapon press down against his hands, heavy and forcing him to bend beneath it. He bends his knees, sinking a little lower. BigB laughs, excited at this upper hand he’s gained.

Scott holds it a little longer, ignoring the way his arms begin to shake from the strain. Only when he’s certain BigB is pressing most of his weight down against him does he slip away, dropping his sword and darting out of range as fast as he can.

‘As fast as he can’ is apparently not fast enough, feeling the cool metal of a blade dig into his back before he manages to slip completely away, hissing through clenched teeth at the burning sensation that quickly spreads over his back.

“Hah!” BigB cheers at this small victory, even as Scott turns back to face him. The wavering outline of something vaguely resembling a person is all he has to go off of. It’s like the wavering air above stone on a hot day. “Still confident?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. He ignores the way he has to readjust his grip on his sword, hand sweaty as he backs up another step. Whatever invisibility gift this is, it’s not fair. He has a rather good idea of who is doing this, and he cusses them out silently in his mind. Maybe They’ll be able to hear his swearing. “You think I’ll go down that easily?”

He can feel the blood soaking through his shirt rather quickly. For a surface wound, it’s bleeding a lot, and really quite painful.

He still swings when BigB comes at him again, the sound of feet on the cobbles his only indicator. Swinging in such a wide arc wrenches something in his shoulder, and he swears he can feel the flesh tearing further, strained apart like the threads of a garment, stretched beyond breaking point.

In the end, BigB catches him unawares. A rather easy feat, considering he can’t see the other man.

He gasps at the feeling of a blade piercing his flesh, stumbles back – tries to stumble backwards, finds himself stuck on whatever weapon he’s just been impaled with. The weapon he can’t see, but his mind still registers the pain pain pain of a slow death. Still registers the blood blossoming around the puncture.

He can see his insides, vaguely and through a distorted lens. It warps, as though he should be seeing something other than the tearing of his blood vessels and his parted flesh. He can see organs you're not meant to see, curled around himself in the way that he is, can see the puncturing of these probably vital organs which is not a good sign for his continued survival. His flesh is darker than he thought it would be, and bleeds for far longer than he expects.

He lasts far longer than he expected, shallow breaths wheezing out of him as he crumples to the ground.

“Woah, hey,” hands he can’t see lay over his arms, the faint feeling of pressure against his skin the only thing his mind registers. He can see his skin indent where hands press against his forearms, idents that can only be created by hands holding onto him. Hands that he cannot, for some reason, see. “It’ll be over in a sec, I’m sure.”

Scott tilts his head back and allows himself a small groan. He’s bleeding out slowly and sluggishly, he thinks he can afford a singular moment of pain amongst this shitshow.

He almost reaches the point of asking BigB to just slit his throat when the room spins dizzying circles around him, and words are coming from an unseen mouth, unseen hands brushing up and down his arms in what is probably meant to be a reassuring gesture, but is actually just unnerving.

He chokes on the blood in his mouth, and wakes with it still coating his teeth.

=== === ===

“Do you want to get BigB again?” Martyn asks, turning to him with a gleam in his eyes.

Scott hasn’t decided whether he likes this new Martyn yet or not. The Martyn of earlier, with his listless expression and drifting thoughts was not fun to deal with nor exciting to observe, but the Martyn of the here and now, the Martyn with an anticipatory gleam in his eye and a pep in his step at the thought of killing someone else is also not reassuring.

“Not really,” he replies, as casually as he can. “I got my time back from him.”

“And you don't want more?”

“Uh, not really, no.” He and Martyn are alone right now, Impulse and Etho splitting off from their little group momentarily. He doubts they’ll join back together again, everyone’s clocks hanging far too low to trust someone you only made a temporary alliance with.

(For just a moment, Scott wishes they’d come back. Come and act as a buffer between him and the ally that he no longer recognises. The gleam in his eye is dangerous, it warns. A herald of what is to come. He considers, briefly, slipping away into the night and disappearing until his clock runs out of time. Until that last grain of sand in his hourglass slips through and buries him completely. He’s not sure he wants to see what will happen if it’s just him and Martyn. When it’s just him and Martyn.)

“Alright,” Martyn drags the word out, as though he doesn’t believe him. Maybe he doesn’t, with the red-blindness that seems to descend onto everyone at this point, looming over their shoulders like a particularly grim reminder. He can almost hear the clocks ticking down, beat by beat, moment by moment. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he says. “I do say so.”

Martyn considers him for another moment longer. Watches him with those red eyes that seem to hold nothing but calculations behind them. A measure of how long it would take to overpower someone, how long it would take to bleed them dry of their blood and their time. How many arrows to divert someone from their chosen path. How many swings of the sword before their time can be claimed, like the spoils after a hunt.

Scott hates it. Hates this. Hates what his friends become. Hates what it is – who it is – that makes them do it.

Martyn shrugs and turns away. His walk is casual, deceptively so. He moves quickly, off to kill whoever it is that he’s set his mind on. Possibly the Nosy Neighbours, eyes set on them as a target, like a dog with a bone, relentlessly gnawing on it as though that will force it to produce something more.

Ah, yes. That’s what it is.

Martyn watches him as though his heart no longer beats, as though he is nothing more than a chunk of flesh to be devoured for the benefit, what he might gain from it.

Scott walks in the opposite direction to Martyn and hopes, rather selfishly, that they don’t have to cross paths again.

=== === ===

All paths lead back to the clock. All lead back to the timer ticking down, hanging heavy over their heads and around their necks; a slowly tightening noose.

Perhaps it is fitting, then, with his clock at a negligible amount that they arrive at the Clock Tower. Built at the centre of their little world. Everything revolves around the clock, and the Clockers have made sure they cannot forget that.

The face of it peers down at them, despite Scott not being able to see it from where he stands now. He can feel it. Can feel the ticking of the hands, the shifting and grinding of the gears that allow it to turn. Will allow it to turn long after each of them is dead.

Martyn and Impulse watch each other warily, watch him warily. He watches them back, far less wary than either of them.

He can see how this plays out, can see the end already in the tight grip of a hand upon a sword. Can see the way such a hand refuses to release the last weapon he holds, refuses to give up his one advantage here. Can see how the hand hesitates when moving to unstrap his armour, to unbuckle the plates and let them fall loosely to the ground.

Scott undoes the strap in one unceremonious movement, only grimacing slightly at the clatter as it hits the ground, rolling uselessly around his feet.

Martyn watches him, suspicion misting his eyes. His hand continues to falter, resting over his heart and over his chestplate. One that has still to be removed. Impulse’s armour lays on the ground, too, scattered around in pieces as though he’d simply tossed it aside carelessly in his eagerness to get it off.

Scott tilts his head to the side, almost imperceptibly, watches the way Martyn tracks the tiny movement. The way Impulse does not.

There is a question in his eyes, one that he is not sure Martyn can read anymore. The Martyn of yesterday would have been able to. The Martyn that still cared to scrub his hands free of blood, the one that cared enough to clean beneath his nails, so not even the slightest speck of blood would continue to stain his hands.

The Martyn of today is not the one he has spent time getting to know better. He is not the one that could read a question in the tilt of his eyebrows or the squint of his eyes. He is not the one that would be able to read the question in his eyes right now, swimming just below the surface. Maybe Martyn reaches for that understanding he once had, but the explanation slips away easily, a fish disappearing beneath the surface once more.

So maybe he doesn’t read the implicit permission. The silent question that doesn’t need an answer. Because Martyn might not be able to read his eyes, might not be able to read anything from him at this point, but Scott can still read him. Can still see the plan in his eyes, the way it whirrs in his brain as he smooths out the crinkles and finalises it.

Still, despite Martyn’s plan being finalised, set in stone and ready to be carried out regardless of what anyone says, Scott gives him a small nod that he might not catch. A granting of permission. A better you than anyone else. Martyn might not understand it. May have lost the ability to read him entirely.

He still ends up with a sword through the heart, pulled out slowly, longingly. Blood coats the inside of his mouth, and when he coughs, feels it spilling over, it feels like a parting kiss.

#juno.writes #mer scott (+ fishfucker martyn)#limited life #limited life fic #majorwood #trafficshipping #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #mean gills #trafficblr #traffic series #traffic smp #limited life scott #limited life martyn #limited life smp #trafficfic

65 notes · View notes

waywardmillennial · 1 month

Text

watchergate & where we go from here...

To start at the end, I purchased my annual Watcher TV subscription on April 20th because I wanted to support them when it felt like so many others were not. I'm cancelling another subscription to make this work with my budget, and I'm very happy with this!

Watcher has always made high quality, entertaining content that I love, and I'm happy to support them as they try to grow like they've always wanted to so they can bring on more creators and give us more diverse art.

So, moving forward, I'm going to be posting about Watcher TV when it comes out - spoiler parties with the sexy moots! - and I'll be blocking any and all haters I see. 💜💜💜

(read more bc ofc this got long)

To walk this back and give a little history/context, *ahem* [sotto Byron voice]

April 12, 2024: Watcher announced they had a surprise coming for us in a week's time. The news came in the form of a very spirited ad-read in the Mystery Files s2 finale. And afterwards there were a few blogs posting about it, but I commented to a friend that my dash had been devoid of Watcher posts (oh, how that sweet summer child would grow to long for a day such as that).

There were some corkboard theories, and I broke down the new logo design, but nothing big happened until the following Thursday.

April 18, 2024: I saw the leak for the announcement. It was on reddit and a sock tumblr blog was made sending the link out to people. I didn't post it or share it because it wasn't my news to share. I wanted to wait to see how they were going to explain it.

Maybe I should have said at the time (but it's fine if you don't believe me now I guess) but I was hoping Watcher TV would become like their enhanced Patreon replacement, where the new shows like "Puppet History Karaoke" and "Road Files" would be exclusive, and some other perks like early access. [note: if Apollo is laughing at him right now, I'd kindly request he stuff that red ball somewhere Helios doesn't shine]

I imagined some people would be mad at the streaming news but it didn't prepare me for how bad it would get...

April 19, 2024: Most of us know what happened. The announcement was not well received. Watcher's silence right after wasn't helping, but I don't think many people were willing to give them any grace for their pre-planned trip to the UK and instead demanded answers immediately.

Do I think maybe their announcement could have been timed better? Or maybe given a different tone? Perhaps. But either way what they were trying to communicate was not what people chose to hear, and the response from many viewers was, to choose a very formal phrase here, absolute bonker banana balls insane.

The main anti-streamer "arguments" I saw basically boiled down into these categories:

"high production tv quality content is what they want to make, but we don't want that - we only want them to sit in a blank room and talk to each other with blue and yellow text like the bfu days!!"

"Steven's the one behind all this bc he's rich and greedy and only eats gold"

"they already make enough money off their patreon why are they doing this?? they should have consulted [insert other yt-er here]"

"they've become the capitalist elite that we swore to destroy! so we have to tear them down from their thrones!!"

Even now, feeling better than I have in days, I don't have the energy to say why each of those takes completely misses the point of who they are as a company, as creators, and as human beings. But there are some eloquent posts in my #watchergate tag, or my other post, if you're interested.

April 22, 2024: We got the Watcher update - giving people access to all videos after a month on the new streamer - and that seemed to placate a lot of viewers and those on the fence. But it was also the day I learned about that horrible petition against Steven, and I'd been following all this drama for several days (foregoing some self-care) and so I had a little meltdown...

Even though the new setup is closer to what I'd hoped for like 10 days ago, I hate how we arrived at it. It's shown people that they can bully creators to get them to compromise on their company. In fact, I've seen accounts celebrating this.

Opinions like this have given me trust issues when it comes to the Watcher fandom at large now. As many of my beloved mutuals have said, I'm going to be wary of accounts that follow me and be applying that blocking feature liberally.

I can also only imagine how things like this must have broken some of the trust that the Watcher crew feels for us - fightingfuries really said it best. If they do start distancing themselves on socials and things, I wouldn't really blame them.

I don't have more to say, other than I'm going to support them as much as I can, for as long as they continue to make content. I'm going to send the team a care package. And I hope in time we'll earn back their trust.

Now I'll let Ryan Bergara play me out...

As for the question of why we decided to launch our own platform, when we started Watcher in 2020, we wanted to create shows that we were proud of, that we had ownership over, and that would provide you the caliber of content that we felt you deserved. However, we were finding it harder and harder to stay relevant to advertisers and the constantly changing YouTube landscape. We faced some incredibly challenging decisions. We didn't want to compromise our content to ensure they met advertising requirements. And we definitely did not want to lay people off that have brought Watcher to life behind the scenes. And we didn't want to bring Watcher to a close, which would have happened if we stayed solely on YouTube. - An Update, April 22, 2024

#watchergate #I needed to wrap up some feelings #but closing the tag now #onto posting about happier things!#and I have a little idea/project I want to work on next for any of you who are watcher tv members #vi rants #we now return to my normally scheduled queue

48 notes · View notes

blacksapphhicmaddonna · 7 months

Text

CHAPTER ONE - WHAT I HAVE TO DO.

a/n: hey y'all! so, I tried to post this in response to the anon who asked for a snippet but I saved it as a draft and Tumblr ate it😭 SO THIS IS DEDICATED TO YOU, ANON, WHOEVER YOU ARE!! sorry babes!💔💖💖💖💖

its been a minute since I've written anything fully, this was fun!!! as always, please ignore any grammar/syntax/spelling. I proof read it but you feel me. I'm super excited to be writing something so long and multi chaptered and definitely out of my comfort zone! am I an action girly now? LMFAO but anyway, I'm super open to any feedback and 👀 as always, if you wanna see sum, say sum.

anyway, I love my science gays and I will stan shuriri forever. this is pretty much all angst at this point❤️‍🩹, but I truly hope you enjoy LMFAOOO. lmk how you feel.💗 (and yes, I love a good flashback real bad and ima do it every time if I can. not too much on me LMFAO)

✮ taglist: @mybonafidefeelings@zeezeecave@gr00vyminibus@lppriceisright@darkangelchronicles@princessmel-1995@xenaizogie@nanii2x, and tagging a few folks that enjoyed the sneak peak and a few shuriri/shuri/riri folks who might! @karimwillia @inmyheadimobsessed@mal-urameshi@somethingcleaverandwhitty@imjusthere2readbruv@imagineandwrite there's more but my computer glitching so we gonna get this show on the road! lmk if you'd like to join the taglist or check the link in my tagged post! love y'all, muah

✮ word count: 11,193

✮ panther divider: @firefly-graphics

✮ some of the xhosa translations are from @iinkonde! here's where you can find some of their amazing resources: 1 2 3

Shuri paced the room that seemed to be growing smaller by the millisecond around her, searching for something - anything - inside of the brain most people considered the smartest in the universe to offer the scientist in front of her. She found nothing but the desperation she had been pushing down since the moment they met.

