POV: you just tried to explain your gender funk to your short male BFF and he misinterpreted it to him thinking you want to be short 

can we get a moment of silence for Pat’s patience in this trying time, thank you

Amaranthine - Chapter 2 -Special Order

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            “Have a good day now,” Marinette said.

            The customer smiled and waved Marinette off as she left.

            Marinette sighed and went to the back. She did inventory of her stock when she heard the bell ring. She hurried back to the front to see Nathalie Sancoeur approach the register.

            “Madame Sancoeur! What a surprise. Did you need more herbs?”

            “Ah, no. I’m still working through the last ones you gave me.”

            “You are taking them, right?”

            Nathalie chuckled. “To my deep regret. I fear Adrien often has to fight me to take them.”

            “Nathalie,” Marinette scolded.

            Nathalie smiled nervously. “I know, I know. I just… it’s not getting better for me. I know the herbs are to help to alleviate the pain and other symptoms, but I’m not getting any better.”

            “I’m sorry. It’s a little difficult to treat your condition. The best I can do is alleviate all the other stuff.”

            “I know, and I appreciate it. It just can be difficult to remind myself of that some days. However, I came to make a special request.”

            “Oh? Does Adrien need something then?”

            “In fact, he does. See, he’s hosting an event in a couple of months. Now, can you keep a secret?”

            Marinette smirked. “I believe there’s something about doctor/patient confidentiality or something like that.”

            Nathalie laughed that turned into a violent coughing fit. Marinette moved around the counter with a clean rag. She patted Nathalie’s back while she cleaned away the blood Nathalie coughed up.

            “Thank you, young lady.”

            “You should be resting. Next time Adrien needs something, no matter what, tell him to come himself. Doctor’s orders.”

            “I just have to let him from now on.”

            “Anyway, what is this special order he needs?”

            “Right. Well, at this event, he’ll be announcing who he intends to marry. It’s between two wealthy and influential women. He’d like a special arrangement made for the girl he chooses as a declaration of his love.”

            Marinette chuckled. “Well, you came to the right place. I’ve yet to have any man, woman, or anyone else be declined when presented with my bouquets. Better than Andre’s ‘sweetheart ice cream’ nonsense.”

            “Exactly. Adrien needs this to be perfect given how his father’s legacy and his own future is on the line here. He cannot afford any mistakes. Though, I feel he’ll make one.”

            “Well, of course. No one is perfect and we’re all going to make mistakes. It’s just a matter of living with them.”

            Nathalie blinked, then smiled. “Right. I suppose I’m just worried given I’ve little time left, and I want to see him happy.”

            Marinette smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be alright. He’s had you all his life, no? You raised him into the fine young man that he is. You have nothing to fear.”

            Nathalie’s eyes misted over. “Thank you, Marinette.”

            “No need to thank me. Anyone could see it. Now, go home and rest. And, seriously, if Adrien or you need anything, he’s to come here himself.”

            “Don’t worry, I will. I’d rather not fight with you, or him, on that front.”

            Marinette tilted her head as Nathalie left her. She hummed and headed to the back. She stopped at the entrance to her herb storeroom when she saw Longg in the corner of her eye.

            “She’s gotten worse,” Longg whispered.

            “I know. I just… I want to help her, but nothing is working.”

            “Maybe you’ll be lucky with this batch,” Longg remarked.

            Marinette sighed. She stepped into the storeroom up to stovetop. She stared into a pot with an experimental brew within. She fidgeted with her hands as she glanced at her notes. She had been attempting a miracle cure since meeting Nathalie. She knew she could help with Longg’s assistance, but any attempt to replicate the old recipe were fruitless.

            Marinette huffed in frustration. She made this once before in a previous life. She was able to save people from the brink of death, mend fatal wounds, and cure the incurable. It led to her burning in that life, but she made a difference. She saved people. She met her soulmate because of it. This was the key she needed, but it was still far from her grasp.

            “What do you think of this batch?” Marinette asked.

            “It’s a little weak, but you’re heading in the right direction.”

            Marinette cursed. “I need something else. Something potent.”

            “You had it back then. However, your kind also wiped out the herb from this planet. Without it, you can’t achieve that brew.”

            “I know, but I still have to try. It could mean the difference between so many lives lost and-.”

            “And meeting your soulmate. I know.”

            “Yes, that. But also saving Madame Sancoeur. Modern medicine has failed her, and so I am when I have the means to save her. If only I could recreate this. Could we try some other mystical, magic herb from that Paradise you mention a lot?”

            “Well, I mean, we can, but that’s dangerous. We’d have to take extra precautions given how those herbs aren’t like anything on this planet.”

            “I’m willing to try. If nothing on this planet can save her, I’m willing to look elsewhere.”

            Longg shrugged. “Very well. Now, for this concoction.”

            Longg stepped around Marinette. She took a deep breath before she tasted the brew.

            “Well?” Marinette asked.

            “Hmm. This will make a nice remedy for wounds to assist in the healing process and ward off infection.”

            “What kind of wounds would you say?”

            “Minor scrapes to, say, someone cutting themselves to about the muscle.”

            “Well, that’ll be an easy sell. What about bruising?”

            “Take a sip and find out.”

            Marinette furrowed her brow. “Where do I have more bruises? Didn’t they all heal already?”

            “You have a nasty one on your outer left thigh, a small one on your right backside, and a few dotted on your right leg.”

            Marinette groaned. “Where do they keep coming from?”

            Longg snorted. “Drink up.”

            Marinette took a ladle and drank a small portion of the brew. “Alright. We’ll give it, say, an hour to see if there are any results?”

            “Sounds good to me, though I will check in thirty minutes.”

            “Sounds like a plan. Now, I’ll bottle this up and-.”

            “I’ll bottle it. You need to begin designing your next set of bouquets. Especially for that hunky Adrien.”

            Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re more than welcome to pay him a visit. What you do then is up to you.”

            Longg laughed. “Please. I prefer the slender creatures, like Sass. They’re far more fun to play with. Like little wet noodles.”

            “Right. Anyway, don’t make those jokes, Longg. He’s a customer and his mother, guardian, person is my client.”

            “Yeah, yeah. You mortals and your agreements and moral codes. I’m just saying, it’s ok to experiment a little.”

            Marinette blushed. “Longg! Don’t… no. Besides, why would he have any interest in me? I don’t come from a noble blood or have any prestige that means anything in his world. He’s like a crown prince that needs his princess, not some lowly apothecary. And I’m no princess.”

            “No, but you are a knight. And I’ve read your collection of saucy books of knights and princesses. This would just be the reverse. That way you can live a fantasy and indulge in more primal urges.”

            Marinette glared at Longg with a beet red face. “What have I said about this subject?”

            “That I enjoy it too much making you blush just because I know you need to be laid.”

            “I do not! And no! That’s not what I’ve said at all,” Marinette screeched.

            “Really? That’s what I kept hearing.”

            Marinette growled. “Look, please. I’m not interested in anyone just finding my soulmate.”

            “Look, I’m just gonna outright say it. That’s fine if you only want your soulmate romantically. I get it. However, I do think you’re doing a disservice to yourself by limiting yourself to just them when there’s no guarantee you’ll meet them. I just think you should at least live life a little. I mean, fuck’s sake, all you know is this shop, your witchcraft, and your smut. Sure, you are a knight, but you hardly live when you’re that.”

            “I mean, is there something wrong with that?”

            “No, I just don’t want to see you waste your life again. You were a hermit before. You lived in isolation out of necessity. However, you don’t have to in this era and I just want to see you have the life you couldn’t back then. So, go and live. Do what you couldn’t before. That’s all I ask. So, when your soulmate may come around, you won’t have any regrets and can live with the life you’ve led.”

            “I’ll… I’ll think on it.”

            Longg nuzzled Marinette. “That’s all I ask. Now, take care of your designs. I got this.”

            Marinette hugged Longg. “Thank you… for everything.”

            Longg chuckled. “Always, dragonling.”

week 18: we're having a barbecue

prompt from the off-season winter sport challenge

charachters: Gino Caviezel, Mauro Caviezel, Nina Bienz

length: 728 words

author's note: pt. 2 coming next week!

The front door opened and Nina, Mauro’s girlfriend, greeted Gino with a friendly smile.

“Now what brings you here, Mauro said you’ll be off until next week?”

“I took an earlier train. Actually, speaking of Mauro, is he here?”

Gino tried his best to hide the distress that caused his insides to jump up and down. Nina made an inviting gesture. “Yes, he’s here. Come on in, we’re having a barbecue, you’re welcome to stay!”

She led him through the hallway into the open spaced living room that connected to the kitchen on one side and to the generous porch on the other. Gino had to restrain a laugh when he spotted Mauro behind the stove, wearing an apron that read “hot mess” across the upper part. He had to admit though, the domesticity suited him very well. He was stirring the contains of a sauce pan and was equally surprised to find his brother standing in his kitchen. It was one thing to hide his condition from Nina but a whole other with Mauro. One look from him was enough to make the panic swell up in Gino’s chest again, so that his hands started to shake and he could feel himself go pale. Thanks to the decades of experience on being the older brother, Mauro was quick to react. He handed the spoon over to an obviously very irritated Nina, and took a hold of Gino’s arm, guiding him through the glass door to the terrace. The hurry was indeed justified. A hint of a second later, Gino lost all his composure.

“Fucking shit why did I do this?! What on earth made me think that this was a good idea, there’s no way this isn’t going to end up in a giant catastrophe, I cannot- ARGH!” He was pacing up and down, his hands buried in his hair, as if he was trying to pull it from his scalp. Meanwhile all Mauro did was lean at the table, watching his brother carefully, until the latter caught his breath again and looked at him.

“What exactly are you talking about?”, Mauro then asked. Gino exhaled. A good sign, Mauro had already seen him passed out on the floor from hyperventilation. The younger one closed his eyes for a moment, took several deep breathes and then confessed: “I talked to a journalist. About…the thing. They asked me if they could launch it as the headline tomorrow. I agreed.”

To anyone not included in Gino’s closest circle, this statement would’ve made zero sense. But to Mauro, it could have not been any clearer.

“Please know that I love and support you no matter what and that I only mean well when I say what the fuck, Gino?”

The whole situation wasn’t funny at all and perhaps that was the reason why the two brothers erupted in laughter. Gino’s panic was forgotten, telling Mauro about what he had done had held the effect he had been hoping for. Gino feared the day Mauro wouldn’t be around and available to help him getting his thoughts back on track.

“You don’t think it was a bad idea?” Gino asked as they both had calmed down again, leaning against the table next to Mauro. The view across the yard was amazing, with the sun setting in their backs, the porch was laying in the shadow already, making the temperature adapt to a pleasant degree and illuminating the scattered clouds above their heads with its last streams of golden light. In the distance, the mountains rose. 13 weeks left.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. A bold one for sure. And you’re right, it will have some sort of consequences and not all of them will be positive. But you’re doing the right thing.”

The silence that spread between them was interrupted by a knock at the door behind them. Mauro opened it and Nina placed a heavy tray with more force than necessary on the table.

“Thanks for the help”, she said, her voice dripping from sarcasm. Gino took that as his cue to leave. “Sorry, I didn’t want to crash the party. Thanks again.” He gave his brother a pat to the back and was almost out of the door when Nina called: “Don’t be silly, you’re staying. That way, Mauro gets to prove his cooking skills to someone other than me.”

sleep softly, love; genshin impact

synopsis: how i think certain genshin impact characters would fall asleep next to you for the first time :)

note: hihi! so i finally feel like i’m caught up enough in genshin lore that i can start actually writing for it!! yay!! anyways, i’m sorry if my portrayal of them is a lil ooc, i’m still getting used to writing for them. still, i hope you guys enjoy! :D

pairings: xiao x reader, diluc x reader

tw: mentions of nightmares and death in xiao’s, mentions of alcohol and suggestive themes in diluc’s, ooc characters, mostly j fluff, not proof read (oops)

wc: 2k 

masterlist

xiao:

the first few times you bring up sleeping next to him he’s probably going to turn you down

you see, xiao doesn’t really need to sleep, nor does he want to

he finds the idea of lying in a comatose state for eight hours in complete darkness to be “weird” and a “waste of time”

and his opinion on the matter doesn’t change for a while

that is, until you confess to him you’ve been having nightmares

these nightmares were like nothing you have ever had before

they shook you to your very core and, rather than the dream just leaving your mind after you woke up, they followed you around for days

once you confide in xiao about these terrors, he grows very concerned

in the past he’s known people who have been plagued with nightmares as a result of a dangerous curse that, more often than not, ended in death

the thought of you, the person he cares about most, succumbing to such a terrible fate frightens him more than anything — not that he’ll ever admit this to you.

and so, reluctantly, xiao agrees to spend the night with you

just this once, to protect you

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

You roll over to face him and for a moment he panics. To Xiao’s knowledge, couples who slept together often cuddled with each other. While he did occasionally enjoy a few close moments with you, Xiao couldn’t say he was very taken with the idea of physical contact — especially in a situation that left him so vulnerable. To his relief, however, you stay on your side of the bed. Your hand rests on top of your pillow and slowly, almost cautiously you maneuver it so it’s lying a bit closer to Xiao — a silent invitation to hold your hand, is what the adeptus recognizes it as. This gesture was not foreign to him, you did things like this often. You always kept your hand outstretched to him. Even if he were to pull away or turn his back, your hand was still there. You were still there.

“Xiao.”

Your gentle voice catches his attention immediately. As he looks into your eyes all he can see is admiration, his heart clenches at the feeling it gives him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “for being here for me like this.”

Xiao simply nods his head at you in response.

“Sleep,” he whispers, his tone commanding yet soft, “I will be here when you wake.”

He desperately wants to say more. To let you know that he would always be there for you, that no challenge would ever be too difficult if it was for you, that he would rip the moon from the night sky if it meant that you would rest a little easier. Yet, the kind smile you give him shows that he need not continue. You know he loves you, you have never once doubted it. You are aware of the burden he carries and how it affects him. You know that one day he will be able to share with you the confessions of love and vulnerability that are buried deep inside him. For now, this is enough. He is enough. And so, with a content smile you snuggle even further into your pillow.

“Goodnight, Xiao.” You whisper before finally closing your eyes.

Xiao stares at your resting form for a while. It is not until your breathing evens out and he is sure you are asleep do his eyes flicker from your face to your hand lying closely to him. All of the sudden, an overwhelming urge to hold you in some way overtakes the adeptus. Again, Xiao was not the biggest fan of physical affection, however, something about you looking as peaceful as you do in this moment evokes something from him. And so, he decides to finally accept your invitation. As his palm meets yours in a tight hold — not tight enough to wake you, of course — Xiao allows himself to indulge in the warmth and safety you provide him, just this once.

Neither of you have any nightmares that night.

diluc:

you and diluc are in a fairly new relationship.

having just started seeing each other a few months ago, it’s only natural to not have done anything too domestic quite yet.

not to mention, our ever stoic winery owner is a bit shy when it comes to his affections.

the two of your were every content with your soft, simple touches.

hand-holding, hugging, and subtle kissing kept you both very satisfied.

until you decide to get drunk at dawn winery.

your work has been k i l l i n g you recently

commissions are beginning to pile up, hilichurls have invaded the area you were supposed to scout next, and you couldn’t help but think that you were getting a bit rusty with your weapon.

all and all, you are very stressed out.

you desperately want a chance to relax.

originally, you had planned on just having a drink or two and ranting to your ever so reliable boyfriend.

however, a drink or two turned into three, then four...

before you knew it you couldn’t remember how many you had and it was rather late.

being the gentleman that he is, diluc forces offers you his bed for the night

seeing as you were in no condition to return home on your own, he has no choice.

it’s the responsible decision.

however, he’s still very flustered about the whole ordeal

Dulic thinks you are a handful. Especially right now. 

He huffs as he attempts to open his bedroom door one-handed. The other appendage preoccupied with keeping you slumped against his side so that you don’t fall over. 

“I knew you shouldn’t have had that last glass of dandelion wine.” He mumbles, gently scolding you. 

You simply blink up at him, a bored expression on your flushed face. 

“You sayin’ I can’t hold my alcohol?” you hiccup, “I’ll show you…” 

You attempt to push off of him, but his hold on you tightens. 

“No,” he grunts, “You won’t.” 

Finally the door opens and Diluc lets out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he lifts you up — earning a small ‘woah’ and a giggle from you — and carries you over to his bed. He then sets you down and turns to his dresser to get you some clothes to sleep in. He picks out a large, white, long-sleeved undershirt and. Your lips curl into a suggestive smirk and you chuckle. 

“Oooh,” you tease, “Master Diluc how bold of you, are you going to dress me?” 

The pyro user looks absolutely mortified but you pay no mind to it, too busy laughing and hiccupping at your own joke. A prominent blush grows on Diluc’s face as he shuffles over to you. 

“Of course not!” he stutters, dropping the clothing article gently on your head. He then grabs a pile of his own clothes and makes a beeline to the door. Just as he is about to exit he turns to you. 

“Wait here,” he instructs, “and try not to fall asleep yet.” 

And with that, the Diluc dashes down the hall, presumably leaving you to get changed. You do just that, tugging off your shirt and removing your bottoms. You huff as you lift your boyfriend's shirt up and over your head. As soon as the garment falls over your shoulders and past your knees, you’re hit with the rich scent of chestnuts and mahogany — the scent of Diluc. His undershirt is so baggy and so warm that you cannot help but feel at ease, Diluc always did have a way of making you feel safe — whether it was the hand he always places on the small of your back when he guides you around town or the look in his eyes when he spots you across the room, so sure that you’re the one he’ll always search for. The red-head returns a moment later clad in a dark, short-sleeved undershirt, similar to the one he gave you, and a pair of soft pants. In one hand, Diluc holds a fresh glass of water and in the other a pillow that seems to be smaller than the ones laid out in his bed. Diluc gently sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit next to him. As soon as the bed dips with your weight, Diluc is handing you a cup of water. 

“Drink,” he instructs once again, “so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.” 

You do as you're told, dutifully downing the refreshing liquid. The minute your lips leave the cup he takes it from you, setting it on his bedside table. Then, Diluc picks you up once more and positions you so you are laying properly on the bed. He pulls the covers out from under you and makes sure you’re tucked in well. 

“There,” he says finally, pulling the comforter up to your chin, “are you comfortable?” 

However, he does not receive an answer. You’re already half asleep, head slumped against the pillow, mouth hanging wide open. Diluc smiles in spite of himself. He should be mad at you, he knows he should. But, as you lay there with your hair a mess, wearing one of his shirts, in his bed, Diluc cannot help but fall even more hopelessly in love with you. Stroking your hair a few times, he finally leaves a light kiss on your forehead. Hesitantly, he gets up, being very careful not to jostle you. He’s about to head to his living room to sleep, but he can barely make it two steps away from the bed before a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He turns to see you, still snug in his bed, a pout adorning your features. 

“Where’re you goin?” You grumble out sleepily. 

Diluc looks at you curiously. 

“I’m going to let you sleep,” he whispers, “You need to rest.” 

He attempts to remove your hand but your grip only tightens. Suddenly you pull him down, your faces only inches apart. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft — so soft that Diluc doesn’t think he would have heard it if he weren’t so close to you, “stay.”

The blush from earlier creeps back up Diluc’s neck and rests upon the apples of his cheeks. Hearing you plead for him like this evokes a sense of warmth within the pyro user. He’s never felt so wanted before you. Ultimately, Diluc gives in and indulges you — how can he not? Crawling into bed next to you, he stiffens when you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around his torso. Diluc stays up a little while after you doze off, admiring you. 

Diluc thinks you are a handful. However, he thinks he can handle it if at the end of every day he gets to hold you like this.

please do not steal or repost my work, thank you!

Red, like blood. Blue, like love.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au

Prompt: 88 & 183

There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.

 "Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”

She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.

Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers. 

Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”

“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you. 

“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”

And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.

“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”

You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.

“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”

 It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be. 

Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.  

Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.

Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.

Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.

Fat lot of good it did for you. 

Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.

Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that. 

You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.” 

Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.

“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”

You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again. 

You moved out of that school. 

You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better.��

There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).

The proof hit you in the face. Literally. 

“Oi, Shittykawa!”

Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium. 

“You hit someone!”

How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes? 

You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.

“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”

“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.

In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you. 

Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.

Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.

If he’s here, then— 

“You,” he whispered. 

“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.

He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.

“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”

That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it. 

The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle. 

Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.

Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.

“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!” 

This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early. 

“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”

Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience. 

You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about. 

“They’re so mean to you.” 

You groaned.

Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room. 

He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”

You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.

“Must be lonely, having no one.”

“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.

But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows. 

When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”

You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave. 

You disliked those moments with him. 

You disliked him especially when he played. 

Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face. 

It looked like....anger. 

He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?

You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again. 

As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach. 

Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away. 

That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.

They lost the Interhigh tournament.

You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully. 

The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself. 

 What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.

 “Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”

Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:

“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”

Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face. 

This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.  

You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat. 

He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!” 

“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”

Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”  

Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!” 

Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa. 

“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?” 

“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.

You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice. 

“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”

His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”

This isn’t going anywhere. 

You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does. 

“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”

The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed. 

He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?

You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.

You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.

Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.  

“You’ll never be happy,” you said.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer. 

Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?” 

(Go. Leave.)

“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”

(Shut up. Shut up.)

“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this. 

“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.” 

Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.

“What about you?” 

You looked back at him.

“What?”

He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards. 

He brushed your wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it. 

Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time. 

But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru. 

It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.

You broke away from each out with a cry.

Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores. 

You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations. 

“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”

“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 

Well, it’s not as if this is news to you. 

“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”

Why are you crying?

Why is Oikawa crying? 

“I knew it,” he croaked.

Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason. 

There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?

Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide. 

Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth. 

Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else. 

You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.

“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”

You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed. 

Listen carefully, your mother said.

“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.

The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—

Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.

And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—

“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss. 

The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.  

"Hey, where'd senpai go?" 

The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.

"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say. 

You could answer that question. All you  had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"

Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first. 

Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."

With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.  

The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.  

He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.

"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard. 

You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-

But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you. 

Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite. 

Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.

(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)

His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.

"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.

You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.

And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.

"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.

Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.

"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"

He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.

"Now, what were you saying?"

You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this. 

"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"

It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.

But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.

His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.

"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."

"Oika-Oikawa…"

You don't know this person. 

"Help..me.."

You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs. 

It couldn't be you.

"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"

Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."

"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"

(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)

Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.

"Wanna- I wanna cum."

Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."

He released your arms. 

Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.

"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."

His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh. 

"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."

You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster. 

You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.

He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours. 

You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you. 

"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."

The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips. 

They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.

"Holy shit."

You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.

It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.

Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."

"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"

"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "

You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”

There were several gasps. 

(Everybody knows now.)

“You..and her?” 

The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.

“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?” 

Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left. 

Except for one.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.

“What did you do, Oikawa?”

A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”

Please. 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. 

Please help me.

“Sure,” he grunted.

He was gone, too, after that.

You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear. 

“I hate you,” you rasped. 

“Don’t say that.”

“I fucking hate you-”

“Please stop yelling-”

“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”

“You’re the only one for me.” 

Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.

“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together. 

The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows. 

A Tainted Rescue Part 2

hello! i cannot escape my own terrible ideas! Have more Heisenberg porn! Karl Heisenberg/Maiden Rating: Explicit | WARNING: dark content, explicit smut, big sexy evil guy doing bad things Word Count: ~2500

Lord Heisenberg lifted the maiden into his carriage and pulled her onto his lap as the mechanical horse took off away from the castle. She shook and cried in his arms, whimpering with every rattle of the wheels on the unpaved path to the Lord's domain.

"You're safe now," he promised her. "I'm going to take good care of you."

She clung to him, face buried in his chest as he ran his hand up and down her back in a slow, steady rhythm. Her breathing began to even out and her sobs turned to sporadic hiccups the farther they traveled from that horrid castle.

Lord Heisenberg was extremely proud of himself. He had managed to pull one over on Alcina all while getting a delightful new toy to play with. She was so precious, so perfect. He would have to make sure to spoil her rotten.

Just outside of the factory grounds, covered in overgrown plants, a small stone staircase led up to Lord Heisenberg’s house. He helped the maiden up the worn steps, holding branches out of the way as they ducked through the overgrowth. 

“I never actually use this place,” he explained. “I spend most of my time in the factory. But that’s no place for you. Now I finally have someone to come home to.” He kissed her knuckles as he led her across the threshold.

The lights were electric, and they turned on at a wave of the Lord’s hand. He chuckled at the maiden's awestruck expression.

The house was a mess, dusty and cluttered. It must have been months since the Lord actually stayed there. Narrow and tucked into the hillside, the two story was smaller than Lady Beneviento’s villa but still larger than almost any of the houses of the village. 

“Heh,” he laughed wryly. “Looks like this place needs a lot of work.”

He led the maiden up the stairs and to the main chamber. The room was sparsely furnished with just a low double bed, a wardrobe, and a writing desk piled high with books and papers and the same scrap metal that seemed to appear throughout the Lord’s domain. It was nothing like the opulent and immaculate rooms of the castle.

The maiden let Lord Heisenberg push her to a seat on the bed. He knelt in front of her, squeezing her jaw in one hand and forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“I may not be as fucked as my witch of a sister, but let me make one thing clear. I am not above killing you. You will stay out of my factory. Understand?”

The maiden whimpered, tears once again threatening to spill over her cheeks. “Yes, My Lord.”

He released her jaw and patted her cheek lightly. “Good girl.” He shucked off his coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair. His hat and glasses were quick to follow. He sat beside her on the bed and unlaced his boots.

The maiden removed her own shoes -- the only things she wore that were intact. Her stockings were shredded, as were her skirts. She didn’t even have any drawers on anymore. The front of her dress was ripped down to her stomach, and she tugged the fabric over her shoulders and out from under her until it fell in a puddle on the floor. She was naked and bruised and marked. She felt filthy, used, ruined. But that was what the Lord said was needed to save her. If he hadn’t done what he had, she would be dead at the hands of the Mistress.

The Lord must have seen her numbness, her distress, because he pulled her into his chest and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Hey now,” he whispered. “She can’t touch you here. I’d like to see her try.” He sounded as if he would welcome the fight. “Let me make you feel good.”

He laid the maiden on her back and nudged her thighs apart so he could kneel between her legs. The sight of the damage he had done at the castle brought a smile to his face, and he pressed his fingers into the bruises that were blooming across her thighs.

With no preamble, he pressed two fingers inside of her, crooking them and stretching her open. The maiden whined and gripped the linens with white knuckles. The Lord was only spurred on by her reaction and added a third finger. He loved the way she tightened around him, and longed to feel it on his cock again.

Despite her inexperience, it was no time at all before she was dripping just from the motions of his fingers. He made sure to bring her right to the brink of pleasure, holding her just on that precipice as he pulled his cock from his pants and lined himself up.

He pressed into her slowly, lifting her hips to meet his and bracing himself over her on the bed. She was trapped beneath him, nearly bent in half as his cock split her open once more. It felt even deeper than before, and she couldn’t hold back her high, breathy whines as he began to move. He moaned as he drove his cock into her harder and harder on each stroke.

“You feel amazing. So soft. So tight. You’re all mine. Just for me.”

“All yours,” the maiden repeated. “Just for you.”

“Oh, you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “She didn’t deserve you. She could never have made you feel like this. Come for me. Come on my cock.”

He reached between them to rub her clit, determined to watch her eyes flutter shut and the moans that tumbled from her lips as she came undone around him.

And it was spectacular. She was so precious. To think she had never known pleasure like this before. He was going to be everything for her. Her saviour. Her king.

