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sillyrabbit81 · 2 years

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The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part 7

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Six Summary: Lori and Sy are alone again and Lori must make a decision.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 4k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Six Warnings: Smut, mostly kissing, touching and the implication of more, angst, fluff.

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne. Finally some smut for you all, but please don't hate me, I had to!

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors.

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Six Part Eight

Lori

I felt pleasantly full from the pizza and beer, but waiting for Sy to come back had me on edge and my tummy kept flipping making me feel nauseous with anticipation.

I flicked through the channels while I waited and tried to settle my tapping foot and thumping heart. I settled on watching music videos, a best of the 70s countdown. It didn’t calm me completely, but at least I had a beat to bounce my foot to.

As excited as I was for Sy to come back, spending time with all the Brothers today was really enjoyable and I was a little disappointed when they left. I felt comfortable and safe with the four of them and despite how different they were, I felt equally drawn to each of them.

Mike was… Mike. He made me laugh and made me feel free in the simplest of ways. He was fun and welcoming and I could totally see myself having a great time with him. If I had met him in college, I would have dated him in a heartbeat. Marshall puzzled me, he was shut down in many ways, but every now and again he’d smile, or his eyes would flash with anger and I’d see the rivers of emotion beneath his exterior and I wanted in. Geralt was even more mysterious to me, but I liked being around him because he reminded me of the old school bikers I knew before things had changed. He seemed wise, calm and cool, and being near him gave me an overwhelming sense of home and comfort, even when an occasional shyness overtook me.

And August… he made me burn. Something about him stoked a raging bonfire in my gut, both from fear and lust. He seemed dangerous, always on the edge of humanity and while I was scared of him, I couldn’t deny my attraction.

And Sy, my God, Sy. He was everything rolled into one. Playful, deep, calming and dangerous, yet also sweet and compassionate. One moment he made me laugh, the next minute he made me cinch my thighs together and sink my teeth into my lip.

I was still thinking of Sy when I heard the door open and I sat up expectantly as he came back inside. He looked incredible as he paused, framed by the doorway. His thick black jeans fit snugly around his waist and his black faded Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt was stretched to its limits around the shirt and revealed his solid, inked forearms.

He closed the door and toed off his boots before walking to the foot of the bed. I expected that he would climb up the bed to lay over me, or maybe even finish undressing, but he didn’t. He crossed his arms and smiled at me, staring at me unmoving for so long I decided to take matters into my own hands.

“So,” I said, letting my legs fall open a little in invitation, “are you just going to stare at me or are you going to finish what you started this morning?”

Sy chuckled and dropped his arms. He shook his head at me as he walked around the bed, took the remote control from my hand and turned the music up. It was a slow rock song, I wasn't sure of the name of the band, but it was soft and the singer's southern twang was full of angst and yearning.

He held his hand out. “Dance with me?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

I tentatively put my hand in his and he rolled his eyes.

“C’mon,” he said.

I laughed softly as I climbed off the bed and Sy pulled me close to himself with a jerk. I let out a grunt as I crashed and nearly bounced off his hard body.

“Asshole,” I muttered.

Sy hummed, amused, as his arms encircled my waist. His scent cut into senses like a hot knife through butter. He smelled faintly of beer, mixed with the smokey smell of his tobacco while the skin on his neck smelled of leather and fuel, and below it all was a deep musk that was entirely male and potent.

He raised his hand to my neck, his palm pressed gently against my throat. His hands were warm and the cold metal of his rings made shiver as he ran his fingers over my skin. He smirked as he felt my reaction and his throat rumbled softly. Then his thumb lifted my chin higher and he dropped his head into my neck, his bearded cheek resting against mine.

My muscles went lax, my whole body felt like jello and I reached for his shirt to hold myself up. His arm went around my back drawing me closer, rocking us softly in time with the music, our bare feet on the carpet, he didn't seem to mind when I stood on his toes.

“Cat gotcha tongue baby?” Sy’s low words seeped like honey into my ears while his lips ghosted over my skin and the balmy heat in my gut burst into a raging fire.

“Didn’t figure you as much of a dancer,” I whispered.

He shrugged. “When I feel like it.”

“And you feel like it now?”

“That's right,” he murmured. “Seems to me you get me thinkin’ about doin’ lotsa things I don’t normally think of doin’.”

“Like what?”

There was a long pause before he lifted his head. “Sugar, I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Sounds ominous,” I said, feeling my body stiffen as if bracing for an impact.