A desperation that mirrored the effects of the herb she had reproduced, also made from the desperation to save something that she felt was slipping through her fingers at the time. Just like the herb had found its way through her body when she first took it, this feeling spread from her throat as she choked when their eyes met as she pushed herself into the dorm room she was once again standing in. Down to her chest, pulling heart strings she didn’t know she had. Plucking them in a rhythm that felt intrinsic, ancestral, almost painful in the way that they made everything feel superimposed. She resisted, but she felt her toes and she felt her finger tips and she felt the curls framing her face dance above her eyes ever so gently. It spread through every atom that comprised the panther and she could barely breathe. She felt everything and she felt nothing, like she was sinking in an ocean of clouds. She could barely look at the woman who was staring back at her with a look of confusion, and an equal desperation that she couldn't explain.

Shuri still had nothing to offer in terms of speech. She paced at a speed that had only just registered as super fucking fast, clearly adding to the concern building in Riri's eyes.

"Shuri-" Riri started, but couldn't even try to finish as her voice had triggered the awaiting and building eruption in Shuri that it always did. Riri, if she did anything to Shuri, she made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling.

"Anything you want, just name it. It's yours. I'll make it happen. I'll build it myself. Just please don't do this. Please." Shuri froze in her place, finding herself begging for something she couldn't explain. She knew she was almost yelling at the other woman, which she would never do but she couldn't find the part of her that could compose herself. She was thankful for the kimoyo beads she had scattered in the room when she entered, enabling a silencing mode and cutting through anything that the government had tapped in Riri's room.

Riri froze too, only moving to fumble with her fingers nervously. She didn't have anything to offer the panther, the queen standing in front of her. She didn't have anything to comfort her friend. The woman she loved more than she could explain. More than almost anything.

"I don't... I don't want anything from you, Shuri... We both knew this day was coming. You had to have thought about it. I thought you were.. I don’t know... It almost felt like-"

"Please, Ri. Please. Just find something and I'll do it. I'll make it myself if I have to. Please just find something else."

"I don't want... I don't understand, Shuri. We only talked about this like twice, I didn't even think you cared that much or even had time to care about it... or me, really. Just... lets just sit down for a second." Riri tried to redirect, trying to give herself time to figure out what was going on. She felt her mind trying to run back through memories and conversations the two had shared in the past year and some change, but it was few and far between that they ever really had time to talk about their lives in depth lately. At first, they talked a lot after they had finally reconnected. They had even spent a few nights together. But lately, Shuri had been working a lot and it seemed like their connection was running dry. Riri had shared her plans a few months ago and hadn't really heard much back from the woman standing in front of her looking like she was fighting a battle she wasn't sure she'd win. Riri had committed herself to this, to showing up and doing what she felt she needed to do to make up for all the ruin she had caused - or at least what she thinks she caused. And now Shuri was trying to offer her a chance out of it. She didn't know what to do or what to think. That's something she felt often with the panther, she figured out. She had zoned out for only a split second before Shuri was grabbing her wrists and looking in her eyes.

"Riri, I'm begging you." Shuri stared into the Iron Heart's eyes, searching for something she knew she was missing. Something she needed the way she needed air, she felt. Riri searched back, trying to decipher something Shuri wasn't ready to let her see.

"Shuri, you know I feel responsible... But, I just.. I don't understand what's going on. What's wrong? Please just talk to me. It's okay." Riri tried to pull them closer, tried to grab the Panther's hand but her grip was too tight around her wrists. Shuri relaxed it, she hadn't intentionally been holding on so tight but she wasn't ready to let go. She's never been ready to let go of who she loves. She saw that same resolute look in Riri's eyes that was always there when she was sure about something. It broke something in Shuri that she knew she couldn't mend on her own. One final try, she told herself.

"I will give you anything under the sun. Please just don't go to them. Don’t go to him. I- I know you're trying to help and change things for the better, and you will. But not like this. Not until it's safe. He will find you, Riri. He will do anything to get to you and to get back at me. You know this and you still choose to go? You don’t have to make this easy for him. We can figure this out a different way. Please. I will give you access to all the technology Wakanda has to offer, just please find something else to focus on, to take place of this. Please."

Riri tried to pull her closer again but the panther moved back, sending a shiver of rejection up Riri's spine.

"I don't want anything from you, Shuri... I just want you. I- I mean I just want you to-"

Shuri felt her body getting hot and somehow freezing at the same time. Riri just wanted her? But she also wanted to go on this suicide mission, which is what it was regardless of what Riri thought of it. She fought back the defensiveness she felt crawling up her throat like it always did when she was hurt. She didn't want to lash out on Riri, she only wanted to protect her. She only wanted her to be safe, alive. She only wanted her. But it was to no avail. She felt the ferocious beast pull itself through her. She scorned herself as her words burned their way through her skin, landing on Riri's.

"You just want whatever you want. You just want to fight whatever moral war you have going on because you're the one who survived! You would give up your life for what? For who? Not for my mother! Not for me!"

Riri hadn't noticed the tears stinging down her cheeks until she saw the ones pouring out of Shuri's. It was something she had never seen before. She had seen Shuri lash out, though. She knew this was just the first wall of defense the panther had when she felt hurt, afraid, abandoned. She couldn't take this personally, though she had to fight back the sting of the words as they came at her. She reached out to try and touch the woman in front of her.

"Shuri, please. Let's just ta-"

"What?! Sit and talk? For what? For you to tell me again why you have to do this, why you have to go and die? Do you care so little for me? For yourself?"

"You know that's not true!"

"Why wouldn't it be true?! Ungayenza njani le nto kum!?"

"Please just listen to me! I don't know what's going on but we can talk about it! I'm right here, I'm right here!"

"But you won't be after this! You don't have to do this! Just let me try, let me show you that there's other things to give you purpose, there’s other ways we can handle this! PLEASE!" Shuri felt herself starting to cave in, her chest becoming a cavern filled with the screams of the orphaned girl inside of her. The girl who needed her family. The girl who couldn't save her brother. The girl who was held back from her mother as she drowned. The woman who loves women, specifically the woman in front of her who was planning to give herself up. She couldn't keep it together. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

"That's not for you to decide, Shuri!" Riri shot back, starting to feel the same layer of armor pull itself over her. She didn't like being yelled at. It triggered something in her that she herself had pushed back as far as it would go. She just needed to get Shuri to listen to her.

"I don't care! You can't do this Riri!"

"Please stop yelling at me!" Riri gave in, covering her ears and turning her back to the panther, who felt herself go still. She hadn't meant to unleash this part of herself. She felt embarrassment mixing with her desperation, afraid she had only made things worse. Who was she to be trying to control the actions of a woman she only met a little over a year ago? Who she was just friends with, and barely that if you based it off what normal friendships looked like. They rarely even spoke for longer than a few minutes every couple days and that wasn’t even true anymore. Shuri scorned herself for the time she hadn’t spent with her, for the time she had been forced to spend trying to fix, defend or save her country. She resented her royal blood now more than ever, wishing she could be nothing more than a girl again. Maybe a student. Maybe just different. Shuri felt herself starting to crack, she felt like she would disintegrate if she stood there any longer. She had done enough damage. She and Wakanda and the Talokan had put Riri through enough and she knew that. She could see why Riri would think this guilt was hers to bare but Shuri knew better, knew more secrets. She knew that her father and his father and so on hadn’t handled things right, and no matter the good T’Challa had tried to do - maybe he didn’t do it right either. So now it laid in her hands, forced once again to stand in the way of something she wasn’t ready for. She felt bad for herself, but she felt worse for Riri. She wishes she had never sent her home with the beads, that they had never touched hands, that they had never even met. Maybe if no one ever knew about Vibranium, no one would be trying to take it. Or maybe if the world had always known, if her ancestors had done things differently, this wouldn’t be Riri’s life. She was part of the lost tribe, as N’Jadaka would call it. Maybe he was right. She didn’t know what to think, but she also knew who she was, herself. She was the most powerful person on the surface world and she was the Queen of the most powerful nation in the world. And she was in love, helplessly, with Riri Williams. She would not let her go again.

"I am sorry for coming here and making you upset." Shuri said blankly, masking any emotions she had just shattered into the room as best as she could to regain any self control she had left.

Riri turned around, tears still swelling in her eyes. She hiccuped and it made Shuri's heart pound.

"I-it's okay. I just don't like b-being yelled at. Can we just sit and talk?"

Shuri nodded, knowing Riri needed a minute. Riri turned to grab a blanket off her bed to wrap herself in as she took a seat on the floor in front of her bed. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before motioning to Shuri to sit next to her. Shuri stared at her for a moment too long, before kneeling down next to her. They sat in silence that wasn't comfortable for the first time in a long time. Neither missed this feeling, the feeling of such uncertainty between them. Sure, it was always there, biting at the backs of their minds and hearts. But they had both worked hard to be comfortable with just having what they had. But now more than ever, neither was sure what was really going on. Shuri mirrored Riri, taking a few deep breaths. Riri felt herself relax, misreading the quiet sigh Shuri let out.

"Are we okay? I don't want us to fight. I just... need you to help me understand why you're so upset. It didn't seem like you even really cared about this. I know you've been busy with what you have going on so I just figured this... I.. wasn't really on your radar anymore."

Shuri stayed silent, fighting that feeling nudging her.

"Please say something." Riri pleaded quietly after a few too many more moments of silence. She couldn't stand it. Neither could Shuri. She needed to escape. Get out of the room, out of America. She needed to run and scream and break something. She needed to kill Namor. That was her only option, once again. She knew it would come. She knew the fate of her country would be in the air again, and part of her knew she shouldn’t do it. Equal parts yes and no. Blood on either hand, regardless of what choice she made. But she also knew that Riri's life was once again in question and there was only one answer Shuri would accept. She would deal with the aftermath the same way she had been. She would accept whatever came. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly, that maybe she would be exiled or worse, but she also knew she couldn't live with herself if Riri wasn't alive tomorrow, and that was enough for her right now. If Riri wouldn't listen, then there was only one choice.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Riri. It won't ever happen again."

Riri was startled at the sincerity in the Panther's voice. She was confused why that was what Shuri felt she had to focus on in the midst of whatever the hell was going on.

"It's okay, I promise. I'm not mad at you for yelling at me. I'm just confused..."

"It's not okay. This, whatever you're planning, whatever he's planning... None of this is okay." Shuri said, pinching between her eyes as she tried to swallow the same beast from just a few minutes ago.

"Shuri... it's not like before. It's not about him. It's not even just about what happened in Wakanda. You know I'm Iron Heart. You knew I was going to start doing these things at some point. Missions that weren’t just flying around Chicago and Boston stopping robberies. And you know that something has to be done. And I can’t let this go on again when we all know it’s my fault.” Riri sighed. “We all know it is. So, please just try to hear me..."

"I have always heard you, Riri."

Riri digested that sentence with a gulp. She replied after a moment.

"Then let me hear you, for once. Tell me why you're here. Tell me why you're reacting like this. Tell me who you are and what you're feeling. Let me in, Shuri." She said, reaching out to grab Shuri's hand again. The Panther's hand was hot, almost burning. She didn't pull away this time.

"I'm here because I lo-.. Because I won't let this happen." Shuri caught herself before she said something she couldn't explain. Riri looked into Shuri's eyes with a pleading, less sure look. Shuri couldn't hold it this time. She couldn't freeze. She couldn't tell Riri. She reminded herself what happens every time she loves someone. She reminded herself of what she was capable of and what needed to be done. Regardless if Riri ever shared her feelings or not, she would swear her life to protecting the woman until the day she met the ancestors and maybe after if she could. She would do whatever it took, every time, no matter what, she resigned to herself. She squeezed Riri's hand.

"What're you gonna do? Lock me in my room, Shuri? I don't get what's going on!" Riri pleaded.

"I would never. You are not a prisoner or someone I want to control. You are free to do as you please, just as I am. Please understand that much."

"What does that mean... Wait, please don't go!" Riri tugged back at Shuri's hand again as the Panther got up to leave. Shuri looked down at their hands touching, taking in every second that their skin touched. She remembered what it felt like to reconnect after a long time apart. She wishes she could live in it like she had before. She brought their foreheads together and closed her eyes.

"I will protect you with every part of me. The cost will never be too much."

"Shuri, please don't do what I think you're about to do..." Riri pulled Shuri's hands into hers and brought them to the sides of their faces. They were so close they could feel each other's breath on their lips. Riri prayed in her head that Shuri would listen to her, knowing the strength and power the woman in front of her wielded. Shuri choked out a pained laugh before kissing Riri's forehead and pulling away, taking in the scent of Ghanian Shea Butter and the sweet scent Riri always had.

"Andizukuphulukana nawe. Impilo yami ngeke ibe lutho ngaphandle kwakho, Riri Williams."

Before Riri could open her eyes, the Black Panther was gone, the sound of a closing door shaking Riri to her core. She felt like she was in shock, having nothing to do but curl into a ball and pull the blanket around her body, covering her face as she let the rest of the tears fall silently. She laid there for what felt like an eternity until she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

"Miss Williams?" Riri jumped up, running around her room tracking down the voice. She picked up a purple and black kimoyo bead and held it up, suddenly seeing several others connect like magnets from across the other corners of the room.

"Griot?!" Riri both yelled and whispered.

"Hello, Miss Williams. Are you feeling alright?" Griot asked as the AI began taking a scan of her body to check her vitals.

"I've been better... what's going on? Why are you here? Not that it's not nice to... well you get what I mean!"

"It seems you have suffered a panic attack of sorts. Please get some water and take a seat before I proceed."

Riri rolled her eyes with a tired huff, giving in because she knew Griot wouldn't budge until she obliged. She grabbed a half empty bottle of water from her desk and sat back down near her bed, pulling the blanket up around her. She suddenly felt the absence of Shuri in her space and fought back the tears threatening to make way through her as she pulled the bracelet on, watching it activate. She had felt this way before, but it was different now.

"Feeling better, Miss Williams?"

"Just Riri is fine, and I guess. Can you explain what's going on now, please Griot?"

"Yes, Miss Riri." Griot replied as a hologram of Stark Tech floated in front of the scientist. She felt even more confused.

"Why are you showing me Stark Tech?"