She clung to him as she came, shuddering and gasping as he forced her through the blinding orgasm. He continued to fuck her, determined to find his own end as well, but he noticed she was barely responsive. Poor thing, probably passed out from the pleasure.

The Lord didn’t let that stop him as he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. He loved watching his cock sink into her, splitting her open and twitching inside of her. He came to the sight of it, filling her as deeply as possible and rocking his hips as she tightened around him once more. Even unconscious, he was able to make her feel good.

Finally satisfied with his claim, he pulled out and arranged the maiden to lay beside him. “You need your rest. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

-

Life with Lord Heisenberg was nothing like serving at Castle Dimitrescu. The Lord was crass and informal, just as quick tempered as his ‘sister’ but never directed at the maiden.

No. The maiden was given special privileges. She was his prized possession, swiped right out from under Alcina’s claws, and he loved to spoil her and dote on her.

He had never had a pet like her before. All of his own creations and gifts from Mother Miranda were mindless and bloodthirsty and horrific. But the maiden, she was beautiful and sweet. She was so devoted to him, her savior. He had freed her, given her everything, and now she lived to serve him.

Her new life was one of endless pleasure and indulgence. The Lord fucked her and filled her and marked her as his own. He loved to ruin her, to claim her. She was so precious, trapped in that castle and hidden away from the world. He wanted to show her every filthy experience she had missed.

She fit so perfectly around his cock, so warm and tight and responsive. He enjoyed her moans and gasps of pleasure just as much as he enjoyed finishing inside her.

He didn’t know he was capable of such softness. He was rough when he fucked her, sure to bite her and mark her. Bruising handprints blooming over her skin after he took her to bed. But he was also gentle with her at times. Praise and thanks and kisses to her hairline. There was a different kind of satisfaction to seeing her smile.

-

The maiden bowed her head as she offered Lord Heisenberg a glass of whiskey late one evening. He had been away at the factory for much of the previous days occupied by his work. The drink was a warm welcome. “Thank you, buttercup,” he pulled her into his lap. “I have something for you.”

He took a gulp from the glass before setting it aside and fishing around in his pockets.

“Aha! Here!” He procured two thick shining bands in his palms. They looked small in his grasp but were still a few inches in diameter.

The Lord grabbed the maiden’s hands. The metal rings levitated before closing around her wrists, fastening as though they were soldered together.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed, twisting her wrists this way and that to admire the jewelry. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“Now everyone will know who you belong to,” he trailed kisses from her temple to her jaw.

The maiden giggled. “I don’t think there was any doubt of that before.” She was constantly covered in his marks, in his come. He loved to claim her as his in every possible way.

He would fill her until his seed was dripping down her thighs, smeared over her chest and her lips. Make her come until the only thing she knew was his name. He had found all her limits and he knew just how to push past them.

And now he had his steel on her.

She nuzzled against his chest, overwhelmed by the gift. No one at that wretched castle had ever shown her such kindness. Her lips peppered the skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, hands wandering over his chest and arms. She was still so uncertain about her desires. Alcina had certainly done a good job of brainwashing her.

But he had his own conditioning to do. So he whispered encouragement as she slipped between his knees and unfastened his belt. She was flushed and uncoordinated as she pulled his cock free from his pants. “Thank you,” she whispered again before wrapping her lips around him.

She was a good cocksucker, an eager learner and quick to respond to him. She had very quickly grown addicted to him, and he lived for it. Every time he would return from the depths of the factory, she was there craving his attention and his touch.

Now she was even more desperate. He had neglected her in favor of his work, and he regretted it when he saw how uncertain she had become. He would have to train her to handle his long absences. He certainly couldn’t trust anyone to watch over her while he was gone. She was too precious, they would corrupt her. Still, he enjoyed how she couldn’t seem to get enough of him, how dependent she was.

Lord Heisenberg relaxed and sipped his whiskey as she stroked and sucked his cock. He felt so powerful with the maiden on her knees before him. It made him crave more.

After several minutes, when his cock was shining from her lips and she was glassy eyed with lust between his knees, he cradled her head in one of his hands and pulled her onto his cock as deep as she could go. She submitted willingly, moaning at the way his fingers dug into her scalp.

He fucked her face, rough and deep, admiring the way tears spilled over her cheeks and spit dripped down her chin. Her obedience only turned him on more, and he came with a groan, pulling out before he could spill everything down her throat.

She was a filthy mess, come and spit smeared over her swollen lips. She cleaned his cock and blinked up at him expectantly.

“That’s a good girl.” He smiled as she melted at his words. One of her own hands had slipped beneath her skirts and she rocked down against it with a breathy moan. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? Can you wait for me? I promise I’ll give you a treat soon.”

The maiden immediately did as she was told, pulling her slick fingertips from beneath her dress.

“What do you say we wash up and call it a night?” He pulled her to her feet, leading her upstairs to the washroom.

The maiden had been delighted to find that the enormous bath upstairs -- though still smaller that Mistress Dimitrescu’s -- had taps that would run the water directly into the tub. A device of the Lord’s own creation heated the water along the way so that it steamed as it splashed into the porcelain basin. The maiden undressed the Lord with enthusiastic reverence, running her hands over his skin as she pulled his shirt from his broad shoulders. He slipped into the steaming water and sighed.

The maiden slipped out of her own clothes and climbed in as well. She lathered soap in her hands and set to work washing them both, massaging the tension from his muscles with her skilled fingers. What more could he possibly ask for?

He could tell how needy she was as she rinsed them clean. Her breaths were quick and short, skin flushed all the way down her chest and up to her ears. If they hadn’t already been in the water he was sure she would be dripping with arousal.

The Lord was tempted to try out his his new trick, but he wanted to wait for the perfect time. So instead he teased the poor girl with his fingers. She slumped against him, begging and pleading as he gave her everything just shy of what she needed.

He pulled her from the tub, drying both of them just enough before dragging her to bed. Laying back and pulling her on top of him, he grabbed her hips and ground her pussy against his length. 

“Please,” she gasped. She looked so cute, begging for his cock. He lined himself up and pulled her all the way down until her hips met his. The shock of being filled so suddenly, stretched around him, made her scream.

He lifted her easily, using her like a doll for his pleasure. She slumped forward over his chest as he moved her hips however he liked. Her broken gasps and moans of pleasure were like music to his ears. He wanted to break her, to see her totally undone by his hand.

She came around his cock twice before he finally pulled her all the way onto him and pumped her full. Even though his body was exhausted from his orgasm, he wasn’t yet sated. Some strange desire still pulled at him. He had already gifted her with the bracelets he had yet to use, but maybe there were other toys to be made in his workshop.

She would be perfect for him.

OH ANTONI 🥺🥺🥺 my poor baby. I hope he will find it within himself to come clean to Jake or SOMEONE about this :((((

(((ALSO CANT WAIT FOR MORR))))

One Two Three Four Five Six

CW: Wound cleaning, burns, touch aversion, aftermath of torture, BBU, conditioned fucky headspace

"Lift your chin for me," she commands, and he doesn't really remember that he could choose not to obey.

Antoni dutifully shifts, his eyes moving to roam over a line of framed photographs along the wall behind her. A wedding photo, faded with time, a much, much younger version of the woman currently dabbing a cotton ball dipped in something cold and stinging to the fresh burn on his throat with a man he's never seen. The two of them are smiling, holding hands, looking right into the camera.

Bright white wedding dress turned cream with yellowing paper, with time, covered in lace. Powder-blue tuxedo. Brilliant smiles.

She touches the cotton ball to his skin and he hisses, hands tightening where they grip the edges of the chair he's sitting on. The sting rockets through him, only a pale echo of the original pain, but it's enough.

It's enough.

Fuck, that's hot.

He catches the sob before it can leave his throat, forces the burn behind his eyes to stay there and not turn into tears. He will not cry over this again.

Not now.

"There we go, just a bit more," She says, her voice gruffly compassionate. She presses a small rounded bandage against his throat, her fingertips are warm against his neck.

His skin crawls at even this slight, indirect touch, but he doesn't protest.

He wouldn't dare.

"All done. That's not s'bad, I think with a good bandaging it won't scar half so bad as all its little friends down south," She mutters, more to herself than him, really.

Where her fingers touch, he feels the echoes of other hands around his throat. Thicker fingers, heavy with rings. Smiling down at him.

Beg for me, love.

"Please-" It's automatic. He's drifting, in and out of this old kitchen that still looks like it must have looked thirty years ago, when the man in the wedding photo would still be here maybe cooking or cleaning or chatting up a storm to anyone who popped by for a visit.

"Hm? You say something, sweetheart?" Miss Ruth looks at him, and those dark eyes are shrewd. They know more than anyone is supposed to, they know things Nat hasn't told her. Hasn't had to.

"Ah, no," He whispers. "Just. I am very tired."

"No doubt. I'll finish these up and you can get back to your own bed and no doubt you'll be glad to get there." She looks him over, and his eyes dance to hers and away again. Back to the photos.

He sees a family photo, the two people from before and a daughter and son. Everyone is smiling, looking carefully just off to the side. They wear matching outfits.

"Get a look at 'em?"

There's a 35th wedding anniversary picture with a big banner behind the happy couple. The two people, much older, stand in front a cake nearly as tall as they are, surrounded by others. Everyone in the photo smiles in sort of the same way.

The next photo is a birthday, he thinks. There's a boy and a young baby in the photo, and the man from wedding and anniversary photo isn't there. Miss Ruth, holding her grandbaby he thinks, is wearing all black. The photo was taken in a church, and there's a spray of white lilies just visible at the edge of the picture.

Another, with Jaden, who Chris plays basketball with. The kid who more or less effortlessly opened his life for Chris when Chris badly needed a friend his own age, or closer to it, to remember what being a kid was like.

He is reading, in images, the story of this woman's adult life. Marriage, and death, and birth. Children. Life going on.

A life he won't have, that he gave up every possibility of having, because of... of whatever is inside him that Mr. Davies knew about, that the people who just hurt him could see in him even though he cannot see it himself.

He must look like someone who deserves to be hurt.

"Young man." She taps on the back of his hand and he flinches, blinking at her, struggling to pull himself out of his reverie. Her words filter through his mind, shift into the language all his thoughts are moving in, come back out in hers. He swallows, feeling a lump in his throat that refuses to move.

"I'm... sorry," He says softly, with difficulty. "I did not hear."

"I can tell. I asked did you get a good look at whoever did this to you." Her eyes roam over his chest, his stomach. The circle of new burns, placed so carefully compared to the haphazard placement Mr. Davies had favored, no pattern at all. "Looks like they took their damn time, anyway, to get you so much."

"N-... no." Antoni's eyebrows furrow, and he tries to think, but all he can remember is their hands holding the lit cigarettes, the quiet one touching his face, ruffling his hair. He can't... he can't remember their faces at all. "I am sorry."

You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?

"Hm." If she's disappointed in him, nothing changes about her expression, still held in a kind of skeptical compassion as she wets a new cotton ball in liquid from a small frosted plastic bottle and touches it to each burn, one by one, in the circle. It's like a ritual, the sting, washing away a bit of sin with each hint of pain. He clothes his eyes and breathes carefully through it.

When he is done, each circle covered with a bandage that is shades darker than his skin, she steps back to look him over, critically. She steps away and he takes in deep breaths free of her air, the powdery scent of her. He breathes in her absence, no one nearby.

She returns with a washcloth and he takes it, scrubs at his face until his cheeks are red but clean, until you can't tell anymore that he cried while they burned him.

Good boy.

"You can stay here," She says, voice low now. "Sleep it off for a while. I've got a guest room."

"No. No, I will go home. Thank you. I will... I want to go home." He looks out the kitchen window right at Nat's house next door. No lights are on... yet. But there isn't much time before they will be.

"Fair enough. You plan to tell 'em what happened to you?"

He looks back at her, searches for the judgement, finds none.

"No," He says. Confesses, really, his sin. "I will not."

I will lie to them.

"That's your choice to make, I suppose." She lays a hand on his arm. He doesn't pull away from her. He wants to unzip himself from his skin and step out of it, let them all have what they seem to want to touch so much.

Instead, he holds himself perfectly still, until she pats him a few times and steps away again.

"I've done what I can do. You come back over here tomorrow or the day after and we'll look 'em over again and make sure they're healing up nice, you got me?"

"Yes," He says. He is good. He can be good.

"Right. Off you go, then, before your people wake up and you get to come up with a story about why you're in an old widow's house at 4:30 in the morning, hm? You're pretty enough, but you're no Wilbur." She laughs to herself, a dry and crackly sound, and he thinks that her laugh was the sort that could set a whole crowd to laughing, when she was young.

It still is.

The corners of his mouth twitch in an answering smile.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and pushes himself off the edge, standing up again. No one has seen his scars, no one but this old neighbor woman who looks at them like they are simply part of living, not something to be pitied. "I go. S-... thank you."

"Paugh." She scoffs, waves a hand in dismissal. "Go on, now. You've thrown off my morning coffee time. Tell your young man that Jaden will be over this afternoon."

She all but shoos him out the door, and the air is clear and clean and quiet. The only dirty thing is Antoni himself, smudged and mussed, still feeling in his scalp the prickles of Quiet One's hands, still feeling on his arms the sharp pressure of the shirt tied around his wrists.

Still aware of every single burn under the slight pull of the bandages pressed over them, the gentle sting that feels like a return to how he was always meant to be.

Even the walk from one yard to another feels like too much. Antoni's eyes move over the empty darkened windows of the houses all around him. How obvious he must be, if three people saw him in the darkness and knew him for a pet pretending to be human.

He shouldn't have left, shouldn't have gone on those walks. He'd left himself open and vulnerable, hadn't he? His scars are deeper than skin, and they must shine like the streetlights to anyone who knows what to look for.

Antoni stops at the porch, where he carefully lifts a loose bit of board from the porch railing, finds the small box hidden inside. The slightest scrape of metal on metal as he pulls off the lid makes him freeze, but no one is awake to hear it. He takes the contents of the box, moves it quickly back to its hiding place, replaces the board.

Like nothing ever happened.

Everything can be made as good as new, as long as it isn't him.

He slips inside the safehouse, where everything is still quiet, in the silent inhale that comes before the exhalation of morning. The clock in the kitchen reads 4:45, fifteen minutes until Jake's alarm will go off, until he - and likely Chris - will stir.

Fifteen minutes for Antoni get upstairs and look so deeply asleep that no one will realize he was ever gone.

No time to shower.

He will have to sleep with the grime of their hands still ground deep into every single pore. He will sleep with Deep Voice's we know what you are in his ears, with Quiet One's fingers tangled in his hair, running over his skin. He will sleep with Lookout's eyes locked on his chest as he presses the cigarette in.

Antoni hasn't worn a collar in years now, but he buckles it on, just one notch too tight like Mr. Davies would have, and climbs under the covers, pulling them over his head.

He breathes in as deep as he can, to feel the constriction. Breathes out, and runs his hand up over his chest, over the bandages that cover his burns.

They knew what he was.

Everyone always will.

Good boy.

The ashtray falls asleep humming a lullaby, afraid that if he pulls the blankets back down he will see bars on the windows.

the witcher 3: wild hunt starters

including quotes from the dlcs hearts of stone & blood and wine

❝  you were always an unruly child. i adored that about you.  ❞ ❝  mmm. yes. of course. the excuse you resort to when you’d rather not talk about something.  ❞ ❝  how many have you killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  you know who i am. and why i’m here.  ❞ ❝  you're a madman and always have been. a cruel, cold-blooded killer.  ❞ ❝  a man should frame his wishes carefully. it forestalls disappointment.  ❞ ❝  no argument. you knew what you were signing up for.  ❞ ❝  maybe once, in a different time...i’d have helped.  ❞ ❝  don’t train alone, it only embeds your errors.  ❞ ❝  wanna get drunk off my ass. and it’s gotta be on cheap wine.  ❞ ❝  you’re a heartless bastard.  ❞ ❝  try to trick me anyway, anyhow, you won’t go anywhere, you know that. ‘cause i’ll take your head off right where it meets your neck.  ❞ ❝  sorry. i don’t want to talk about it. not now, at least.  ❞ ❝  we are more like a family.   we support each other and help each other survive tough moments.  ❞ ❝  so how’s it feel to be the village witch?  ❞ ❝  realize, please, that you were made for great things.  ❞ ❝  folks say a curse has fallen on that place, a dark power brought down by the bestiality of the murders it beheld.  ❞ ❝  so, now you’ve threatened me and all...are you in or are you not?  ❞ ❝  i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real...  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  it’s always been about you. only you.  ❞ ❝  i remember finding your sense of humor both groan-worthy...and somehow endearing.  ❞ ❝  kings die, realms fall, but magic endures.  ❞ ❝  i detest banquets. vacuous conversation, food portions fit for a mouse, drinks that taste like piss...  ❞ ❝  despite what you’ve heard, i don’t lunge at every monster i see, sword in hand.  ❞ ❝  each day’s more dangerous than the last.  ❞ ❝  it’s folks like you that restore my faith in humankind.  ❞ ❝  my power lies in possessing knowledge, not sharing it.  ❞ ❝  the rotten smell brings back childhood memories.  ❞ ❝  awfully noble of you, showing so much concern for the needy.  ❞ ❝  no need to thank me. always glad to save your ass. you’re welcome.  ❞ ❝  i may be inhumanely beautiful, but i don’t have super human senses.  ❞ ❝  anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how.  ❞ ❝  we’ve done the hardest part. only got the pleasant bits now.  ❞ ❝  there are few causes worth saving. even fewer men.  ❞ ❝  don’t treat me like a child.  ❞ ❝  there’s strange men lurking outside the house. watching me.  ❞ ❝  you must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted.    for there are consequences.  ❞ ❝  shall i be free of the suffering? the sadness?  ❞ ❝  i wish to gaze into those eyes, eyes the devil would be proud to have.  ❞ ❝  you were born with a great gift. and only you can decide how to use it.  ❞ ❝  any other words of wisdom? or can we go?  ❞ ❝  what i need is an ally. and something tells me i shall find none better than you.  ❞ ❝  i can see no row can occur here without your participation.  ❞ ❝  i and what concerns me have not been a concern of yours for some time now.  ❞ ❝  if you’d not arrived in time, things might have ended considerably worse.  ❞ ❝  if they can bleed, they can die.  ❞ ❝  a man must display some madness from time to time --- it helps him feel alive.  ❞ ❝  i was deeply troubled. you’ve no idea.  ❞ ❝  done that so many times, but...it felt like our first kiss to me.  ❞ ❝  don’t need to play tough on me.  ❞ ❝  i've lost too many mates already. i won’t risk it, i can't.  ❞ ❝  there’s just not enough of us. it’ll be a hard fight.  ❞ ❝  in lonely woods, screams carry long.  ❞ ❝  things used to be simpler.    monsters were bad, humans good.   now, everything’s all confused.  ❞ ❝  as for your missteps --- i don't rightly see why i shouldn't laugh if they're amusing..  ❞ ❝  i’ve no gold to offer you in reward...but i shall be ever so grateful.  ❞ ❝  if you’re scared, turn back. i’m gonna go on.  ❞ ❝  if anything happens, i’ll defend you.  ❞ ❝  once you say "i love you," a kiss has to taste differently.  ❞ ❝  maybe we should sit? you look a bit dazed...  ❞ ❝  drink it off, sleep it off, whatever it takes...just get yourself together and think things        through.  ❞ ❝  i shall join later, if it’s no trouble. i don’t yet feel strong enough to venture out.  ❞ ❝  awake at last. you writhed like a squirrel caught in a snare.  ❞ ❝  again you plan without even asking what i think!  ❞ ❝  come to see how i’m feelin'? thanks, not bad.  ❞ ❝  i remember that day quite well...there was a light drizzle, yet the cold tore right through you.  ❞ ❝  you gotta keep your eyes peeled wide open. someone’s taken an interest in your work.  ❞ ❝  oof...for a minute, i actually thought we were doomed.  ❞ ❝  you shouldn’t worry yourself --- it tarnishes your beauty.  ❞ ❝  i’d even embrace you...were you not covered in blood.  ❞ ❝  guess i could’ve been someone worse...just a shame i had no choice.  ❞ ❝  facts interest me. not fairytales.  ❞ ❝  hm, odd smell. blend of alcohol, blood and monster stench.  ❞ ❝  i’m old and i am wealthy. i may say what i please.  ❞ ❝  now, be so kind and leave me to my thoughts.  ❞ ❝  in your shoes i’d pack it up and go hide somewhere far away.  ❞ ❝  forgive me, but that's the blatherin' of someone who clearly can't snap out of it after a tragic loss.  ❞ ❝  that all you gotta say? i saved your life.  ❞ ❝  i swear on all that is holy: we shall be together forever.  ❞ ❝  think of me as part of the decor.  ❞ ❝  anyone who’s bold enough to fight is already a hero.  ❞ ❝  if this is a trap of some sort...  ❞ ❝  you can count on me, you know? always.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how much it means...to have someone you can rely on in this fucking city.  ❞ ❝  i know you. you have no heart.  ❞ ❝  no room for friendship in this business.  ❞ ❝  evil is evil. lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. the degree is arbitrary, the definitions blurred.  ❞ ❝  hands off, or i'll cut them off.  ❞ ❝  i’ll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams, i feel it’s full of cobwebs.  ❞ ❝  on your way? or will you stay longer? it’s far safer with you around...  ❞ ❝  really sad story, but something’s not right. got a feeling you’re not telling me everything.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit, there’s something about you. you’re...different.  ❞ ❝  with each arrow i shoot, i think of my dad. he’d be proud, i think.  ❞ ❝  i merely know when to indulge my pride, and when to swallow it.  ❞ ❝  you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  these’re dark, grim times. no room for knights pure of heart or happily-ever-afters.  ❞ ❝  a life without liquor’s like loving without licking.  ❞ ❝  my certainty i walk the right path grows strong as iron, firm as steel.  ❞ ❝  few make me feel awkward, but in your presence, i feel anxiety, discomfort.  ❞ ❝  some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows.  ❞ ❝  some men cannot admit defeat. some keep fighting from beyond the grave.  ❞ ❝  stare into their eyes, feast on their terror. then go in for the kill.  ❞ ❝  forget not that you are a person right and honorable, devoted to doing good.  ❞ ❝  ash shall fertilize the soil. by spring, the valley shall bloom once more.  ❞ ❝  there’s lots of wraiths here. i hear them whispering every night.  ❞ ❝  no one has the courage to face this threat! yet we must kill them, or sooner or later we will all die.  ❞ ❝  you are a step away from losing your head. speak the truth and you might yet keep it.  ❞ ❝  you carry within you the weight of a terrible tragedy. you are a good person, but lost. which is why you come across as grim.  ❞ ❝  if i understand you correctly, you would rather help a monster than kill it?  ❞ ❝  discouraged after a mere eight attempts?  ❞ ❝  easier to pat someone on the back and hope things will work out than it is to face the truth.  ❞ ❝  know that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks?  ❞ ❝  my, you’ve grown beautiful.  ❞ ❝  my swords a promise --- if i reach for it, heads will roll.  ❞ ❝  one condition: no one dies. that clear?  ❞ ❝  patience happens to be my weakness. so dispense with the dramatic pauses and talk.  ❞ ❝  you proved today you can take care of yourself.  ❞ ❝  you under the delusion you’ll complete your tasks, live happily ever after?  ❞ ❝  i will not sit and twiddle my thumbs. i'm sick of waiting, sick of hiding!  ❞ ❝  glad you know who i am. haven’t introduced yourself, though.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen a great deal --- cruelty, cynicism, greed.  ❞ ❝  you tempt fate, because at heart you are unhappy.  ❞ ❝  we had our chance, but...let it go.  ❞ ❝  come now, you didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you?  ❞ ❝  promise me one thing --- you’ll stop risking your life for others.  ❞ ❝  instead of dwelling on the future, i’d rather live in the moment.  ❞ ❝  i adore love stories. especially the ones that end happily ever after.  ❞ ❝  we are drops of rain that together make a ferocious storm.  ❞ ❝  the path to freedom is paved in blood, not ink.  ❞ ❝  we’ll get our happy ending. one day.  ❞ ❝  i’ll never forget what you did for me...and what we had together.  ❞ ❝  don’t meddle in other people’s lives.  ❞ ❝  i don’t get attached to places. just people.  ❞ ❝  it’s dangerous, there are risks involved. understand that, don’t you?  ❞ ❝  and here i hoped someone would finally take pity on me.  ❞ ❝  seen a lot of dead in my time, but that must’ve been hard.  ❞ ❝  air is strange...like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day...  ❞ ❝  wouldn’t carry a sword if i didn’t know how to use it.  ❞ ❝  take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so...  ❞ ❝  i was attacked --- had to defend myself.  ❞ ❝  guards have never stopped me, you know that.  ❞ ❝  treating the ill and wounded...it’s my calling.  ❞ ❝  you think it’s enchanted?  ❞ ❝  there are times when a woman should simply not explain her decision.  ❞ ❝  won’t find too many comforts, but try to feel at home.  ❞ ❝  i was looking for you...sometimes i thought you were just a step away. other times, i felt like i was going around in circles.  ❞ ❝  i’ll remember you. always with a smile.  ❞ ❝  i’d rather you not make anymore trouble --- for yourself, or us both.  ❞ ❝  got the stench of corpes on you.  ❞ ❝  you stood to gain --- that is why you saved me.  ❞ ❝  sages invariably have hidden agendas. altruism is simply not part of their constitution.  ❞ ❝  the gods have abandoned us. the mighty of this earth care not for our fate.  ❞ ❝  is that admiration i hear in your voice?  ❞ ❝  i started off heading in the opposite direction, but then turned around.  ❞ ❝  i’m fed up. i won’t have others deciding for me behind my back.  ❞ ❝  where’d you get this idea? what’s gotten into you?  ❞ ❝  i don't expect you to commit now. think it over, what you've heard, what you feel.  ❞ ❝  head torn clear off...takes incredible strength.  ❞ ❝  desperate fathers have been known to do a lot to find their daughters.  ❞ ❝  you cannot kill me. you know this...  ❞ ❝  "i give you my heart”? what kind of spell is that?  ❞ ❝  i’d go anywhere with you.  ❞ ❝  why? because i am a woman? in a frock, rather than plate? i can take care of myself, i assure you.  ❞ ❝  everything we discussed here, hope you’ll keep it to yourself. counting on it, in fact.  ❞ ❝  trusted you once. won’t make that mistake again.  ❞ ❝  shut up. i’ve heard enough of your bullshit. draw your weapon, let’s get this over with.  ❞ ❝  exaggerating for effect, right?  ❞ ❝  well, well...when cornered, you can bite.  ❞ ❝  you cannot win...even if you kill me.  ❞ ❝  you know i’m good at accomplishing the impossible.  ❞ ❝  it’s nothing, really. you’d have done the same for me.  ❞ ❝  you are not ready. you do not control your powers.  ❞ ❝  you’re a tool in their hands, even if you don’t see it.  ❞ ❝  i’d do anything for you, i would. you know that well.  ❞ ❝  this is a land where the fantastic is normal, and the impossible occurs daily...  ❞ ❝  know when a legend becomes a prophecy? when it gain believers.  ❞ ❝  i thought you’d become a stranger to me. that i’d look at you and not feel a thing. but it’s not like that at all. nothing’s changed.  ❞ ❝  to be honest, i just wanted to go on a walk with you.  ❞ ❝  what i really want is to be with you, to...to be together and...  ❞ ❝  this is not the kind of offer one refuses.  ❞ ❝  despair devours you like maggots devour a corpse.  ❞ ❝  before long every soul will kneel before you.  ❞ ❝  i run into dilemmas all the time. situations where it's hard to judge, hard to know what's right, make a decision. this is not one of them. you disgust me. and deserve to die.  ❞ ❝  you know me. i’m rare to praise, but when i do, it’s sincere.  ❞ ❝  i'm not a thug for hire.  ❞ ❝  i like being on adventures, sleeping under the stars, waking up with dew on my face.  ❞ ❝  the dream's within reach now. i’m not about to let it go.  ❞ ❝  unlike you, killing gives me no pleasure.  ❞ ❝  can't speak for the world you inhabit, but in mine, nothing is ever black and white.  ❞ ❝  you cannot possibly imagine how much i detest this place.  ❞ ❝  stones you’ve got. but i didn’t think you’d have the stomach for a massacre.  ❞ ❝  the dead man --- looked like a monster attacked him recently.  ❞ ❝  finish all your business before you die. bid loved ones farewell. write your will. apologize to those you’ve wronged. otherwise, you’ll never truly leave this world.  ❞ ❝  i've had nothing but nightmares lately. pretty horrible.  ❞ ❝  i was wandering through the forest, breathing deep the air, and then i heard a strange sound, unsettling.  ❞ ❝  had a few nice dreams. for example, in one we sat around a fire, drinking good wine, and all around people danced and laughed.  ❞ ❝  they’re all dead! mountains of corpses. yet here i stand alone. all alone.  ❞ ❝  this isn’t a game. men have died.  ❞ ❝  if you wanna listen, listen, if not --- i'd rather you spared me your wit and throw me out now.  ❞ ❝  you fed me, cared for me, had my wounds looked after. we're even now.  ❞ ❝  you’ll return, you shall. our fates are bound.  ❞ ❝  i’ve nothing left. not a fucking thing.  ❞ ❝  i don’t question your abilities. i simply don’t trust you.  ❞ ❝  what foolish things men sometimes do.  ❞ ❝  dare harm me, and against you will rise all the powers of nature.  ❞ ❝  did you destroy the evil powers? have you brought peace to my domain?  ❞ ❝  well, perhaps i shall tell you about it one day. one day, but not today..  ❞ ❝  times like these, you never know what tomorrow will bring.  ❞ ❝  you worry too much. what will be, will be.  ❞ ❝  have you gone completely mad? we must leave here at once!  ❞ ❝  time eats away at memories, distorts them. sometimes we only remember the good... sometimes only the bad.  ❞ ❝  you don’t need magic to strip men of their humanity. i’ve seen plenty of examples.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose at all.  ❞ ❝  see what i’ve got on my back? wolves fear it. kings do, too.  ❞ ❝  i missed those awkward compliments of yours.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i think it’s all too lovely to be true…that something’s bound to happen, another war or some other horror.  ❞ ❝  took you a while. did you run into trouble?  ❞ ❝  i just travel a lot. and i don't always happen upon such good and civil company.  ❞ ❝  what can you know about saving the world, silly?  ❞ ❝  done my share of fighting. wouldn't carry a sword if i didn't know to use it.  ❞ ❝  all right, perhaps i wasn’t completely honest.  ❞ ❝  ever thought this day would come? me and you...peace and quiet...bees buzzing, birds chirping.  ❞ ❝  i detect a shadow of impatience in your face.  ❞ ❝  took me a long time to find you. wasn't an easy road to travel.  ❞ ❝  wipe that frown off your face, or i might think you don’t like me anymore.  ❞ ❝  always believed attack was the best defense.  ❞ ❝  once it’s all over, if we survive ... i wish to leave, go far away.   and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  naturally, you suspect me of the worst. i don’t deserve that.  ❞ ❝  we can fight another time, in another place, where the walls have no ears.  ❞ ❝  once i was free...i shall be free once more.  ❞ ❝  believe me...a tavern, mulled wine, our boots drying by the fire --- i’d like nothing better.  ❞ ❝  prove it. kiss me.  ❞ ❝  the prophecies do not lie...you cannot survive this struggle.  ❞ ❝  i know you better than you think.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  what’s happened? it’s so quiet, all of a sudden.  ❞ ❝  thank you, for coming with me.  ❞ ❝  i cannot do everything for you. use your head.  ❞ ❝  i'm angry and tired. had to kill a lot of people along the way.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’d be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  i sense your pain. i see your fear.  ❞ ❝  how’s this for an answer: kiss my ass.  ❞ ❝  how many have you already killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  i'm quite alive and extraordinarily well. better than i've ever been in this rotten life of mine.  ❞ ❝  i like it when you smile. come here. everything will be all right.  ❞ ❝  ugh. don’t fall in love with me.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like you. in fact, i feel like slapping you.  ❞ ❝  i'm too old to play the blushing bride...unless you ask nicely.  ❞ ❝  that bit of my life --- forgotten it already.  ❞ ❝  the world doesn’t need a hero. it needs a professional.  ❞ ❝  next time you wonder why i’m so bitter...well, there's your answer.  ❞ ❝  nothing wrong with having a drink in good company.  ❞ ❝  i want you behind those rocks. and keep your mouth shut.  ❞ ❝  nice of you to worry...but i've made my decision, and i won't change it.  ❞ ❝  this is my story, not yours. you must let me finish telling it.  ❞ ❝  after all that toil, i believe we deserve a bit of a rest.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  we’ve all some stain on our conscience.  ❞ ❝  leaving the castle walls means certain death.  ❞ ❝  right good jest. had us a laugh. now fuck off.  ❞ ❝  i’ve heard about you. you bring trouble, or thus far have, always.  ❞ ❝  ah, you’ve struck a raw nerve.    memories of a time long past to which i’d rather not return now.  ❞ ❝  we meet again. and it seems you need my help. again.  ❞ ❝  got a relative i can talk to? someone - how do i say this - a smidgen less irritating?  ❞ ❝  miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. hit it, you owe me twenty.  ❞ ❝  oh. serious talk coming.  ❞ ❝  i feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow.  ❞ ❝  romantic? thought we came here as friends.  ❞ ❝  you’re hiding something. and that’s one thing i can’t stand.  ❞ ❝  tell me, how do you do it? always manage to pull yourself together, focus, no matter what’s happening?  ❞ ❝  i go wherever i please, whenever i please.  ❞ ❝  uh oh. i know that look.  ❞ ❝  sounds tempting. so tempting i don’t think i can refuse.  ❞ ❝  so, what do you say to a moonlight ride on horseback...and dinner?  ❞ ❝  perhaps...perhaps you’d stay just a bit longer?  ❞ ❝  how are you feeling? sleep well?  ❞ ❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...  simply shouldn’t have.  ❞

❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...i simply shouldn’t have --- not during our romantic dinner.  ❞ ❝  got it. a bit of blackmail --- just your style.  ❞ ❝  it’s the crack of dawn. where do you wanna go?  ❞ ❝  shut up before you wake someone. last thing we need is a crowd.  ❞ ❝  watch what you say. the trees have ears.  ❞ ❝  no bow at hand, no spear. my sword was all i had.  ❞ ❝  never expected you’d take such an interest in my private life.  ❞ ❝  i’m special. always was the rare beauty.  ❞ ❝  damn. been ages since we last saw each other.  ❞ ❝  some charming orchards nearby. in bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  man spends his whole life learning.  ❞ ❝  if only i was as skilled with my words as i am with my blade.  ❞ ❝  i wished to know what was going on in that head of yours. i thought perhaps i could help.  ❞ ❝  i can tell something’s bothering you.  ❞ ❝  dangerous times. each thinks five times before sticking their neck out.   and i can’t blame them.  ❞ ❝  now i care not in the slightest how you think or feel.  ❞ ❝  i no longer know if i still hate you.  ❞ ❝  i see how you look at me, and i see you wither.  ❞ ❝  one last bit of advice --- find a new tavern. everyone here knows you.  ❞ ❝  you won. no point bothering with ‘what ifs’.  ❞ ❝  it’s time i took fate into my own hands. lived life anew...and truly, this time.  ❞ ❝  ahh, 'cause you thought you'd killed me that time. surprise, sur-fucking-prise.  ❞ ❝  who...who’s that? gods, i’m hallucinating.  ❞ ❝  it’s no exaggeration to say i’ve never met a warrior like you in my life. you’re lithe as an eel and strong as a bear.  ❞ ❝  i’ve a heart again, yet all it feels is grief, sadness and defeat. my life is a ruin.  ❞ ❝  sought only to protect myself. in doing so, i put you in harm’s way. forgive me.  ❞ ❝  there’s a charming grove nearby where  kisses  taste  sweeter than anywhere else in the world.  ❞ ❝  you’ve handled tougher situations. you’ll figure this one out.  ❞ ❝  who you are and why you’ve come matter little. for you’ll not leave this place alive.  ❞ ❝  i’m not panicking. just trying to be realistic.  ❞ ❝  hahahahaha...i can’t believe you fell for that!  ❞ ❝  i was actually going to recite an anthem praising your glory, but if you’re not in the mood...  ❞ ❝  lying didn’t always come so easily to you.  ❞ ❝  everyone wants to rule. i can do that better than any monarch.  ❞ ❝  tell me what you want already, and make it quick.  ❞ ❝  what a mess we made of it all...if i’d only known then how it would end...  ❞ ❝  seems a faded dream now, but there were a time where i was happy.  ❞ ❝  why’d you leave me? you claimed you loved me.  ❞ ❝  never liked boats. not one bit.  ❞ ❝  you must be mad. i’ve no intention to make things easier for you.  ❞ ❝  i don’t wish to look at your face any longer than i must.  ❞ ❝  please, no. i can’t stand spells.  ❞ ❝  we agreed not to keep any secrets from one another. we promised.  ❞ ❝  that i like! a man who boldly dares, damn the risks!  ❞ ❝  i thought you bowed before no man.  ❞ ❝  smile a bit wider. ...you were meant to smile, not bare your teeth.  ❞ ❝  is that blood? have you hurt yourself?  ❞ ❝  no reason to trouble the guards. i’ll go willingly.  ❞ ❝  look at me. promise you’ll stay out of it.  ❞ ❝  the minute we’re in trouble, you make me responsible for getting us out.  ❞ ❝  they say they don’t fear the wrath of the gods. and you, do you fear it?  ❞ ❝  i’ll let that pass. i know grief eats at your heart.  ❞ ❝  we all lie sometimes. but lying to yourself is running away, whereas there’s really nowhere to run.  ❞ ❝  don’t need your sympathy, just your help.  ❞ ❝  your loss -- it must hurt, bad. but there wasn't anything we could do.  ❞ ❝  i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  i trust you have an explanation for this. a very good one.  ❞ ❝  lot of bitterness in you.  ❞ ❝  i assure you, you’re excellent at covering your tracks --- though not terribly subtle. but i’m even better at uncovering them.  ❞ ❝  glad to see you happy...but i don’t think what we did was right.  ❞ ❝  i look at you, and...and feel like i am exactly where i am supposed to be. at long last.  ❞ ❝  i’m no coward. i'll not run this time.  ❞ ❝  yes, i know you’ve trained with swords. but you’re still shit with them.  ❞ ❝  how many innocents have you cut down?  ❞ ❝  problem is, you’re not ordinary. you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  not too late to surrender.  ❞ ❝  men turn honest when they feel a blade at their throat.  ❞ ❝  i'm not gonna drink. why dull my senses when i’m in such pleasant company?  ❞ ❝  it’s bound to come in handy, and each time it does, you’ll think of me.  ❞ ❝  lie still or you will bleed to death.  ❞ ❝  your life is yours, exclusively. you choose who you are.  ❞ ❝  for a minute there, was almost sure you’d leave me to die.  ❞ ❝  there is never a second opportunity to make a first impression.  ❞ ❝  it’s all because of that secretiveness of yours.  ❞ ❝  plead the gods spare us, for without their favor we shall most certainly perish.  ❞ ❝  i must say -- seen a lot, but nothing like this, never.  ❞ ❝  you don’t look like you can get home on your own. i’ll walk you.  ❞ ❝  all’s in the past, never to be restored.  ❞ ❝  you know full well i never hold a grudge. i forgive you.  ❞ ❝  the good gods sent you to me.  ❞ ❝  and the guilt, the responsibility of all this, lies with me.  ❞ ❝  you’ve only been here five minutes, and you’ve already managed to offend me twice.  ❞ ❝  you will certainly fetch me a higher bounty alive.  ❞ ❝  what's wrong with my beard? always thought it added to my dignity.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to die today, i wish to look smashing for the occasion.  ❞ ❝  i was stupid. stupidity costs a lot.  ❞ ❝  even your humblest requests seem like threats.  ❞ ❝  your motives do not interest me. only results.  ❞ ❝  and you laughed, oh, how sweetly, how brightly you laughed!  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how it is. to see someone you love die. because of you, for you.  ❞ ❝  to have a scapegoat --- that’s the key.  ❞ ❝  no need to fear me.  ❞ ❝  sorry, but -- your life story? just not interested.  ❞ ❝  with you...it was love at first sight.  ❞ ❝  gotta understand. you don’t betray people like me.  ❞ ❝  i struggled long to find a place where i’d feel safe, needed. until i finally arrived here.  ❞ ❝  just don’t faint on me.  ❞ ❝  could never be there for you everyday. but i’m happy to see you always. and today, i’m all yours.  ❞ ❝  what others think...your image...that’s all you care about.  ❞ ❝  in these foul times one must be wary, even of their friends.  ❞ ❝  come on, don’t get angry - it’s not good for you..  ❞ ❝  so, apart from the sword play, you know potions and all that?  ❞ ❝  i actually envy your sense of wonder --- common in children, and morons.  ❞ ❝  a lot of misfortune for a small village.  ❞ ❝  who are you? do you seek to hurt me as well?  ❞ ❝  the hand that feeds can also strike its wayward wards.  ❞ ❝  shh. eat now. we’ll speak once you’ve rested.  ❞ ❝  brother has turned against brother, the land is soaked in blood. evil reigns stronger than ever before.  ❞ ❝  good looking and clever. where’ve you been hiding?  ❞ ❝  doesn’t bother you, having monsters for neighbours?  ❞ ❝  stay here --- no matter what happens.  ❞ ❝  i never told you this, but i’ve always felt it: i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen to me this once -- don't take matters into your own hands.  ❞ ❝  love these moments. the air before a battle -- nothing smells as sweet.  ❞ ❝  they tried to get in through the main gate. i’m afraid they could succeed next time.  ❞ ❝  too many claim you’re evil.  ❞ ❝  why are you so eager to help strangers? sit your ass down or there’ll be misfortune.  ❞ ❝  you'd never have managed without me, would you? come, now, admit it.  ❞ ❝  for those who remain, death should never take precedence over life.  ❞ ❝  thanks for coming. thanks for risking your life for me.  ❞ ❝  don’t force me to speak of it. no more, please.  ❞ ❝  when doubt plagues your mind, follow your instincts. should they steer you wrong and land you in muck, you'll land at peace with yourself. and that's most important.  ❞ ❝   just know that i know you're here. one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable...i'll be the first to learn it.  ❞ ❝  i do not know you. i’ve done you no harm.  ❞ ❝  try not to panic...just doesn’t suit you.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’ll be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  had i known what would happen here, i'd never have come.  ❞ ❝  i can say i’ve seen it all now.  ❞ ❝  these scars have long yearned for your tender caress.  ❞ ❝  i don’t fall victim to curses. i cast them.  ❞ ❝  come outside. we can hold hands and stare at the sky.  ❞ ❝  we’ll work well together --- i can see that already.  ❞ ❝  from the first moment i set eyes upon you that fateful evening, my heart has only beaten for you.  ❞ ❝  i trust you as much as you trust me --- not at all.  ❞ ❝  you’ve gone all red in the face just for talking about it.  ❞ ❝  wake up. it’s just a dream. wake up!  ❞ ❝  i still don’t believe everything that happened.  ❞ ❝  i never miss twice.  ❞ ❝  bit too old to believe in bedtime stories, aren’t you?  ❞ ❝  you humans have...unusual tastes.  ❞ ❝  didn’t think it worthwhile to tell me, warn me of your plans?  ❞ ❝  i think you will not attack one unarmed.  ❞ ❝  the deeper i get into this, the more i gotta wonder...why’re you even helping me?  ❞ ❝  to live in peace, we first must kill.  ❞ ❝  at times fate muddles our path, and life turns toilsome, hard to bear.  ❞ ❝  i fight for whoever’s paying the best. or whoever’s easier to rob.  ❞ ❝  do not let my beauty distract your aim.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen what is to come, i know destruction approaches.  ❞ ❝  the war awoke an ancient power. an evil one that feeds on bloodshed.  ❞ ❝  guess you’re no stranger to fury, either.  ❞ ❝  think i’m gonna fall for that? no chance, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit --- you do pretty well with a sword.  ❞ ❝  you dare tell me to calm down?! you?!  ❞ ❝  let's say i go about my business, and when there's coin to be earned, i don't readily turn it down.  ❞ ❝  i wish to know the truth...be it sweet, be it painful, i wish to know.  ❞ ❝  men, the polite ones at least, would call me a monster.  ❞ ❝  even i grow ill at the sight of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m going on a walk. or is that not allowed either? because i could break my leg?  ❞ ❝  plan’s crazier than it is sane...but there’s an irrestistible charm to it.  ❞ ❝  unbelievable! you said something romantic! you!  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  if anything should happen to you...  ❞ ❝  there’s not been a dark cloud yet that didn’t have a silver lining.  ❞ ❝  those are some fresh lookin’ scars you’ve got there.  ❞ ❝  no. no more about the battle. just hold me. and say something nice.  ❞ ❝  stay. this is the only home we’ve ever had.  ❞ ❝  you’re so charming when you try to be funny.  ❞ ❝  not proud of it...yet i considered all the options and found none better.  ❞ ❝  i look far different from when you last saw me.  ❞ ❝  i admire your optimism. wish i shared it.  ❞ ❝  and...try not to draw any attention to yourself.  ❞ ❝  nightmares haunt our nights and days. folk sleepwalk from their homes, never to return.  ❞ ❝  forgive me. it couldn’t be avoided. i truly am sorry.  ❞ ❝  well i’ve departed, escaped, been forced to flee so many times…yet i always returned. you ought to be used to it by now.  ❞ ❝  the human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the sea.  ❞ ❝  you think you’ve won. you are wrong. i can’t die.  ❞ ❝  you’re something more. something more.  ❞ ❝  barely nicked me, i’ll be fine.  ❞ ❝  it’s just that i felt...stifled, in your shadow. i’d have suffocated had i stayed.  ❞ ❝  come, don’t just stand there. i want a hug.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely here! i could stay forever.  ❞ ❝  do what you will, but leave me out of this.  ❞ ❝  we should end this discussion -- before i say something i'll regret.  ❞ ❝  you all right? you’re as pale as death.  ❞ ❝  let’s get back to the hut. i’ll protect you along the way.  ❞ ❝  not to keen on talking about it, are you?  ❞ ❝  it’s better to die than to live in the knowledge that you’ve done something that needs forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  at times one must use reason, rather than blades.  ❞ ❝  need some peace. gotta prepare.  ❞ ❝  i suspected it might not be the best idea, but i was desperate, had no choice.  ❞ ❝  so tell me how it happened. step by step.  ❞ ❝  it was a bit of a lark, a jest. i meant to bring it all back, i swear.  ❞ ❝  if i wanted to kill you, you'd be long dead by now.  ❞ ❝  that is precisely one of the reasons why i abhor your world.    your senseless brutality.  ❞ ❝  i won’t let them take you, you know that?  ❞ ❝  magic...childish hocus-pocus. it’s just not interesting. what i find fascinating are true tales of true human lives.  ❞ ❝  save your praise for others. i couldn’t give a shit.  ❞ ❝  well, well, i am impressed. doubted you still had it in you, frankly.  ❞ ❝  i like you. don’t make me hurt you.  ❞ ❝  you know very little can hurt you being immortal, so you take wild risks, chase extreme sensations. there comes a point you’ve done it all, and all seems boring and monotonous.  ❞ ❝  with you i finally feel...harmony. a calm. feel like things are the way they're supposed to be.  ❞ ❝  i'm afraid the dishwater’s as good as it gets in this establishment.  ❞ ❝  sorry to take so long, but i had to deal with the guards.  ❞ ❝  i’d never miss a chance to spend a pleasant evening with you.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. yet one more reason why you must die.  ❞ ❝  or perhaps you seek to trick me.  ❞ ❝  if you acknowledge any gods...start praying, now.  ❞ ❝  it’s very simple. you either deceived me...or not.  ❞ ❝  i am known neither for my sense of humor nor for my patience.  ❞ ❝  naturally, it would be easier with your help, but...you irritate me.  ❞ ❝  love questions like that. am i holding up? what, my dick?  ❞ ❝  we never hunt in these woods. not even if it means the whole village starves.  ❞ ❝  we’re only ever the ones to know the truth about ourselves.  ❞ ❝  you’re insolent because you believe i cannot afford to hurt you. and you’re right.  ❞ ❝  i detest graveyards, especially wandering them alone.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. you impede me too often. and i find your arrogance an annoyance.  ❞ ❝  i know it’s wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right?  ❞ ❝  i don’t know that i’ll make for engaging company. in truth, i rarely talk to men.  ❞ ❝  you know...had a dream about you recently.  ❞ ❝  i thought i could at least count on you to treat me seriously.  ❞ ❝  don’t ask questions you know the answers to. it makes you look stupid.  ❞ ❝  you’re nosy. starting to piss me off, you know?  ❞ ❝  what did i do to deserve this? have i given you cause to doubt my intentions?  ❞ ❝  don’t fret about me. i always get by somehow, right?  ❞ ❝  i wanted to go with you --- that was my idea.  ❞ ❝  i shan’t stray a step from your side.  ❞ ❝  if that’s what it takes to save the world, it’s better to let that world die.  ❞ ❝  what’s that supposed to mean? that a threat?  ❞ ❝  i’m offering a great and true adventure, an experience like no other, the fate of only the chosen few.  ❞ ❝  that’s like choosing between pestilence and the plague.  ❞ ❝  what’s it matter? i only ever thought of you.  ❞ ❝  did you know you’ve gained twenty-seven new scars since we’ve last saw each other?  ❞ ❝  i need to know the details if you want me to get my hands dirty.  ❞ ❝  don’t know you. go away.  ❞ ❝  ever vigilant, even in your sleep. quite vampire-like, in fact.  ❞ ❝  gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast.  ❞ ❝  we share a cause, then. just like the old days.  ❞ ❝  ever considered becoming a burglar? skill like that’d come in awful handy.  ❞ ❝  there’s never been a frown that couldn’t be turned upside down.  ❞ ❝  honesty's an attribute of the truly brave --- and thus the privilege of the very few.  ❞ ❝  you do not have a monopoly in altruism, my friend.  ❞ ❝  great love demands great sacrifices.  ❞ ❝  i believe it wise at times to share one’s secrets, unburden oneself to those one can trust.  ❞ ❝  it would be nice from time to time if you could sit back and enjoy life, instead of going around solving everyone’s problems.  ❞ ❝  we shall dance until the break of dawn!  ❞ ❝  a man could lose his head for a lass like you.  ❞ ❝  don’t have to come if you don’t want. wait here.  ❞ ❝  never seen this side of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m to kiss the ground you walk on, is that it? but you just did your duty.  ❞ ❝  the day you give me a smile...that moment, that’s what i’m waiting for.  ❞ ❝  i need a soul intelligent and clever, an individual who fears no dare. someone like you.  ❞ ❝  if i was you i’d catch some shut-eye, not go on flapping my tongue.  ❞ ❝  the plan is simple...which does not mean it will be easy to execute.  ❞ ❝  sometimes you really get on my nerves, you know.  ❞ ❝  you shall not turn on me, use what i say against me? you shall not tell anyone?  ❞ ❝  gave you a chance. should’ve taken it.  ❞ ❝  always better to do a bit more and even gain nothing by it,    than to do too little and face regret.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely out here. the birds singing, the bees buzzing...blissful, really.  ❞ ❝  what a lovely dress. the color suits you exquisitely.  ❞ ❝  pretty fantastic tale. hard as hell to believe.  ❞ ❝  it’s time you discovered my romantic side.  ❞ ❝  you gotta understand the whole world doesn’t revolve around you.  ❞ ❝  can you not see i am out of my mind with worry?  ❞ ❝  every rose has its thorn, and there are no happy endings.  ❞ ❝  pretty quick to reject help. why is that?  ❞ ❝  don’t need to like each other. just gotta do our jobs.  ❞ ❝  frankly, if i can do something for you, i'll do it, willingly.  ❞ ❝  you were hired you kill me, were you not?  ❞ ❝  what’s it like, going toe to toe with a monster? knowing you’ve only two options --- to kill or be killed?  ❞ ❝  this place --- there’s evil here. death hangs in the air.  ❞ ❝  intellect counts as much as strength.  ❞ ❝  i run back inside, hasp the doors, and then i hear it --- someone whispering my name.  ❞ ❝  you know i like you. unlike the rest of this lot, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.  ❞ ❝  if you love somebody, set them free.  ❞ ❝  if you hate me so deeply, why don’t you tell me to my face?  ❞ ❝  i’m afraid you’d not realize which way the wind was blowing if you pissed straight into it.  ❞ ❝  that was courageous. i'd never expect it from you.  ❞ ❝  i am not easily impressed, but i must admit you have succeeded, my dear.  ❞ ❝  kill me if you must. i’ve nothing to live for anyway.  ❞ ❝  aren’t you an extraordinary beauty.  ❞ ❝  never suspected you believed such things.  ❞ ❝  wait...you want to go with me? out of the question.  ❞ ❝  used to it. not the first time i’ve been hunted.  ❞ ❝  enough of this hesitation, this fretting, these feelings of guilt!  ❞ ❝  strange working with you. strange, but great.  ❞ ❝  give me a moment. i must don something more appropiate and concealing.  ❞ ❝  killing comes as naturally to me as blowing my nose.  ❞ ❝  ......   another tale of a life compromised and ultimately claimed by greed and ambition.  ❞ ❝  in the future, though, remember this --- i can look after myself  ❞ ❝  you'd really worry about me if i went on alone?  ❞ ❝  you have many merits. you merely hide them from the world very diligently.  ❞ ❝  is it true virtue always trumps villainy?  ❞ ❝  watch my movements. i’m spry as a cat and sly as a fox.  ❞ ❝  ah, if only this could last forever.  ❞ ❝  few i can rely on like i can on you. kinda hoping you think the same of me.  ❞ ❝  you are angry at the whole world. you feel inferior, feel pain, though you mask this with confidence, arrogance, even.  ❞ ❝  there exist worries for which there quite simply is no other medicine.  ❞ ❝  your bones look thin, your breathing’s wheezy. afraid one punch might kill you.  ❞ ❝  to love is to build a house of cards, or play a game of chess, but one word or ill-thought move and you must start it all afresh.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i ever wanted to do, being who i wanted to be. i believe that’s one definition of happiness.  ❞ ❝  you’ve not an ounce of refinement in you, have you?  ❞ ❝  pain rules the body, but fear is born in the heart.  ❞ ❝  either i get burned, or i’ll burn all else down. no other options.  ❞ ❝  should you decide your sword is the sole solution, i shall not stand in your way.  ❞ ❝  c’mon, come closer.  ❞ ❝  would you prefer i treated you like the lying manipulater you are?  ❞ ❝  i regret nothing. one lives but once.  ❞ ❝  i just hope this tale has a happy ending. for me, for you. for everyone.  ❞ ❝  just gonna go our seperate ways? no parting words?  ❞ ❝  you still stand to be quite useful to me.  ❞ ❝  i suppose you wanted to frighten me...alas, you didn’t in the least. after all, i’m a monster too, am i not?  ❞ ❝  i trust no one. learned that long ago.  ❞ ❝  it cannot be! you actually have a sense of humor.  ❞ ❝  didn’t ask for a lecture on probability. need a simple answer --- yes or no.  ❞ ❝  another word, and i shall spill even more blood. yours.  ❞ ❝  you feel resentment, i understand, but we shall work through all the unfortunate matters of the past.  ❞ ❝  stop playing dumb. i know everything...your plan.  ❞ ❝  honestly can’t see what all those dames see in you --- you’re a stick in the mud.  ❞ ❝  not showy, lovely location...perfect for romantic getaways.  ❞ ❝  i hope you’re not upset i came like this, without warning...  ❞ ❝  i’m still a long way from mastering anything. but i am trying.  ❞ ❝  now i know how you do it. just annoy your opponents to death.  ❞ ❝  word on the street is there’s a hefty bounty on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a few days now i’ve been having dizzy spells.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always had a way with ostensibly dangerous types.  ❞ ❝  wound doesn’t look good.    patch that up quick if i were you, before it starts festering.  ❞ ❝  always seemed to me you were a very complicated creature, by nature. not one to resort to such simple methods like drinking your worries away.  ❞ ❝  may i be honest? yes, i’m nervous. i really would prefer to just run off.  ❞ ❝  father always said a wise man learns from others’ mistakes, so here i am, learning from his.  ❞ ❝  ever since that horrid night...everything has changed.  ❞ ❝  what’s wrong? afraid? gut feeling queasy?  ❞ ❝  used to bother me, all your secrets...now i know if you have something to tell me, you’ll tell me.  ❞ ❝  i so don’t feel like going anywhere. sit here a while longer?  ❞ ❝  there’s something i’d like to know...how can you be so damned calm?  ❞ ❝  my knees quake like a carnival rattle.  ❞ ❝  honestly didn’t think this’d work. doubted anything would happen.  ❞

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. ii: they whose lives do not taste of evil ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 2.7k

warnings: none that are chapter specific.

rating: m/t

notes: thank you to everyone who has loved on me and supported me after posting the first part of this! it really makes me so warm and fuzzy inside and i cannot express in words how grateful i am. ♡

as always, thank you to my love @starcrier for being my most wonderful beta. ♡♡

Morning light filters through the curtains in the bedroom. The air conditioning had clicked off moons ago, having decided that the room was at its sufficient temperature; now just a few rays of the sun are warming the carpet on her side, cutting across the cream-colored knit blanket at the foot of the bed. Through the windows, she can hear the bustle of New York—churning, grinding, a beast of its own as it laboriously beneath their own feet.

Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that she hates New York—that she misses the countryside in Italy, that she misses bare feet on grass and warm, dark earth and the sticky-wet of pulling fruit straight from the vine. Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that New York is a beast waiting for her, to swallow her up, teeth ripping through pavement and concrete and brick to bite bite bite until it reaches her.

But not today. Today, Euphemia is not thinking about the Beast. She is thinking only about the fact that Santino’s spot beside her is empty, and then she’s reminded that today he will be wandering out into the world under the Table to ask a man who doesn’t want anything to do with Santino to grant him a favor. To grant Santino what he is owed, as he would prefer it framed.

Euphemia sits up in bed. She’s not sure when it is that she finally fell asleep, but if the drag of exhaustion in her mind is any indication, it wasn’t very long ago. She can’t recall if she dreamt, or if she rested even at all—if she had to guess, she’d think she spent the entire night tossing and turning, restless, with the burning itch of John Wick’s threatening presence looming in her future.

She can hear Santino out in the kitchen; the smell of coffee drifts in through the open door. The blonde slips out of bed to wander out, her footfalls quiet on the plush carpet, and she sees him—dressed, polished up, as though he got a perfect eight hours of sleep. An old song hums through the speakers of the sound system on the entertainment stand.

So much for keeping him distracted, Euphemia thinks ruefully.

“Good morning,” Santino greets, pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on the island counter to scoot it in her direction. “You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have,” Euphie replies, taking the cup in her hands and using it to warm her fingers rather than drinking the coffee. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t feel like I have slept at all.”

“Yes,” he agrees somberly, “you were restless.” His hand reaches up, the pad of his thumb tracing the slope of her jaw. “My little worrier.”

She crinkles her nose at him, finally relenting and taking a sip of her coffee. He’s made it just the way that he knows she likes—strong, rich, cream and no sugar. Santino winds his arms around her and laces his fingers against the small of her back, leaning so that he can get a long, good look at her.

“Well, go on,” he prompts her, eyes glittering playfully. “I know you want to say something to keep me home.”

Euphie’s chest tightens. It’s a little cruel of him; he wants to hear her ask, even though they both know there’s nothing she could say to change his mind. He likes to have her ask just so he can tell her no, and usually, she won’t bite. Not for his ego.

But this is different.

She sets the coffee aside, her hands instead finding his chest, holding on to the lapel of his jacket. She says, “I don’t want you to go, Santi. Please don’t go. We can stay in bed all day, or—what if we went back to Italy? Just for a little while? My mother would like to see you, I know.” Swallowing, Euphie feels her lashes flutter, the desire to let her voice wobble with emotion almost overwhelming. I won’t, she thinks, I won’t cry. “We can do anything you want, but—not this.”

“Sweet Euphie,” Santi sighs, taking her face in his hands. “Così dolce, just for me, aren’t you?” He leans in and kisses her temple; for a split second, she thinks that he might acquiesce, that he might set it aside, even for one day—indulge her, the way that he likes to do. Santino has always wanted her to be selfish with him. When they’d started dating, it took her months to get used to the way he’d buy her anything, cook her anything, give and get her anything, and for a girl who’d had so very little for so long, it had almost been nauseating. She would eat her fill, and Santino would say, more, cara mia? Would you like more? As if he had known that allowing her to indulge herself in the fruits of his world under the Table would curse her to stay, forever.

And here she was. Stuck. Blissfully, dreadfully, wretchedly, sickeningly and wonderfully stuck.

“But no,” he continues, pulling back and tilting her chin up with his fingers. “Business needs to be taken care of before I can relax.”

Euphemia releases a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. It’s not an unexpected response, but she won’t kick herself for trying—not considering the circumstances, considering what he is leaving to do. In anything else, she might have been too proud to say please.

Her fiancé plants a kiss on both of her cheeks. “Drink your coffee,” he commands, his voice light as he grabs his phone and tucks it into his pocket, heading for the door. “What time is the engagement party?”

“Seven,” Euphie replies tiredly. She does as he bids like it’s second nature to her now, taking a drink of the coffee. “Be back by five, Santi.”

His hand is on the handle to the door outside. She thinks she might be sick. He says, “Wear the red dress I like.”

“Maybe. If you behave.”

Santino flashes her a grin from the doorway. She wonders if anyone else is comfortable ordering him around, or if she’s just so accustomed to living with an apex predator that she’s become numb to his dangers.

“Yes, cara mia,” he purrs. “Anything you say.”

Except that isn’t true, she thinks, watching him open the door and greet Ares, who has been waiting—lurking, in the hall to the elevator, like the shadows cut across the floor from the chandelier lights. There is a tiny moment where their eyes meet over Santino’s shoulder, and Euphemia hopes that she might see pity; she’s miserable, after all, knowing that Santino is walking into a slaughterhouse.

As ever, Ares is unreadable. There is only the tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of the corner of her mouth, and then door is closed and Euphemia is alone. And there is a tiny, vicious part of her that says, we ought to get used to being alone. We never should have forgotten it in the first place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Santino is late, and when he shows up, he doesn’t say whether things went well or not.

They must have gone well enough, because he’s alive and in one piece and in a fine enough mood. But that is the problem—his mood is fine. He arrives at his own engagement party in a fine mood, and Euphemia can’t decide what’s more irritating: that he’s late, that he won’t tell her how it went, or that he can’t fake being delighted for a few hours.

“Ah, there’s your man,” Winston says, a smile lifting his expression. The older man had been keeping her company as the hour ticked by and she had to say hello and hi and thank you to every guest attending at Santino’s behest—yet another frustrating detail, Euphemia mentally notes, that he’d bothered all of these folks to show up and didn’t have the decency to arrive on time himself. She’s very certain that Winston did not intend to stay as long as he has, and for that, she feels poorly.

But she’s too irritated to express it properly. “Is that one mine?” Euphie asks lightly, turning her gaze away from Santino striding into the room and getting stopped by guests on his way to her. She twists her untouched champagne flute in her fingers, fixing her gaze back on Winston. “No man of mine would come late to his own party. Not if he wanted to walk out in one piece.”

Winston laughs at her words and gives her hand a pat. “You are a woman after my own heart, Euphemia Volpe.”

“I’ll be accepting applications for the position of my husband shortly, I think.”

She feels Santino’s hand on her waist just before he leans into kiss her cheek; the movement is so quick that she doesn’t have the time to properly avoid his affection, and he almost certainly does that on purpose.

“I am so glad you could come, Winston!” Santino announces, reaching and shaking the older man’s hand. “And that you got to spend some time with my own personal star.” He turns to her now, finally, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Mi dispiace, Euphie, I did try to hurry.”

She tilts her head a little, lifting her chin out of his grasp. “Don’t apologize to me,” Euphemia replies. “Winston is the one you kept waiting.”

Santino grins. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes—or rather, it doesn’t look like the kind of grin that you make when you’re happy. Nothing about him screams happy, future wedded-bliss. Everything looks strained, like someone’s pissed him off and he’s just had to do something about it.

He looks at Winston, dropping his hands. “I’m sorry, truly.”

The man waves his hand, as though it isn’t a big deal—but it is, Euphie knows, at the very least to her; Winston has always treated her kindly, regardless of whose arm she was on-and he puts a hand on Santino’s shoulder. “I only came to say congratulations and see this fine lady, and then I was going to be off. So—congratulations...” His gaze turns to Euphemia. “Miss Volpe.” He kisses both of her cheeks. “Here I have seen you. And I will be on my way.”

Euphie says, “Thank you for coming, Winston. You did not need to wait around for this idiot.”

“I never say no to time with a beautiful lady,” he admonishes, making to leave. “Santino just happens to be here.”

“I will walk you out,” Santino declares. He’s only just arrived, and he smells a little bit like smoke, and he’s carrying with him a strange, frantic energy; but before Euphemia can think to say anything, he’s kissing her—hard, and a little desperate, and she can feel an eerie tremble in his hands before he pulls away and takes her drink out of her hand and swallows the entire thing in one go.

And then he’s off. Walking away with Winston, who looks calm and unbothered by the erratic display (though Winston always looks that way, so it’s no good gauge for Euphemia to tell when something is off). But something is off. As they’re walking, Santino is talking to Winston with a frenetic urgency that translates only in ways she can recognize. To the outside eye, her fiancé is composed, and perhaps a little stressed, his strides collected and tight and his lopsided grin to sharp to be pleasant.

His kiss tastes of ash. She can feel it in her mouth, still, gunpowder and smoke lingering in the palette, but she will not bring herself to think about where it came from.

By the time Santino returns from “walking Winston out”—which probably means talking to Winston about something he doesn’t want Euphie to hear—she has decided to bring it up. She doesn’t know how, yet, but she’s going to do it.

He slides his arms around her as she visits with some of their friends, burying his face into the crook of her neck, like he just can’t stand not to be touching for a second longer. The conversation carries on blithely without her; Euphie reaches up and cradles the side of Santino’s face with her hand, fingers brushing the dark, honeyed curls at his temple. She’s decided to be sweet about it.

“You seem stressed,” she murmurs.

“Not stressed,” Santino replies, speaking the words into her neck. He sways a little, turning her in his arms and pulling her against him so that he can sway her with him. The movements are leisurely in comparison to the energy that he’s carrying; pushing and pulling with the lull of the delicate music playing overhead. It should be a dream, this engagement party. It’s all golden light and warmth billowing from an ornate fireplace, the people that she cares the most about celebrating her and Santino’s love.

Euphemia says, “You smell like smoke.”

It’s not a question, and Santino knows it. He holds one of her hands in his and presses their foreheads together.

“You are so beautiful, Euphie,” he sighs dreamily. He kisses her again—less urgent this time—and she knows what it means: it’s better if she doesn’t ask. She’s going to be a D’Antonio, which means that problems get taken care of for her, and she doesn’t have to worry about following up.

Still, while the warmth of his kiss is distracting and lovely, and the feel of his hands pressing into the base of her spine where the plunging back of the red silk dress he likes the best on her makes her skin break out in delighted goosebumps, she cannot help but think, I should know. I have a right to know what’s going on.

“Santi,” she begins, lower her voice even more, “if something has happened—”

“Nothing has happened,” Santino insists, turning her slowly before drawing her back against him. “Mia piccola volpe, stop fussing. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “Yes,” she replies after a minute, “you did.” But if something has happened, she wants to say, and can’t bring herself to because Santino is kissing her again, pleased with her concise and obedient answer; he kisses her again and again, between breaths, funneling all of his frenzied energy into her instead. He gives it to her to hold, but won’t tell her where it’s come from or why it’s there. Just shoves it into her for safekeeping.

People cat-call and holler and whoop and laugh, and he grins against her mouth, lifting her up against him playfully—just far enough off the ground that she loops her arms around his neck to steady herself, unable to focus on how frustrating it is to be worried, and not know why.

“Ti amo,” Santino rumbles against her collarbone, kissing there reverently. “What do you think about leaving, hm? Sneak out of our own engagement party early, so I can take you home and enjoy you properly?”

It sounds too good, to go home. It sounds too good, because just that morning, she was begging him not to leave.

“I don’t know,” she ventures, smoothing her hand absently over the lapel of his suit jacket once he’s set her back down. “I don’t know, Santi, I...”

Her voice trails off. Ares is by the door. Once, the woman had been a comfort to her; now, she’s a reminder of this traitorous thing Santino has done, this thing that sits between them but only he can see and touch and feel, and Euphie just has to suffer the consequences of it one way or another.

“Come on, cara mia,” he coaxes, drawing her eyes back to him, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “We can do whatever you want.”

There must be something he isn’t telling me, she thinks. Something that’s blown his pupils wide until the black at them is eating away at the gorgeous jade green of his irises. Something dreadful, that he knows she’ll hate. That she’ll fuss about.

The question sits there, just on the tip of her tongue. What about Wick? she wants to ask. But she already knows that he won’t tell her, and she is learning quickly not to ask.

Ignorance is bliss, anyway.

love

Written for Day 7 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

7. love - don’t got nowhere to go / so we’ll go with the flow / yeah, we’re living the life / sippin’ on sunshine

“I can help clean,” Aang offered as Iroh began clearing their group’s cups and plates from the circular wooden table.

Iroh chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s no need -”

“I insist,” Aang interrupted, standing and collecting his own dishes. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for closing the shop early so we could be together without politicians and paparazzi peering over our shoulders.”

“There’s no use arguing with him,” Toph commented before Iroh could protest further. “Once Twinkle Toes decides to help someone, nothing will change his mind. Accept your fate, Iroh.”

Katara laughed along with the rest of their friends, and Aang gave them a guilty grin.

“Hey, I learned from my wife-to-be,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Katara’s forehead. “Never turn my back on people who need me!”

Katara rolled her eyes at his comment, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Aang and Iroh gathered the last of the group’s dishes before disappearing into the kitchen.

Zuko hummed in contentment, draping an arm around Mai’s shoulders. “I wish we could meet up like this more often. Be together without all the chaos.”

Today had involved an annual meeting of important representatives from all four nations, this year hosted by the Earth King. In other words, Katara knew, it was a very rare opportunity for their friend group to reunite in full. Only after the day’s politics had ended, of course.

Sokka snorted. “I agree, but you’ve gotta admit it’s pretty much impossible for this to be a regular event.”

“Ember Island is always open for an impromptu vacation,” Mai reminded them, earning more laughter from the group.

“I might take you up on that soon,” Suki mused, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and shaking her head. “A vacation is sounding more and more attractive with every second.”

Katara allowed herself a breathy sigh. “Spirits, if I could get Aang to take a vacation…” She snorted. “That would be the day.” Her fiancé was notoriously stubborn about working until he dropped. In fact, there was only one other person whose work ethic could compare.

Mai chuckled. “Zuko is exactly the same. Always working himself into the ground.”

Ah, yes. There it was.

Toph snickered. “Sounds like a match made in the Spirit World. Are you guys sure Zuko and Aang shouldn’t be the ones getting married next month?”

Zuko flushed a shade of scarlet as bright as his fire. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

Katara bit her tongue to hold back a snicker as Toph grinned at him. “Yes, I’m very aware.” Her grin narrowed into a sly smirk. “You’re sitting right here, and yet you deny nothing.”

Sokka burst out laughing, lightly elbowing Zuko in the ribs. “She’s got you there, hotman.”

Mai snorted at the nickname before giving Katara a play-sympathetic look. “Master Katara, how do you cope with the fact that my husband and yours-to-be are in love with each other?”

Katara sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, it was incredibly difficult for me to come to terms with.” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “After I learned they’d kissed, I thought I’d never -”

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, burying his face in his hands at the same time Toph exclaimed, “Sparky and Twinkle Toes have kissed?!”

Katara couldn’t feign her melodrama any longer, letting herself succumb to a fit of intense laughter that made her entire upper body shake.

“Yes, they have,” Mai confirmed with a smirk. “It was hilarious, and I will never let Zuko hear the end of it.”

Zuko stared dead into the distance, his empty expression screaming that he’d rather be anywhere but there. “You’re going to tell them the story, aren’t you.”

The melancholic certainty with which he spoke was enough to make Katara snicker once more as she gave Mai a knowing glance, but before the Fire Lady could respond, Sokka spoke.

“Of course they’re going to tell us the story,” he scoffed. “The Avatar and the Fire Lord kissing? That’s the kind of thing you pass on forever to future generations!”

Suki laughed. “You sound way too invested for someone who has also kissed the Avatar,” she teased, smirking at her boyfriend.

Katara raised an eyebrow in amusement. Now that was news to her. “You did what, Sokka?”

Blood rushed to her brother’s face. “Not on the lips!” he squawked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am just very comfortable in my feminine side around Aang.” He tapped his cheek. “So yes, we have technically kissed, but not like that.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we’ve all been on the receiving end of Aang’s affection in some way or another,” Suki conceded. “That’s just his way of expressing love.”

A smile flitted onto Katara’s lips at her friend’s words. She knew most of all, perhaps, how Aang inclined towards physical affection. He was especially fond of kissing the tip of her nose.

“Really?” Sokka said, bewildered. “What, does he have a ‘thing’ with each one of us?”

Suki shrugged. “I mean, I guess so?” She smirked at their group. “Aang and I have a special, top-secret handshake. That’s our thing.”

Katara laughed. “I remember when Aang was just beginning to figure out the motions he wanted to include in your handshake.” She held her own hands up in joking surrender. “I was never privy to the final product, of course. Only experimental aspects.”

Sokka pouted. “First of all, I am hurt that I was never told this handshake existed. And second” - wounded, he placed a hand over his heart - “how come I don’t have a handshake with him?”

Suki rolled her eyes. “Babe, you said yourself that your thing with Aang is cheek kisses.”

Sokka appeared unconvinced. “Yeah, but I’m not the only one who gets cheek kisses from him.” He jutted his thumb towards his sister. “Katara gets them all the time!”

“Katara is also going to marry him, Snoozles,” Toph said with a snort. “I don’t think it’s totally off-base to consider she might have a few additional privileges compared to the rest of us.”

“Katara might be the one who snagged the Avatar,” Mai drawled, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, “but I think it’s safe to assume that everyone in here had a crush on Aang at some point in their life.”

Katara burst out laughing both at Mai’s declaration and the different forms of denial that followed. She’d long since accepted the reality that Aang’s charm meant many people would fall for him. And if anything, it made her feel even luckier that she was the one preparing for a wedding.

Mai appeared to thrive on the chaos she’d incited. The Fire Lady had clearly been spending more - maybe too much - time with Aang. “I don’t know why you’re all so up in arms about this,” she commented, studying her nails. “When I saw him dressed up for Zuko and I’s wedding, I wondered if I was marrying the right man after all.”

Zuko choked at her words, and Mai laughed as she patted him on the back. “Kidding. But I did think Aang was the best-looking man at the reception.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Zuko, who sighed, shoulders slumping. “No, I agree with her.” He flushed, his eyes dropping to the table. “Aang was definitely the most attractive person there.”

Katara remembered that outfit of her fiancé’s fondly. Saffron robes that danced the line between classy and casual, as fitting for an Air Nomad Avatar. And perhaps she recalled the attire begrudgingly, too, as it had attracted both wanted and unwanted attention towards her then-boyfriend at the reception.

“I’ll admit my heart fluttered the first time Aang returned to Kyoshi Island after the war,” Suki mused. “I hadn’t expected him to get so tall.”

Sokka gave his girlfriend an affronted look. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t I there -”

Suki silenced him with a finger over his lips. “Sokka. We both spent that weekend discussing how hot Aang had gotten. Don’t deny it.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You were planning to make some moves on Aang?”

Sokka’s face reddened. “You know what?” he finally said. “Maybe in another life. I’ll leave it at that.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Toph,” Mai commented, giving the earthbender a small smirk. “When did you realize you had a crush on ‘Twinkle Toes’?”

Toph crossed her arms over her chest, which Katara noted with amusement did nothing to hide the rosy blush coloring her friend’s cheeks. “Never. Because unlike all of you, I’m blind and therefore cannot be affected by Aang’s so-called ‘good looks.’”

“Aw, but Aang is so much more than his looks,” Katara teased, unable to remain out of the chaos Mai had incited any longer. “What got you, Toph? His voice? His jokes? His incessant kindness towards anyone and anything?”

Toph opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll tell you. On one condition.” She pointed at Zuko. “I still want to know how Sparky and Aang locked lips.”

Mai snickered at her husband’s misfortune, and Katara herself couldn’t help but laugh as Zuko muttered a variety of curses under his breath.

“An easy deal,” Katara agreed. “Now tell us - what got you?”

Toph exhaled a resigned sigh. “His voice,” she grumbled, and the table burst into another round of laughter and cheers. Really, they were lucky that Iroh or even Aang himself hadn’t returned to investigate all the noise.

“Honestly, no one can blame you there,” Sokka remarked, shaking his head. “Who could have predicted Aang would grow up the way he did?”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother, though she doubted the expression was as intimidating as she intended it to be. “Really?”

“Okay, well, except for you -”

“Enough chatter!” Toph interrupted, slamming a fist on the table. A smirk pulled at her lips. “Sparky? Storytime?”

Zuko groaned. “Remember how I said I wished we could all meet up more often?” He shook his head. “I take it back.”

Suki laughed. “Stop whining and get on with the story, Zuko.”

“Or else I’ll tell it for you,” Mai added, slipping her hand into her husband’s. Katara couldn’t deny the story would be funnier if Mai told it, as she’d already heard it a dozen times from her friend.

Zuko sighed. “It’s not even an exciting story.” He rolled his eyes. “I was going over some paperwork with Aang and Mai. At one point, Aang was called away for - for Avatar business, or something.” He huffed. “Aang went to give me a ‘goodbye kiss’” - Zuko pointed to his forehead - “because that’s his ‘thing’ with me, I guess. But I didn’t realize what he was doing, so I looked up to ask him a question, and we -”

“- and you accidentally kissed?” Sokka finished flatly. “Aw, man! That is boring.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Such a letdown.”

“What Zuko conveniently forgets to mention every time he tells this story,” Mai said, amused, “is that he leaned into the kiss.”

Toph burst out laughing as Zuko adamantly protested that no, he had not, no matter what his wife said. “So,” the earthbender said amidst her snickers, “what I’m hearing is that Zuko never really got over his crush on Aang?”

“No, he did not,” Mai mused. “But it’s not like I can hold that against him. Having a crush on Aang is perfectly understandable.”

“If it’s any consolation, Zuko,” Katara said, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin atop her hands as she gave the firebender a devilish grin, “Aang thinks you’re a pretty good kisser.”

Her comment set their group off for the umpteenth time, and Katara snickered at the rollercoaster of emotions roaring over Zuko’s face. There was nothing better than sparking a little chaos every now and then, was there?

Huh. Aang had rubbed off on her, too. She supposed being engaged to him would do that.

“Uh… I feel like I missed something here?”

Katara bit the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter as Aang dropped into his seat beside her. “Oh, no. You didn’t miss anything.”

Aang stared with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment at their friends, who were yet to collect themselves. “Are you sure? What did you guys talk about without me?”

Katara hummed noncommittally, shrugging. “Nothing special.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Just how much we love you.”

~*~

more of aang being adored by his friends in fanworks 2k21, please and thank you. i hope you enjoyed my collection of ficlets for the week, and as always - thank you for reading!

Of Prices Paid

This is kind of long, so maybe check it out on ao3? 

There is a lot to get used to in this immortality business, Nile thinks, as Joe guns the engine and peals away from the lab. No matter how much her brain screams at her to move on, Nile cannot tear her eyes away from the twisted hunk of metal that had been Merrick’s car. Not until Joe turns a corner and it disappears from view. Inside their vehicle, the Guard settles into silence, and at first Nile is grateful for it. No one is trying to gauge how she feels when she is still in shock. No one is trying to debrief her when she can still hear the wind whistling in her ears, when she can still remember the way her skull crawled underneath her skin to piece itself back together.

Nile feels too good for someone that had just rearranged her skeleton, and it seems wrong, in a way, to be sitting here feeling no pain, no exhaustion, no fear. The quiet in the car has a complexity to it Nile can’t quite untangle. It’s woven like a tapestry made of guilt, which roils off Booker like thunder, spun with anger that Nile can feel in the way Nicky sits, his shoulders tense, his hands balled in fists. But it’s like a mirage in the desert, holding its form until it’s looked at up close. When Nile first met the Guard they had felt like a lie, like a fantasy or a dream. She hadn’t understood, hadn’t felt the years they had lived until now. Until she was sitting in this silence; this tired, expansive, comfortable silence. Nile is not used to this kind of prolonged stagnation, the lack of desire to fill empty time with entertainment. But these people beside her are ancient and do not notice they pass full hours just sitting in this car, aware of one another and completely content in that.

Nile distracts herself from the thoughts of blood, the sound of the gunshots, and the ghost of pain that crash around in her head by watching the others. She watches Nicky’s attention flicker between the light in Joe’s curls and the movement of his shoulder, takes note of the small smile that turns Nicky’s lip when he looks in the rearview mirror and finds Joe’s eyes meeting his. Nile watches Booker playing with his rings, his fingers fumbling and trembling. Notices he keeps his sunglasses on even as the sunlight starts to dip below the horizon. Nile inspects the way Andy’s jaw is set, watches her close her eyes, and hears how deliberately she breathes. Nile sees Andy flinch when Joe takes her hand, sees her shoulder slump a little when he turns his head for just a moment, and gives a gentle squeeze. Sees the smile spread briefly across Andy’s face as she nods softly and responds in kind. Nile watches Joe press a soft kiss to Andy’s knuckles, pat the top of her hand, and return his grip to the gear shift.