“It ain’t bad, I just gotta tell you something before this goes any further.” I opened my mouth to say something but he shook his head and talked over me. “Just listen, baby. When we get back, I have to leave on another job,”

I raised my eyebrows, “But I thought…”

“I know baby, I don’t wanna go but it’s gotta be me.”

“Why?” Sy hesitated so I added sullenly, “You can’t tell me, don’t worry I get it.”

“It’s a logistics job, transportation across borders,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, I truly did not expect him to answer. “Did you know? That you’d be going?”

“Walker told me this morning,”

“How long?”

“A few days, a week?” Sy shrugged. “Depends what I find when I get there.”

Quiet moved in and we stood in each other's arms until the song ended and a faster, poppier one came on and the moment vanished. I moved out of his ambrace and he let me go looking at me expectantly.

“I get it,” I said flatly, “it's the life.”

“Baby…”

“No it’s fine,” I said, but it hurt. It really fucking hurt. I don’t know why I expected him to be any different.

He looked at me with such a pained expression I almost believed I really meant something to him. I turned away, turning the tv off and bringing my bag onto my bed to look for my PJs. I didn’t want to look at him because my disappointment was too hard to hide. I was not going to cry again.

“I was Army, Special Forces.” Sy said and I froze. “I was trained in transporting people and goods undetected across enemy lines. That’s why it’s gotta be me.”

I swallowed. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I wanted to,” he said, softly. I felt the heat of his body behind me, felt the back of his fingers skim down my arm. “I don’t wanna hide who I am. Not from you.”

“I’ll miss you,” I said, the words falling from my lips before I could stop them.

“I know.”

I huffed, not sure if it was true.

“‘Cause I’ll be missin’ you too,” Sy said, solemnly.

I turned back to him and tried to gauge his sincerity. “So how did you end up in an MC?” I asked to test him. I wanted to see how open he was prepared to be and I was not entirely convinced I would get an answer.

“A long series of events. Startin’ with a mission that went sideways and got some of my men killed and as a result I met Walker. Then we both met Geralt and later, Geralt brought Marshall in. And after finding we had similar grievances, it ended with us deciding to use our skills for ourselves instead of the government.”

“My men?”

“I was an Officer.”

“What skills? Were the others Special Forces too?”

“No, they… I'll let them tell you their stories.”

“What about Mike?”

“Mike, well, he's different,” Sy grinned. “Dumb kid just fell in with us.”

I searched his features for a sign that he was being deceitful, but despite his smile all I could see was the honesty I had noticed from the first time I laid eyes on him. Somehow I knew in the deepest marrow of my bones, that I could trust him. Even when he was being evasive, he wasn't lying to me. I ran my fingers over his lips, tracing the curve of his smile. His grin suddenly faded and he grew serious and I removed my hand.

Grimacing, he sniffed and turned his head towards the door. His jaw jutted forward as he spoke slowly and carefully. “The Brothers… They care about you.”

My face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“They care about you. Just like I do.”

My eyes widened, what was he saying?

He brought his attention back to me and the expression he wore was stoic. “And I know you have a kinda feelin’ towards them… the same as you do for me.”

He knew.

My blood ran cold and my stomach felt like it was shrinking in on itself. I looked away, I wanted to deny it, tell him it’s not true, but I couldn’t. I wanted to be sick.

“It’s ok,” Sy said, gently. “Believe me. It’s ok.”

I wasn’t so sure. The men I knew, the bikers I knew, they were territorial. One wrong glance from an old lady to another man could result in a beating, and in some cases not just for the other guy. Toxicity and violence was sewn into the fabric of the life, another reason why being here with Sy and entertaining my attraction to the rest of the Brothers was so momumentally stupid of me.

Sy’s hand was under my jaw again, lifting my gaze to his. He kissed me, his lips a gentle caress on mine but I couldn’t bring myself to kiss him back.

“Baby?”

“What must you think of me?”

“I think the world of you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough to know that I’m one lucky son of a bitch,”

“Sy…” I chided softly, feeling my cheeks heat. I tried to look away but he held me firmly in place.

“I mean it.”

For a few beats there was silence as the heat of his gaze radiated through me. His breath started getting harder and tension grew in his body.

“Still want me to finish what I started this mornin’?” he asked, huskily.

The Memento Mori tattoo across his neck caught my eye and I raised my fingers to trace the lettering. Knowing now how close to death Sy had been in his life made the tattoo seem like more than just a vague sentiment. Remember you must die were words not written to stir feelings of dread, but instead to inspire you to seize the day, to do what you can while you live, because your time in this life was fragile and finite.