"The panther has created and assigned your own AI for you, it's name is VIV. It is nearly identical to the JARVIS, or Vision, that Tony Stark had. It has been being developed for over a year, and seems to have just finished."

"What the fu-"

"The Panther also has an updated version of your vibranium Iron Heart suit on it's way to your lab location, or garage currently. She has given you access to me as well, with some restrictions. She has instructed me to inform you of this when the AI download is complete."

Riri sat in even more shock than she was in before. She was even more confused about Shuri's intentions now. More confused about her feelings, than anything. She replayed the words the panther had said to her before she left, she knew some Xhosa but it wasn’t great.

"Can you translate what Shuri said to me in Xhosa before she left, Griot?" Riri asked, hoping for some clarity. Griot calculated for a moment, before answering.

"It would seem I am not permitted to complete that task at this time, Miss Riri."

Riri felt a pang of frustration rise in her, as she let out a laugh.

"Of course not... Can you tell me where the panther is right now?"

Griot took a moment again before answering.

"The Queen was on her way back towards Wakanda as of her last status, but it would seem she has powered off her location devices. Would you like me to contact her for you?"

Riri sat for a moment, considering her options and her own feelings.

"No, that's alright Griot. We're going to my lab. Can you help me boot up VIV when we get there? We're going on a trip."

"As you wish, Miss Riri."

Riri stood up, grabbing a hoodie and sliding on some J's. Before she walked out the door, she slid on the kimoyo beads and asked a final question.

"Oh, one last thing Griot. Can you turn on privacy mode? I would like my location hidden from everyone, including the Panther. Can you do that?"

"It seems I can, but I would not advise that action Miss Riri. There are safety protocols in place that the Panther can activate for you remotely."

"That's fine, just turn it on. I have my own safety protocols."

"As you wish, Miss Riri."

"Thank you, Griot."

Riri made her way to her garage in no time, paying no mind to the world around her or the messages on her phone from MJ about their project. When she got there, she did decide to shoot her a quick text explaining that she was heading home to Chicago for a family emergency, that MJ could find her portion already done on a small drive in her room and that she had permission to break in, and that she would make it up to her later. MJ did reply, but Riri didn’t have time for that. She got to work, with the help of Griot, or the portion of him that she was allowed to operate, and booted up her own AI and implemented it into her nano suit. The one from wakanda was on its way but wouldn’t be there in time. Thankfully, she didn’t have to meet with Namor for another day and a half. She needed to think quickly but after working everything out with her suit, she was unsure where to go from there.

“Griot, can I use both you and VIV?”

“Yes, but you likely will not need me once the AI is turned on. I will be there when you need me, though Miss Riri.”

“Thank you Griot.” Riri smiled to herself, always fond of Griot and their robot voice. It made her think about the time she spent in the lab with Shuri, where they would borderline argue and Riri would laugh at them. This brought back that pang in her stomach and chest. She got to work on turning on and engaging with the AI so that it could mold to her needs, voice and patterns. After about an hour, she felt ready to head off. Except she had no idea how to get to Wakanda, let alone how to get in. She ruffled through her bookbag to find the information Namor had sent for her. A small teal envelope with her name on it, looking like it was written with a quill and ink. She shuddered at the thought of how old this man was and how intentional he had been to get this note to her. She opened it and read over it again, hoping to find more information than last time. Then, an idea came to mind.

“Hey VIV, and Griot, not that I don’t think you can handle it by yourself VIV. But uh, can you both scan this for me? I don’t have my Black light. Look for anything and everything. Cross reference what you find, if anything. Please.”

“Yes IronHeart.” “Yes, Miss Riri.” They both answered in tandem. While they got to work, Riri sat down finally to think about what she could do. She couldn’t exactly call up the avengers to help her figure this out. She had to be lowkey, she had to be smart, and she needed it to work. She had only been to Wakanda once, and wasn’t really in the know about how to travel there let alone get through the border forcefield. As she went over all she did know, trying to remember any details that would help, the AI duo alerted her.

Griot speaking first, since VIV seemed to sense a deeper trust from the IronHeart’s patterns.

“There are markings on the back that would indicate a geolocation where Namor would like you to meet.”

“So, coordinates? I can work with that.” Riri said out loud, still trying to figure out exactly how she could work with that. Until she looked over at her father’s red car, in pristine condition thanks to Shuri. And it dawned on her.

“Griot, do you have contact information for anybody besides Shuri?”

“I have contact information for Queen Shuri, and Okoye, former general of the Dora Milage.”

“Perfect. Please contact her now.”

“Yes, Miss Riri.”

“Wait, before you do, please transfer this contact information over to VIV. I’m not sure if Shuri knows that I have VIV yet, but in case she does, I don’t doubt that she would shut you down.” Riri explains to her favorite robot as if they needed it. Griot complied and sent a call out to Okoye.

Riri waited, holding her breath. She wasn’t sure is Okoye would answer, or even be willing to help. But this is what she had to work with.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Okoye answered.

“Small girl. Is everything alright?” Okoye answered seeming cheerful enough to hear from the girl but not without worry for the cause. Riri took a deep breath and explained the situation, truthfully, to the best of her ability. Somehow, as a surprise to both of them, Okoye was on her way in a matter of minutes as a Midnight Angel, with a jet that Shuri had let her keep. They both knew Shuri would be upset, but somehow it didn’t matter enough to let her get to Namor. They both knew what could happen, and what Shuri would likely do.

No time was wasted when Okoye arrived, Riri running in the open hatch as fast as she could. Okoye pulled off without a trace, both of them hoping they hadn’t alerted any American law enforcement this time.

Okoye charted course for Wakanda and they both sat in near silence for most of the ride, only sharing a few words when Riri boarded, Riri showing Okoye the letter before she began piloting. They would make it in time. Riri sat near the back, not feeling like she belonged at the mantle of the machine. She had always liked these, having begged Shuri to teach her how to fly one before they set off for war. Riri sunk into her feelings that she had been trying to keep at bay since finding out about the AI. Before Shuri came, she honestly really wasn’t sure what she was going to do or how she was going to do it. But it seemed like the timing would suggest that she was supposed to, whether she really wanted to believe that or not. She didn’t want to believe that she was this horrible monster who brought death and destruction with her everywhere she went, but sometimes she really did. She tried to fight those thoughts back and began to feel the weight of her body, sinking into the seat. Sinking was a familiar feeling to her. She tried to remember how to swim in her own thoughts. She remembered how Shuri would talk her through her episodes. How she would call right away when she sensed anything off, even if Riri wasn’t wearing her beads. She remembered how it felt to think everything would be okay, and how often that was proved to be untrue.

It was too easy to remember. Too easy to feel like it was just yesterday. Riri couldn't keep her mind from wandering back in time while the Wakandan jet made its way through the air. Trying to focus on anything else, trying to pay attention to the Dora silently flying or guarding the exit, trying to watch the sky around her. Anything. She couldn't bite down hard enough on the inside of her cheek, leaving a sore mark wasn't enough to keep her mind from its current occupation.

"What are you doing here?!" The shorter of the two screamed, almost screeched as she ran into the panther's arms.

"I had some time to myself finally. Where else would I go?" Shuri chuckled as she picked the scientist up.

"You could literally go anywhere in the world and probably... out of the world? At this point with Wakandan tech." Riri explained, seriously, as she hung onto the slim but toned body holding her off the ground with ease, not realizing she was holding on as tight as she was. Not realizing there was nowhere else Shuri would have gone. Nowhere.

"You're so... anyway, what should we do?"

"How long do we have?" Riri asked as she pulled back, not even trying to contain her wide grin that was plastered across her face. Shuri recorded it to memory, as she always did with the smaller woman's features.

"96 hours. Well, 96-ish, less now that we've been standing here debating where I could've gone." Shuri jokes as she lets go, making sure Riri found her footing.

"Shut up! Four days?! We have so much to do!" Riri definitely screeched this time, pretending to slap Shuri's arm. Fighting the urge to grab it and pull her in, Shuri picks up Riri's book bag from where she dropped it and places it in her desk chair as she walks to the bed and pulls her own bag out from under the bed.

"Exactly how long have you been here? You seem comfortable." Riri jokes as she grabs two waters from her mini fridge and hops up on her bed.

"I am." Shuri chuckles at the sight of the shorter woman having to jump to get on the bed. "And since your first class."

"Are you serious?! Why didn't you say anything dickhead?!"

"Ouch!" Shuri feigns pain as she catches the pillow Riri throws at her head and plops on the bed next to her. "I had a few things to handle, and needed to secure the dorm building. I didn't want to disrupt your day, I know midterms are coming up no?"

"Yeah, they are but you could've let a bitch know! I would've cleaned!" Riri states, noticing that she sounds much like her mother.

"I like your mess." Shuri smiles.

"Shut up. How did you secure the whole dorm building?"

"Well, I hope you don't mind. I have beads in every corner of the building. And a few around campus as well. Including in here. Is that alright with you?"

"Sheesh. Do I have a choice?" Riri jokes, but Shuri nervously answers.

"Yes of course! If it's not comfortable for you, I can sleep at a hotel. I should've asked, I'm sorry about that. Next time I'll-"

"There's a next time too?"

"Well, if you'd li-"

"Are you crazy?! Of course! And yeah yeah, that's all fine with me. I get it. Don't start worrying about it or nun. I was just curious."

Shuri's smile returns and she relaxes back into the bed. It was oddly comfortable, being that the last time she was here was before the war. Sure, they'd been talking for months over facetimes and calls. And texts. And letters.. oddly, but not to them. They were both truly as desperate as they felt, but excused it since it seemed mutual - opting to call it a mutual interest in friendship, as opposed to what it really was in the bigger picture. And sure, they had seen each other one other time, but it was so brief that it shouldn't really count - although it did, to both of them.

Shuri had arrived at an American event in Boston, forced to show face by the elders after the uproar surrounding her mother and everything. She felt it was too soon and didn't make sense to attend a tech gala when none of it was even touching Wakandan tech. But regardless, she put on her best suit and went, disregarding the elder's request for her to wear traditional royal attire. She sat there, wishing she hadn't come, while big investors droned on. The only part that peaked her interest was listening to the stories of young inventors. They reminded her of herself, so excited and in a hurry. They reminded her of someone else too. Someone she had been longing to see since she left Wakanda only a few months ago at the time.

Shuri muddled around the thought of calling Riri, or just showing up at her dorm. She knew she had responsibilities to attend to the next afternoon after she returned home, and it really hadn't been that long. Maybe Riri wasn't ready to see her yet? Or maybe she never would be. Or maybe Shuri had really made their connection up in her own mind. Or maybe she didn't? And maybe she should just call her, or maybe send her a quick text to keep it more casual? Keep what, casual exactly? She wasn't sure. She paced around her own mind anxiously the entire night, not realizing it was her turn to speak until the Doras were next to her asking if she was alright. She collected herself and headed to the stage, performing a speech much like her brother had about the importance of innovation, supporting the youth - especially the Black and Brown youth, etc. She meant what she said but she hardly felt as connected or present with it as she was when she wrote it. Still circling her mind was her favorite innovator, the scientist who made everything make sense to her. Pining so badly, by the end of her speech she had resolved to call Riri. Faking her smiles through the eruption of clapping and handshakes as she left the stage, she made her way back to her seat while the closing speech began - only to lose her resolve when Ayo bent down to whisper a reminder of their exit plan and their intended arrival time back in Wakanda.

She had known it was a foolish thought. Who even knew what the small scientist would be doing at this time? She could be working, studying, partying. God, Shuri hoped not but recoiled at her own thoughts. She wasn't heteronormative and she wasn't the toxic type. She just also felt jealous of anybody and anything that got to be around Riri when she wasn't. Which was most times. Essentially all the time. Really, she reasoned with herself, she had only been around Riri for a few days and it had been against her will anyway. Maybe she really was making all of this up in her head.

The Queen of Wakanda continued her mental pace as she made her exit, later than most guests and certainly not from the front entrance. She walked through the beautiful building with the Doras who were talking amongst themselves about logistics, seemingly all having caught onto another one of Shuri's "moods". Shuri paid them no mind, as they expected, while she began brooding. What was the point of coming to America, aside from like... the actual point, politically - if not to see her scientist? She caught herself scoffing at "her scientist", making fun of herself in her head as they headed outside and around the back when the Doras suddenly stood alert around her. Shuri looked around her and back at her beads quickly, doing a quick scan of their surroundings, only to hear a small, out of breath "Hey" from her left.

"Williams?"

"Yeah, yeah.. haha. Hoo. Crazy catching you here." Riri joked awkwardly as she tried to catch her breath from clearing having run.

"Yes, well I was-"

"Giving a speech. I saw on tv. Just happened to be in the neighborhood myself so I figured I'd uh, say hi." Riri cut the Panther off as she caught her bearings and finally made eye contact. Shuri made contact back, silently signaling for the Dora to drop their guard. Ayo looked between them but of course followed command. Shuri stepped between them and closer to the scientist, who was now twiddling her fingers and looking anywhere but at Shuri. Just like she did in Wakanda. Just like Shuri had replayed in her head a billion times over. While Shuri took the absence of eye contact as a chance to damn near gawk at the smaller woman, Riri was doing her own mental laps.

She also questioned her intentions and if she had been making this all up. She also questioned how crazy she must look, showing up here like this. She couldn't stop herself, leaving MJ, Peter and Ned in her OWN room after they had been flipping through channels and Riri caught a glimpse. That was all it took, one, maybe two seconds and she was out the door. And granted, she kind of was in the neighborhood. If you consider being four miles away in the neighborhood. She had considered grabbing her car from the garage but figured it would take too long, so she jumped in her nano suit her and Peter had been working on (that definitely still needed some work), and flew over. Of course she couldn't land in front of everyone, so she landed in a park a few blocks away and took off on foot. None of which she will EVER tell anybody, although she could barely remember her excuse to the three friends she left in her dorm as she forced herself to look back up and meet Shuri's eyes.

"In the neighborhood?"

"You could say that." Riri joked awkwardly again.

This made Shuri laugh. Riri had that effect on her, she had learned during their late night lab sessions. Even in the midst of the grimmest of days and a literal war, Riri had Shuri laughing so hard she cried a few times. They both seemed to be thinking back while they laughed together and smiled at each other shyly until Ayo cleared her throat.

"We must get going, Kumkanikazi." Both women seemed to jump a bit, having been pulled out of their staring contest. Riri shuddered at hearing Shuri be called that, she recognized it from when Okoye would speak about Queen Ramonda. She had done her best to pick up on as much of the language as she could when she was there, for some reason unknown to her - she just figured it would come in handy. But now, hearing it and knowing it meant Queen, shook her to her core. She remembered why she hadn't reached out, the guilt that sat in her bones about it. She nearly turned on her heels until she heard Shuri speak.