Nile stretches, uncomfortable and itchy with the blood still caked against her skin. They’d been driving for hours by this point in unfamiliar terrain. She feels a hand press quickly, tentatively against her elbow, and meets Nicky’s gaze. It’s piercing, studious, full of questions, and Nile blinks away the stinging in her eyes. It has been a long time since Nile cried, especially in front of others, and she was not about to start today, in a car full of people she barely knew. Nicolo softens, opens his arms a little in an offer Nile takes. She leans against his side, lets him hold her weight; Nicky wraps an arm around her and kisses the top of her head like her father used to. “We’re almost there,” he says, and Nile is equal parts surprised and not to find the man she read as the most quiet and contemplative of the group is the one to finally break the silence.

“Good,” Nile replies “Cause I’ve had to pee for about an hour now and I was starting to get worried,” The car is filled with laughter like fireworks, explosive but brief. Nile notices how Joe laughs with his whole body, how Andy chuckles under her breath, a timid thing. She sees that Nicky smiles and Booker doesn’t.  

“It’s not another mine is it?” Nile asks as she sits back up, Nicolo returning his arm to his side. “Because I don’t know about ya’ll but I need a stiff drink, a soft bed, and a shower,”

“I can solve the drink problem,” Booker pulls his flask out of his jacket pocket, wiggles it in Nile’s direction. Nile takes a swig, tries to stifle a cough as the whiskey hits her tongue.

“No,” Andy says, biting back a smile “It’s not a mine,”

Ten minutes later, Joe turns down a dirt road. The cottage that sits at the end of the driveway looks straight out of a storybook. It’s roof thatched and slanting, the garden overgrown, Nile half expects a witch to pop out of the front door and welcome them in. Booker is the first out of the car, rushing towards the building before Joe has even finished parking.

“Guess he had to pee too,” Joe remarks bitterly as he jods to the side of the car to open the door for Nile and Nicky, offering his hand to help them stand.

“Such a gentleman,” Nicky says as he untangles himself from the middle seat, takes Joe’s hand,  and pulls him in for a quick kiss. Their fingers are the last thing to part, Nile notices, as Joe heads towards the passenger seat to open Andy’s door. Nicky moves towards the trunk to grab their go-bags and carry them into the house.

“Joe,” Andy scoffs light-heartedly when Joe dips into a bow and extends his hand. Nile pretends not to notice how long it takes Andy to get out of the car, the way her face twists and her breath catches in her throat. Whatever weight had been lifted upon their arrival, upon the promise of sleep comes crashing back down.

“You okay, boss?” Joe asks, but the joy Nile usually recognizes in his voice is not there.

“Yes,” Andy pats his cheek twice with a smile that does not reach her eyes. “Just need to stretch my legs a bit. I thought when we invented cars they’d eliminate some of the more unpleasant aspects of riding horseback. But as it turns out, sitting in the same position for extended periods of time makes my joints stiff whether I’m in stirrups or in shotgun,” Nile knows just as well as Joe that Andy’s giving a bullshit excuse, but she understands Andy’s need for strength in this. “Why don’t you give Nile the tour? I’ll check the perimeter,”

Joe nods and Nile watches the frown fall across his lips as soon as Andy turns away.

“She’s good,” Nile cannot stop herself from saying. “She’ll be fine,”

Joe’s shoulders fold, his hands massage his neck, and when he turns to look at Nile, his eyes shining, she is struck for the first time by how easily, how readily these people choose kindness and honesty. She’s seen the way they tear through a siege, the ruthlessness and the precision of their actions. Yet when Joe looks at her, a man she’s only known for two days, a man she watched a few hours before pop Keane’s spine out of his neck, he seems so worn, so weary, so...vulnerable. So separate from his capabilities in battle.

“You did good today,” Joe kicks the dirt beneath his feet, sending a couple rocks scattering in different directions. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we would have gotten ourselves out of that one if you hadn’t been there,”

Nile smiles “All I did was untie Andy and jump out a window,”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Joe holds the front door open, and Nile steps through into the bright, inviting warmth of the cottage. “You’ve done a lot for us, for Andy, already. I look forward to getting to know you better. You’re going to make one hell of an addition to the team,”

“Thank you, Joe,”

Joe grins “I’m always here if you want to talk. But for now, let me show you around,”

After a quick pit stop to the bathroom, Joe and Nile walk together through the cottage, and as she listens to Joe, Nile finds it a little easier to accept the new conditions of her life. She watches the way he gestures when he speaks, makes a mental note of all the little details he shares with her, the dates of when the cottage was built and what missions they’d stayed here for. The excitement Nile hears in his voice falters and then falls away all together when Nicky walks by, arms crossed and standing in front of the bathroom door, where the shower has been running for the past few minutes. Joe’s brow furrows and his eyes focus, trained on the back of Nicky’s head, hair matted with his own blood.

“Quel bastardo prenderà tutta l'acqua calda.” Nicky mutters.

Nile bites back a smile as she watches Joe unconsciously turn his body to face Nicky, struggling to find the words he needs to finish his conversation with her. Joe runs his thumb across the ridges of his ring and shakes out his hand.

“Go,” Nile says gently, nods her head towards Nicolo.

“Are you sure?”

“Joe,” Nile gives him a knowing look “Go get your man,”

Joe chuckles, squeezes Nile’s shoulder, and heads toward Nicky. Nile watches the two of them wrap their arms around each other and press their foreheads together, breathing each other in. The intimacy of the action makes Nile worry she’s impeding on their privacy so she pretends to focus on the painting in front of her. They speak to one another, chatting in languages that Nile doesn’t know until she hears Joe say bitterly:

“I’ll kill him,”

“Joe, please.” Nicky pulls away, cups Joe’s face in his hands “He doesn’t deserve to see your anger. He doesn’t deserve anything from you at all.”

“Nicky he-”

“I know what he did,” Nicky shuts the conversation down “He is our family and I love him, but for the time being he has no right to my life, or yours. Booker is young and foolish and desperate still, he does not understand the depth of what he’s done. We will figure out his penance and he will serve it, and then we can move on from this.”

“Nicolo-”

“Che cosa?”

Joe begins to say something, but shakes his head and instead says “Ti amo,”

“ uhibbuka aydan ”

Joe and Nicky separate at the sound of the front door opening. “Who let Booker shower first?” Andy asks, running her fingers through her hair with a sigh. She opens the door to the bathroom, and bends over to pick up Booker’s bloody clothing “Time’s up, Book,” she calls. Andy wordlessly hands Booker a towel, and Nile averts her eyes in embarrassment as Booker, water still running, steps out of the shower stark naked and wraps the towel around himself. Andy places the bundle of his clothes in his hand, “Burn whatever you can’t salvage,” Booker does not meet Andy’s eye, but he nods. “Joe, Nicky, anything you want Booker to get rid of?”

Joe and Nicky head towards the shower, tugging their shirts off over their heads and tossing them to Booker. Booker leaves Nile and Andy alone in the living room. An awkward silence begins to settle between them, but Nile has spent most of the day without words and she’s starting to get tired of it.

“So,” she begins, “How much you spend on clothes?”

Andy raises an eyebrow, “Depends. We buy shirts for our missions in bulk, because it’s cheaper. Dark clothes help with blood stains, because if we don’t get shot we can just...wash them. It’s not always like this,” Andy sighs, cracks her knuckles, and massages her shoulders.

“You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that this week,”  

Andy sighs “You arrived at a uniquely...complicated time and I apologize for that,”

“I don’t think you need to apologize for what happened today. I figured my life was gonna get complicated the minute I was pistol whipped in Afghanistan and woke up in the trunk of some white lady’s armored vehicle, driving through the desert.”

“Yeah, can’t say after all these years that I’m the subtle type,”

“No shit.” Nile smiles, picks dust from under her fingernails. “Were you friends with Heinsberg or something?”

Andy’s eyes are bright and her grin energetic and genuine in a way Nile hadn’t Andy was still capable of. “No, I just likes to sow chaos,”

They chat for a few minutes about nothing in particular. Nile asks about the sculptures on the table, Andy asks about her friends back in Afghanistan. Nile is struck by how natural it seems for her to exist in this space. Andy seems more relaxed than she has in days, Nile can see it in the way she stands, the ease at which conversation flows. The sound of the shower quiets, and the door to the bathroom opens.

“Nile, would you like to go next?” Nicky asks.

“Sure,”

“We left a towel in there for you,” Joe adds.

“Thanks,”

There is a sound of a door opening and closing, and all eyes in the room turn to look at Booker. “I brought you some clothes,” he hands the pile to Nile, and one to Andy, and for a moment Nile cannot help but think that he looks small.

“Joe and I are going to change, and I’ll have dinner started by the time you’re done,” Nicky says, his back to Booker.

Nile nods and closes the door, wipes the steam clinging to the bathroom mirror away, and strips herself down. She takes a moment to look at herself, touches the blood caked to the side of her head, runs a finger down her arm where her bone had been sticking out just a few days before. She looks at her foot, no evidence of an entry or exit wound from the bullet she’d shot into it a few hours ago. She presses a hand to her neck, traces a line down the carotid. The first wound that should have killed her and no scar to prove it. She forces herself to think about something else, singing songs in her head to drive off the existential crisis she can feel brewing. Just a few hours ago she had jumped from 15 stories, felt the blood rush to her head, felt the pain shudder through her body like lightning as a car bent itself beneath her. She had taken lives, and in doing so committed herself to an eternity of slaughter.

She turns the shower on, waits for it to run warm. Within a minute she can hear the muffled sounds of shouting, an argument she wouldn’t have been able to understand even if she had wanted to. She sticks her head beneath the stream, watches as the water turns pink beneath her feet. She massages shampoo into each cornrow, making a mental note to pick up some supplies the next time they were anywhere near civilization. This bathroom was not stocked with her hair texture or skin type in mind. She scrubs herself down with the washcloth they had left her by the sink. Wonders to herself as she hangs the cloth up to dry how many gallons of bleach the Guard must go through after missions. Free of blood, Nile conditions her hair, turns off the shower, and pats herself dry. She finds no moisturizers, no lotions, no oils or gels in the bathroom cabinets, slips into the clothing Booker has given her, and steps into the living room.

“You could have just volunteered yourself,” Joe is standing in the kitchen when Nile returns. “There was absolutely no need to sell us all out,”

“I wasn’t trying to sell you out,” Booker exclaims, and Nile realizes there are advantages to the lack of questioning she’s been subjected to. Mostly that she hasn’t had time to tell anyone she grew up speaking French. “If he could get your DNA then it’s possible he could have figured out a way to-”

“Sebastian,” Andy sighs “stop,”

It is a testament to her command, the respect and reverence these old friends have for one another that Andy need not raise her voice to be heard over shouting. Booker deflates, unscrews the top of his flask and takes a swig “Oh. No need to stop on my account.” Nile’s voice fills the sudden silence “I can hang out somewhere else. I was just looking for a plastic bag. I’ve got conditioner in that has to sit for twenty minutes and need to wrap my head,”

“I’m not. You’re a member of this team now, Nile,” Andy responds, “You should be a part of every conversation that we have. I’m just...tired, and hungry, and covered in blood, I want to shower, and honestly, I don’t care what Booker has to say about his choices right this very minute. I think we should just eat dinner and pick this particular conversation up in the morning,”

“Sure, boss,” Booker and Joe speak together, and Nile watches Nicky whisper low to Joe, slip something into his hand, and push him out of the kitchen. He wipes his fingers on the hand towel sitting on his shoulder, and stirs whatever canned good he’d put on the stove to warm.

“Here’s that bag,” Joe places it gently on her head, it feels familiar, familial in a way that almost knocks Nile off her feet with homesickness.

“Thanks,”

“Okay, I’m going to get cleaned up,” Andy inches towards the bathroom. “Nicky and Joe, finish cooking and set the table. Booker, get the rooms ready. Nile, put your feet up, watch some TV, decompress a little, you’ve earned it,”

Before she can fully process the request, Nile finds herself alone in the foyer. While she’s searching for the remote, Nile realizes that the shower has not started up. She knocks softly on the bathroom door and looks over her shoulder to make sure no one else is paying attention. Nicky and Joe are bickering with one another about the addition of salt to the dish they are preparing, and Booker is nowhere to be seen so she asks a question.

“Andy, you okay in there?”

It takes a moment for her to respond, “I’m fine,” a comment she punctuates with a sharp inhale of breath.

“You sure about that?” Nile pries “Do you wanna give me your dirty laundry?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Andy replies, which she follows rather quickly with a quiet “fuck,”

“Andy, do you need help?”

“I–” Andy stops herself “No,”

Nile doesn’t believe her. “Andy, I know everything hurts. I know you’re worried about what we’re all going to think, but let me make it clear. I don’t care, I don’t pity you, and I won’t judge. I’ve been immortal for like...four days. If you’re bleeding or bruised I’m not gonna freak or feel bad about it. I’d honestly be more creeped out if you were completely fine.” Nile puts a hand on the doorknob and lowers her voice. “It just, sounds like you need help, and there is no point in causing yourself potential harm for the sake of appearances,”

The door opens and Andy drags Nile into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind them. “I just don’t want the guys to worry.” Andy says.

“I know,”

“I kind of wish Booker had just killed me with that gunshot.” Andy winces as she tries to remove her shirt. Nile helps Andy untangle her arms from the sleeves, tosses the shirt onto the floor. “This whole mortality thing is kind of a pain in the ass.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Nile teases.

Andy smirks “You’re so kind,”

“I’m sorry...did you want sympathy?” she asks, Andy kicks off her shoes and her pants, grabbing Nile’s arm to steady herself.

“No,” Andy laughs “No I did not,”

“I think we should get that looked at,” Nile moves on, pointing to the bandage on Andy’s abdomen, soaked with blood. “Looks like you re-opened the bullet wound.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,”

“Okay well, let’s just get the blood off of you first, and go from there. I feel like we should try not to get it wet though.”

“Fine, just...help me into the tub,” Nile holds Andy’s weight, pretends not to see the way Andy grits her teeth when she steps over the rim. She lowers herself down until she is sitting in the bottom of the tub, and reaches for a washcloth and some soap. Andy’s body is riddled with cuts and bruises, and Nile understands why Andy was hesitant to ask for help. It’s a pretty gruesome sight, even for someone who was expecting injury.

Andy sighs, a deep, exhausting thing, and leans against the back of the tub. She dips the washcloth in the water, lathers it up with soap and starts to scrub at the parts of her skin that are not tender. Nile closes the toilet seat and sits herself down.

“So…while you have me trapped here, in pain and unable to stand, do you have any other pressing questions about immortality, or...anything really?”

Nile chews her lip, feels her cheeks get warm “I’ll be this age forever, right?”

“Yup,”

“Does that mean....okay this is gonna sound stupid,” Nile closes her eyes so she won’t have to see Andy’s face when she asks “Will I still get my period?”

“Oh no,” Andy chuckles “God no. Your body heals itself, so there is no tissue to shed. If I still got my period I probably would have tried harder to end my immortality. Can you imagine thousands of years of that shit?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to,”

Andy wrings out the blood and dirt from her washcloth, and tries to reach behind her to scrub at her back. She bites back a cry of pain, the water rushing through the tub spout drowns out whatever sound escapes her lips. Nile takes the cloth wordlessly, begins to wipe the grime away from Andy’s skin “How many times have you died?”

“Lost count,” Andy stares at her feet. “At least two thousand, probably more,”

“How many times have you blown yourself up?”

“Five,”

“Only five?”

“Blown myself up or been blown up?”

“Blown up,”

“Then probably...forty,”

“What is the weirdest way you’ve died?”

“I ate mercury,”

“What?”

“Joe dared me too,”

“Most embarrassing way you’ve ever died?”

“Are all your questions going to be about my deaths?”

“How old are you?”

“Around sixty-five hundred. My foot got tangled in the sling of a trebuchet as I was helping place the payload and I got hurtled into the sky,”

“Have you ever tried to figure out why this is happening?”

“How would I do that?”

“I don’t know, but...aren’t you curious?”

“No,” Andy’s voice isn’t dismissive when she replies.

“Why don’t you believe in God?”

“I told you before, there was a time that I was worshipped as a God, but I’m just a person who has a hard time making death stick to her. I can’t shape the world, I can’t heal the sick, I can only kill,”

“And save,”

Andy looks at Nile and there is something in her eyes Nile doesn’t know how to decipher. “Regardless, having been a God to some sorry fuckers thousands of years ago, I have a hard time thinking that any part of it is real. As old as I am and as travelled as I’ve been, I’ve seen many religions rise and fall around all different types of Gods. And while I understand the comfort of prayer, community, and worship, it just hard for me to think that God exists when I see something so many people have believed in and have devoted themselves to disappear within a few decades. But you can believe whatever you want, I’m sorry if I was harsh about your religion before,”

“I appreciate that,” Nile’s hand freezes as she goes to scrub the dirt from Andy’s shoulders and finds a stab wound sitting there instead, cut deep and oozing. “Where did you get this?”

“Goussainville,”

“Its bleeding,”

“Is it?”

“Okay Andy, first of all, you can’t keep shit like this from anyone anymore. Secondly– and I can’t believe I have to ask this question –do you have bandages here? A first aid kit?”

“Yes, in my bag. I bought some the other night,”

“I’ll go grab it,” Nile hands Andy the shampoo and conditioner and slips out of the bathroom to go in search of medical equipment. Joe and Nicky look up from their work and raise their eyebrows quizzically. Nile pretends she doesn’t see them.

Booker is precariously balancing a stack of bedsheets when Nile comes into the room. “Have you seen Andy’s bag?” she asks him. Booker’s eyes are red when he looks up at her.

“Um, yeah,” he throws the sheets down, roots through the pile of bags on the floor. “Here,”

“Thanks,” Nile’s replies, her voice hesitant. She looks Booker over as she sifts through the bag. “How are you?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Booker seems desperate “I didn’t know,”

“She knows,”

“I thought I- it doesn’t matter,” Booker shakes his head. “I should have realized they would lie,”

“I know you think you were doing something good,” Nile says carefully. “But that wasn’t a choice you made with everyone, it’s a choice you made for everyone. Booker, if you have to kidnap your friends to get them to do something, maybe it wasn’t a good idea in the first place,”

“You’re right…” Booker plays with the edge of the folded bed sheets, not meeting her eyes. “We’ve all done things to piss each other off before, but this is really bad. I don’t know what I’m gonna do...what they’re gonna do,”

“I don’t either,” Nile finds the first aid kit, and leaves Booker alone. Andy is washing the suds out of her hair when Nile returns. “Anyone have medical training?”

“Nicky,”

“Are you okay with having him look at you? You have to be more careful now,”

“I know,”

“You think you know, but you haven’t been mortal in...over six thousand years. You can push yourself an awful lot, but you can’t ignore your injuries. When was the last time you had an infection? Or had to take medication?”

“Fine,” Andy sighs “Let me put on some pants.” Nile helps Andy out of the tub, turns the water cold and rinses the conditioner out of her hair as Andy dries herself off, struggles into her underwear and sweatpants.

“Nicolo,” Andy pokes her head out of the door “Vieni qui per favore,”

Without hesitation, Nicky joins them in the bathroom, “Everything okay, Andy?”

“Nile is worried I may need medical attention. She hasn’t taken any bandages off but she said there was blood on them and is concerned that I may have ripped my stitches, or whatever the hell it was they did to me,”

“Also she has a stab wound she didn’t tell anyone about on her shoulder,”

Nicky turns to look at Nile, then back to Andy, he raises his eyebrow slightly, and shakes his head when Andy shrugs. “I’m assuming it is okay for me to examine you?”

“Yeah,”

Nile watches Nicky work, how delicately he removes her bandages, the intensity of his stare as he analyzes the damage. “The stitches have definitely slipped,” he presses his hand to Andy’s stomach, rolling his palm slightly around her abdomen and then close to where her bruises have started to bloom. “You don’t have a rigid abdomen, so there’s probably not internal bleeding. Let me see the others,” Andy complies, resting her chin upon her hands, rolling her neck until it cracks. “The back seems to have slipped as well, and the shoulder one is a little too old for stitches. I don’t have sutures here, but I could glue it if you want,”

“Do you still need me?” Nile asks, a little woozy.

“I’ve got her,” Nicky replies.

Nile leaves the room and nearly jumps out of her skin when Booker and Joe rush to her “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nile pours herself a glass of wine. “It’s all good,”

Booker and Joe finish setting the table and they all prepare themselves for dinner. Nicky and Andy join them soon after they have sat down to eat. Over dinner, the attention turns to Nile, she is attacked from all sides with all the burning questions the immortals have about her life. Joe learns of Nile’s interest in art history and spends the rest of the meal excitedly telling her fun facts about every famous artist they’d ever met. Nile sits on the kitchen counter while the others wash the dishes. She listens to them hum snippets of long forgotten songs, and marvels at the way they move around one another without needing to speak. They are more than just a team, more than just a family, Nile realizes as Joe starts up a gramophone. When they are all together they are a single living organism.

Booker tries to offer her more wine and Joe tries to pull her, gently, off the countertop so he can teach her how to swing dance. Nile is not exactly shy, and under different circumstances she knows she would have participated more in the evening's festivities. But for tonight, Nile stays rooted in place, as a casual observer of their joy. Nile feels happier than she has in months, as she watches them drink, as Joe prays, and as the old friends dance together. A promise of what this life could be. The evening begins to calm and Andy, skin flushed and pupils dilated, and Booker head to bed.

“You coming?” Joe asks Nicky, who has been sitting at the dining room table, propping his head up with his hand, reading a book.

“Later,” Nicky looks up from the page “I’d like to read for a bit,”

“Okay,” Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s temple “Goodnight,”

“Night, love,”

Nile moves to sit on the living room couch, rests her arms on her knees, hangs her head so she can focus on the floor. She finally lets herself breathe, lets herself think about everything that she just went through. The burning pinch of the bullets that riddled her, the way her bones felt moving underneath her skin, the smell of blood and dust. She thinks of the man that killed her, the way life had left his eyes, how Andy had a similar look in her eye when the two of them peered out the broken window in Merrick’s penthouse. She runs her hands across her head, rubs the tears from her eyes. She needs to think, to make a decision. The longer she stays here the harder it is for her to justify leaving. This is a family, not hers, not yet, but she knows how easily it could be. She pulls out her phone, spends too long staring, blurry eyed at photos of her family. She thinks about her brother, his passion, his joy, and his sadness. She thinks of her mother, how hard she had worked to provide them a life they could be proud of, how determined she was to be happy despite the wrongs the world had handed her. She thinks of the emptiness that consumed their family when her father died, how badly her mother’s hand had shaken when she’d closed the door behind the officers that had delivered the news. Could she put her family through that again? Could she put her mother through that?

“I made you some hot chocolate,” Nicky places a steaming mug down on the coffee table. Nile blinks up at Nicky, so wrapped up in her own head she hadn’t fully processed what he’d said to her.

“Oh.” Nile sits up a little straighter “Thank you,”

“Could I join you?”

“Sure,” Nile holds the mug between her hands and lets the heat spread across her fingers.

“I’m not sure that it tastes very good, but sometimes all you need is a little warmth,”

“Thank you, Nicky,”

“Of course,” he takes a sip of his own drink. “How are you feeling about all of this, Nile?”

Nile sighs “Honestly? I have no idea,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what I want, I’m not sure what to do,”

“Do about what?”

“Any of it– All of it.” Nile watches the ceiling fan circle, searching for the right words “I’m not sure how to feel about this immortality business. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet, it still feels like a dream. I keep pinching myself just to see if I’ll wake up. I’ve died four times in the last week, I keep having nightmares, and I just,” Nile’s lip trembles “I just want my Mom, you know?”

“I do,” he admits “They don’t tell you when you train for battle how many people will die crying out for their mothers. In times of strife, in times of fear, we want that which will bring us comfort.  I’ve lived for nine-hundred years, and time has eaten away at a lot of my memories. I can’t remember what my mother looks like, but some days I am hit with an overpowering wave of melancholy knowing that I will never see her again. I can still remember how it felt, the first couple of times. How terrifying it was, how isolating, and every time I came back to life I thought of her, I wanted her to be there to tell me it was okay. But at the time I thought there was a devil in me, so I never let myself go back.” Nicky turns the full force of his attention towards Nile, and though every action he performs is gentle and controlled, Nile shrinks under the pressure of his gaze. “You’re an incredibly strong person, Nile,”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be,”

“You don’t always,”

Nile stifles a laugh, because Nicky means well, but he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what it is like to wear her skin, to grow up where she did. And while she has no doubt he’s faced trials and tribulations, and had his fair share of hate spewed at him, no amount of time on Earth will ever let him understand what she means. “I think I want to go home,”

“Why?”

“I want a better goodbye. I want to hear my mother’s voice again, I want to hug her one last time,”

“And what purpose does that serve?”

“I don’t know…” Nile shrugs, she looks to Nicky with lost eyes. “I don’t want them to suffer, I don’t want them to have to mourn me,”

“What happens if they start to realize you aren’t aging?”

“I leave,”

“And cause them pain,” under different circumstances, Nile would have thought this point was cruel, but to Nicky it’s a matter of fact. It is not a question, it is not a hypothetical, it’s merely...truth.

“I know what it was like, after my Dad died. I don’t know that I can put them through that,”

“You’ll have to do it eventually. You just have to decide whether you cause them misery now, or later,”

“I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye,” Nile’s voice cracks.

“Nile,” Nicky takes her hand, brushes a tear from her cheek, “No one ever is,”

“Ugh sorry,” Nile takes a raggedy breath, sniffles, and forces herself to smile, though it falters for a moment. “I don’t normally cry,”

“Why not?”

“It makes me feel weak, it makes me feel vulnerable,”

“But neither of those things are true,” Nicky takes a sip of his drink, “could I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,”

“Why did you come back?”

“What?”

Nicky’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the words. “When Andromache and Booker were brought into the lab, we asked after you, wanting to make sure you were okay, you were safe. I don’t think any of us would have forgiven ourselves if you had been captured too. Andy said that you had left, that you wanted to get as much time as you could with your family before the immortality caught up to you. We didn’t know if we’d ever see you again....until you came bursting through that door,” Nile feels her cheeks go warm “So...why? What caused you to come back?”

Nile examines the contents of the mug between her fingers, takes a sip to wash the tremble out of her voice. “Right before I left, Andy handed me her pistol and told me to get rid of the weapons before I got on a train. When I went to toss them, I noticed the clip was empty. Booker was the one that prepped that gun for her, so I knew something was up,”

“Ok,” Nicky surveys Nile’s face “But that doesn’t answer my question,”

“It doesn’t?”

“No,” Nicky’s lips turn up in the ghost of a smile “Just seeing that gun doesn’t mean you have to come back for us. We basically kidnapped you to get you to come here. You’ve only known us for a few days, you have no obligation to us. You could have looked at that gun, thought something was wrong, and then gone back to your family anyway. But instead...you chose to save us, even after our broken promises. Andy told you we’d keep you safe, and we left you alone, exposed, and in the open,”

“It’s not your fault,”

“I know,” Nicky runs a hand through his hair.

“How did you know about what Andy said to me anyway?”

“She was beating herself up about it in the lab,” Nicky states. “You don’t have to tell me if you do not wish too, Nile. I was just curious,”

“No,I–”  Nile stares straight ahead of her when she says it, focusing her attention on the front door. “It was Quynh,”

“Quynh?” Nicky asks, and Nile nods, forcing herself to face this kind man who asked hard questions.

“And you,”

“Me?”