I thought of my mother, wondered what she would think of me in this moment, here with a guy like Sy. Would she think me a fool, or would she understand that the heart wants what the heart wants? Although they were divorced, my father and mother still loved each other. I think perhaps they had been spending nights with each other, unable to stay away from each other for long and it had ultimately cost her her life. Would she make that choice again if she knew what was coming?

Knowing my mother, she would make the same choices and she would understand mine.

I wanted Sy. I wanted to see where the connection between us went. I wanted to see if it was real. And I wanted to live in this moment, to take the chance that maybe he and the Brothers are more than what I assumed they would be.

I slid my hand around to the nape of his neck and standing on my toes, I kissed his neck and felt him swallow as my tongue swept over his throat.

“Jesus, woman,” Sy said, his voice a gravelly groan. His hand slid into my hair and his hips pressed against mine.

I kept kissing his neck as I slid my hands under his shirt and into the coarse hair on his abdomen, following the dip between the gentle peaks and valleys of his abs until my fingers reached the slightly softer hair that lay across his chest.

His hand gripped my ass, sliding into the back pockets of my kevlar jeans, his fingers digging deep into my flesh drawing me closer until I could barely take a breath. Bending his knees, he slipped his leg between mine and dragged my core across his thick thigh. I dropped my head into his shoulder and muffled my moan into his piquant shirt as the friction made me realise just how damp my panties were getting.

My fingers inched across his chest, drawn as if by a gravitational pull to the piercing in his nipple. I ran my finger around the hairy skin that surrounded it until curiosity got the better of me and I gently slid my nail over it, pulling it down briefly before it sprang back into place. Sy groaned and the hand in my hair tightened into a fist.

I backed off, not sure if I had hurt him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t stop,” he growled, “touch me however you want. Anywhere you want. You won’t hurt me.”

I swallowed hard and licked my lips as I took the hem of his shirt in my hands and lifted. He took over, quickly pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. His hands moved to my hips, his touch softer this time, gentle even and he drew me closer again.

“Don’t stop,” he repeated, this time his voice was almost a whispered plea as lowered his head to mine.

My hands continued their exploration as my eyes catalogued his ink, including the DILLIGAF tattoo in large gothic script arching over his navel. It seemed like a lie when he held me; I couldn’t reconcile the tattoo with the man. He seemed to care about everything, his brothers, his club, me.

A change in the texture of his skin made my brow furrow. A large but old scar marred the side of his ribs, one of many I had noticed on his face and arms, but this one looked like it had been serious. They were all sewn up nicely, not like a lot of the backyard jobs I’d seen on some of the guys in my brother’s club. Perhaps it had been from his army days.

I wondered if I would ever know how he got it and found I wanted to know badly. I wanted to ask him more about his past, I wanted to know everything about him. Maybe if I was patient, he’d tell me more one day. For now though, I wanted to see more of him.

This time when his fingers lifted my jaw and his lips brushed mine, I kissed him back, opening myself to the warmth of his mouth and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across mine like satin. Pressing my body against his, I put my hands on his arms and felt the dense, rigid and strained muscles beneath his skin. My hands ran up to his thick shoulders as his made their way around my back and under my shirt before resting flat against my skin. His hands were scorching hot, burning me like a branding iron, except for where the cool metal of his rings slid over me.

My hands drifted over him, over his back, his neck, his short bristly hair and his soft thick beard and all the while he kissed me. Breathing hard into my mouth, he let me explore, sketching his features by touch, until my hands made their way down his stomach to his belt. He caught my hands in his and guided me onto my knees in the centre of the bed. He followed climbing onto the bed with a grin before he cupped my cheek and lowered his mouth to mine.

“You’re holding back,” I accused teasingly before our lips could meet.

He nodded, and said huskily, “It’s taking everything I’ve got not to rip your clothes off and take you.”

I whimpered, it’s the only way I can describe the sound that came from my mouth.

“Ah, you’d like that?” Sy asked, roguishly. “And here I was tryna be gentle.”

He ran his thumb over my mouth, slipping it between my lips. Instinctively my tongue flicked against his calloused pad, the texture of his hardened skin made me draw my legs together in anticipation. Then his mouth was on mine, his kiss light, tender, probing, but somehow still lustful and controlling. It made me shiver as goosebumps broke across my arms.

“Hmmm, but you like that too,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above mine.

Nodding, I lifted my mouth to his and he pulled away with a smirk. I tried again to chase his mouth but he moved again.