"One moment please."

"My Queen, we really must-" Ayo begun speaking in Xhosa but was cut off by the Panther Queen.

"Please. One moment." Shuri said, a command but almost begging, not turning to face the general one step to the side of her. She pulled at the necklace around her neck and Ayo nodded silently.

"I will ready the jet." Ayo answered and turned around, her and the two other Dora briskly walking to the jet that was just now coming into Riri's focus. She assumed it was using the new camouflage tech she had heard mentioned before she left Wakanda.

"Those things get cooler every time."

"Yeah, I suppose they do." Shuri laughed half heartedly. They both tried to speak but cut each other off.

"So-"

"I do-"

"You first." They both sheepishly smiled as they spoke in unison. but Riri insisted. "Go ahead, please."

Shuri would've resisted if she wasn't so desperate and struggling against showing it.

"How have you been? I've mis- I've been wondering. We haven't spoken since you left." Shuri caught herself, suddenly feeling like twiddling her fingers and looking at her shoes too but she resisted that too. She was good at resisting.

"Oh.. well yeah. I've been. You know, school, work. Just been trying to get through the semester. I wanted to re- well I wondered how you've been too."

"I've been, too." Shuri shrugged with a smile. She wanted to know more, everything. To devour the stories Riri could tell her, even the most mundane. She wanted to know what pencils she used to write equations and what she thought of the food in her cafeteria. Riri just smiled, feeling the weight again. She knew Shuri hadn't been good, and she knew she hadn't either.

"Can I ask you-" They both spoke in unison again.

"You first." Riri insisted again, before Shuri could. Shuri didn't like it but she also didn't have much time to waste.

"Why didn't you reach out?" She asked, leaving Riri out of breath all over again. After a second that seemed like a million, Riri answered.

"I didn't know how." She said truthfully.

"I left you beads. Maybe I should've left a note too. I'm sorry, I figured you'd-"

"No, no. Not like that. I figured that out, it was actually pretty easy." Riri smiled, thinking about how much fun it was to try to get the beads to work. Fun until it wasn't. Fun until she heard Shuri's voice message and left it for months.

"Then you didn't want to?"

"No, I did. I just didn't know... how. I didn't know what to say, or how to say it. But trust me, I wanted to. I really wanted to." Riri said earnestly and more quiet than she intended. Shuri believed her and took her answer, even if she didn't like it. Again resisting herself. Resisting Riri.

"I understand. Thank you for letting me know. Well..." She looked back at the Jet and sighed. They made eye contact before Shuri decided it would be best to count her losses in her own country, turning to leave.

"Wait, I still have a question!" Riri almost shouted. "If that's okay... of course." She said more quiet. Shuri turned around eager to hear. Hoping. Resisting. But hoping. She nodded her head.

"Well..." Riri twisted her fingers around in her hands. She still didn't know what to say or how to say it. But she didn't have much time to waste.

"Well?" Shuri asked, trying not to sound pushy but anxious to know.

"Is it too late?" Riri asked, looking back up at the woman in front of her. The face she had committed to memory, but a bit different. More mature. Somehow even more beautiful. Shuri said nothing.

"...To reach out... To talk?" Riri finally drove it home, sending a silent prayer to whoever would answer that she wouldn't further embarrass herself.

Startling the both of them, Shuri's beads lit up and Ayo's face appeared.

"My apologies my Queen, but if we do not leave in the next three minutes, you may be late to your engagements tomorrow."

"Yes, thank you. I'm coming." Shuri said back, eyes still on Riri.

Riri felt defeated as she watched the panther tuck her beads back up her sleeve. It probably was too late. And who knows. Maybe it was the right thing to do to not stay in contact. Maybe that's what was best for Wakanda or Shuri. She remembered her mother always telling her that sometimes "doing the right thing feels like shit". In this case, she thought, it felt worse than shitty.

That was until Shuri grabbed her hand. Softly, almost too soft in comparison to what you'd expect from a super powered panther. It was so soft yet sent a shiver through Riri, like electricity was coursing through her. Like her heart was beating for the first time. The eye contact was somehow not as awkward as it was a second ago when they were standing a few feet apart. It was like they were all alone.

"Use the beads. If they need to charge, just set them in the sun but they shouldn't."

"Oh- Okay. I will. I will." Riri said twice, almost like she was confirming with herself first and the Shuri.

"Good." Shuri smiled. She took a step closer before she heard another beep on her own beads. Before the General could speak, Shuri was already responding.

"I heard you. I'm coming."

She looked at Riri again and sighed, and suddenly Riri saw just how exhausted the Panther really was. And maybe something else too. Shuri stepped back again, not wanting to let go of Riri's hand.

"It'll never be too late. I'll see you soon?" Shuri said, finally letting go and letting the physical distance regrow between them, hoping that the emotional distance wouldn't grow again too.

Riri watched as the panther walked back to the jet and boarded, looking back only once, only long enough to catch Riri's small wave but not return it. The younger scientist stood there feeling disassociated, unsure of what to do next. Really, she knew she had to go back to her dorm and go back to living her real life just like she had after she left Wakanda. Although, as dreary as that still seemed to her, this time felt different. Like there was something to look forward to, if she had the balls to actually use the beads like Shuri had said. She mulled over whether or not it was an instruction or a question from the Panther as she chose not to watch the jet fly off behind her. She heard the media start to buzz again when they heard the jet, upset that they had missed the person they were waiting for. Yet, Riri stood there and stared at the ground where Shuri was just standing. She still felt that pathetic feeling, and worried that she hadn't had a chance to explain how she found Shuri or even knew she would be there. She felt the weight of grief again, after seeing how tired Shuri looked when you really looked at her. And she felt guilty, for feeling excited. For feeling the butterflies she always pretended she didn't feel. She wondered, briefly, how Shuri was feeling right now but per usual, tried not to wonder too much as to not become delusional. She knew better than anybody that assuming to know how someone else thinks is the worst mistake you can make.

Shuri, back in the jet that was flying faster than she would like, was afflicted by similar thoughts. She wondered how Riri had found her and wondered if she really was as lucky as that just felt. She wondered why the girl even came. She wondered if she thinks about her too. She wondered if Riri would use the beads. She sat awake, replaying every moment of their time together since their first encounter over and over until they arrived in Wakanda, despite the Doras concerns for her not getting rest. Shuri would rest when things were well enough for her to rest, she told herself, but even she was starting to notice the cracks. She knew she could only stay awake for so many days until her body would shut down. She had secretly tried some of the elixirs and teas that both Nakia and Aneka had sent her, and she had read what Okoye sent her after hearing everything. She had slept every now and then, but it was never restful. It was never without torment from some figment of her mind taking shape of someone she wasn't ready to face - whether that be Namor, N'jdaka, or her mother. She always prayed for T'Challa to appear, who she wasn't sure if she was ready to see but longed for the comfort of his voice or face, but each time her body fell asleep, her mind fell into a well pit of despair.

That is, until later that night. Shuri had been through her daily responsibilities after making it back to Wakanda. Once her meetings were over, she made her way to the lab. She did her best to avoid checking the status of Riri's beads, trying to keep her mind busy as she usually did. It was harder this time, knowing that she'd actually spoken to the girl. After bopping around a bit, her body started to feel the weight of the past few days. She hadn't been physically training as much as she should've the past few weeks, because she knew it would knock her out but she was starting to feel stiff. She finally let up and sat down at one of her desks in a back room of the lab after Griot had let her know her vitals. She didn't usually sit in this room, so she hadn't been aware of what was placed in there. As she lazily sifted through the papers on the desk to try to keep her mind occupied, she saw blueprints for Riri's Iron Heart suit. The same feeling of nervousness and excitement rose in her as she more hurriedly looked over them. Despite all the work they did together, she never really got to see too much of Riri's initial process from scratch. She ran her slender fingers over Riri's pencil marks, reading over all her notes to herself.

With a yawn, Shuri sat back and relished in the fact that Riri actually existed. Sometimes, when Shuri was really out of it, she couldn't believe that everything really happened. She was sometimes convinced she would wake up and her mother would still be here, or that Riri was just a figment of her desperate imagination. Sure, having her mother back would be... well, everything. But it scared Shuri to think Riri might not have been real, that she didn't really happen. She felt selfish for this, knowing that Riri's life would probably be better without the trauma she endured in Wakanda. But nevertheless, Shuri held on tight to the memories she had of the woman, hoping that they would be enough for her.

She thought about how it felt to hold Riri's hand, to touch her skin again. It was just as soft and delicate as it had been when they parted ways a few months ago. Her face looked the same, maybe more mature in some ways. She looked tired too, underneath the face she put on for other people. They had gotten past that with each other during their long nights alone working together in the lab.

She thought about what it would feel like to fall asleep in Riri's bed. The mattress probably wasn't super comfortable but she remembers all the colorful pillows she has, messily strewn across the surface. The different colored blankets would probably fit them both well, even with the little space a twin bed supplies. They would have to be close, touching. Shuri imagined breathing in sync, feeling Riri's ribcage rise and fall in her arms while they were pressed against each other. She thought about how Riri smells. She's been trying to replicate it for months. She thought about breathing her in, laying her face in the crook of her neck and sleeping. Not thinking. Sleeping. Not even having to dream. She thought about waking up next to her, seeing her sleeping still until Shuri shifted too much by accident. Riri waking up and no doubt saying something funny. Or soft. Or just saying hello. How her eyes would look. She thought about not being afraid to make it real, that in her thoughts she didn't have to pretend that these touches were by accident or out of necessity. That they could spend an eternity, wrapped in colorful blankets, sleeping and touching skin to skin. That maybe Riri would feel the same, and they would laugh about how long it took to figure it out. That they would laugh until they couldn't, and talk until they couldn't, and then they would kiss. And everything would melt away, and neither would know where their skin would begin or end. And they would kiss until they couldn't. And they'd sleep.

She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep at the desk until she heard Griot's voice.

"Sorry to startle you, Panther. But, Miss Williams is trying to contact you. How would you like me to proceed?"

Shuri was shook, unsure of what she looked like or even what time it was. She felt nervous. She felt groggy, not even sure if this was real either. Nevertheless, she answered.

"Patch me through, please."

She waited a moment with bated breath, hoping this wasn't a dream or some fluke. Until she heard a familiar voice.

"Hello?" Riri asked, sounding nervous herself. Shuri wondered what time it was there, too.

"Hey." She said, in a more relaxed tone. Even if this wasn't real, it was still the best dream she'd had in months. Maybe ever.

And they talked, for a long time. Eventually working through any awkwardness. Riri never explained how she made it to the Panther, and the Panther never asked. She did explain, however, why it took so long for her to call. Shuri just listened and let herself laugh, like she'd been dreaming about. Finally feeling free for a little bit, even if it was just for a little bit.

On the other side of things, once Riri had cleared everyone out of her room when she got back and promising to explain to MJ later, she had sat down and thought about what to do. That turned into pacing and talking outloud. She had been avoiding the beads like the plague for months, unsure of what to do. Unsure of what choice would cause the least harm, since she already felt guilty for what she had caused. She found herself awake all night feeling anxious. She left for class that morning, deciding that she would get through her day and take a nap. She would figure it out after that. What she didn't tell Shuri, is how hard its been to sleep since she left Wakanda, or really even how hard it was while she was there. But when she tried to take a nap, she realized that all she dreamed about this time was Shuri and how soft her hand was when they had touched and how peaceful it felt to talk to her, even if only for a few moments and only a few words. She decided when she woke up that even if they ended up never talking again, she would keep her promise and use the beads.

And that's what she did. And that's what they kept doing, for weeks and months. They talked, they listened, they laughed, and on rare occasion, fell asleep. Both free from nightmares, even if just for a little while. Until Shuri finally arrived.

And finally, they had some time to really figure things out. Shuri promised she wasn't missing anything important by being there, and that she had allotted enough time. Riri was still unsure about it but couldn't resist the opportunity to finally see the woman she had been pining over for months - as a friend, of course.

As Riri remembered back fondly, she had forgotten what was ahead of her until she was jolted by turbulence that was usually well controlled by the Wakandan tech in the fighter jet. She couldn't process how she could possibly be on her way to confront the man that almost killed her and did actually kill the Queen of Wakanda. She couldn't fathom that she was racing there, against her love, her best friend, to make sure she didn't kill him first. Suddenly her clothes all felt too tight, and her suit felt heavy despite being nano. Suddenly the air felt hot and her lungs felt empty and she felt dizzy. She had felt all of this before, a panic attack. Riri Williams was no stranger to a panic attack. Not before Wakanda, and definitely not after. Though, for the past few months, she had always had Shuri to help ground her. Now, she was floating in the air, literally and figuratively. Everything was moving so fast. She felt herself spiraling and cursing herself in the process, unable to stop it but ashamed nonetheless. She had worked hard, since she was younger, to have a control over her emotions and thoughts. She needed to, especially if she was going to take this super hero shit serious. Especially if she was going to be there for her mom and sister after her dad passed. Especially if she was going to make it. But she felt that control slowly ripping itself to shreds, doing a number on all the mental blocks she had in place. She couldn't lose Shuri. She couldn't be the cause of another war in Wakanda. She couldn't live with the guilt. She couldn't let Shuri get hurt, or worse, for her again. Even if it meant confronting a man much more powerful than her. Even if it meant losing. Even if it meant drowning all over again.

Suddenly, she felt a cool hand grace the side of her cheek. She felt her suit dematerialize around her until it was just a bracelet again. She felt Okoye kneel down in front of her, eyes kinder than they usually were. She felt her pull her in close and squeeze. The pressure of the embrace bringing Riri back into her body. They stayed like that until Riri could breathe again.

She went to apologize as Okoye pulled back silently, just as she had appeared, but she was cut off.

"Aht aht. There is no need." Okoye softly but firmly let her know, sitting down next to her. They had never been this close before. Riri looked over to see the jet flying itself. The first time she saw that happen she was crazy nervous, but she's grown to trust both Wakandan tech and Okoye. After a few moments of silence, Okoye spoke again.

"I know what she means to you, you know."

Riri looked at her finally, noticing how somber her eyes really looked. She had seen those eyes before, but not like this. Okoye continued, looking back out the windows.

"I was T'Challa's right hand. I saw it all, from the beginning to the end. I saw him be the panther, I saw him be the king. I saw him be Shuri's brother." Riri felt a pang in her at the use of Shuri's name. She listened.