“You were right. When I first saw the gun I thought about just leaving, figured that whatever was happening you’d have the time to get out of it on your own. But then I thought of Quynh, of feeling her drown over and over; the wildness of it, the insanity. And I thought of what you told me the other night, your fear of capture, of spending an eternity in a box. Feeling what Quynh felt– feels,” Nile corrects herself “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I knew I couldn’t leave you all to that potential future.”

Nicky sizes Nile up and though he smiles warmly at her, she feels like he is staring right into her soul. It’s not uncomfortable, just unexpected, Nile takes another sip of her hot chocolate to break the eye contact. When Nile looks at him again his body seems heavy, he’s staring at nothing in particular and rubbing his wrist absentmindedly.

“How ‘bout you? Are you okay?”

Nicky shakes his head and it takes him a minute to say anything at all “I don’t think so,”

“Were you scared?”

“Only for a moment, when they injected me and Joe with something and I thought they might separate us.”

“But they didn’t,”

“No. I did have to watch him tortured though,”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I’d throw myself in front of every danger to keep him from being hurt,” Nicky admits “And I couldn’t spare him from the pain,”

“Is that why you haven’t said a word to Booker since we left the lab?”

“We had some time to question him,” Nicky says after a moment of contemplation “when they got into the lab. Joe was pretty busy yelling at him, but Booker told us he hadn’t meant for it to go like this. He’d been promised answers to his existence, a potential cure to his immortality, a way to die before his time. He thought that we could all get some answers, that we would all want a way to end this cursed existence.” Nicky runs his hand over his face, looking to Nile with tired eyes. “I have never had a child, so I do not know what it is like to lose one. Much less three. I know Booker is hurt and lonely, and I cannot begin to understand the pain he must have felt having watched his children fade away, without being able to stop it. But he is wrong about us.  

Nicky turns to look behind him to the doorway where Joe is sleeping. “I’ve always had Joe, and Joe has always had me. For Booker, who has seen it all slip away from him, that seems like a blessing, and I don’t disagree. But,” Nicky scratches the back of his head “we have watched each other die over and over again for 900 years. And every time I see him die, I have to wait with grief spreading through my chest before I can reign it in, and hope that he moves again, that I can see him breathe. I throw myself in front of danger to protect Joe all the time, and I do it so that he does not have to suffer the wounds, but there is a part of me that does it because I am selfish. I hope that I will die before him so I do not have to bear losing him forever. I get a taste of what my life would be like without him by my side every time I watch him die, and I know I would be lost. Booker thinks the weight of immortality does not fall upon our shoulders, thinks that because Joe and I have always had each other that we walk on air, oblivious to the harsh realities, the objective truths of living as long as we have. He believes we do not know the loneliness, but Joe and I have lived every day with Death’s scythe above our heads. Booker and Andy do not have a monopoly on the tragedy, self-pity, or loathing that comes with what we do or...what we are. I am just as angry and tired as the rest of them, and there are times I wish I would just die, same as them. But, I make an active choice every single day to not succumb to the pressure. I choose to believe there is a reason for this, that this life has purpose, that we are doing good. I believe Joe makes this life worth it, but so does Andy, so does Booker, Quynh, and Lykon would have too had he lived long enough for us to know him. Booker thinks he is alone, because he does not see all of the wonderful people around him for the gift they are.

“What’s that advice people like to tell children? ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?’ I haven’t said anything to Booker since the lab because I’m angry. I am angry that we were captured, I’m angry at the fear I felt, however brief, over what could have happened had you not been the incredibly kind and compassionate young woman you are. I’m angry that Joe and I bore most of the consequences of Booker’s lapse in judgement. And it’s not anger he deserves, because I believe it was a mistake, I don’t think he would have done it had he known the extent of Merrick’s masochism. I don’t even think I would be mad if it had just been me. But it was Joe the guards beat in the van, it was Joe that Merrick stabbed. Booker never had to suffer the consequences of his own suicide attempt. Perhaps I am being too harsh, but for the moment I have other things to worry about.” Nicky clears his throat, holds his mug between his hands.

“Andy?”

Nicky’s sigh carries centuries on it “Andromache has lived a long life, longer than I can even fathom. She’s done a lot of good in this world, and she deserves the rest. I want to keep her around as long as possible, but I’m happy for her that sometime within the next sixty years or so she will finally know peace. It just….hurts,” Nicky stands, offers to take Nile’s cup “But these are the tired musings of an old man, I probably should not have offered you so much of my burden,”

“I asked,”

“You are a good person, Nile. I’m very glad to know you,”

“So are you,”

“Nile,” Nicky puts the mugs down to dry and says in a voice so low Nile isn’t quite certain she heard it correctly. “Could I give you a hug?”

“I guess?”

Nicky’s arms are strong, and certain when he pulls her in, and while he holds her the ground seems sturdy beneath her feet for the first time since she woke up in that hospital bed. “Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing her tighter “for saving my family,”

“Nicolo,” Joe is standing in the doorway, squinting against the light in the living room. His curls are messy, his beard is ruffled, and Nile has to keep herself from laughing at how adorable he looks.

“Trouble sleeping?” Nicky asks, he says it like it’s a joke, but Nile knows it isn’t.

“I was just thinking how cute I looked laying in that bed, and I would hate to deny you the opportunity to watch me sleep,” Joe winks, his face lighting up in a smile.

“I’ll be in in just a moment, Yusuf, va bene?”

“nem,” Joe disappears back into the bedroom.

Nicky turns back to Nile, and much like Joe’s earlier, when his eyes meet hers, they shine. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think so, are you?”

“I am,” Nicky squeezes Nile’s arm, his right lip pulling upwards “Goodnight, Nile,”

“Night,” she replies as Nicky follows Joe into the other room. While Nile is tired her mind is still working too quickly to settle for the evening, so instead she spends some time pacing the living room. She thinks about the days, about the Guard. Though they live forever, Nile has seen the way they come alive around each other, has seen the love they share. This is a family, she has no doubt, and one she will be lucky to one day feel a part of. When she plugs her phone in to charge, she feels the need to study her mother’s face, to try to commit it to her memory. She leans against the doorframe to the bedroom the others are all sharing, a bed made beautifully at the end, just for her. If Nile hadn’t just spent the last few years sleeping next to a dozen fellow soldiers she’d think that it was weird they always seemed to share a room. She looks at Booker, snoring lightly in his bed, even asleep his face is full of sorrow. At Andy, who is curled up on her right side, eyes flickering rapidly beneath her eyelids, face peaceful. She cannot tell where Joe ends and Nicky begins, the two of them a pile of legs and arms, nestled together warm and close. Nile turns off the lights, fumbles her way in the darkness to the bed, it’s a little lumpy, but much more comfortable than the cot she’s been sleeping in recently. She stares up at the ceiling, listens to the others breathe until she slips into unconsciousness.

That night she does not dream of Quynh, nor the men that she has killed. Instead, she dreams of her father’s combat boots, of the folded flag that hangs above the front door. She dreams of her brother, of the music he’s been working on. She dreams of her father, and feels like she is flying when he lifts her and places her on his shoulders. She dreams of shag carpet against her skin as she sits between her mother’s legs, as her mother braids her hair and calls her beautiful, and reminds her that there is so much life to be lived outside Chicago. “Look,” her mother says, and holds up a mirror. Inside it Nile sees Afghanistan, sees Gousainville, and London. “You have so many more adventures ahead of you,” her mother says, leaning forward so Nile’s cheek is pressed against her own. “Go find them,”

Nile wakes up in the morning to the sound of muffled laughter and makes her choice.

Helping Hands

Five x Unrelated Female

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.8K

𝗮/𝗻: So with the new season of TUA having come out today, I thought it would be the perfect time to post a little oneshot I thought of. This would be a little before Five got himself stuck in the future. Background information is the reader was born on the same day as the academy kids and she has her own powers. But her family didn’t give her up for adoption. She was raised in an abusive home and often went to the academy for solace. She was in the academy and went on their missions. She just wasn’t adopted by Reginald. Reginald often called her Number 8 or The Extra. Reader is closest to Five, Klaus, and Vanya.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Experiencing, signs, and talking about child abuse.

My stomach aches with every step I take. My hand laid flat against it, as if that would ease the pain. There was a gash across my hairline, my lip was split and blood dried across my chin and throat. It hurt to breathe too deeply and every step I took made me believe as though his hands were personally gripping my ribs and squeezing tightly. The last of my injuries consisted of a throb in my ankle.

I turned the corner, staying along the side of the walk as to not get knocked by the busying New Yorkers. I grip at their gate and limp along, with the gates help, until I reach the Hargreeves main gate. I open it and step up the stairs.

“Ah, dammit,” I grit out. The pain in my ribs increases with each step. My stomach churns and I fear I may vomit. I stumble up and lean against the side of the wall.

I lift up my fist to knock as loudly as I was physically able. I wait… and wait. No one answers. I bang my fist on the door again.

“Will someone answer that door?!” I hear the voice of Reginald Hargreeves snap from inside the home. I knock again; with a little less power than before. My breath quickened and I fought off a groan. “Will someone get the damn door?! Grace! Pogo! Anybody!” He shouted once again.

There was silence. Or at least I couldn’t hear anything. I waited patiently. I knew not to bug Mr. Hargreeves too much. If he couldn’t help, I would just go to the free clinic. Maybe they would be able to help. I wasn’t sure if they were able to help me without an adult present though… I was only thirteen. But I couldn’t go back there.

My mind was so overwhelmed with thoughts of what alternatives I could possibly go to that I didn’t hear Mr. Hargreeves himself open the door. I jump, finally noticing that he was standing there, looking at me with his beady eyes.

“Number 8!” He exclaimed, seeming as surprised as he was able. “What are you doing here? There is no mission, today,” he states. I exhale sharply, looking down at my shoes.

“I-I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know where else to go,” I say timidly. I don’t dare look back up at him. I feared too greatly that he was going to send me away. He doesn’t say anything, nor do I. The tension in the air was thick and yet I wasn’t sure what to make of it. So I finally look up.

Mr. Hargreeves eyes were already looking at my face. He looked with an understanding eye as he took in my injuries. This was not the first time I had shown up at the door on non-mission days in this type of condition. I also suspected that this wouldn’t be the last. His gaze moved all the way down to my swelling ankle. When he finished assessing the damage, he clicked his tongue and nodded.

“Well then, we better get you inside and get those checked on,” he stated. He stepped back and opened the door wider for me. I peered into the foyer and saw a glimpse of Vanya peeking her head from the living room. “Come now, we haven’t got all day,” he snaps. I exhale, looking down at my ankle. I wasn’t sure I could walk on it for much longer.

“Uh, sir?” I look from my ankle to him and down again. He realizes the issue and thinks for a moment, his lips pursed.

“Number Five!” Mr. Hargreeves shouts.

In an instant, a circle of blue appears out of thin air and Five steps out of it. His eyes instantly connect to mine. I smile brightly, instinctively standing up straighter and forgetting the ankle. I wince and stumble back again the wall around the door. Five’s eyes widen. He shoots from out of the house and is carefully guiding my left arm around his shoulder. I hop, finding my footing and finding myself very close to him. I pray my cheeks don’t flush.

“It happened again?” Five asked, jaw clenched tightly as he looked in my eyes— purposely avoiding the cuts and bruises.

“Yes,” I admit softly. I looked back into his eyes and I was entranced. We were dangerously close, so close I could see every speck of gold in his green eyes.

I had probably been in… like, with Five ever since I knew what liking a boy meant. Once I got over the fact that they too had cooties, the fact that cooties were not a thing, and the fact that I found boys— specifically Five, very attractive. I hadn’t admitted them and I didn’t plan on it. We were young and had all the time in the world. What’s the rush?

“Come on, come on! We cannot keep this door open. Come in, the two of you. Five, help her down to the infirmary,” Mr. Hargreeves demands, turning around and walking deeper into the house. Five doesn’t move. He keeps staring at me.

“I hate this keeps happening,” he grits out. I push myself closer to him and squeeze my arm in an awkwardly done hug.

“Me too..” i trail off. Five sighs deeply. “Now help me out, here. I’m feelin’ kinda rough,” I tease. What was meant to be a joke, turned out to be a mistake. Five shakes his head, jaw locked. But he starts to move. He slides an arm around my waist and helps me through the threshold.

When we step in, I look up, surprised, to see Mr. Hargreeves had actually waited. He had seen the encounter. That got my cheeks to flush. I duck my head as we start following him through the house. As we pass the living room, I once again catch Vanya peeking out at me with worry in her eyes.

“Number 7! Go back to your lessons. This is a private matter!” Mr. Hargreeves ordered. Vanya frowned, looking away from me and walking back to her lessons. Five and I glance at each other with a look of regret.

We hated how Vanya was treated just because she didn’t have any powers. I open my mouth to argue and ask her to help when Five squeezes my hip. My jaw snaps shut as I inhale sharply. I tense in his hold before I look over to him.

“Let it go,” he whispers in my ear. That was not helping me right now. I turn my head to him, causing our faces to be painstakingly close. Also not helping.

“But Five…”

“Not a fight fit for today,” he says lowly, finally acknowledging the cuts and bruises on my face. I nod and let it go. For now.

We both continue to follow Mr. Hargreeves when suddenly Klaus comes dancing in, a Walkman in his hands and headphones over his ears. I giggle when Mr. Hargreeves stops abruptly. Five sighs and rearranges his hold on me, pulling me right against his side in the process.

“Number Four!” Mr.Hargreeves snaps. Klaus’ back was facing towards us and his hips were shaking wildly. I giggle again, using my free hand to cover my mouth before it caught Mr. Hargreeves attention. “NUMBER. FOUR!” Mr. Hargreeves yelled. Klaus jumped about a foot in the air before he spun on his heel, ready to give the excuse of a lifetime when he saw Five helping me stand.

“Now what happened here?” He asked inquisitively. He stepped over to the other side of me, eyeing my injuries. “So this has happened once again, my friend?” He asks, moving his left arm to steady his right one as he thrummed his fingers against his cheek.

“Yes, it has. And we’re trying to get her some help. So if you don’t mind moving,” Five says slowly as if that’s the only way to get Klaus to understand something. It usually is.

“Why, yes, dear brother! I would just love to go with you guys to… you know, help out. Check out some things. Make sure our little number 8 is alright,” he gushes, patting my cheek a bit as to not hurt me even further.

“Number Four, you will not be a burden to me right now,” Mr. Hargreeves scolds. Klaus’ smile instantly drops as he meets the eye of his father.

“I would like to help in any way I can,” Klaus states.

“You can’t help!” Mr. Hargreeves shouts, heading down towards the stairs to the left.

“Then I’ll be there for moral support,” Klaus shouts back. Mr. Hargreeves stops and looks at him. Klaus makes a cross over his heart before resting his hand on top of it. “I’ll be as silent as the dead…”

Mr. Hargreeves narrows his eyes before letting out a grunt and heading down the stairs. Five starts moving us as well and this time Klaus follows. He bends down to my height.

“Unluckily and luckily enough, the dead aren’t so silent for me,” he said with a cheeky grin and a sly wink. He bounds ahead and practically skips down the stairs. I see Five shake his head and I couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Five asks, looking between me and the stairs to help me down.

“You. Klaus. Your family,” I admit. Five scoffs.

“Yeah. My family-“

“Is wonderful.” I interrupt. He stops us, about midway down the flight of stairs. He looks up at me and we seem to have an understanding.

“Maybe they don’t want to make me gauge my eyes out… sometimes,” He admits in a voice so quiet I strain to hear him. I smile and continue down the steps.

The infirmary was in the lowest level of the house. The walls were stone and dark grey. Gourneys were lined up against the wall. Eight of them to be specific. Cabinets, cupboards, and tables decorated the walls. Supplies for any medical emergency. Probably better than any free clinic.

Mr. Hargreeves picks me up and places me carefully on top of a gourney. Klaus sits on the one across from me and Five sticks right by my side.

Grace walks in almost immediately after we settle in and I see pogo waiting in the back. Grace walks up to me and smiles brightly.

“Hello, dear. What happened?” She asks. I look down at my hands and begin to fiddle with them.

“I got hurt…”

“Oh no! How terrible. Well, dear, how did you get-“

“Get the antiseptic, Grace! Now!” Mr. Hargreeves stops her from asking the dreaded question. Grace’s eyes widen before she looks over at Mr. Hargreeves and nods. She makes her way to the supplies. “And we’ll need two wraps and some bandaids. Hurry along now!” He adds. Grace was quick to make haste and bring him all supplies he needed.

It was surprising but Klaus managed to stay decently quiet. The occasional question, whether of what his father was doing, or how I was, he asked. He often repeated questions. Mr. Hargreeves attempted to ignore him but it was becoming difficult. What added to his patience wearing thin was the swinging of Klaus’ legs that hung over the gourney. It created a loud squeaking sound. Five on the other hand stood perfectly still. Stiff, actually. His jaw was locked and his fists were clenched. He looked carefully at what Mr. Hargreeves was doing.

Mr. Hargreeves paid careful attention. He applied antiseptic on my cuts and placed bandaids over them. He had the boys turn around as he had to lift up my shirt to check my ribs. Five had respectably turned around without argue while Klaus had made some quip about how it wouldn’t bother him. His father yelled and although Klaus relented, a wickedly amused smirk danced across his face just as he danced earlier.

Mr. Hargeeeves assured me nothing was broken. Just a few very badly bruised ribs. He left my ankle for last and like my ribs, it wasn’t broken. But sprained. He wrapped both my torso and my ankle. When he had finished, he cleared his throat and stepped back. Klaus immediately jumped off of the gourney.

“So… is she all good doc?” Klaus asked, peering up at him.

“That’s Mr. Hargreeves to you,” he corrected. Klaus frowned before turning to me. “As for you, Number 8. I want you to head to the living room and ice that ankle for awhile.” He holds out his hand out and Grace places an ice pack in it. He holds it out for me to take.

“Thanks for the advice, pop, but I got her from here. I’ll take her off your hands,” Five says with a cheerey smile that was clearly forced. Five quickly takes the ice pack and grabs my hand. He creates a portal and walks through it, dragging me with him. As we move through, I can faintly hear Klaus shout a ‘wait for me.’

I was surrounded by darkness with only Fives hand to guide me. But it only lasted a moment before I was bouncing up and down, having landed already sitting down in Fives bed. I look at the sudden scenery change in shock before my eyes flicker over to Five as he carefully places the ice pack on my ankle before he begins to pace his room. I sigh.

“Five…” I trail off softly. Five stops abruptly, pointing a finger at me.

“He shouldn’t even be near you, let alone hurting you like that!” Five seethes. My shoulders sag as I realize Five had been holding that in since he saw me standing outside of the academy.

“I know,” I say just as softly. He needed to vent this out. I would too if that’s how I dealt with things.

He went back to his pacing before he would randomly stop and kick something before continuing again. I would jump every time. Five began muttering under his breath, saying something I couldn’t even comprehend before he stopped and started kicking his dresser.

“Five! Five stop it!” I shout, not being able to get up and actually stop him. He didn’t listen to me anyway, but rather kicked harder. The wood was starting to chip away. “Five, please! Stop this!”

Five whirled around to face me. “Why haven’t you ever stopped him?! You have powers for gods sakes and you won’t even use them to protect yourself?!!” Five shouts out desperately. I flinch back. His gaze immediately softens and leaves only the remnants of sadness and eagerness. He walks forward and kneels beside the bed next to me. “Why don’t you save yourself?” he whispers. Tears begin to whell up in my eyes.

“Because he’ll only hit harder if I do,” I whimper, tears freely flowing down my face. Five freezes for a moment before sprinting into action. He gets up and sits parallel to my legs on the bed. He takes me into his arms and hugs me as I cry.

“Then I’ll protect you… Sometimes we need others strength in order to gain our own. I’ll—I’ll be your strength,” Five says slowly, making sure his words came out right. Thought the tears continued to fall, I laughed through them.

“When did you become so wise?” I ask him. He shrugs in our embrace.

“I guess I’m just an old soul..”

He keeps me in his arms for a few minutes and I treasure them. Comfort from the boy I liked. Only when we both felt comforted enough to let go, did we slip away from each other. I leant back against the headboard and stared at him. He stared back, a lazy smile on his face. I softly grab his hand and squeeze.

“Promise me you won’t leave. I don’t know how I would handle life without… your sarcasm, of course,” I finish, trying not to make the laugh leaving me sound too awkward. I wanted of say so much more than I did. But I had time. I had time to say all I needed too. I just wasn’t brave enough now. A look flickered over his features before he squeezed my hand firmly.

“I promise.” He nods.

Suddenly the door slams open and Klaus crashes down onto the floor. Five and I instantly look down at Klaus who seemed fine enough just laying on Fives floor.

“What the hell guys..? Why didn’t you take me with you?!” Klaus groans dramatically. Five ignores him and instead looks back to me.

“Only sometimes,” Five says, squinting his eyes and angling his head for a moment. I laugh, shaking my head.

Five moves to sit next to me, looking down at his brother as he nonchalantly grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. Nothing could stop me from smiling, especially as we both looked down at Klaus who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor.

“Come on. Get up,” Five says.

“No.” Klaus pouts. “I’ve been banished to the floor and the floor is where I will stay.” Klaus sighs.

“Klaus? We would really like to un-banish you from the floor,” I say. Klaus peaks an eye open and up at us.

“Really?” He asks. We both nod. “Ok!” He scrambles up off the floor and jumps on the bed.

Season 1, ep 4, p1

This is sooo boring.' you thought clearly annoyed, tilting against the wall, hands behind your head. You had to accompany your uncle to this council meeting, and quite honestly it was unnecessary for you to be there, in your opinion at least. "There is a madman running around our beloved city, threatening to tear it apart. We need to create a task force whose sole mission is to find Amon and bring him to justice." Councilman Tarrlok said. "Absolutely not. A move that aggressive would only further divide benders and non benders." Tenzin defended. 

This caught your attention, and made you zone back into the conversation. "Tarrlok, I'm inclined to agree with your proposal. But who would even head up such a task force?" wondered a Fire Nation representative.  "It would be my honor and privilege to accept such a duty. " He bowed, as Tenzin stiffened. "This is just another one of your ploys to gain more power, isn't it?" the airbending master accused. "All I'm trying to do is help." shrugged the Northern Water Tribesman. "Think back, 42 years ago: Republic City was threatened by another dangerous    man--Yakone." 

Looking at his rival, he stated with a smirk, "Your father wasn't afraid to deal with him head on." "This is a completely different situation. And how dare you compare yourself to Avatar Aang!" Tenzin said through gritted teeth. "Amon is not going to stop with the bending triads. Eventually, he is going to come for all of us benders. Our friends, our families." He turned to the other council members. "Vote for this task force and I will stop Amon before it's too late. All in favor?" The other three council members raised their hands, and then all eyes turned to you, as the knew Tenzin's position. 

"Young (Y/N), what say you?" asked the Fire Nation representative. You eyed Tarrlok and your Uncle before sighing heavily. "On this task force of yours, non benders need to be included." Everyone looked at you in shock. Tarrlok sputtered. "What? That is preposterous!" You put your chair down and crossed your arms and legs.

"You both have the right idea of things. And my job here is to play mediator, making a compromise for everyone. Uncle, Tarrlok has a point that we need to show Amon that we will not bow down." The Northern Tribesman smirked at Tenzin in pride, thinking he won.  "However, Tarrlok," he looked back at you to see your (e/c) eyes glowing slightly in the light. "My Uncle does have a point that the divide between non benders and benders could stretch wider. If we were to include an equal amount of non benders into your little task force, it would show everyone that we do care about equality, and the welfare of non benders. I can assure you, if there were no non-benders on this task force, more non benders would join Amon's side and we would begin to have riots, and chaos on our hands."

The other members murmured in agreement. "Yes, he has a point, Tarrlock." said the Earth Kingdom representative.  "Very well, the task force shall include non benders." Tarrlok finalized with a bang of his gavel, before grinning at Tenzin with a sadistic grin. Everyone began to leave, and you followed your Uncle to Oogi. "Don't worry, Uncle. Things will work out just fine." You assured. 

*That Night* 

You were reading a book in the courtyard while Korra was practicing air movements, listening to the jazz music play when suddenly static interrupted  the peace. "Good evening, my fellow Equalists." Your  book dropped and Korra froze before looking at the radio. "This is your leader Amon, as you have heard the Republic Council has voted to make me public enemy number one proving once again that the bending oppressors of this city will stop at nothing to quash our revolution. But we cannot be stopped. Our numbers grow stronger by the day." 

Korra swallowed nervously, you gripped your arms close to your stomach. 'He's not here, (Y/N), you're safe. You are home.'  "You no longer have to live in fear. The time has come for benders to experience fear." The rest of his message was cut off by Nevermore casually using her tail to knock it down, causing the radio to turn off, and to snap you both out of your trance. "That was creepy." You said, picking your book and walking over to Korra. Nevermore crawling onto your shoulders. 

"Yeah, it was. Thanks Nevermore." the Avatar gave the small dragon a pat on the head, and you narrowed your eyes. "Korra, are you...okay?" You ask softly, watching her reactions. Instinctively she stiffened, sweat drops appeared on her face, and her blue eyes darted back and forth avoiding yours. "Pfft, what brought that up? I'm the Avatar! Of-" "You are also only human, Korra. Being the Avatar doesn't mean you're some type of deity or something." You put a hand on her shoulder only for her to back away abruptly. 

"People expect me to be! I expect me to be more than human.Ugh!" Korra pulled her hair in frustration. "Korra-" You started to say but she turned away from you. "Look, (Y/N), I'm need to be alone right now. See ya." With that, the Avatar was gone. You sighed running a hand through your hair, making it more wild. "Stubbornness runs hot in waterbenders, don't you think Nevermore?" The (F/c) dragon grumbled in agreement. 

*The next day*

You were walking around the town square, with a grocery list in your hand. Aunt Pema was due soon and you really didn't want her walking around with the Equalists and she wasn't in a condition to protect herself at the moment. "Well, that seems to be everything, plus a few of my favorites." You grin happily thinking of what your aunt was going to say about the junk food, before looking up to hear tires screeching and Mako taking the brunt of it and being tossed across the street. You ran over to the firebender and asked if he was okay, same time as the girl on the motor bike did. 

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" She cried running over. Mako rubbed his head, clearly annoyed. "How could you not see me? I mean I was j-juuuhh--" The ever stoic male blushed a nice shade of pink as he starred at the cute girl with the pretty green eyes looking at him with concern in her eyes. "I was...I-I--wow." He coughed into his fist. "That was--" he cleared his throat before glaring at you for snickering. "Hey Asami, long time no see." She smiled at you with a slight blush on her cheeks. 

You were well aware of her crush on you, but you weren't sure if you wanted to ruin your friendship with her. She bent down to help Mako up, while berating herself. "Did I hurt you? I'm such an idiot!" He blushed softly before getting his act together. "Don't worry, I'm fine. My brother hits me harder than that everyday in practice." Mako brushed himself off as Asami narrowed her eyes before brightening up. "Wait, I recognize you! You're Mako right? You play for the Fire Ferrets!" Mako placed his hands on his hips, trying to act cool suddenly. "Yeah that's me." 

Asami face palmed, before looking at you two with big green eyes. "I'm so embarrassed. My name is Asami." She held a hand out to the firebender, who shook it. "Let me make this up to you somehow. Uh, how about I treat you to dinner? Tomorrow night, 8:00, Kwong's Cuisine." She began to walk back to her motorbike, when Mako came back to his senses. "Uh, Kwong's? I don't have any nice enough--" You covered his mouth with your free hand, before shooting Asami a smile. "He'll be there." "So...it's a date?" Asami asked shyly.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. I'll see you tomorrow night." the ravenette shot you guys a smile over her shoulder before speeding off. Mako turned to a smirking you, with a love sick feeling on his face. "Nice, Mako." You gave a thumbs up, feeling a slight hint of jealousy, but you weren't sure why. 