“What are you doing?” I whined.

“I like the way your lips look when you’re about to kiss,” he said, pulling his head away as I tried to kiss him again.

Frustrated, I said the first dirty thing I could think of. “Want to see how they’d look wrapped around your cock?”

Sy captured my jaw in his hand, his smirk growing wider. “You say the sweetest things, baby.”

Sy made a low noise deep in his throat as he kissed, his tongue sliding over my lips urging me to open for him. I did, meeting his with mine, lapping at the welcomed invasion. He sucked on my lower lip, his teeth scraping the delicate skin and my body pressed against his.

With a soft growl he pulled my shirt off over my head, returning his mouth to mine as he groped for my bra. He slipped it off quickly, his hands immediately on my breasts, groaning into my mouth. He dropped low, his hands holding me still as he took my nipple into his mouth. My hips rocked, the warmth of his mouth radiated through my nerves, each lap of his tongue was like a lick of flames heating and stoking the rapidly accelerating need that burned between my legs.

While his touch grew firmer and more urgent as he moved across my chest. “Your skin is so soft.”

Fuck me, he was so vocal; every kiss came with a soft rumble in his throat. By the time his mouth reached my neck I was trembling and my breath was bursting from my lungs in hard, short pants. He paused long enough to lay his forehead on mine, and stared at me. His eyes were lust blown yet laser focused and his breath ragged and rough as he palmed my breasts. My nipples tightened into small buds as they slipped between his fingers and he gave them a soft pinch that turned my blood into molten fire.

“God, I want inside of you,” he said suddenly.

He wrapped an arm around my back and swept my legs out from beneath me and laid me on the bed as I squealed then giggled as I covered my swaying breasts. He stayed on his knees and his hands were at my jeans, winking as he tugged on my jeans. I lifted my hips to help him then drew my legs up in the air while he yanked them from my body and he threw the clothes behind him. As my legs dropped he caught them and split them around his hulking frame. Then he was still, not moving except for his eyes and one hand that skimmed its way softly up the inside of my thighs.

“Sy, I—”

“Let me look at you a minute,” he said hoarsely.

His hand continued its slow climb, and he gripped my hip for a moment while his other hand mirrored his actions. His eyes wandered, his blue eyes were nearly black as he continued his appraisal. He studied me for so long I started to get nervous. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but under his close inspection I started to wonder if he noticed the thin silver stretch marks on my hips, or the scar on my ribs from where I had fallen off my pushbike as a kid, or how one breast was slightly larger than the other.

Sy seemed to sense my discomfort and he caught my eyes, his gaze was so heated it felt nuclear.

“You’re just about the most beautiful thing I ever saw,” he said so earnestly I couldn’t doubt him.

As he lowered himself onto me, my legs opened further, parting until they nearly hit the mattress to accommodate his immense size. Although he was supporting most of his weight on his elbow he was so deliciously heavy on top of me as his lower half pinned me and his hips kept my legs open. He kissed me again, a little more demanding and I parted my lips in invitation which he accepted greedily. He filled my mouth with his velveteen tongue, moving it inside me until I felt like there was no part of me he hadn’t explored and claimed.

His hands continued to stroke my side, rising slowly until his fingers ghosted over my cheeks and down my neck before he wrapped his hand around my throat possessively, yet so gently it was soothing. I whimpered into his mouth as he pressed himself against my core; I could feel him, hard and ready through his jeans, and the rough cotton rubbed against me as he rutted slowly.

I was a wet, throbbing, undulating, mess as I kissed him back. My hips worked with him, crudely urging him for more, but he remained rock solid and in control as he kissed down my neck, his kisses going lower and lower until he reached the small triangle of hair on my mound and raised his eyes.

I trembled in anticipation. Knowing how perfectly rough, silky and warm his tongue felt in my mouth, all I wanted in the world was to feel it on my clit.

He kissed lower. And lower. And lower. His eyes narrowed as mine grew wider and his beard brushed over the engorged skin between my legs. My hips jerked, and I let out a long shuddering breath.

Sy licked his lips as his fingers brushed over me, his eyes closing as I felt him part me and slide over my slick centre.

“Shit,” he drawled, elongating the words so long it almost was like he sang it. “You’re so fuckin' wet. So fuckin' wet for me.”

His breath tickled my clit, his humid exhale sent my nerves into overdrive while my brain simply shut down. My body strained to meet him, desperately seeking some contact or friction, anything to release the pent up tension in my quivering limbs.