"And I saw him fall in love. I saw him devote himself to Nakia, and I saw her unravel at the loss of him - until she left. I saw it all, as much as I could. And I often wondered why I didn't feel the way they seemed to feel when my husband betrayed me and Wakanda. But their love... it was pure. It was something out of this world, it was something built into them." Okoye sighed, feeling grief in many directions. Riri found herself fighting back tears again until Okoye looked at her with different eyes, almost loving eyes this time.

"I have seen that kind of love before and that is how I know you have it. Both of you. And that is how I know we will figure this out." Okoye looked at her and squeezed her hand again, affirming what she said. They both heard the AI tell them they were approaching in the next 5 minutes. Through her tears that were now shamelessly falling down her face, Riri gulped out a question, in true Riri fashion.

"Do you think you will ever love like that?"

"I already do." Okoye said, getting up and adjusting herself to get back to the front of the plane to chart their secret entrance into Wakanda. Riri looked confused.

"Ngudade wethu." Okoye answered again, before sitting down and being who she needed to be. Riri knew what she said, and knew that she was right. About all of it.

As they prepared themselves, Riri suited up and made her way to the front of the plane.

"Where did he say to meet?" The midnight angel asked Riri. She sent the coordinates to the jet and looked at them wistfully. She hadn't really thought about where she might actually be going to "talk" to him when she was rushing to get herself to Wakanda. She jumped when Okoye gasped.

"What?! What is it?!" Worry filled her from head to toe again, hoping it had nothing to do with Shuri.

"That bastard... We are going to have to find a way to break into the palace. He wants to meet in the throne room."

Riri was speechless, knowing that this was a tactic to try to make her feel weak. She also couldn't deny that it was working. She felt her heart rate increase at the thought of being back in there. Of seeing the place where she almost died. Of... all of it. She had visited many times in her dreams, all against her will. And now she would face him there, against her will. She knew he was doing this to weaken her resolve, much like her and Shuri did with the dehydrating jet. She knew his intent all along, but this certainly solidified it.

Riri tried to make peace with dying in Wakanda. Once again, her mom wouldn't know where she was or how any of this happened. She wondered what lie they would tell her. She wondered if she would fight or just give herself to him. She wondered what Shuri would do, knowing this wouldn't end well no matter what she did. But she held her mind together as best as she could. She knew she had to meet him before she did. She knew she had to do what she could to prevent a second war. Okoye knew too, looking at her and then pulling up her own beads to try and locate Shuri.

"The Panther's location services are currently offline." The Ai spoke to them.

"Let us pray she is behind us and not ahead of us."

"Will she know where to find us?"

"We are about to break into the most secure place on the planet earth. I'm sure everyone will know where to find us in a matter of moments." Okoye answered and they shared a look.

"I hope you know, I will fight until the end with you. I have stood with the Wakandan throne my whole life. I have stood with Shuri and those that came before her. I have stood for the safety of my people as best as possible, but I have made my own mistakes before. I will stand with you, now, Riri. No matter the outcome."

Riri felt the pull of her tear ducts again but different this time. Okoye reminded her of her own sister, and of her own mistakes. She reached out a hand and found Okoye's. They held hands until it was time to land.

Once they had maneuvered their way into the country using Okoye's knowledge as former general and her new disguising tech, which Riri made a note to recreate if she made it out of this, Riri followed Okoye into the dense jungle around them.

"The best chance we have is to stay low until we can't anymore, and then charge in. The Doras won't see it coming but they will react, with their full might as they've been trained to do. Even to me. Our goal is not to harm any Wakandans, but we have to get to the throne room before he does. I will do my best to reason with Ayo and Aneka but they will resist a meeting with him there. Once we spot him, we must draw him away from the palace. Even if it means drawing him to the sea. Remember that he is most powerful near water."

Riri nods as she listens. Okoye wishes there were another way.

"Remember that if we see Shuri, we may already be too late. We must keep them separate. I do not know if she will choose peace a second time. Not when it concerns you."

"I don't want her to do this, I hope you know. You were right. You were right about it all. I love her. But I don't want her to risk everything for me. You all already have and I can't live with that. I can't live with any of this. I don't want to die but... But I can't let everyone else die for me either." Riri spits out, hoping she's being believed. She means it. Okoye looks at her and hears Nakia's voice in her head. "I just know his spirit. It is simple in that way for me."

"Ndiyawazi umoya wakho. I believe you. And I will fight to make sure no one has to die today, unfortunately even him if it means peace."

"Thank you."

"Thank you, small girl."

"For what?" Riri asked, genuinely surprised since most of the mayhem the past few months has been a result of her actions - intentional or not.

"For giving her something to hold onto again. Something to believe in." Okoye answered truthfully. Riri didn't know what to say but she took in what the older woman said, against trusting her. After a few moments of silence, it was time.

"Stand behind me and do not fly until I tell you. If you enter the air space anywhere near the palace, you will be shot down before you can count to one. Do you understand?" Riri nodded.

She did understand. Now, more clearly than ever.

🖤

#black sapphic #riri williams #Shuri Udaku #iron heart #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #black wlw #marvel #SHURIRI #SCIENCE GAYS #SORRY FOR THE ANGST BUT I HAD TO

58 notes · View notes

drgngutz · 1 month

Text

Coast - Luffy x f!soulmate!reader

Prologue

I've decided to cross post this from wattpad, since the teaser I posted seemed to be received so well. If you like this, and would rather get updates right away, I'll post the link to wattpad on my master list :)

I'll be starting a tag list for people who want to be notified for updates and don't use wattpad.

Hope u enjoy, <33

The bustling city created noise all around me. Over the years it's become the background for my rambling thoughts. The rapid and angry beeping of cars, which were always dodging the just-as-angry pedestrians, was as common of an occurrence as the construction going on across from the orphanage's scrawny apartment building. There was rarely ever a time of silence in the big city. The endless annoyance tended to grate on my nerves, and the days were passing slower and slower. A constantly parentless child in her last weeks of high school, there was barely enough money to make ends meet, much less move somewhere quieter. The side job at the convenience store wasn't working out, and having to care for the other kids in the orphanage with such a small amount was getting me nowhere.

Sighing, I stopped my trudging footsteps and turned my head towards the underside of my arm.

'Hey, I caught you! -M.D.L'

It made me feel worse every time I saw it; the fancy script that tattooed my forearm, close to my wrist and scribed in black ink. The perfectly unmarred scrawls used to make my stomach flip in excitement when I looked at it, but now it was just a constant reminder of what I was lacking. My own soulmate; just another person that didn't seem to want me.

Most people find their soulmates early in life, since we're gifted the markings of a soulmate at birth. The marks are hereditary depending on what kind you have, ranging from first words spoken (like my own), to seeing a glowing red string attached to their fingers; it all depends on what kind you inherited from your family. People can discover their soulmates as early as ten, though it's globally averaged they meet each other around sixteen to seventeen years old.

I was seventeen now, and in my final year of high school, so everyday that passed without hearing those words, the more nervous I got. It was possible that I would never meet them with a soulmate mark that didn't give me any information. I couldn't track them, find a picture of them, or communicate with them. Some people on this overpopulated earth are unlucky enough to never meet their soulmate; even unluckier people are born without a mark to match with someone else's. I was more scared of the first option.

No matter how many times I posted online, searched the match websites, or attended special 'soulmate conventions' where thousands gathered in order to meet new people, I still hadn't found mine. Most of the students in my classes had found theirs, and more than ever I felt the peer pressure of needing to find mine. The few friends I had whispered behind my back, some were pitiful, some just flat-out criticizing me for not finding them yet; not that they really counted as friends anymore. To make matters worse, the women who ran the orphanage often reminded me that it was only a matter of time before I would have to leave and make a home of my own. There were years wasted with foster families who I hoped would give me a way out spilled down the drain, only to never stay for too long. Then, I was back at square one.

The soonest way I could leave this place would be with the support from my soulmate.

Leaning against the railing of a bridge that I crossed to-and-from school, I stared up at the gloomy sky, feeling the beginnings of rain build up into a thin layer of moisture on my skin. The cars sped by, whirring with life as they switched between lanes or sped past others who were going too slow for their liking.

If I could speed past this point of my life like those cars, past the dullness of each passing day, past the hopelessness of my future; I would take that chance in a heartbeat. I could open a new chapter of my life, try to find some sense of self, maybe get the chance to find my passions. I loved the kids at the orphanage, them being my only 'family' left in this world, but it wasn't the same when compared to the idea of finding the one person you belong with. Someone who wants you for all that you are. I've been looking for that my whole life.

A low creak sounded, then a snap! Soon, I didn't have the support of the railing behind me.

Blinded by my brief desperation, I didn't readily take notice that I was starting to fall backwards; Stunned silent as I watched the metal rail of the bridge swing in disconnection above me. Small pieces of the metal followed my tracks as I began the plummet towards the rushing waters of the river below.

Stomach in my throat, I couldn't scream even if I wanted to. Falling silently to my death, heart racing, the delayed fear kicking in when I heard less of the rumbling cars and more of the rushing water beneath me. I finally started to understand that I was going to die.

My hair whipped around, a gust of wind blowing it into my eyes. I closed them instinctively, gritting my teeth with all of my muscles tensed so tight that they began to cramp.

I couldn't breath, couldn't see, couldn't feel.

The river below me flew and clashed with a ferocity; like the gnashing teeth of a beast.

It all went numb.

And then, I couldn't hear anything.

...

Slowly, I could register a difference. The soft sound of rushing wind around me. It was a lot warmer, coupled with the lack of the river noise from before. It was almost... gentle.

"Am I... dead?" I hadn't realized the words were said out loud until I felt my lips move, barely hearing my whispers over the wind, which was billowing harshly and picking up speed.

Opening my eyes I was met with a bright blue sky, the sun shining through the fluffy white clouds that were splattered across the scene. A small bird crossed the sky in front of me, blocking the rays of the sun for just a moment before it was out of sight again.

I blinked, wondering if I really was dead, before gazing at the (h/c) hairs that were flowing around my view.

Dazed, I took a glance below me.

It looked like a very large body of water; an ocean, to be exact.

What the hell was an ocean doing in the city?

Speaking of the city, there was none. It was vast, open space. Not a single landmass in sight. So, I was falling towards the ocean. An ocean that just sort of appeared, and not the river that I was previously about to drown in.

It took another moment before realizing the repeating danger; I was falling. Falling towards my death a second time. And at this height, a height much higher than when I had fallen off of the bridge, all of my bones would break and be pushed into my body. If the current didn't kill me, then the internal bleeding definitely would.

Tears bubbled up in my eyes. When my brain and body caught up to each other, I realized how close I had gotten to the water, and I was screaming shrilly before I could stop myself.

Terror ripped through me. After just having to accept the idea of dying in my fall off of the bridge, I was now flung into another gruesome death; but this time my brain had enough time to understand what was going on. There was no surviving this. I was either in hell, or stuck in my last moments; experiencing the fear of my own death on repeat. My vision was blurry as I choked on a sob.

The water was getting close... close, closer still.

Did I really have to go through this again? Was there no way I could survive this?

The instinctual, fearful process started again when I got within two-hundred feet of the water. I could hear the gentle lapping of the waves, now.

My teeth and eyes clenched shut, muscles tensing again to brace for the pain, heart racing for the incoming impact.

This was it. I was going to die. Again.

When the waves became the only thing that I could hear anymore, I felt a sudden pressure around my abdomen.

I was yanked to the side with a whiplash that was near breakneck speed. Grabbing at the squishy material around my waist for some sort of support, I opened my eyes right before I whacked into something solid. With a cry, we were both sent sprawling to the ground.

A low groan vibrated the object that I was now laying on, warm and firm, before I repeated the same sound; body aching from the fearful tension and then the rough collision. The surface beneath us rocked side to side, and I had to place a hand on the wooden boards beneath us to steady my trembling body before I fell over. Now on my knees between his thighs, I heard a shuffling in front of me.

Shaking my head, I opened my teary eyes to find the face of a boy right in front of mine. When our gazes met, he broke out into an enormous, adorable smile.

"Hey, I caught you!"

Chapter One

#luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy

34 notes · View notes

nekoannie-chan · 1 month

Text

It's not the same

Title: It’s not the same.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers & Brock Rumlow (Enemies).

Word count: 265 words.

Square: B3 “You can't justify murder by masking it with a cause.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve captured Brock, and wanted information about Bucky.

Major Tags: Mention of murder.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo round 3. SB3090.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

Steve was shocked; he couldn't believe that Brock had managed to escape from the hospital in his condition, let alone continue his life of crime.

He was determined to stop him, plus he hoped he knew Bucky's whereabouts; he might even be able to negotiate a plea bargain if he gave him information.

Steve had Brock in front of him; he wasn't even entirely sure what to say to him, but he was restraining himself from hitting him.

“I thought you'd learned after all that happened, Rumlow," Steve finally said after several minutes of silence.

“The one who hasn't understood or learned anything here is you, Rogers," Brock sneered.

“What am I supposed to understand? You worked for an organization that was dedicated to killing people."

“You worked for it, too," Brock said.

“Everything you've done all these years; you have no regrets?"

“I did what I had to do."

“You can't justify murder by masking it with a cause," Steve commented, trying not to raise his voice. He was about to lose his temper.

“You did the same thing in the war, and no one reproached you; how are we any different if we both have blood on our hands?“ Brock questioned, knowing he had struck a chord.

“It's not the same thing..."

“You can't justify it, Rogers; besides, your friend has also committed murder; how do you justify everything he's done all this time?"

Before Steve could answer, there was an explosion. By the time Steve looked back at Brock, he was gone. Steve cursed when he noticed that Brock had escaped.

#steve rogers bingo round 3 #steve rogers & brock rumlow

11 notes · View notes

thesparklingwriter · 2 years

Text

playing dress up

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.”

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, they have a kid because why not, Zhongli get bullied by his wife and daughter because he's whipped, i just wanted to write him with a kid, i am puking rainbows and candyfloss, this is a bit too sweet

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

hi, i'm interrupting your path to the fic because i wanted to say thank you for 50 followers (ik its not a lot but humour me) i made this blog like 3 weeks ago on a whim and i didn't expect people to like my stuff this much. so thank you again for all your support, and i hope you enjoy, and i don't know what to do to celebrate my silly little milestone but I'll probably just double-post tonight or tomorrow.

"Mei-mei?" You call, running up the stairs into your daughter's room. You heard a crash, and the silence since has been deafening. "Jingmei, are you okay?"