*That night*

You were tapping your finger against your leg, vaguely listening to your uncle pray. "For compassion, and--" "I'm not interrupting, am I?" Everyone looked to see Tarrlok standing in the entrance with a smirk on his face. "T-This is my home, Tarrlok. We're about to eat dinner." Tenzin was subtly telling the older waterbender to leave. "Good, because I am absolutely famished." Noting the airbender's glare, his smirk widen. "Airbenders never turn away a hungry guest, am I right?" 

Tenzin sighed, clearly annoyed. "I suppose not." Pema glared at her husband who shrugged. Tarrlok walked to you and Korra. "Oh, you must be the famous Avatar Korra. It is truly an honor. I am Councilman Tarrlok, representative from the Northern Water Tribe." Korra stood up and bowed. "Nice to meet you." You  rolled your eyes at Tarrlok's behavior and grinned mischievously when Ikki slide over to the man. "Why do you have three ponytails?" She sniffed him. 

"And how come you smell like a lady? You're weird." You spit your drink out, laughing at the innocent bluntness of your cousin. "Well, aren't you....precocious?" Tarrlok's eyebrow twitched, before turning to Korra. "So, I've been reading all about your adventures in the papers. Infiltrating Amon's rally--now that took some real initiative." Korra was uncomfortable, and you were feeling even more mischievous than before. 

"Oh....thanks. I think you're the first authority figure in the city whose happy that I'm here." "Uh, do I not count?" You snap, with hurt on your face. "You know what I meant, hehe." Korra smiled sheepishly. You felt a small scaly body brush against your leg and smile. 'Nevermore.'  You ran a gloved hand over her scales gently.

"Republic City is much better off now that you've arrived." "Enough with the flattery, Tarrlok. What do you want from Korra?" demanded Tenzin. "Patience, Tenzin. I'm getting to that. As you may have heard, I am assembling a task force. I will strike at the heart of the revolution, and I want you to join me." "Really?" "What?" "Huh?" You raised an eyebrow, chewing more rice. "I need someone who will help me attack Amon directly, someone who is fearless in the face of danger, and that someone is you." 

"Join your task force?" Korra looked at you before looking down at her hands. "I can't." Tenzin and Tarrlok both looked at the Avatar shocked. Said girl coolly sipped her tea. You smirked, as Nevermore hopped on your shoulder and seemed to be smirking at Tarrlok. 

"I must admit, I'm rather surprised. I-I  thought you'd jump at the chance to help me lead the charge against Amon." "Me, too." mumbled Tenzin from across the table. "I came to Republic City to finish my Avatar training with Tenzin. Right now I just need to focus on that." "Which is why this opportunity is perfect. You would get on-the-job experience while performing your Avatar duties for the city." 

"No means no, Tarrlok." You snapped, handing Nevermore a piece of carrot. "That's right. Korra gave you her answer. It's time for you to go." Tenzin said, leaving no room for argument. Tarrlok held a hand up. "Very well, but I'm not giving up on you just yet. You'll be hearing from me very soon. It has been a pleasure of , Avatar Korra." He walked away but not before Ikki said, "Bye bye, ponytail man!" 

Tarrlok scoffed before yelping when a water line tripped him up a little. He turned to glare at you but backed up when Nevermore was suddenly in his face, growling protectively. He cleared his throat nervously before taking his leave. You chuckled, before cleaning up your spot. "Well, family. Dinner tonight was delicious and full of drama. But I need to get going; a friend of mine needs some help. Nevermore, come." Said dragon curled onto your shoulders. "Oooh are you going with your girlfriend, As--" You cut Ikki  off by tickling her, making her squeal in laughter.

*20 minutes later*

"Hey there, buddy boy. Let's get you ready for date with Asami." You pulled Mako with you into a dressing room. He was shocked when he was suddenly wearing a white long sleeve pullover, black slacks, freshly shinned shoes, and a gray overcoat. You then made him sit down and began doing his hair with gel and water. When you finished with his hair, you gently draped his scarf around his neck, and stepping back. 

"Excellent. Enjoy your dinner with Asami, Mako." You held the door open for the firebender, watching him walk away. Nevermore whined, rubbing her head against your head. "I'm okay girl. What do you say we go hang with Bolin for a little while?" Nevermore perked up; she liked the happy Earthbender but she liked playing with Pabu more. 

"Let's go, love."

Otherside

Paring: Massimo x Reader 

Word Count: 2,464

Requested By @ee101abc

Warnings: Character Death, Swearing, Fluff If You Squint, Angst .. I Think Thats It 

A/n : Im Sorry For Taking Forever In Posting But Between Running A Business, Working To Fund Said Business, And Being In School Its A Little Hard Finding The Free Time To Write But I Promise I’m Going To Find A Way, I Haven’t Forgot About You All . So Anyways I Hope You Enjoy And Sorry For Any Mistakes Seeing As To How This Version That You All Are About To Read Is The Second Time I’ve Written This Because The First One Went Poof. 

Lyrics In Bold

Flashbacks In Italics 

“Do You Ever Think That There’s Something More Out There” You Asked As You And Massimo Sat Out On One Of His Many Balconies Watching The Sun Set Out Over The Ocean.. A Sight That Was Truly Breathtaking. 

“I’m Not Sure What You Mean Principessa” You Laughed At The Quizzical Look On His Face As He Tried To Think Of  What Prompted You To Ask Such A Question

“You Know Like.. Once We Die Ya Know” 

“You Mean Heaven And Hell” He Said Causing You To Slap His Arm In A Playful Manner At The Sarcasm In His Voice 

“Yes And No.. I Just, I Feel Like There’s More Out There. Like This Wouldn’t Be The End” You Said Looking Out Onto The Horizon The Sunset Long Gone 

“Okayyy , You’ve Had Enough To Drink” He Laughed Trying To Reach Over To Take The Glass From Your Hand, Causing You To Abruptly Yank You Hand Back Spilling The Contents Of The Glass 

“Just Know Torricelli There’s More Than This” You Said Taking A Sip Of Your Drink “And When All Is Said And Done, You Will See Me On The Otherside 

5 Months Later 

Massimo Stood In His Office, Looking Out At The Sunset That You And Him Often Found Yourselves Watching Everyday. So Much Was Going Through His Head. Wondering Why You Didn’t Tell Him. If Only He Knew He Could’ve Done Something. So Caught Up In His Thoughts He Didn’t Hear Domenico And Mario Walk In Until They Spoke Up.

“Massimo.. You Cannot Stay In This Office All Day, You Have To Get Out Its Been Three Day.. She Wouldn’t Want This” Mario Said As He Went To Sit In One Of The Chairs Stationed By His Desk 

“Its My House I Will Do As I Damn Well Please”

“I Don’t Agree With Mario On A Lot Of This But He’s Right On This Mas.. This Isn’t Healthy” Domenico Said As He Cautiously Walked Over And Put His Hand On His Shoulder As A Way Of Comfort 

“I Could Have Did Something” Massimo Whispered Turning Away From Domenico As Tears Started To Fall But It Was To Late. Dom Had Already Seen Bringing Him Into A Much Needed Hug 

“There Was Nothing We Could Have Done Mas” Mario Said Standing Up And Walking Towards The Two Men Wanting To Help Comfort The Man He’s Considered A Son “She Had A Heart Condition, There Was No Way Of Us Knowing” 

If The Storm Comes 

If We Burn Up 

If The Wells Run Dry 

You’re My Reason 

To Believe In 

Another Life 

You Never Were The One To Want Peoples’ Sympathy.. Or Fake Sympathy If You Should Put It, You Never Liked The Looks Of Pity People Gave You Whenever Something Bad Happened So When You Went For Your Monthly Check Up And Your Doctor Informed You That You’re Heart Was Failing, The Current Medicine You’d Been Taking No Longer Working And That You Had At The Most Six Months Left You Chose Not To Tell Any One.. Not Wanting To Be Treated Like A Fragile Porcelain Doll For The Rest Of Your Life, Or At Least What You Have Left Of It. 

Walking Into Massimos Office Like You Owned The Place Because In Some Sense You Did, It Was Your Favorite Place In The Whole House And Massimo Couldn’t For The Life Of Him Figure Out Why; You Noticed Him On The Phone And Sat Down At One Of The Chairs In Front Of His Desk Kicking You’re Feet Up Waiting For Him To Get Done With His Call.. Not That You Were In A Rush, You Liked Being In His Presence No Matter What. 

“Sorry That Took So Long, I Wasn’t Expecting You To Drop By Today” Massimo Said Getting Off The Phone An Hour Later. His Loud Voice Causing You To Jump Out Of The Slumber You Unknowingly Slipped Into 

“Huh” You Said As You Jumped Up Causing Massimo To Laugh At Your Confused State. Getting Up To Get Himself A Drink From The Makeshift Bar He Had In The Corner Of His Office Pouring Himself A Glass Of Whiskey And Shaking The Bottle In Your Direction. A Way Of Asking If You Wanted Any, Causing You To Nod Your Head. 

“I Was Saying I Wasn’t Expecting You To Stop By Today.. I Could Have Rescheduled That Call” He Said As He Walked Over To You And Handed You Your Glass 

“There’s No Need For That Mas, You Don’t Have To Reschedule A Call For Me, Especially An Important Business Call” 

“Sciocchezze (Nonsense)” Massimo Said As He Leaned Back Against The Front Of His Desk “So How Was Your Appointment” 

“Oh You Know, Same Ol Same Ol .. Female Stuff” You Started To Say But Massimo Cut You Off Saying He’d Heard Enough Causing You To Laugh At His Displeasure In The Subject 

“So What Do I Owe The Pleasure Of Seeing You Today” 

“I Can’t Just Come And See My Bestfriend Without There Being A Reason” You Said, And If You Were Paying Attention You Would Have Noticed The Slight Falter In Massimos Smile As You Mentioned The Word Bestfriend.. But You Didn’t Caught Up In The Nervousness That You Had Only Six Months Left. Six Months On This Earth, Six Months Until You Wouldn’t Be Able To See His Beautiful Face Anymore. 

“Hey, You Okay” Massimo Reached Out To Touch You Arm, That Simple Action Bringing You Back To Reality, Back To Him 

“Im Fine” You Smiled Up At Him, Then Looked Past Him Noticing The Sun Was Starting To Set 

“You Sure Amore” He Asked Worry Clearly Written On His Face

“Yes, Now Come.. Watch The Sun Set With Me” You Said Grabbing His Hand And Dragging Him Towards The Balcony In His Office 

“Since When Do You Watch The Sun Set”

“Since Now” You Said Walking To The Couch Patting The Spot Next To You For Him To Sit “Life’s Too Short Not To Try New Things And Enjoy The Little Things 

If We Wake Up 

Lose Our Patience 

Or Even Lose Our Lives, Oh

I’ll Feel Lucky

To Say That You’ve Been 

A Friend Of Mine 

Today Was One Of Your Difficult Days, The More Time Passed The More You Had You Good And Bad Days, And Today Was Proving To Be A Bad Day But You Wouldn’t Let That Stop You There Were Things That You Needed To Get Done. First You Had To Stop Buy Your Lawyers Office To Drop Off Some Things To Give To Your Family And Massimo When The Time Came, Then You Had To Clean Out You Apartment. The Task Alone Was Proving Difficult Though Seeing As How You Needed To Sit And Rest Every Couple Of Minutes Causing You To Not Get Much Done. 

You Let Out A Frustrated Scream Throwing The Object You Had In Your Hand Across The Room Knocking Over A Random Box Full Of Stuff. You Were Tired To Say The Least And It Looked Like You Weren’t Getting Closer To Finishing Even Though You Started At Noon, And It was Now Going On Six. In The Midst Of Your Frustration You Didn’t Notice Your Front Door Opening And Closing Massimo Walking Into View Using The Spare Key You Gave Him. You Weren’t Expecting Him To Stop By, But Seeing As How You Haven’t Been By His Place In A Couple Of Days Due To Your Shortness Of Breath Now, Its Not Completely Unexpected 

“What Is Going On In Here” Massimo Said Stepping Over Box After Box Until He Reached The One Open Space You Were Currently Standing In The Middle Of “You Not Trying To Leave Me Are You Principessa” 

“I Could Never Leave You Mas” You Said As A Small Smile Ghosted You Lips, As You Though About The Double Meaning To That Line, And The Soon Inevitable. Massimo Didn’t Miss The The Look Your Face Held Either, Worry Once Again Taking Over His Face 

“I Know I Ask This A Lot But Are You Sure You’re Okay Love” 

“I’m As Good As I’ll Ever Be Torricelli” You Said Smiling Up At Him 

“What’s With All The Boxes Anyways” He Said Taking A Look Around 

“Spring Cleaning” You Said Not Bringing Yourself To Tell Him The Real Reason For Packing All Of Your Things Up 

“In The Middle Of Fall” 

“Hey, You Have To Start Sometime Right” You Said As You Started To Laugh But Soon Turned To A Fit Of Coughing So Harsh It Caused You To Stumble Over Prompting Massimo To Reach Out And Grab You Standing You Up Straight 

“You Okay Principessa” He Said Looking At You With Eyes Of Concern 

“I’m Perfect.. I Have You Hear With Me” You Smiled Up At Him.. Taking In The Man Others Feared But You Called Your Bestfriend, Secretly Wanting To Call Him More “You Know, I Feel Lucky, To Say That You’ve Been A Friend Of Mine, That I Get To Call You My Best Friend.. I Love You Mas” 

“I Love You Too Amore” 

Massimo Eventually Left His Office, Only Moving To His Bed Room But It Was Still Progress. He Just Couldn’t Believe That The Last Words He’d Spoken To You Were “I Love You Too Amore”. If Only You’d Told Him Sooner, Why Didn’t You Tell Him Sooner. He Went To Your House That Day With The Intent Of Telling You How He Truly Felt But He Never Got The Chance. 

You Had Soon Erupted Into Another Coughing Fit The Second Worse Than The First Causing You To Clench At Your Chest And Massimo Eventually Rush You To The Nearest Emergency Room. If Only You’d Told Him, He Would Have Gave You The Best Doctors Money Could By, They Could Have Saved You He Thought. He Would Have Told You That When He Said He Loved You, He Meant It With Every Fiber Of His Being.. And He Would Have Found Out That You Recuperated Those Feelings. 

So Caught Up In His Thoughts He Ignored The Open And Close Of His Room Door Continuing To Stare Up At His Ceiling

“Something Came For You Today” Domenico Said Approaching The Side Of Massimos Bed 

“ I Don’t Care” 

“Its A Letter Fr-” Dom Started To Say But Was Cut Off By Massimo

“I Said I Don’t Give A Damn” He Growled 

Knowing His Friend Is Going Through A Lot Right Now, As They All Are Because You Worked Your Way Into All Of Their Hearts, He Understood The Frustration 

“Its From Yn” Domenico Continued To Say Causing Massimo To Look Over At Him “I Get If You Don’t Want To Read It Right Now, Just Know Its Right Here” 

And With That Domenico Put The Letter On The Nightstand And Left The Room. He Was Hesitant At First But After A Couple Of Minutes Massimo Sat Up And Reached For The Letter, Rubbing His Fingers Over The Envelope Before Ripping It Open, Taking A Moment To Admire Your Hand Writing. Taking A Deep Shaky Breath, He Unfolded The Letter And Started Reading What Was Now Clear Your Last Words To Him  

Dear Massimo, 

     By The Time You Get This Letter, It Will Have Been Three Days After My Funeral. I Know That You Are Probably Held In Your Office Or Room, Drinking Your Life Away Blaming Yourself For This, But It Is Not Your Fault. It Is No One’s Fault. This Is How Things Were Meant To Be And I’ve Came To Terms With That. I Know You Have So Many Questions As To Why This Happened Why I Didn’t Tell You, And I’m Sorry I Didn’t.. I Guess I had My Own Selfish Reasons For Keeping This From You. But To Give You The Explanation You Deserve, I’ve Had A Heart Condition For A Little Over 4 Years Now. I’ve Been On Tons Of Different Medications To Try And Sedate My Condition, But As Time Went On My Condition Worsened And The Medications Stopped Working. I Don’t Want You To Blame Yourself For This, I Don’t Want You To Shut People Out, I Know This Will Be Hard For You, Its Hard For Me Just Writing This Letter. But You Are Massimo Fucking Torricelli, My Bestfriend And The Man I Fell In Love With, And You Will Get Through This.. And When You Time Comes.. You Will See Me Again 

                                                                          Love, Yn

As He Got Done Reading The Letter, He Didn’t Even Realize He Was Crying Again. As He Was About To Lay Back Down Massimo Felt A Breeze, Turning To Get Up So He Could Close His Balcony Door, He Stopped Dead In His Tracks At The Sight In front Of Him. 

Dressed In This Beautiful All White Dress That Just Seemed To Flow Endlessly, And Skin Glowing Stood, His Bestfriend, The Woman He Loved But Never Got To Tell. Goddess Doesn’t Even Begin To Compare To How She Looked. Shocked And Confused As To What He Was Seeing, He Stood There, Afraid To Move, Scared That What He Was Seeing Would Disappear 

“I- .. How” Massimo Stammered.. Feet Still Glued To The Spot As You Walked Closer To Him “How Are You Here Right Now” 

“It Doesn’t Matter How, All That Matters Is That I Am” 

“I Miss You So Much Principessa” Massimo Said As He Reached To Touch Your Face Shocked That His Hand Didn’t Just Fall Through Your Figure “There Is So Much I Need To Tell You.. I Don’t Know If I Can Do This Without You” 

“I Know I Know.. And That Time Will Come” You Said As Your Hand Graced The Side Of His Face As Did His On Yours “And You Don’t Have To Explain Anything I Know” 

“I Wish There Was Something I Could Have Done” He Whispered 

“There Was Nothing You Could Do, Nor Me But Except It” You Said Looking Up At Him “So I Need You To Be Strong For Me Okay” 

“I Don’t Want You To Leave” He Said Placing His Forehead Against Yours And Closing His Eyes.. Taking In Your Embrace 

“Hey” You Said Causing Him To Open His Eyes To Look At You “This Isn’t The End, Let Me Be Your Reason To Believe In Another Life”

“I Love You Mi Amore”

Taking The Chance To Kiss Him Before You Disappeared You Leaned Up And Connected Your Lips With His, Massimo Not Rejecting Eagerly Kissed Back, But After A Couple Of Moments He Started To Fell Your Once Solid Figure Fad Away. Opening His Eyes He Noticed You Smiling At Him But The Image Of You Getting Lighter 

“Don’t Leave”  He Whispered 

“Best Believe Me, You Will See Me On The Otherside” 

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

Based On The Song Otherside By Beyonce 

Authors Note: Whew ... Yall It Is Currently 3:47am ... I Was Determined To Get This Out For Yall.. I Hope You Enjoy And Feedback Is Greatly Appreciated . So Please Let Me Know If You Guys Enjoyed It And More Imagines Will Be Coming Soon. 

Taglist: @nebulastarr @posiemax @mjaudrey @akshi8278​ 

"Oh the world will sing of a Storm King a thousand years from now. And not because he passed some laws or had that lofty brow while bonny good King Aegon leads the great crusade he's on. We'll all have to slave away for that good-for-nothin' Robert! Incredible as he is inept whenever the history books are kept, they'll call him the phony king of Storm's End. A pox on the phony king of Storm's End. A puppet on a string and he throws an angry tantrum if he cannot have his way. Too late to be known as Robert the First. He's sure to be known as Robert the worst. A pox on that phony king of Storm's End", sang Jaskier in Harrenhal.

Myrcella, Joffrey, Tommen, Margaery, Arya, Gendry, Sansa, Rhaenys, Aegon, Robb, Jon, Geralt, Daenerys, Ciri and Yennefer applauded, "a pox on the phony king of Storm's End!"

The scribes crossed Robert the First from the books and wrote Robert the Worst from Storm's End.

"A true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart", said Yennefer to Jon.

Harrenhal: Independence for the Kingdoms at the end of Robert's Rebellion when Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark fell in love. Elia and Lyanna fall in love in Harrenhal. Rhaegar's victory over Robert Baratheon when he proclaimed independence and destroyed the Iron Throne with the wildfire. Rhaegar has to avoid the Trident, he has no chance against Robert in the open field. Rhaegar must intervene in King's Landing. Rhaegar removes Aerys from the throne when he demands the head of Brandon and Rickard Stark and locks Aerys away on Dragonstone. Rhaegar, Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy, Lewyn Martell and Gerold Hightower entered the Red Keep, "Aerys Targaryen! Come down from the Iron Throne! I'm capturing you for the attempted murder of Rickard and Brandon Stark! I am placing you under house arrest on Dragonstone. I will send you doctors and Rhaella will visit you from time to time to make sure of your condition", said Rhaegar.

Lord Commander Gerold Hightower refuses to take further orders from Aerys. Gerold Hightower files a petition against Aerys for insanity

The knights handcuffed Aerys. Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower drew their swords, "the guard arrests Aerys Targaryen! If you refuse to come down from the Iron Throne, we will use violence. We refuse to take further orders from you."

Rhaella watched Aerys scream insanely, "I burn you all", Lyanna and Elia hugged each other stormily. Barristan Selmy led Aerys away in chains, "Dragonstone is waiting for you Aerys."

The soldiers attached cranes and ropes to the Iron Throne and tore it from the throne room, "bring the throne to the furnaces and melt it down with the wildfire."

As soon as Rhaegar moves to the Trident he is dead. Rhaegar puts down the rebellion as Robert stands at the Trident. At that moment Rhaegar Targaryen declares independence for the kingdoms. The Trident becomes a death trap for Rhaegar. Varys, Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower, Elia, Lyanna, Rhaella, the people cheered loudly when Rhaegar proclaimed the Declaration of Independence. "I, Rhaegar Targaryen hereby restore the Kingdoms to independence. I give sovereignty to all kingdoms. The Iron Throne is gone. I'm no king of Westeros!"

Rhaegar Targaryen crushes the rebellion. The bells rang for the Declaration of Independence in King's Landing. The news spread like a wildfire through Westeros, "Independence for the kingdoms!"

A big wonderful family

Ciri looked wide-eyed when she saw the fortress, "Dragon fire. A blown ruin. The fortress needs to be repaired", Jon, Yennefer, Daenerys, and Geralt nodded, "Aegon the Conqueror burned Harrenhal. Harren the black thought Harrenhal was his legacy, Ciri. The fortress was built to withstand 500,000 soldiers. But when dragon fire came he died in his own halls. Harren and Aegon the Conqueror were tyrants", and Ciri nodded, "Aegon the Conqueror built the wheel."

Jon's tremendous empathy: A general's yardstick. The son is more powerful than his father. Jon's magical ability: control of fire and ice to freezer burn. Lyanna teaches Jon how to reason properly

"The armies have found their general, they would follow him to death. When Jon speaks correctly, massive armies will answer his call. Tyrants bow their knees before him. He knows things", thought Yennefer and Lyanna as they looked at Jon.

Conscription: The shining hero and general for armies: A born general, soldier, commander and leader: Jon resigns from the Night's Watch and becomes general of the armed forces of Winterfell and King's Landing, replacing Rodrik Cassel and Gerold Hightower: A military career for Jon Stark. Live to love and love to live! Don't live to work, don't work to live.

"Interesting. The more penises on a uniform, the higher the rank", Medals from wolves, fishes, three-headed dragons, snakes were on the uniform. Ciri, Jaskier, Daenerys, Elia, Lyanna and Yennefer looked at the badges on their armors.

Brynden Tully and Petyr Baelish patted Jon and Geralt on their shoulders, "a picture for tomorrow's newspaper."

An artist painted a Photo of Jon, Geralt, Petyr Baelish and Brynden Tully.

"Jon Stark and Geralt of Rivia on par with Randyll Tarly", it said in the newspaper. Petyr Baelish's new newspaper from Westeros. And it was a box office hit. People bought Petyr Baelish's newspapers with gusto.

Jon's vow: "I am a soldier, general, commander. I wear a uniform. I am a born soldier and warrior. I swore to change Westeros", thought Jon in Harrenhal. Yennefer examined him carefully, "Empathy is always the key, Jon."

He looked at her, "get out of my head honey."

Yennefer laughed out loud and kissed him, "Sorry never happens again. I'm a good wife, please don't punish me. I am submissive too."

Lyanna caught Jon and Yennefer making out, "I should have known that I would catch my daughter-in-law and my son kissing wildly. Move your asses. If you two want to fuck, find a bed", Lyanna said, slapping both of them on the buttocks. Yennefer giggled, "yes mum", Lyanna smiled, "be glad I let you get away with so much", Yennefer and Jon kissed her cheek, "you're the best", Lyanna smiled, "oh that's nice of you two. You said that really nicely."

A new office created by Rhaegar Targaryen: Director Tissaia de Vries, Director of the Elite Guard

Rodrik Cassel, Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower and Tissaia smiled when they saw Jon and Yennefer, "Lord Commander we greet you. Ah the Commander of the Night's Watch and the sorceress are here. Have you chosen your successor yet, Jon", Jon nodded, "Dolorous Edd will be my successor."

Jon and Yennefer hugged Sansa and Aegon, "the two political geniuses have arrived. The King and Queen of King's Landing", Jon and Yennefer hugged Robb and Rhaenys, "the king and queen of the north are here", the six went to dinner and Sansa put a banana in Aegon's mouth, "swallow and don't spit, Egg", Sansa kissed him and he swallowed the banana.

Tissaia leaned over to Yennefer, "will you give me some of the pie", Yennefer looked at Tissaia, "what's the magic word?"

Tissaia shrugged, "but Pronto", Rhaegar, Eddard, Gerold Hightower and Arthur Dayne laughed out loud.

Gendry's steep career in the craft: A born craftsman: The blacksmith of King's Landing and Cintra and his two beauties: Gendry doesn't want anything to do with Robert Baratheon and is suing him for maintenance. Elia Martell and Lyanna Stark the lawyers and they drag the Storm King to court. Mya, Gendry, Edric and Bella are suing Robert Baratheon for maintenance costs

Ciri and Arya got dressed and kissed Gendry, "you ruined our pussies, we are sore and can barely walk straight. Tomorrow we'll be sore between our legs", Ciri, Arya and Gendry came out of rooms as they faced Eddard, Geralt and Jon, "oh fuck we can explain that."

Geralt, Ned and Jon grabbed Gendry, "did you fuck them both well?"

Gendry nodded, "with the heat of a stag. The two of them can't get enough of my hammer. Arya howled like a she-wolf and Ciri groaned after Mummy."

Ned patted his shoulder encouragingly, "very good Gendry."

Arya and Ciri rolled their eyes, "Gendry Baratheon!"

Geralt and Jon looked at Ciri and Arya, "didn't you think the joke was funny", Gendry and Eddard laughed aloud.

Ciri and Arya looked at Gendry, "your mother was a dumb whore with a fat arse. Did you know that", Gendry smiled cynically, "and you two could use a breastplate stretcher."

Ciri and Arya looked at him with their mouths open, "did you call us fat? Next time you can jerk yourself off!"

Sansa, Rhaenys, Yennefer, Daenerys, Lyanna and Catelyn laughed aloud, "yeah girls. The men sometimes have no manners, don't listen to them."

Jon, Eddard and Geralt gave Gendry a high five, "Well done Gendry."