“Relax baby,” Sy said, softly kissing the insides of my thighs, “I’ll get you there. I’m just enjoyin’ myself for a li’l bit first.”

“You’re teasing me,” I whined pathetically.

Sy smirked and shrugged a little, “Feels good though don’t it?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, it does,” his fingers slid over my swollen slick skin again, and I gasped, “Yeah, you’re feelin’ real good ain’tcha?”

It was a rhetorical question, but I nodded emphatically.

“Gonna make ya feel even better,” he murmured against my thigh, his eyes locking onto mine as the tips of his fingers were poised at my entrance, “You just gotta be a good girl for me and lay back and keep these pretty li’l legs open.”

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imdonnalynn · 9 months

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You Hesitated, I Didn't (1/1) REPOST

Summary: Why did River hesitate to shoot Mal down in the maidenhead? Why did Mal bring her back on board? Prequel to You Broke Me, But In A Good Way

Pairing: Malcolm Reynolds/River Tam

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 695

Warnings: Language, violence, outcome of mental, psychological and physical abuse at the hands of a government agency.

A/N: Another repost of mine from over a decade ago.

Disclaimer: The characters of Firefly (series) / Serenity (film) do not belong to me so do not sue me for copywrite infringement.

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“You hesitated…why’d you hesitate?” Mal whispered hauntingly running a hand through his spiked hair uneasily. River…he thought he understood her as best as anyone could. How wrong he was. Question was…was she a person or a weapon to be triggered at a moment's notice? His thoughts ran rampant, and River could hear and feel every single one of them as if they were her own. With him being so close and his emotions so raw she could barely shield herself from them. It was always hard to shield from Mal. Little did he know she wasn’t asleep but feigning sleep. She was too afraid to open her eyes in fear of his reaction. She could feel his anger, concern, fear and confusion.

He was angry at Simon, angry at her, for not telling him the whole truth about what was done to her. Angry that she could have snapped at any time and hurt one of the crew or worse, killed them. Concern over the crew and what was going to happen next. The fear she could understand. He saw her in action, and she scared herself, so she knew even Mal had to be unsettled. His confusion is what puzzled her…that was something else entirely.

In the maidenhead when she was triggered everything was so precise, so clear, every punch, every kick landed as it should have, but when she drew down on Mal…she hesitated…a full two seconds…why did she hesitate? She did not know the answer to her own question. Did Mal somehow break through her conditioning? Had the eight months aboard Serenity finally start to help her? It was too early to tell but she was hopeful. Serenity felt more like home than any place ever had. Now she feared she would have to leave that home…for the crew’s sake.

“What are you, River?” he asked himself to stare down at her, unaware of her conscious form.

I don’t know…she whispered inside her mind. I can’t tell where I end and where I begin anymore. Too many secrets, too many illusions, too many walls…everything’s a dead end at a new path…

“I don’t care what you believe…just believe…” she whispered feeling Mal’s gaze upon her.

At her voice Mal was startled out of his own thoughts. “River?” he didn’t know if she was awake or if she was talking in her sleep.

She shook her head against the grated floor. “No…” she whispered. “…it’s broken.” She laced her fingers into the grated floor as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle.

Mal tilted his head down at her. “What’s broken River?” he tried to keep a quiet soothing tone.

“Miranda,” she said.

“Miranda?” he returned. “What’s Miranda?” he knew it was pointless to ask a simple question but what the hell.

She studied her hand for a moment then sat up and turned her gaze to stare him in the eye. “Death…” she then started to tear up. “It’s not mine…it isn’t mine and I shouldn’t have to carry it!” she quietly started to cry and brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I’m like a toy that everyone wants to play with.”

Mal was in front of her before he realized what he was doing. “Now you listen to me little one,” he tipped her chin to make her look at him. “You’re nobody’s toy xiao mei?”

She laughed, “Bullet to me? Right in the brain pan, squish!”

He shook his head realizing what she sensed from earlier and put a finger to her lips, “Don’t talk like that River…” he trailed off as she started into a rant.

“Always something, never anything, all the same, why can’t it at least slow down,” she cried a few tears falling down her face.

Mal sighed and wiped them away cupping her face.

“Why did you bring me back?” she whispered against his hand helplessly. “Things are only going to get much, much worse.”

There was a long silence between them.

“Why did you hesitate?”

She slowly looked into his eyes and they both had their answers to their questions…they don’t know why, but they’ll understand some day.