You hear tiny giggles and a playful bark. Thank the archons that she's okay. On that note, where is Zhongli? You creep into Mei's room, only to find her with bows on her horns that match Amber's collar. She giggles again. "Mama, look! Me and Amber are matching!"

You smile. "I see that, honey," You pick her up, hugging her tight against your chest. She's growing so, so fast, and it scares you. "You look amazing."

Jingmei having horns was a shock to your system. They sprouted one night when she was three, and since then, they appear whenever she's tired or really, really excited. Even Zhongli was surprised by it. "I don't know," he said when you asked why this was happening. "Archons having children with mortals is rare. I suppose it's like half-adeptus children, but I can't be certain." He pulled you to him and kissed your hair. "Stop worrying, love. She's healthy and happy. That's all that matters."

"Thank you, mama," she grins a toothless grin at you, and slides out of your hands, pulling you down with her.

"Mei, where's your father?" you ask her. She leans closer to you conspiratorially, pressing her forehead against yours.

"We're having a princess party. He's getting changed."

"Into a princess dress?" you ask, widening your eyes in excitement. Jingmei simply shrugs.

"I don't know. But he said I can decorate his horns." You chuckle to yourself, Zhongli doesn’t know the word ‘no’ when it comes to you, your daughter, or your dog. It makes you laugh that a whole archon gets bossed around by women when he gets home. "Mama, why don't you have horns?"

You'd been waiting for this question. Jingmei is an observant child--she gets that much from her father--it was only a matter of time before she questioned your lack of horns, and you'd been practising what to say. You considered running it by Zhongli, but you had a feeling he'd say the unfiltered truth--which you suspected would be too much for her to handle.

"I'm not special in the same way you and your dad are." You say softly. "You get your horns and magnificent hair from him, and your pretty smile and clever mind from me." In all honesty, Jingmei is more him than you in terms of appearance--sometimes people don't believe you are her mother, especially if they don't know Zhongli. But the minute she opens her mouth, everyone knows that she's yours. She's as eloquent as you are, quick-witted, and sometimes a little stubborn. And you love her for it.

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.” JIngmei smiles widely, throwing her arms around your neck enthusiastically, almost knocking you over in the process.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smile, littering her cheeks with kisses until she’s giggling uncontrollably.

"Jingmei, I'm afraid none of your mother's dresses fit me," Zhongli's voice trails in from outside. "I hope my makeshift dress will do." He walks into the room, with the blanket from your bed draped over his silk pyjamas. You and your daughter both burst into laughter, so much so that Zhongli almost blushes.

"What are you two laughing at?" He scowls, pulling you both into a hug, and gracing Amber with her obligatory head pats. She yips happily.

"Nothing," you both giggle.

Zhongli huffs, sinking onto Jingmei’s bed. He glances at his daughter’s makeup supplies from across the room. If he’d known he was going to be her only model, he’d have bought some less bright colours. “I suppose I should stay true to my promise.”

“Mei-mei,” You smile brightly, glancing at Zhongli with playful mischief. “How about I let you use some of my things today? Prince Papa deserves the best, no?”

Jingmei jumps up. “I’ll get it!” She giggles as the runs out of the room, Amber bounding happily behind her.

“How does she know where my make-up is?” You ask Zhongli lightly, sitting beside him and running your hands through his hair. He chuckles, leaning his head into your hands.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve used your makeup, love.”

“What?”

“It’s been at least a year and a half,” he says shamelessly. “We did ask you. Admittedly, you were half asleep, but you did say yes.”

You scowl at him. “I sure hope you don’t apply that logic to anything else.”

Zhongli laughs. “I don’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask for.”

“Yeah, hence why we have a four-year-old,” You scoff. He’s nothing but a big liar.

“If I remember correctly, you asked for that too.” You scowl at him even more—if that’s even possible—and gently slap his arms.

“Don’t say things like that when Jingmei’s around.” You hiss. “Especially when they aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” He smiles, drawing you closer to him. “I’m not in the business of spreading misinformation. You know that.”

You roll your eyes at him as Jingmei comes storming back into the room. “Found it!” She smiles happily. “Are we group hugging?” She says, glancing between you and her dad. She puts the makeup on the floor and barrels into the both of you, stretching her little arms out as far as they go.

She may not have the words to express it, but growing up in a house so full of love makes her want to show that love to whoever she sees—be it a bug she sees out in the wild, a new friend, or simply just her parents.

“Jingmei, darling, you’re prodding me with your horns.” Zhongli chuckles, trying to sit up. But the little girl insists on staying put, her grip on you both tightening.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Zhongli retorts. It sometimes throws you off to see how easily he switches out of his usual formal manner of speaking when it comes to his daughter. It seems he does the opposite to you sometimes--you swear he uses bigger words just to confuse you.

Amber yips excitedly and launches herself onto you, offended that she’s been left out. Zhongli chuckles to himself. He never thought this kind of life would suit him. He thought he was destined to live life on his own, detached from the rest of the humans he watched over. He’s grateful for you and his daughter because you made the decades of solitude worth it, and he’ll savour every minute he has with the both of you. And Amber.

an: i spent half an hour on a name website to try and find a traditional Chinese name that had something to do with crystals, and this was the best name i could find, but if it's actually a curse word or something I think I'll just cry

#flufftober2022 #genshin fluff #zhongli fanfic #ao3 fanfic #tswzhongliflufftober #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact flufftober #fanfiction #fan fiction #zhongli fan fiction #genshin fanfiction #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact

164 notes · View notes

no-i-cant-decide · 9 months

Text

Someday (ao3 link)

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 856

Tags: Fluff, Parenthood, Hope

Requested by @leximitchells 💜

"What are you smiling at?"

Callum glanced up from his phone, still grinning from ear to ear as he showed Ben what was on the screen.

"Stacey brought Lily and little Charli home earlier today," he said. The photo showed the newborn sprawled out in a bassinet while she slept, her dark hair sticking up at wild angles and her tiny hand clutching one of Stacey's fingers.

"As if it ain't noisy enough over there, now we get to hear her crying at all hours as well," Ben complained, though his soft expression didn't match his annoyed tone. "Better kiss your beauty sleep goodbye, babe."

"Nah, I bet she's an angel."

"She's a Slater, Cal. Every Slater woman who's ever lived is part banshee, and that little baby ain't gonna be any different."

Callum hummed in response, swiping through the other photos Stacey had posted, still with that big smile on his face.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked, giving him a funny look. "Anyone would think you've never seen a baby before."

"I just think she's cute, that's all." Callum clicked the screen off and set his phone down on the side table, wrapping his arm around Ben's shoulders as he brought his attention back to the telly.

"It's weird though, innit?" Ben said after a few moments of quiet, snuggling in closer to Callum's chest. "Having a baby at that age. Lily and Ricky are barely a few years older than Lex. Just don't seem right."

"Yeah, I'm with you there. But at least that little girl's got a huge, loving family to help take care of her, eh? It's better than what I had growing up."

Ben smiled up at Callum sympathetically, grabbing the hand wrapped around him and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I ‘spose you're right; there's worse things than having Stacey as a nan. She's done alright with the rest of her lot if you disregard the pregnant twelve year old."

Callum tutted at him, though he didn't argue. A comfortable silence fell over them again as they passively watched the movie playing on the telly. It was one they'd both seen plenty of times, but it was a favourite of theirs. And they loved any excuse to be together, curled up close on the sofa tracing idle patterns across an arm or a leg.

"Do you ever think about it?" Callum asked quietly as he ran his fingers through Ben's hair.

"What, having a pregnant twelve year old?" Ben responded, horrified.

"No, god no! What a nightmare!" He chuckled and scratched gently at Ben's scalp until he felt him relax back against him. "What I meant was, do you ever think about having a baby?"

Ben turned to look at him, a soft smile starting to spread on his face. "Like, us having a baby? You and me?"

"Well, yeah," Callum admitted, feeling his face flush.

It was something that had been on his mind a lot the last few days. Well, not just the last few days. But Callum realised in all the time they'd been married, neither of them had ever brought it up. Not that they'd had enough time to bring it up between every crazy, screwed up thing they had been through in the last four years of their lives. The more time went on, the more Callum wondered if that could ever be in the cards for them.

"I know we haven't really talked about it before, like at all. And I'm not saying I don't like how things are. You and Lexi mean the world to me, our little family is like a dream come true for me. I never in a million years thought I'd be lucky enough to have what we have–"

"Babe, it's alright," Ben soothed, cutting off Callum's rambling by reaching up a hand to cup his jaw. "I know what you meant. It's just- it's bad timing, innit? I've got to make sure Lexi's my focus right now."

"No, I know. That makes total sense." Callum smiled sadly, but tried to hide it by kissing Ben's forehead.

"But that don't mean I haven't thought about it," Ben continued, much to Callum's surprise, "because I have. And I do. Want to. Someday."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just, y'know, when things are more stable with Lex. And with me."

"'Course. I weren't talking right away."

"How could I say no to a little rugrat with your dimples and adorable ears?" Ben said, the fondness in his voice clear as day.

"A baby brother or sister for Lexi to boss around," Callum added with a laugh.

"Oh, she'd love that! She'd absolutely adore them."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment; looks filled with love and an excitement for the future, something that had become rare for them this last year or so. Callum then leaned down to connect their lips in a chaste kiss. They only broke apart because the giddiness bubbling inside both their chests made their smiles too broad, making it impossible for their lips to keep touching.

"Someday, yeah?" Callum's eyes were shining.

"Yeah," Ben agreed, "someday."

#ballum #ben x callum #eastenders #ben mitchell #callum highway #leo writes fanfic #lauren back at it again with posting requests that i can't help but write lol #leo takes requests

29 notes · View notes

fanficwritingcentral · 1 year

Text

Why, Q, I'm feeling quite buggered actually (Ao3 link)

Hi, so this was a fanfic inspired by some tags @cicerfics left on a post she reblogged that were so true tbh. So I wrote it and here it is, hope you all enjoy 😘✌️.

Summary: Q never thought that this would be something he had to deal with, ever.

"Where is Bond, Q?" The tired voice of M asked from Q's phone.

"I, ah, wouldn't know sir," Q replied back, his free hand clenched in a tight fist, "it seems double-o seven has gone off grid," he cleared his throat, "again."

There was silence on the other end, a silence so telling that Q closed his eyes and bent his head, praying to whatever god there was that M would accept this.

A few eternal seconds later M finally replied, "alright Q," he said, voice drier than it's ever been, "when Bond finally comes back in, do let him know he's needed back at HQ. There's a mission for him."

"Certainly sir!" Q said at once and winced, knowing his relief was too evident, "I'll be sure to let him know."

Another pause, then finally, "I'm sure you will." And the leader of MI6 hung up.

Q quickly dropped his hand and threw his phone onto the couch and took a shuddering breath.

"Off the grid, am I?" A voice called down the hall.

Q groaned and walked towards the voice, coming from behind a half closed door.

Opening the door revealed the talked about agent in question, laying in a bath filled with epsom salts. The water did nothing to hide his broad gleaming chest, a chest littered with red marks.

"My, my Q," he said with a grin, "lying to M on my whereabouts again are we?"

Q closed his eyes and groaned again, knocking his head on the doorframe, "what was I supposed to tell him, James? That I've made sure his best operative is out of commission for at least a week! Do you know what he'd do then James?"

"What will he do, Q?" James asked, grin still so evident.

"He'll ask me how!" Q cried and lowered himself to the tiled floor and gripped his hair tight in his hands.

James laughed brightly, making the water lap at the sides, "do you think you'd get in trouble for damaging government property?"

"James!"

The horrible agent laughed again. "Tell M you were ensuring I knew how to handle every scenario I could face in the field."

"Oh yes, that'll go over so well," Q rolled his eyes, now leaning against the door frame, 'Hello M, sir, yes agent double-o seven will not be available for the next week, why you ask? Oh yes, I was making sure he could handle absolutely anything in the field so I buggered him so hard I blew his back out."

James laughed so hard water splashed over the edge and winced slightly.

Q sighed, "careful James, you don't want to push this for another week."

James' bright blue eyes flashed to his, "wouldn't I, Q?"

"Absolutely not James!" Q said and refused to listen to the voice inside him screaming absolutely yes.

#james bond #daniel craig james bond #00q #q james bond #fanfiction #00q fic

68 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 2 years

Text

A Deal with God

Itto x gn!Reader

I came up with this idea back during the Perilous Trails event on Genshin and turned it into a collab event with @hutaoscoffinn. This is at least a month after we said we’d post stuff but alas 🥴 anyway here it is and I hope y’all enjoy

The blog posting this is 18+ only. Any minors who try to follow will be blocked

Tags and Warnings: very character centric, slight side ship content, temporary major character death, heavy angst, hallucinations

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

General Masterlist Kofi

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Is now the time for this?”

“Tell him I’m sorry…”

“What do you— Traveler, what do you mean?”

“You know how he is so just… tell him I’m sorry and that I love him. Take care of him for me.”

“Wait, don't—!”

~ ~ ~

Itto stretches as the sun feels warm on his face, his joints popping after his nap as he wakes his body back up.

“Ah I slept like a rock, good times…” he yawns, only to notice the grim look on Shinobu’s face as Floating Lavender Melon clings onto her. Lavender Melon’s eyes are red like she’s been crying and when he turns his gaze towards his lawyer savior her expression matches Shinobu’s in its solemnity.

“Huh? What’re you doing? What’s going on? Why’s everyone looking at me like that?” he asks.

He gets silence back. It’s his savior that speaks up first but even she seems a little choked up.

“Well, uhm, first thing’s first. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?” she asks cautiously and Itto can’t understand why everyone’s so fucking grim all of a sudden.

“The fuck are you talking about? I’m fine! I had an epic power nap and now I feel like a million mora! I feel like I’m forgetting something though…”

He stops to think for a moment, missing the way everyone winces.

“Oh yea! Wait… Weren’t we underground? How did we get back up here? And where’s (y/n) run off to?”

He looks around the other three trying to catch a sight of you but no dice. Lavender Melon starts crying and he’s not sure what he said to offend her.

“Hey don’t cry! What’s wrong?? Whatever it is I totally didn’t mean it! I’m just tryna figure out what’s going on!” he tries to assure her, worried he may have hurt your little friend’s feelings. You’re always telling him to play nice with Paimon.

“It’s a long story but… Itto you should know. Traveler didn’t make it,” Yanfei explains but Itto just cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean they didn’t make it? They were just with us when I took my nap.”

It’s Shinobu who speaks up next and the fact she doesn’t sound exasperated or teasing or any of the usual tones he hears her speak with is starting to freak him out a bit.