"Have a drink in advance, food will be ready in a moment", said Elia and Lyanna, sticking a spoon of soup in Rhaegar's mouth, "Try", Rhaegar nodded, "it tastes great. You two have outdone yourself once more", Lyanna and Elia giggled, "Rhaegar Targaryen can be so diplomatic at times", Oberyn and Eddard looked at Rhaegar, "Crawler." Rhaegar shrugged, "if it works", Sansa, Ellaria, Jon, Oberyn, Yennefer, Elia, Eddard, Catelyn, Lyanna, Rhaegar, Aegon, Rhaenys, Robb laughed aloud.

Yennefer and Jon hugged Brandon, Ashara, and Rickard, "we missed you. You came from Starfall. How things are going with Ashara?"

"Have you laid her flat yet", asked Brandon to Jon. Yennefer rolled her eyes, "it was clear that this question comes from you."

Lyanna, Catelyn, Ashara, and Eddard looked at him, "Brandon Stark", Jon nodded, "More than once", Brandon smiled, "That's my nephew. Never too shy to take what he wants. Bang her hard Jon", Rickard laughed out loud.

Seven Stark children

Karhold: Rickard Karstark hugged Edric and Alys, "look at you, Karstarks and Starks belong together. Do you like Starfall, Alys", she nodded, "it's wonderful, Ashara is awesome", Edric leaned over to Alys, "he's always been an asshole", Alys giggled, "oh yeah."

Brandon smiled, "oh it's going perfectly with Ashara. Alys and Edric will come with us next time. The two are on their way to Karhold."

Ashara took Yennefer with her, "my nephew Jon has good taste in women. Tissaia, you must be very proud of Yennefer that she is so successful", Tissaia nodded, "she is a good girl."

Rhaella Targaryen's memories of the Targaryen Kings on the Iron Throne: Jon's paternal grandmother

Stories from bygone times, a three hundred year old dynasty.

Regular visits for Aerys by Viserys, Rhaenys, Aegon, Rhaegar, Jon, Robb, Yennefer, Elia, Lyanna, Rhaella, Daenerys, Geralt, Sansa, Brandon, Ashara, Ciri and Rickard Stark. Doctors from Sunspear and Oldtown are providing medical treatment for Aerys Targaryen.

"Do you still know who I am grandfather", asked Jon, Aerys shook his head, "i am your grandson Jon. You showed me the big map of Westeros and we ran against each other on the beach, you always let me win."

And Aerys nodded.

Yennefer and Jon helped Aerys get up and Yennefer gave him medicine and Rickard changed the sheets, "this is for your heart condition. Jon and I wanted to take you for a walk on the beach of Dragonstone. We're spending some time with our grandson, Jon's wife brought wonderful soup and homemade bread. How does that sound, Aerys? It smells wonderful."

And Aerys nodded.

Yennefer and Jon smiled and she gave him some soup, "I am Yennefer. I am happy to see you Aerys. I got the recipe from my mother when she was still alive. You could run a marathon Aerys", Rickard laughed out loud, "oh how does that sound Aerys? A marathon would be great", and there was a smile on Aerys as if to say yes.

Aerys Targaryen the last Targaryen king on the Iron Throne when Rhaegar removed his father and destroyed the throne. A heart condition in Aerys Targaryen. Loss of language. Loss of motor skills. Bedridden. Alzheimer's disease at Aerys Targaryen

Aerys Targaryen dies of a heart attack 25 years after the Rebellion. Aerys Targaryen buried in the Red Keep where the Iron Throne stood

Geralt as commander of the forces of Dragonstone.

Diane Kruger as Queen Mother Rhaella Targaryen, 60 the new 40: Niece of Maester Aemon Targaryen, mother of Rhaegar, Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, Widow of the late Aerys Targaryen on Dragonstone, whom she survived by 40 years. Death of Rhaella Targaryen in King's Landing at the age of 100

Rhaella grabbed Geralt by the neck, "so you're banging with my Dany yeah? I wish I was young again. You have to be Ciri, the lion cub of Cintra. Calanthe's granddaughter."

Ciri curtsied, "Cintra, Aedirn, Temeria and the Northern Kingdoms send you their greetings, Foltest and Virfuril send greetings. I am happy to meet the Queen Mother Rhaella Targaryen. You saw the Targaryen kings on the Iron Throne."

Rhaella smiled, "oh that thing was just shitty and ugly. That thing could have been thrown in the trash and I wouldn't have cared. I haven't seen anything more beautiful than the Iron Throne burned greenish through the wildfire. The Targaryen were refugees from Valyria, Aegon and his sisters could have lived here in peace, but instead Aegon was a conqueror and tyrant. You see what he did to Harrenhal, Ciri, a blasted ruin. Aegon built the wheel as we knew it when he subjugated the Kingdoms and Balerion's fires forged the Iron Throne. Aegon the Conqueror was no better than Harren the Black when he brought firestorms", Ciri nodded.

Daenerys looked at her, "mum. You can live another 40 years."

Rhaella laughed, "oh you know Dany I look in the mirror in the morning and say to myself: that's just the way it is. Oh, I was good back then", Geralt and Ciri laughed aloud. Daenerys smiled, "mum, this is Geralt", Geralt swallowed and nodded, "Dany fucks me in every imaginable position. She already fucked me on Drogon's back."

Ciri kicked his shin, "careful daddy. The witcher models for his Khaleesi."

Rhaella laughed aloud and stroked his hair, "he's got beautiful silver hair, Dany. Don't you think Ciri", Ciri and Daenerys laughed when Geralt blushed, "definitely."

"You were so cute Lyanna when you cried in Harrenhal when Rhaegar played the harp", said Benjen.

Lyanna poured wine over Benjen's head, "I think you're familiar with it Benjen."

Rhaella, Arthur, Gerold, Tissaia, Ashara, Brandon, Rickard, Eddard, Catelyn, Geralt, Ellaria, Daenerys, Yennefer, Ciri, Elia, Rhaenys, Rhaegar, Aegon, Sansa, Robb, Arya, Gendry, Jon, Oberyn laughed out loud.

A life in the shadow of Rhaegar Targaryen: Robert Baratheon, who never came out of the shadow of his adversary for the rest of his life. Robert's mistake: Incompetence, these are the types of people who fail every interview. Robert's lack of respect for others. The incompetent Lord of Storm's End: At Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister laughed out loud, "oh the Storm King has always been incompetent, a bad king, a drunkard and a thug."

Jaskier collapsed laughing when he saw Robert. Margaery pulled Jaskier up, "I'm sorry Storm King, my husband has never seen a fat pig", Trystane, Shireen, Mya, Bella, Edric, Myrcella, Tommen and Joffrey collapsed laughing. Jaskier laughed out loud, "haha haha such a fat pig."

Rhaegar always wins regardless of the outcome. Rhaegar's insurmountable power, a father's love for Jon, Aegon and Rhaenys. Eddard Stark, second father for Jon.

"I have to reinvent myself", said Rhaegar in his melancholy.

Lyanna and Elia looked at him, "renewal is cool. No need for melancholy, honey", and he kissed the two women.

Lyanna and Elia as successful lawyers. Rhaegar as a successful politician. "Lyanna is so wise", Elia thought.

"Elia is so great", thought Lyanna. "Rhaegar is such a strong father", thought the two.

Three successful characters in life: Determination, powerful, wisdom, respectful interaction, sustainability, renewal, loud, wild, dark, sad, feared, beautiful, sunshine, beloved, risky, elegant, dreamy

Rhaegar's respectful treatment of the mothers of his children. The mothers of his three children: Rhaegar's love for two women. Elia's and Lyanna's love for the father of their children. Wilf Scolding as Rhaegar Targaryen, Freida Pinto as Elia Martell and Megan Fox as Lyanna Stark

In Storm's End, a heavily indebted Robert Baratheon cursed the incompetent Storm Lord who wants to drink himself in his grave so that others can do his shit, "damn shit Rhaegar always wins. I don't want to be Storm King! I want to drink myself in the grave! I want to go to a brothel next to a marriage! I hate you Rhaegar Targaryen! You wouldn't stand a chance against me in a fight! You only won because you declared independence and burned the Iron Throne. I hate Martells, Lannisters, Targaryens. I hate that the Starks are kings and queens in the north. Elia took Lyanna away from me, how am I supposed to fight a woman. You and your smelly ex-wife this dornish bitch dishonored me."

Elia and Lyanna giggled in Harrenhal, "Lyanna's pussy is mine. Rhaegar's cock is ours. He eats our pussies like a hungry dragon", Lyanna and Elia looked at Rhaegar as the two women kissed, "Do you want to watch or participate?"

Rhaegar sat down, "Oh, I'll watch first." Lyanna and Elia giggled. "He wants to see a show."

Robert Baratheon insults Jon and Geralt

Ciri and Arya were standing by Gendry's shop in King's Landing as they looked at the gate. Gendry wiped the sweat from his chest and looked toward the gate, "Look at who we have there. The fat Storm Lord", Jon and Geralt leaned over the horses when Robert Baratheon came into the capital.

Ciri and Arya stood next to Gendry so demonstratively that they caressed his muscles when Robert came to the capital, "look at this Gendry, Robert ignores his own children", said Ciri and Arya and Gendry nodded, "he has always ignored me, Mya, Bella and Edric."

"You still owe your children 15,000 coins for maintenance", called Sansa, Arya and Ciri to Robert.

Yennefer, Daenerys, Sansa and Aegon were visiting the cavalry when they saw Robert, "oh look at that thing."

The cavalry with banners of the Starks, Martells and Targaryens laughed at the Storm King loudly, Jon and Geralt did not make any facial expressions when Robert rode past them. He looked at the laughing, heavily mounted riders, "no decency in the army. I'll kill you dragonspawn! And this mutant Witcher fucks a Targaryen cunt and is named Targaryen by marriage."

Jon stopped Geralt from drawing his sword, "no stop Geralt."

Yennefer, Ciri, Daenerys stopped Geralt, "Calm down Geralt, breath deep."

Geralt roared, "He insulted me and my best friend!"

Jon and Geralt bully Robert

Jon and Geralt looked at Robert, "welcome to King's Landing Lord Baratheon. You don't respect us so they laugh at you. They laugh at the Storm King who is too fat for his own horse", answered Geralt and Jon.

Jon formed fire and ice magic in his hands, "fire or ice, Lord Baratheon?"

Geralt and Jon looked at each other briefly. Jon formed ice in his hands and shot a snowball in Robert's face, "Winter is coming Lord Baratheon! You have enough fat for a whole garrison."

Aegon, Gendry, Geralt, Tyrion, Daenerys, Arya, Ciri, Sansa, and Yennefer collapsed laughing, "you two are right."

Rhaegar sat on the horse, "Geralt, Jon, Randyll Tarly invited the three of us to Horn Hill. The defense minister wants to speak to the generals."

Rhaegar, Jon and Geralt looked at Ciri, "don't laugh about Robert, Ciri."

She nodded, "I try hard."

The riders and the people in the streets burst out laughing that Robert Baratheon immediately disappeared from the capital. Tyrion looked at Jon and Geralt, "may I wave goodbye to him, generals", Geralt and Jon nodded and Tyrion waved after Robert. Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower, Jon, Geralt and Rhaegar rode out of the capital with cavalry. The children were amazed at the mounted armed forces, "we want to serve in armies later."

"They laughed at me, Ned", said Robert to Eddard in Riverrun.

Brandon, Ashara, Edmure, Roslin, Catelyn, Robb, and Rhaenys rolled their eyes, "ask yourself why."

Ned got up, "you've been laughed at all the time, but you're too drunk to realize it. You got yourself into this shit all by yourself. Rhaegar has nothing to do with that. The Iron Throne has been gone for years, Aerys has passed away, the kingdoms are independence. You are a grown man. I am sending you to the Citadel in Oldtown to fight your alcoholism. My foster son, whom you call dragonspawn, never laughed at you. Geralt, Daenerys, Ciri, Arya, Gendry and Jon's wife Yennefer aren't laughing at you because Jon is stopping them, Robert. Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer would have laughed at you long ago. Ciri doesn't laugh at you because Jon is a father to her too. Cirilla would have blown your brain away with her scream long ago she only listens to Geralt and Jon who are neutral."

Rhaenys, Robb, Elia and Lyanna left the room.

Robert roared, "Lyanna was mine! My ego gives me a right to a woman's body!"

Eddard yelled back, "I dare to doubt that your ego gives you a right to a woman's body! Oh are you a victim of bullying by Jon and Geralt? Forgive me Robert if I don't shed a tear for you. Oh poor Lord of Storm's End! How old are you Robert? Are you a little kid complaining about how unfair it is? Ask yourself why they are bullying you.

I can also scream, unattractive pig who makes himself dependent on others! Incapable king who believes Lyanna is power! You don't even know that your son Gendry, has a reasonable relationship with Ciri and Arya."

Catelyn kissed Ned, "Very good Ned. You heard Eddard, Robert. Go to the citadel."

Horn Hill: Randyll Tarly's boss mode. Horn Hill Secretary of Defense

Randyll was reading the newspaper over Starbucks coffee. Randyll Tarly shooed Melessa, Talla, Dickon, Sam, Gilly, through the rooms.

"I have distinguished visitors and I want everything to be in good condition! I have to finish the reports, balance sheets, and army reports. My two generals Jon and Geralt are coming to visit. I need the medals of House Tarly. Now!"

Melessa, Sam, Dickon, Gilly and Talla groaned, "you are a slave driver!"

Randyll sat down and signed documents and roared through the rooms, "I can no longer watch you work your way off, finally close the kitchen door!"

Sam and Dickon looked at each other, "the boss is in his element."

Randyll roared again, "I have heard that! And I didn't want Starbucks coffee! What madness is this? Where is the staff? Incapable staff everywhere! I can't work properly like this!"

Emilia Clarke, Anya Chalotra and Freya Allan ran away laughing, "we couldn't resist."

First Impressions // Chapter 3

Fandom: Servamp Ship: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side), Tetsono (side), Jekuni (side) Characters: Hyde, Licht, Kuro, Mahiru

Summary: After Licht meets the wealthy bachelor, Hyde, she was certain that she could never be friends with him. Their paths continues to cross and she slowly comes to know him. Licht wonders if she judged him too quickly. (LawLicht, Pride and Prejudice AU, Fem Licht)

Ch.1 // Ch.2 // (Ch.3) //

Mikuni didn’t bother to knock on Misono’s bedroom door before she entered. The room was dark but she had to note that smoke lingered over the candle as if the fire was recently doused. She turned away from the candle and looked to her sisters sleeping on the floor of Misono’s room. The sight reminded her of their childhood where they would make forts and tents to camp on the ground.

She could easily conclude that her sisters were pretending to sleep so they wouldn’t have to start their morning chores. The sun was only beginning to rise so Mikuni didn’t see a reason to wake them. The amber hue of sunrise was tainted with grey rain clouds. They had time before the rooster would wake the town. She knelt next to her sisters and adjusted the blanket over them. Her eyes fell onto the book next to Licht’s pillow, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

When they returned from the party, Mahiru suggested the sisters sleep in the same room and read the play Licht had brought for Misono. Mikuni knew that the suggestion was to lift Misono’s spirits after their mother’s hurtful words so Mikuni agreed. Her only condition was for them to sleep before midnight because they needed to wake early to care for the horses.

She had to finish the bookkeeping for the night so she told them to sleep first. Since they attended the ball, Mikuni stayed up later than she usually would. She was disappointed that she fell asleep in her office and missed the sleepover with her sisters. She placed the play on the desk and lit the candle again. “I know you’re merely pretending to be asleep, Ladies. While I was walking down the hall, I could hear you three reading the play. It’s not good for your eyesight to read in the dark.”

“Then we shall switch from reading the play to discuss our new neighbours? Licht told us that Hyde was the one to suggest the comedy.” Misono said and gestured for Mikuni to lay down with them. Despite how Mikuni knew it would be more responsible to start the day, she settled onto a pillow instead. “Perhaps we shall see them if we go to the theater. Mahiru will have the opportunity to speak with Kuro again.”

“Mother has voiced her approval of them due to their wealth but I dare say we must protect each other from them. We cannot trust them. Hyde called Mahiru mad when she is clearly an angel! He also bribed the mayor to sneak into the library.” Even as she spoke, Licht thought of her talk with Hyde earlier that night. She rolled onto her stomach and stared out the window to Hanafield manor in the morning light. “There is also their brother who lives in the town under a false name. Who do you think he is?”

“Kuro said his brother has his reasons to hide their family name. We shouldn’t pry. They aren’t a traditional noble family but we shouldn’t judge them. Our peers would say we’re far from conventional women and we know how hurtful it is to be called such.” Mahiru reminded them. The four sisters each had their own passion and they wanted to do more with their skills than call it a hobby. “People are far too complex to judge who they are after only one meeting.”

Mahiru thought of Kuro and pulled her blanket to her lips to hide her grin. She was certain her sisters would tease her for the budding crush. “At first glance, Kuro appears to be the perfect lord with how handsome he is. He can’t dance though. He stepped on my feet several times but his effort was so earnest and charming that I accepted another dance when he asked. I’ve never danced so much in a night.”

“All the mothers at the ball must’ve been jealous of you for catching Lord Ash’s fancy. I’m certain he spent half the night dancing with you. The rest of the night, he spent smiling at you. I would venture to say he’s smitten with you, Mahiru.” Mikuni laughed.

Heavy knocks pounded on the wall and it startled them. Licht instinctively placed her hand on Misono’s shoulder to protect her younger sister. She relaxed when Sakura’s voice travelled through the wall. “I’m trying to sleep! Quiet down!”

“Sakura does have a point. It’ll be better to continue our conversation while we do the morning chores. We won’t be bothering the ones still asleep.” Mahiru said and sat up. “We can’t waste the morning. The stable hands will come soon and I want to make something warm for them to eat. Will you help me, Misono? You can give something special to Tetsu.”

“What? Why would you mention Tetsu specifically in such a way? I don’t have any feelings for him.” Misono insisted with a bright blush.

“Oh, don’t be so upset. Mahiru is teasing you about your crush on Tetsu because you brought up her crush on Kuro earlier.” Mikuni laughed when both of her sisters tried to deny her feelings. She stood and placed the pillows back onto the bed. They cleaned the room and Licht’s eyes fell onto the play Hyde gave her. She made a note to herself to return the book to the library.

She wondered if she would see him once again since he appeared to enjoy reading. Hyde’s teasing grin from the day they met contradicted the soft smile he had at the library. He had heard their mother insult Misono and intended to ask her to dance. She didn’t know if he was motivated by pity or compassion. But the thoughtfulness in his red eyes made her heart stumble for a reason she couldn’t need. Licht cared for her sister and she was happy to see someone treat them kindly.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t stop picturing his face. Licht pulled her thoughts away from the man and she followed her sisters out the door. They went through their morning routine. Their family’s wealth was modest so they couldn’t afford a robust staff to care for the house. The sisters loved the aging building and they would help the staff maintain the home of their memories.

There was a knock on the front door and Licht glanced at the time. It was far too early for their stable hands to arrive and they would usually knock on the back door. Licht answered the door but she didn’t recognize the man on the other side. He bowed politely to her and held out a letter. “Good morning. I am the footman for the Servamps and they asked me to deliver you this invitation.”

“Thank you.” Licht was surprised by the invitation but she took the letter into her hand. She closed the door and she carried the letter to her sisters. She tore off the seal and opened it to skim the words. Mikuni was the first one to notice her reading.

“What is that?” Mikuni asked and looked over her shoulder. “The Servamps are inviting us to morning tea? I didn’t think we had made such a good impression on them to do such. The letter names all of us but my intuition tells me that this is clearly meant for Mahiru. The letter mentions that it was a pleasure to dance and she was the only one to dance with a Servamp.”

“I would love to have tea with the family.” Mahiru took the letter and searched for the line Mikuni mentioned. She smiled to herself once she found it. Then, she folded the letter and placed it on the counter. “But we will be far too busy to pay them a visit. I need to work with the staff to plan for Haruto’s visit next week. Mikuni will be too occupied with the family business to do so.”

“I’m sure Misono can handle the horses while I arrange everything for our cousin.” Mikuni waved away her protest. “Misono has been working with me and the family business for a year now and she can handle it for the day. If you want to go, you can without worrying about us. Do you want to attend the morning tea as well, Licht?”

“Since we went to the party last night, I wasn’t able to practise my piano like I usually would. I planned to compensate for that time by practising an extra two hours today.” Licht could see how excited Mahiru was by the invitation and added: “I would go to protect Mahiru from that demon but his siblings will be there. She should be safe having tea with them.”

“Thank you.” Mahiru beamed a smile at her sisters and held the letter close to her chest. “We would sneak into Hanafield’s garden and play. This will be my first time inside the manor. I will ask them to invite you three another time so you can see it as well. I’m so excited. Oh, we should tell mother and have the carriage prepared before the rain starts.”

Mahiru placed the letter in her pocket as she left the kitchen to tell their mother. She quickly found her in the drawing room and she sat across from her. “Mother, I have been invited to have morning tea. May I take the carriage to visit them? They live next to us but the distance is too far to walk.”

“I have already promised Sakura that we would take the carriage to town and watch the officers enter town. There shall be a parade! She’s so excited to meet a soldier and I hope the weather doesn’t postpone the parade.” Her mother took Mahiru’s hand and patted it gently. She didn’t feel her mother’s warmth after she said: “We have thirty horses and you can ride one to visit your friend for tea. I need the carriage.”

“I understand, Mother.” Mahiru nodded to her. She told herself to look forward to having tea with the Servamps and the opportunity to speak with Kuro again.

“Is this the file that you were looking for, Misono?” Licht asked and held out the folder to her. While she wasn’t as business minded like Mikuni, she did her best to help when Misono asked for her assistance. Mikuni said she trusted her with the family’s business but she felt a little uncertain. She was happy to have Licht’s support. “Perhaps I can bring the piano into the office to play a song to motivate you.”

“You’re a strong angel but I doubt you can carry the pianoforte up the stairs. Even if you did, you’ll leave drag marks on the ground and Mahiru will scream the moment she sees that.” They laughed as they pictured Mahiru’s reaction. She glanced out the window and she noted how heavy the rain had become. “Mahiru hasn’t returned from morning tea yet. Do you think the mud has slowed the carriage?”

As if to answer their question, Mikuni entered the room clutching a letter. Licht immediately knew that something was amiss by her pale face. “The Servamps sent us a message. Mahiru has fallen sick with a cold. She rode a horse to their manor and it started to rain during the last mile of the journey. They’re treating her cold but the doctor says it might take the night for her to recover.”

“Mahiru should know better than to ride a horse in this weather. What on earth would persuade her to do so?” Licht took the letter from her sister. She knew Mikuni would never lie about Mahiru’s condition but she was in disbelief. She wanted to immediately go to the Servamp’s manor to see her condition and to ensure that she was being treated well. In the back of her mind, she was reminded that Misono needed her help with the family business. She loved both of her sisters.

Licht turned to Misono and there was an understanding between them without speaking. “You should go, Licht. I’m worried about Mahiru as well and I’ll feel better if one of us was there with her. Mikuni and I will stay here to deal with the family affairs. We’ll go to Hanafield once we complete the work here.”

“I’ll send you a more detailed letter about Mahiru’s condition the moment I see her.” Licht promised.

She gripped the letter in her fist as she ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Licht only stopped to put on a coat and her bonnet. In the corner of her eyes, she saw her mother step into the foyer. She thought her mother may question why she would run into the rain. She rushed to explain as she tied the ribbons of her bonnet.

“Mahiru has fallen sick from riding in the rain and I must go to her bedside. She is being cared for by the Servamps since they planned to have tea together.” Licht slipped her feet into her boots without lacing them, worried that Mahiru’s condition could worsen if she dawdled for even a moment. “I will ride Pegasus so there’s no need to prepare the carriage.”

“The morning tea was with the Servamps? If I knew, I would’ve allowed her to take the carriage and have her bring Sakura with her. That would’ve been the perfect opportunity for her to impress the family.” Her mother sighed and Licht bit her tongue. “Sakura will be so upset with Mahiru for not telling her. She was already disappointed that we couldn’t take the carriage into town due to this rain.”

“Your daughter has fallen ill yet you speak of the feelings of Sakura’s alone? You have more than one daughter, Mother! Hell, Mahiru has been more of a mother to your daughters and she’s the third oldest of us. You would match us with husbands in exchange for dresses and Father will do the same for money to gamble.” Her worry for Mahiru caused her frustration to boil until she couldn’t contain it. Licht’s yells could be heard throughout the house. She didn’t bother to listen to her mother’s reply before she stormed out the door.

Hyde stood on the perron staircase behind the manor and he was protected from the rain by the canopy above his head. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. He could see the creek past their garden and he recalled his first meeting with Licht. Their footman sent the family a letter to inform them that Mahiru became sick in the rain.

Sharp blue eyes played on his mind and he pondered if Licht would visit them to see her sister. She threw her shoe at him for insulting Mahiru and yelled at her mother for hurting Misono’s feelings. It was easy to see that she cared more for her sisters than how society saw her. Hyde couldn’t help but respect her passion and conviction.

He put out his cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the stair rail. Hyde intended to return into the warmth of the manor but something past the creek caught his attention. The person was too far for him to know who the rider was but he could see that they were riding towards the creek. He stepped into the rain and walked down the stone staircase.

The creek was only a short walk from Hanafield’s garden so he was able to reach the water with a light jog. On the other side of the creek, the horse continued to sprint towards the water but the rider made no move to slow down. Hyde tried to call out to the person to stop but his voice was drowned out by the rain striking the creek.

His eyes widened when the horse leapt over the creek and landed a few feet next to him. Hyde pulled himself out of his shock and he grabbed the horse’s reins to force it to stop. He shouted up at the rider: “Are you mad to perform such a dangerous jump in this rain?”

“Let go of me, Demon! I need to see my sister.” Hyde recognized Licht’s voice only a moment before she kicked him. Their screams scared her horse and the animal instinctively rose onto its hindlegs. She was thrown from the saddle and she braced herself from the impact with the ground. Instead, she found herself in warm arms when Hyde caught her.

“Are you okay, Angel Cakes?” Hyde asked. His heart was still racing and he didn’t know which of them was more startled. He looked down at her in his arms and the first thing he noticed was the tears staining her cheeks. He assumed that they were caused by worry for her sister and he wanted to reassure her. Before he could, Licht pushed lightly on his chest.

He placed her on the ground and Licht moved in front of the horse. With a simple hand on the horse’s muzzle, it became calm. Licht spoke to the horse in a soft voice and he was surprised by how lulling it was. “It’s okay, Pegasus. I was upset but I shouldn’t have rode so recklessly in the rain. When we return home, I will brush you and give you apples.”

“Our staff can care for your steed.” Hyde offered. He took off his jacket and held it over her head so she would be sheltered from the rain. The hem of her dress was coated in mud and her hair was dishevelled from the ride. Yet, she was still beautiful with her sharp blue eyes. “Your sister is well. The doctor said she only needs rest to recover.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Licht relaxed and stroked her horse’s mane. “Thank you for taking care of my sister and offering to help my horse. I want to see Mahiru right away.”

“I’ll walk you to the guest room where she’s sleeping.” He nodded. Hyde wanted to ask why she appeared so upset earlier but he didn’t know if it was his place to do so. He changed the subject and said, “I’ll have the staff prepare a towel and warm tea for you. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold as well. Anyways, I owe you a dress after I ruined the one you wore to the ball.”

“You’re housing my sister while she’s sick. We can consider ourselves even.” She said and looked up at him. He held his jacket over her head and she felt surrounded by warmth.