THE END

Read sequel You Broke Me, But In A Good Way

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thepjoarchivist · 2 years

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Three Old Ladies Knit The Socks Of Death

I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle.

In chapter two - titled Three Old Ladies Knit The Socks Of Death - we start off with Percy having a bad time. As fun as the chapter titles are, they appear to be lies because Percy is not having fun.

Mrs. Kerr is brought up again. She’s a perky blond woman whom Percy has never seen in his life. The other students are convinced that she’s been their teacher since Christmas. I just want to know who this woman is. Is she actually a math teacher or is she a random woman off the street? Is she a monster? She’s got to have some relevance to Greek mythology because Grover keeps lying about her. I can’t decide if Grover is bad at lying or if Percy is extremely perceptive because of whatever bad thing happened to him.

It kills me that they’re lying to him and he knows the truth. Or at least part of it. This is giving me Rosemary’s Baby vibes. The gaslighting!

Oh no, Percy is having nightmares about Mrs. Dodds. This really scared him. It would have scared me too.

Again, the weather is brought up. This time it seems to be attacking him directly. Since Zeus is the one who’s lightning bolt was stolen and he’s the god of thunder, it’s safe to assume that he’s the one who blew out Percy’s window. In the same paragraph, we find out that there’s record-breaking tornadoes near Percy’s school and sudden squalls that are bringing down small planes in the Atlantic. It sounds like a lot of people are dying because of the unexpected weather.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Percy is not having a good time. I guess his C- really was the best grade he got so if he’s normally a D student, I really don’t understand how he’s been pushed through to the next grade every time. When Percy says he’s getting into more fights, I wonder what kind of fights he’s referring to. Fist fights? Verbal fights? Is he trying to drown Nancy Bobofit and her friends again?

Their English teacher is named Mr. Nicoll and wow, he’s a jerk for calling Percy lazy and stupid. I had to google what “sot” meant because this term seems to predate 2005 so much that Percy doesn’t even know what it means…but it means he called his teacher an old, stupid drunk. Is Mr. Nicoll secretly Dionysus? When do we get to see the gods?

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Percy is very upset about having not been invited back for seventh grade even though he didn’t seem to like the school much. I think it’s because his mom will look at him with those sad eyes he mentioned in the last chapter. The fact that he immediately moves on from the ban to thinking about how much he wants his mom…Percy is clearly seeking comfort.

Obnoxious stepdad who plays poker? Is he the one who hurts Percy?

I love that the first thing Percy thinks of when he says he’d miss Yancy was the nature; the trees, the Hudson River in the distance. Grover is next, and then Mr. Brunner. Percy, don’t miss them, they’re lying to you.

Aw, Percy just wants someone to believe in him.

Do you think that RR read the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology?

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

One thing that I can say with certainty, since I have it, is that this is not how dyslexia works. This is, however, how magic mushrooms work. I double-checked the intended age for the series and RR says that they’re for ages 9-14 so I feel that my protagonist-on-drugs theory may not be correct, despite the evidence for it.

Watching Percy’s anxiety as he struggles to study for this test that he really wants to pass is just making me so sad for him. He’s trying so hard.

I’d never asked a teacher for help before.

Oh my goodness. My heart. Even though he knows that Mr. Brunner is lying to him, Percy still wants to go to him for help and put the effort into passing his class. Percy spent most of chapter one plotting murder but he’s really a sweetheart.

Mr. Brunner, what are you doing alone with Grover in the middle of the night? Why are these teachers spending so much time alone with children? They’re gossiping about Percy. Is this the first time or have they been talking about him before? Based on the conversation, it sounds like Percy is in some trouble and doesn’t know it yet…and also like they’ve talked about this before.

Percy isn’t even there and Mr. Brunner is trying to convince Grover that Percy just imagined Mrs. Dodds. I had to google what a Kindly One was and it turns out to be a Fury. That must be what Mrs. Dodds was. Also, kind of surprised that Mr. Brunner couldn’t see through the Mist. He’s clearly involved somehow.

Grover has duties? What does failing mean?

Mr. Brunner says he’s worried about keeping Percy alive until next fall. It’s weird that he specified a time until which Percy can be dead. I wonder if there’s something happening next fall that he needs to be alive for.

Percy’s book slipped out of his hand, alerting Mr. Brunner and Grover to the presence of a spy, and Percy backs into an empty room. Before he goes into this room, Percy sees the shadow of something big and armed with a bow and arrow. Later, he hears an animal snuffling right outside of the room he’s hiding in and then Mr. Brunner is talking. So Mr. Brunner is a monster but he’s trying to keep Percy alive.