“While we were trying to escape we were attacked by these red spirits. Yelan and Xiao needed to focus on powering our way out, I was carrying you, Yanfei isn’t really a fighter so… Traveler sacrificed themselves to make sure the rest of us could get out. They’re gone Boss.”

Grief seems to hang heavy in the air but Itto doesn’t understand. You know how he feels about self-sacrifice. You’d never… and anyway there’s no way some stupid little spirits would get you. You’re The Traveler! Slayer of Dragons! Ender of the Sakoku Decree! Proud co-boss of the Arataki Gang! Well… he technically never talked to you about being co-boss but he figures you just know that the title comes with the territory of dating him. Regardless!! There is absolutely no way in hell you’re gone. Everyone else must be insane if they really think that.

“So what you’re saying is they’re still inside right?” he asks.

Everyone nods.

“Ok, then I’ll wait here.”

“Boss…” Shinobu starts.

“What?”

“They’re not coming back.”

“They are. Just you wait, aaaany minute they’re gonna spring right up and you’ll feel SO stupid for doubting the Great Arataki Itto and his equally fantastic partner.”

“Seriously it’s… It’s not happening. We should go.”

“Oh Shinobu. Silly, silly Shinobu. This is why I’m the boss. Trust me. My baby is gonna pop up right there and you’re all gonna wish you listened to Itto and stuck around to see it because it’s going to be fucking fantastic.”

“You didn’t… you didn’t see it, Boss. I’m sorry but we should go I—”

“Nope. Staying right here.”

“They had to have fallen hundreds if not thousands of meters! Even if they survived the fall they’re stuck! Forever! Don’t you get that? They’re dead!”

“Kuki…” Yanfei cuts her off, putting a hand on her shoulder to help ground her. It’s only then Shinobu realizes she’d started trembling and Paimon has grown even more distraught.

“Shit… sorry I… I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up,” she apologizes with a wince before turning back to Itto, “but you’re being stubborn. We can’t stay here, we need to get back to the others in Inazuma.”

“No. I’m staying here. You just don’t know (y/n) like I do,” Itto insists before stomping over to a spot on the grass some distance from the group and dropping down to sit there cross-legged, done with the conversation.

What did they know? Shinobu only just met you and even if you knew Yanfei before, she can’t possibly know you as well as your amazing, awesome, totally attentive and caring boyfriend does. You’re going to make it out. You have to. And no way is he going to let you surface and find yourself completely alone. So he doesn’t move; even when Yanfei squeezes his shoulder as well and then walks away; even when Shinobu shakes her head and leaves with Floating Lavender Melon in tow.

Itto stays when the sun goes down.

He stays when it comes back up again.

And the same the next day.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

Kuki figures Itto lasted a day before he finally realized you weren’t coming. Maybe his stubbornness kept him there for a few days. Absolute max a week. Regardless, when she touches down in Inazuma she’s fairly confident Itto is already on a boat back or at least hunting one down. In the meantime, as usual, she’ll have to keep the gang together and break the news to them. She’s not actually sure if taking Paimon with her is the best idea considering she’d only just met her, but the Arataki gang has always been about taking in strays and as frustrating as the gang’s naive optimism and overconfidence can be, that may be precisely the energy Paimon needs right now.

It takes everything in Kuki not to wince when the gang comes rushing up to her, clearly looking for their (stupidly) fearless leader. They’re surrounding her asking questions in a moment, too quickly for her to process any of them. Paimon shrinks against her chest, a habit she’s taken too quite a bit since the chasm.

“Ok, ok stand down guys, one at a time,” Kuki sighs.

“Where’re boss and co-boss??” Genta asks nervously.

The boys always get this way whenever Itto leaves: antsy and anxious. Usually their concerns are unfounded so it’s easy enough to brush off, but this time well… Kuki still isn’t quite sure how to break it to them.

“Boss is still in Liyue,” she starts cautiously, “he has business to attend to there still and Traveler… Traveler won’t be coming back.”

“What do you mean they won’t be coming back?” Akira presses.

Kuki doesn’t respond verbally. She just gives the boys a significant look and she knows they understand from the immediate aura of grief that seems to settle heavy on all their shoulders. She hates it. She hates she had to be the one to break it to them on her own; hates that Itto isn’t here with the perfectly wrong words to bring the mood back up. She doesn’t blame him for his absence but as frequently as Itto shows himself an incapable boss, it’s moments like these that remind her why he still carries the title.

“Anyway, Paimon will be joining us for now so you idiots better behave alright? We all have to take good care of her as a member of the Arataki gang,” Kuki declares and she’s grateful that the boys all respond enthusiastically. It’ll be good for them to have something else to focus on and Kuki could use the distraction herself. She barely knew you, but she still feels your loss quite deeply. It somehow both surprises her and doesn’t. It’s odd to consider someone so important after such a short time together, but she gets the feeling that’s just the effect you had on people. After all, how else could you have befriended such varied people from all across Teyvat? Even the adeptus had looked heartbroken by your passing.

And when it came to Itto, well… Kuki didn’t think he had any interest whatsoever in romance before you came along. It was all childish games, beetle fights, and getting into trouble until you showed up in his life. When he fell for you he fell hard. Kuki thought it was puppy love. She thought you were another hyperfixation Itto would latch onto, cause trouble for, and then move on from. But Itto’s love for you held firm and finally getting to see the two of you interact together in the chasm had shown her how wrong she was. Itto is careless by nature but she could see the way he tried so hard not to be careless with you. Perhaps you were a little too accommodating of even his dumbest ideas, sharing sympathy even when she and the others teased him for his recklessness, but Kuki didn’t miss the way he’d melt into you whenever you praised or reassured him. You didn’t let him off the hook, but you were soft with him in a way Kuki can never bring herself to be. She thinks it made for a good balance. She remembers commenting on it, how protective you seem of him sometimes, during one of those weird rest periods down in the chasm. You’d chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck.

“Yeaaa… it’s a bit much isn’t it?”

“I never said that!” Kuki refuted but you shook your head to show her it was ok.

“You could say it though. I know you’re right. I know stuff rolls off his back pretty quickly. Heck I probably get more upset over stuff than he does half the time. But… he’s had a lot of people judge him, write him off, and chase him out his entire life. He hasn’t had nearly as many protecting him. So even when he doesn’t care, even when it’s not that deep, I want to be by his side. Just so he knows y’know? So he knows there’s someone there when he can’t be The Great Arataki Itto.”

Kuki isn’t entirely sure there’s ever a time when he isn’t The Great Arataki Itto but your point touched her all the same. It was reassuring knowing her boss had someone with a better head on their shoulders by his side when she couldn’t be. Archon knows no one in the rest of the gang can be that person. As it is she’ll have her hands full keeping them in control without their charismatic leader to at least direct their chaotic energy somewhere.

Over the next few days Kuki’s time is spent corralling the gang and helping cheer up Paimon. Both tasks are all consuming and soon days turn to weeks without her even realizing it. The gang settles into a rhythm, hyperfixated on helping Paimon, who through their misguided efforts does start to smile a little more again. In fact, they settle into so much of a rhythm that Kuki doesn’t even notice that Itto should long since have returned to Inazuma from Liyue. When she does finally realize, it’s because Itto has made his triumphant return in the most Itto fashion possible:

By getting arrested.

An exasperated Kujou Sara alerts her that immediately upon arriving home, Itto attempted to break into Tenshukaku to gain audience with the Raiden Shogun herself and as a result Kuki now needs to go bail him out of jail. Again…

It’s at least reassuring he’s gone right back to his old tricks.

Except when she arrives at the prison, expecting a wide, sheepish grin and unrepentant enthusiasm, she’s instead met with a cold, eerie silence and an empty shell of her boss.

~ ~ ~

Itto failed you.

Asking the archon for help was his last shot and he failed you.

Tears brim in his eyes. He’s always been a cry baby hasn’t he? Shinobu teases him about it sometimes. He probably doesn’t deserve to cry over this. Not when he was knocked out when he should have been helping you fight off the spirits Shinobu spoke of. Not when he’s the only reason Shinobu couldn’t help you herself. Not when he’d just fucked up the only possible way he had to maybe get you back. He faces the wall as the tears descend, ashamed of them. He doesn’t deserve them. Doesn’t deserve to cry for you.

How many times has he been warned about being reckless? How many times has Shinobu told him his actions could lead to this very thing happening?

You were the best thing that ever happened to him and now you’re gone and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“Boss?”

Shinobu’s voice cuts through his thoughts. She must be so disappointed in him. She tried to tell him you weren’t coming and he didn’t listen and now she’s been out here running the gang alone for… he’s not sure how long. He lost track of the days after the first few.

“I, uh, bailed you out. We’re free to go.”

Itto rises from the ground finally turning around to face her only to realize he can’t meet her eyes. Guilt and bile climb up his throat. His ancestors must be so ashamed of him. So much for oni pride.

Shinobu hesitates as if expecting Something but Itto isn’t sure what. Another beat passes and finally she turns and starts to lead him out, occasionally checking over her shoulder as if she still can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. They step out into the hustle and bustle of Inazuma City but it feels wrong. You’re usually here waiting for him whenever Shinobu comes to bail him out. Instead there’s nothing. Shinobu just keeps walking as if there isn’t a gaping you-sized hole in the air and he follows because there’s nothing else he can do.

He wants to cry again.

He doesn’t.

When they reach Byakko Plain where the gang is waiting, they surround him and he thinks he hears Shinobu warn them not to crowd but it’s hard to process much of anything. As he finally lifts his gaze up, he finds he still can’t meet their eyes, especially when he notices Little Floating Lavender Melon amongst the group. Everyone talks at him at once except for Shinobu, who is trying to quiet the others, and Lavender Melon who stays silent. It all sounds like white noise to him but he can tell from their faces that they’re concerned about him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, shores up the scattered remains of The Great Arataki Itto and sets them ablaze to give one last announcement to his gang.

“I have to go! Granny needs me! Shinobu’s in charge until I get back!”

The moment he’s made the declaration he shoves past them all to head back towards Hanamizaka, leaving the ashes of himself behind. If he’d really been thinking he would have just stopped there immediately and slinked into his granny’s house on he and Shinobu’s way out of the city, before he could be confronted with the gang. But he hadn’t been. Everything feels like a blur. He’s not even 100% sure how he’s putting one foot in front of the other. He blinks and suddenly his granny is opening the door for him at her house and for the first time in forever he feels like that lost little kid with nothing and no one that she first found all those years ago.

Except he doesn’t have no one. He has an entire gang in fact. A gang he’s just left dumbfounded and abandoned on Byakko Plain. Yet somehow it doesn’t provide him any comfort knowing they’re there. He doesn’t know how to be who they expect him to be in a world without you in it. So instead he lets himself be a lost and lonely child, reliant on the kindness of a sweet old woman as she tucks him into the bed of his old room.

~ ~ ~

“Thank you for the walk,” Kuki sighs appreciatively as she follows Kujou Sara around on her patrol through the city.

“You looked like you could use it. I’m guessing you’ve been busy keeping the gang in check considering it’s been so quiet around here lately,” Sara comments as she watches her friend just as closely as she watches the streets around her.

It’s precisely that vigilance that allows her to notice the minute tensing of Kuki’s shoulders and how her steps stutter for just a moment as they walk.

“What is it? What have they done now?” Sara insists, suddenly protective. The gang has always run Shinobu ragged and Sara hasn’t been shy about expressing her concern. She’s tried to convince the other woman to leave the gang. After all, Sara would gladly get Kuki a job working amongst the Tenryou Commission’s forces. But Kuki shakes her head with a wry smile.

“No it’s not anything they’ve done. I almost wish it was. I at least know how to deal with that. It’s the boss. He’s been practically catatonic since I bailed him out last month. He was quiet the whole walk back and when I finally got him to the gang he made a flimsy excuse to leave and has been holed up in his grandmother’s ever since,” she explains.

There are few things that genuinely surprise Sara but hearing that the resident neighborhood nuisance has locked himself away from his merry band of misfits is certainly enough to do the job.

“He seemed fine when I arrested him. Perhaps a bit rowdier than normal but back to his usual tricks demanding to see the Shogun. What changed?”

“I have a theory about that…” Kuki starts and her saddened tone draws all of Sara’s focus, “you remember what I told you happened to Traveler right?”

Sara nods, her mouth pressing into a grim line. How could she forget?

“Boss didn’t give up on them resurfacing at first. That’s why he came back after I did. He refused to leave the entrance to the chasm, kept insisting it was only a matter of time until Traveler would pop out too. I think he finally figured out there was no way they could do it on their own so if Traveler couldn’t pull it off, and an adeptus couldn’t pull it off…”

“Maybe an archon could,” Sara says, completing Kuki’s sentence for her as the other woman nods.

“Yea… Once he failed to get help from the Shogun I think he just didn’t know what else to do. He’s not used to being completely shut down like that and I don’t think he knows what to do without Traveler.”

Sara may not be Itto’s biggest fan but she cares about Kuki. A lot. And if helping the infamous oni would lift a weight off Kuki’s shoulders then so be it. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts on the matter before finally sharing them with her friend.

“Well maybe he had a good idea for once. I can see if I can get a message to the Shogun through official channels. After all, Traveler has done much for Inazuma. We’d be remiss to stand idly by when we could potentially save them.”

Kuki’s eyes widen as she takes a gentle hold of Sara’s arm, stopping them both on the path through town. Sara feels her heart pick up speed in her chest, blood rushing to her face at Kuki’s grateful gaze.

“You’d seriously do that? I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, especially over the gang,” Kuki insists, although it’s impossible for her to keep the cautious optimism from her voice.

Sara clears her throat awkwardly, unable to maintain the eye contact as she finds herself suddenly feeling sheepish.

“O-Obviously. As I said, Traveler has done much for Inazuma and if bringing them back also makes things a bit easier on you then so be it.”

She feels Kuki squeeze her arm before it slips away and the other woman steps up next to her.

“Thank you Sara. I mean it.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t guarantee it will work.”

“I know but… somehow I already feel a lot better. So thank you.”

Sara isn’t quite sure she deserves the level of faith Kuki seems to have in this plan. After all there’s no way of knowing if the Shogun will be able to help even if she chooses to, which in and of itself is not guaranteed. Still, she won’t question it too much. Not when Kuki seems lighter than she has the entire time they’ve been walking together.

~ ~ ~

Itto doesn’t know that he’s ever felt such guilt in his entire life.

He feels guilty for failing you.