Percy hides in the room for “what feels like forever” and he’s sweating and scared. When he goes back to the dorm room, Grover is there acting like nothing happened. Again. This time with the added bonus of telling Percy that he looks like shit. lol Percy lies to Grover about how he’s feeling, clearly not trusting him anymore. I wouldn’t trust Grover either.

A three hour Latin exam?

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Mr. Brunner is trying to embarrass Percy in front of the class by telling him it’s for the best that he leaves the school. What kind of teacher worth their salt openly says that a student doesn’t belong when the whole class can hear? They’re taking a test, so it’s got to be dead silent in that classroom, the kind of silence where you can hear everyone shifting around in their seats. Mr. Brunner is really making Percy almost cry (my eyes stung) in front of the whole class.

I just know that after that whole interaction, Percy went and cried in the bathroom.

Apparently Yancy is a school for rich juvenile delinquents. If Percy needs to get a summer job walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions, how did his family afford to send him there?

It occurred to me that he’d always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen.

Percy talks about how Grover is nervous when they leave Yancy, however, we didn’t see that at all when they were at the museum. Also how often do the students leave the school? That aside, why would Grover behave nervously now when he was perfectly fine with having a Fury as a math teacher…and with whatever Mr. Brunner is? If my math is correct, Mrs. Dodds was there from December to May and Grover did tell Percy that she’s a monster.

More gaslighting from Grover.

Does Grover have a business card in cursive just to be a dick to Percy? Why does a child have a business card? What is Grover keeping aside from the truth from Percy? Why can’t Percy say Half-Blood Hill?

All year long, I’d gotten into fights, keeping bullies away from him. I’d lost sleep worrying that he’d get beaten up next year without me. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended me.

As Percy said moments before; why would Percy need Grover? It sounds like this is very much a relationship where Percy gives and Grover takes. Percy is a good friend.

Even I recognize the Fates when I see them. I’m not sure why they would be knitting a giant pair of socks. Socks aren’t that uncommon to knit, but a giant pair seems odd. At least the Fates have some taste by using electric-blue yarn.

The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic.

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I’d caught the flu.

I’ve never heard of the Fates blatantly showing when someone was about to die, but I can only imagine that this is what RR meant to accomplish by showing it. The way that it seemed to physically affect Percy, makes me think that perhaps it was his lifestring. Does this mean that Percy is now a ghost haunting the narrative?

Grover yet again refuses to talk to Percy about anything and only winds up his own (and Percy’s) anxiety. We once again see something about a ‘last time,’ which I assume means that someone died on Grover’s watch and that’s how he failed. This child being in charge of other people's lives does not sit well with me.

“Grover - that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?”

Percy is very perceptive. He didn’t recognize the Fates but he still knows what it means based on how Grover reacts. The way that Grover looks at Percy at the end of this chapter tells me that he’s already decided Percy is a lost cause. Maybe there’s a reason that he failed his duties last time.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #riordanverse #pjo #the lightning thief

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lostintheducksauce · 7 months

Text

the fight

I see her. In my dreams, occasionally, never too often. In those dreams we are happy. That’s all I remember when I wake up. When my mind begins to come to consciousness I keep my eyes closed. I squeeze them shut as hard as I can, willing myself to go back to sleep, back to that happy reality with her. But inevitably the sun rises and I open my eyes. The world is sad compared to that dream. As I wake the memories of the dream go flying out of my head, until I’m left with nothing but melancholy. The ache in my heart is almost too much to bear.

This morning was one of those mornings. I try to remember the dream sometimes, but it never works. All I know is that I experience a future where I’m happy, a future where she’s mine. A world beyond my grasp.

I look down at my helmet and inhale deeply through my nose, holding it here for a moment to still my heart. I can hear the crowd now, chanting my opponent’s name and getting riled up for the next match. The Master of Ceremonies is in rare form, his voice so loud it’s on the verge of breaking. He might as well, it is the last match of the day after all. The sun will be at its highest, I’ll have to end it quickly before I overheat. Even in this shaded back room the heat is almost too oppressive.

Focus, I tell myself. There is little room for error out there. She belongs to someone else, I remind myself. She begins to fade into the background. The pain recedes as I focus on the task at hand. The chanting is growing louder.

“And whatever you do, don't get stuck underneath him,” Jungen Jerchen says nervously. Has he been talking this entire time? I smile to myself in amusement and apology. “He’s a lot bigger than you, so you-”

I place my armored hand on his shoulder and he looks at me. “It is done,” I say with a small smile.