He feels guilty for failing the gang.

He feels guilty for burdening his granny and he feels guilty for dishonoring the proud name of the Oni.

It weighs on his chest, pinning him to the bed, and on the rare occasions he can force himself up, the weight simply shifts to his shoulders to make each step more painful than the last. He can barely move on the best of days, is completely immobilized on the worst. Every day he tries to get out of his room. Every day he fails.

In his defense he’s made progress. The first week he didn’t even bother trying. He laid motionless in bed staring up at the ceiling, ignoring every meal his granny left at his side. Things started getting fractionally better about halfway through the second week.

That’s when you started showing up.

Or rather… Not You.

Not You looks like you. They sound like you. They have all the right mannerisms and quirks and features. They’re almost identical to you in every way. So much so that when they first leaned over his bed to look down at him with their eyebrows furrowed in concern, his eyes had widened, vision going blurry with unshed tears as he thought for a moment that you had returned to him; but when he reached up to caress what he thought were your cheeks, his hand passed right through Not You, dissipating the image like smoke and leaving him alone with the guilt and the grief once more.

He’s learned his lesson since then. Don’t touch. Just look and listen and Not You will stick around to encourage him to do better. He considered the idea that Not You was the work of a tanuki or perhaps the archon herself, but he eliminated that possibility when he realized he’s the only one who can see them. No, Not You wasn’t gifted to him. They are a product of his own brain: his memories and imagination combining forces to give him the only potential cure to his current state that his brain could think of.

This time Itto makes it halfway across the room before the weight becomes too much and he has to sit down. He drops to the ground none too gracefully, chest heaving as if he’s run for kilometers on end instead of walking a meter or two at most. It’s the furthest he’s gotten so far but it’s still not nearly enough and the remainder of his room looms large ahead of him. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and sighs, body hunching over.

“You did so well Big Guy,” Not You assures him from where they’re stood at his side.

“It’s not good enough,” he fires back.

“For now it is.”

“But–”

“Itto?”

His head snaps up. The door of his room is open and Not You stands in the entryway with one hand still on the handle. His brows furrow in confusion as he snaps his head back to where he’d just heard Not You’s voice coming from only moments ago but they’re indeed gone so he returns his gaze to their new location. It’s odd. Not You doesn’t normally teleport between locations in his room anymore since it destroys the illusion and upsets him. And while Not You frequently looks at him with concern, they rarely look confused anymore. He thinks he catches sight of Shinobu and Kujou Tengu just past the doorway in the main area of Granny’s house but Not You closes the door behind themself before he can be sure. That too is odd. Not You usually can’t actually move things in his room. Maybe his… visions (calling Not You a vision sounds better than calling them a hallucination) are getting worse if he thinks Not You is actually moving things in the room now.

Not You approaches slowly and hesitantly, sinking down towards him once they’re close. They reach out as if to touch him and he flinches back and away. A flash of hurt crosses their face the way it always does when he reacts like this, but he’s found it takes longer for the vision to return when they dissipate from his touch so he’s extra careful now.

“You know I can’t touch you,” he rasps, his voice hoarse from how rarely he uses it nowadays. He tries to limit how much he verbally responds to Not You since Granny once caught him doing it and looked even more concerned than usual afterwards.

“Why not?” Not You asks and it draws a pained whine from his lips that reverberates through his chest, his broken heart struggling to beat.

“You know why.”

“Explain it to me again.”

He sighs heavily and his vision blurs with the tears he refuses to let fall once more.

“Because you’re not really here… You’re not really them and the minute I touch you you’ll vanish and it takes so long for you to come back,” he admits, his voice wet as he draws his knees up so he can hide his face in them.

But then suddenly there’s a warm hand on his back and someone takes hold of his chin oh so gently to force him to look up again. The eyes his gaze is forced to meet shine in a way Not You’s could never quite capture and when silent tears start to fall and Itto raises a cautious hand up to brush them away, the pads of his fingers meet warm skin instead of air.

All at once it hits him. This isn’t Not You, it’s you. He doesn’t know how but it’s seriously, actually you. For real. Flesh and blood and there and he doesn’t feel like wasting time to ask questions so he doesn’t. He simply launches himself into you, his large arms wrapping around you as he sends you both crashing into the floor, pinning you beneath his weight. For the first time since he left the chasm he fully sobs. It’s not a pretty sight with tears and snot running down his face but he doesn’t care because he finally has you firmly in his grip again and all of the things that Not You could never give him are back. Your unique smell, the gentle pressure of your chest rising and falling beneath his, and the reassuring thrum of your heartbeat in his ears.

“It’s ok Baby. I’m here. I’m right here,” you assure him and it just makes him sob harder.

But it’s good. It’s so incredibly good.

Because you’re right. It will be ok. It’ll take time for him to really believe it; for him to be able to close his eyes at night and truly believe that you won’t be gone when they open again; for him to seek out your touch and warmth without worrying you’ll vanish the moment he should make contact.

But here you are. And he suspects he owes his second in command and the tengu warrior to thank for that considering they’re both just on the other side of the door. He’ll find a way to pay them back later (whether they want him to or not).

For now he’ll just let himself sob against you, luxuriating in the feeling of the sweet comfort he thought he’d lost forever.

#itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #genshin fanfic #arataki itto angst #itto angst #hopeless.oneshot

113 notes · View notes

violetsareblue-selfships · 11 months

Text

Nostalgia

Ship: Kazuha x April | Word Count: 1506 | Warnings/Tags: food mention (again like vague), so sappy, proposal <3

A/N: surprise? ehe~ this is the official announcement I suppose that we're also engaged <3 I'll post the art in a few minutes~~ (and come back and link where it goes in the fic, I like when I did that for scara's :3 -- also this is set in-canon around the Irodori Festival for those who have game knowledge ^-^ I hope you enjoy it~ 💞

"Well, isn't this nostalgic?" April asks softly as she takes in the dark, mystical ambience of the Chinju Forest. "I almost forgot what this place was like…"

"I know what you mean," Kazuha murmurs, a small smile on his lips. "Remember that one time we played hide and seek here and you got so upset that you couldn't find me?" His tone turns teasing and April huffs, though there's a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"You cheated! I never said you could hide up in one of the trees!" If she weren't so keen on holding one of his hands, she'd cross her arms in childish indignation. As it is, she's fighting to keep from giggling.

"Ah, but you never said I couldn't, dove. Besides, I gave you that dango to cheer you up, remember?" Kazuha asks, his smile widening a little.

"Right! I'd forgotten about that… Huh, seems you've spoiled me from the beginning," April teases, grinning when his cheeks go red, barely able to be seen in the atmosphere of the forest.

Kazuha doesn't speak, instead he leads her through the forest until they reach one of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. They sit down together and Kazuha smiles at the automatic way April curls into his side, her warmth always a welcome one.

"Honestly… I'm surprised we didn't get together sooner," Kazuha murmurs after a while of silence, drawing a little curious sound from April. "You're right. I have been spoiling you since we were kids. Mainly because I knew there was something about you… something I had to keep in my life no matter what."

"I know what you mean," April says, her heart fluttering at his words. "You caught my attention immediately and I just knew we had to be friends. Sure, I didn't imagine it would end up like this, but… I'm happy we found each other."

"Mm…" Kazuha hums, turning to press a kiss to her temple. "I am as well. I don't know what life would have been like without you, but I know it wouldn't have been as sweet as it's been. As for now… I can't picture a future without you in it. One without you by my side… it just doesn't make sense."

April laughs softly, her face heating up. Somehow even after all these years, it still takes just a few pretty words from him to make her blush. "It's the same for me. That's why I plan to stick beside you. No matter what you plan to do."

"Mm…" Kazuha trails off, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "C'mon. The wind calls for us to head into the city for a bit."

"Hah, are you sure you're not hungry?" April teases and Kazuha chuckles.

"Maybe so… Then I was thinking we visit Araumi one more time before returning to Ritou."

"Sounds good."

The two stand up and work their way back out of the forest and down towards Inazuma City. Once there, they stop at a food stall and grab something to eat as well as some desserts for the visit to Araumi.

They eat together before setting off. "You know… it is strange to be back here. I know we have been back during the end of the Vision Hunt Decree but we didn't stay this long…" April murmurs.

"I know. It is odd to be here without having to be on edge as well," Kazuha says. They're always so in sync. He'd been feeling the exact same way the whole visit, even before when they were simply staying in Ritou for the Irodori Festival. It doesn't surprise him that they felt the same way. Not when they know each other so well.

"Exactly! It is nice, though, to see everything. It hasn't changed much…" April lets out a soft laugh, both of them knowing that that is due to their archon.

Kazuha chuckles as well. "It truly hasn't… Do you ever see yourself coming back here and settling down?" He asks quietly.

"Hmm. I could see it. But only if that is what you would want. I'd settle anywhere in Teyvat so long as we're together," April muses. "Or even if we never quite settle down. So long as I'm with you… life will be perfect."

"And you say I'm the one with a way with words…" Kazuha murmurs with a soft laugh.

They fall silent again until they reach their destination. They settle under one of the sakura trees and begin snacking on the dessert they'd bought.

Kazuha's eyes sparkle as he leans closer, brushing a stray bit of syrup from the corner of April's lips. He holds eye contact with her as he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking it clean while she blushes. "Sweet. But you're sweeter."

"Kazuha," April whines, her face feeling hot.

"Yes, my sweet? You know it's true," Kazuha murmurs, his eyes sparkling playfully. April whines and hides her face in his shoulder.

"You are dangerous," She murmurs softly. The only problem about knowing each other as well as they do is that they also know the best, most effective ways to fluster the other.

Kazuha simply chuckles and they finish the dessert with no interruptions. "Come here. Let me hold you a little while before we go back." Kazuha opens his arms, pleased when April easily settles into his lap and snuggles in close.

"You know… your words have got me thinking…" Kazuha murmurs, brushing his fingers through her hair softly. "I had already been tempted, but now… I really would like to ask you something. All I request is that you don't interrupt until I'm done."

"Kazuha?" April asks, but he simply looks at her expectantly. "I… okay."

"Good. Now, my precious dove, this whole trip has my thoughts all awhirl… As I mentioned earlier, I cannot see a feasible future without you in my life. You have been there for me when no one else was and you have seen every side of me that exists, yet you love all of me without question. You know I love you the same. For all your flaws, you are perfect in my eyes. You are my muse, my best friend, my lover, the reason I wake up every day, and more…"

While he speaks, Kazuha keeps gently playing with her hair, his eyes never straying from hers. And the longer he speaks, the more her stomach is filled with butterflies, anticipation lighting up every nerve as it builds.

"April, darling, I already have some semblance of an idea what your answer will be. But I find it remiss if I did not ask you this trip. It feels like fate has led us here for a reason, for this reason… So, my dearest, my most beloved…"

Kazuha has kept her attention so solidly on him, on his eyes, that she hasn't noticed him pulling a small bag out of one of his satchels. His fingers tug open the little drawstring bag and empties its contents into his hand.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming your husband? Would you marry me?" Kazuha asks, holding the ring up between his fingers, finally catching her attention with it.

The ring itself is relatively simple: a silver band with a pretty ruby as the centerpiece. But April recognizes it. "Kazuha… have you really had this since then??" She asks quietly and Kazuha chuckles softly.

"But, of course. This ring caught my love's eye. I just knew it had to be your engagement ring…"

"When did you? You didn't buy it when we were together…?" She asks softly, her eyes widening as he chuckles again.

"You got it. Beidou distracted you the next afternoon while I went back to the stall and bought it for you." Kazuha looks so proud of himself that it makes her smile. "As for your answer?"

"Of course, I'll marry you!" April says, tears pricking her eyes at how sweet this whole thing is.

Kazuha smiles at her, a soft little thing that takes her breath away. His fingers are gentle as he lifts her left hand and slides the ring into place, taking her hand and brushing a kiss over the ring.

April's breath catches in her throat and she loops her arms around his neck, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm getting you a ring," She says softly.

He simply chuckles. "If that's what you wish. I'm simply happy you said yes."

"As if I'd say no. You're it for me, Kazuha, you know that."

Kazuha brings her in for a soft kiss at that, his eyes sparkling with delight once the kiss is over. "Now, my dove, it is up to you when we return to Ritou. We can stay here as long as you'd like… or at least until sundown." He lets out a soft laugh at that.

"A little longer. I want you to myself a bit more."

"That sounds perfect, my dove."

And so, they stay there cuddled up, relishing the joy of holding their fiancé.

#/yes/ i know i hinted that xiao would propose today but... i still need to write his fic ehe~ so sometime soon #self ship #self shipping #self insert fanfiction #self insert fic #self ship fic #self insert #canon x si #canon x self insert #si x canon #self insert x canon #blanketed by autumn leaves💖🍁#my writing #crow don't look

12 notes · View notes

ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

stranger things ● summer of 86 pt 7 ● e. munson

warning

semi public makeout / PDA, saliva, mentions of Eddie popping a boner, so much fluff, holy shiiit. Another day and Barb/Robin are still happily gay and we're all here for it (in future chapters), Hopper / overprotective papa bear version makes an appearance, angst here and there, the older teens navigating adulthood (in the future), eventual filth, mentions of alcohol/we*d and smoking (in the future), total absence of a sci fi plot ( seasons 1 - 4 did not happen, obvs) and swearing, probably dirty jokes / dark humor ( in the future )

you/reader are female. you/reader are also the oldest byers. you/reader have a very specific look/style and personality + a smidge of a past, petnames and nicknames. this is another self indulgent thing so.. i'm not sorry at all tbh.

word count

3276 exactly. for any needed context part 6 <- can be read by clicking.

summary

“Yeah?” Eddie pauses and glances over at Gareth as he slips the black t-shirt over his head. “What?”

taglist + shoutouts

taglist is here <- click to be taken to it / add yourself. If you're here for Steve/Gareth and don't want to be tagged in anything for Eddie -or you want me to stop tagging, idk.. please let me know.

@allelitesmut - you are the sweetest, oh my goddd. your tags on my posts always make me so happy and I'm giggling and kicking my feet and it just makes me so glad you enjoy reading this stuff. thank you a million times.

@chaoticcancer

@caravelofthesun

@dylanwritesgood

@eddiemuns0nl0ver

@eddiemunsonspantschain - ilysm you have no idea. you're so amazing and I'm honored to have met you on here, you're the sweetest. <3

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

@tbmunson - bestie. baaabe. ilysm holy shit. i really really don't know what I'd do if I hadn't met you and you're amazing, you inspire me so much and i just need you to know that. really hope you enjoy this!