He pats my hand and forces a smile back. “Aye, it is, isn’t it?”

Abruptly the doors to the arena open with a loud metallic series of clanks. Slowly the heavy iron gate opens and sunlight begins slowly pouring in along with the roar of the crowd. One more deep breath and I put my helmet on and the sound is reduced to a tin, my vision reduced to narrow slits.

Almost without my permission my legs begin to move, towards the arena, towards the sands. When I step out into the sunlight the roar is deafening, or at least it should be. I can hear almost nothing save for the sound of my breath and the pounding of my heart. I can see almost nothing save for my opponent. Lo, he approaches. A white shield with blue stars, one for every man he’s conquered. When the day is done, would he be painting another blue star on his shield? He approaches like a walking mountain, his sinister looking mace at least twice as heavy as mine.

I look for his eyes, but can see nothing through the slits in his helmet.

He’s only a man, I tell myself but I’m not quite sure I believe it. My grip feels weak on my mace. My heart is beating too fast. I feel light headed. I am thirsty.

He’s only a man. The Master of Ceremonies goes through the last minute instructions and asks if we are ready. I don’t believe I am. I don’t believe anyone can truly be ready for a moment like this. But I feel myself nod.

I get my shield up in time, barely. I feel the shock of his mace down my left arm as it rattles me to my bones.

Had that hit my head, I would be- NO. I tell myself. There is no time for doomsaying in a fight. Fear will lead to doubt. Doubt will lead to hesitation. Hesitation will lead to death. Never let it be said that Elman of the Twin Rivers did anything with hesitation, including meeting his own death. Let it be said of me that I did nothing halfway or with pause, and that when I met my end I greeted death as an old friend, sorry to have kept him waiting for so long.

I swing wildly, two times in a quick right to left to right motion, forcing him back. We circle, attempting to get the measure of the other. I don’t know how many full force blows my shield can take, or my arm beneath it. I will have to dodge what I can and turn what I cannot. The rest will have to be absorbed.

For such a large man Tongen of the Blue Star moves incredibly quickly, far quicker than myself which seems unfair. One would think if there was an advantage I would have over someone so much heavier it would be speed. I am proven wrong as his mace crashes into my shield again, and then glances across the top of my helmet. I hear ringing as my vision swims but I am able to keep my balance long enough to ward off the next few blows.

I swing back but it’s ineffective. The blows that I do land are turned by his shield, while his slightest touch sends me reeling. It takes everything I have just to stay on my feet. Jungen’s words come back to me, and I manage to stay out from underneath him as he tries for a grapple. He is as strong as a bear, but I managed to headbutt him and break his clinch as we separate. It should be illegal for a man to be that strong.

I am breathing hard, my heart pounding in my chest from fear and exertion. The armor is hot. A funny thought crosses my mind. He’s taller than me, which means he’s closer to the sun. I pray that means he’s also a little hotter than I am. I resist the urge to chuckle.

I bite too hard on a feint and his mace crashes into my stomach. Fortunately the armor holds but some of the breath is driven from my lungs. I’m not sure if I make a sound or not but I’m forced to stumble away off balance. Anyone watching can see the inevitable end is near.

An older fighter, past his prime and of no great significance even in his heyday. A young hungry athlete, larger and faster, more technically sound. There is no hope.

Yet still I fight on. I block what I can, endure what I must. His blows rattle my teeth while mine seem to barely tickle him. By now my shield is in splinters while his looks freshly painted. Still I fight on. I grunt. I curse. I clench my teeth and I roar. I throw everything I can muster at him. He blocks, returns, retreats, advances. And in those tiny moments, in those microseconds between microseconds I see something. I don’t even think about it. My body moves of its own accord. I land a backswing across his helmet. A clean hit, the kind so clean that it doesn’t even feel like you hit anything. He stumbles but doesn’t fall, saved by his mass. But it’s something, and I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth

I swing again, and again, both of which are blocked, but they are just a distraction. My right foot connects with his left ankle in a sweep attempt and he stumbles off balance again, his superior athleticism keeping him upright. But it’s a further distraction. I knock him back with my shield and swing my mace full on across his helmet. With a satisfying crunch he drops to a knee. I raise my mace to separate him from consciousness.

The horns blare, signaling the end of the time limit. I stand there with my mace raised for an instant, and then my arm becomes too heavy to hold up. I am so out of breath that I am on the verge of wheezing. The contest is over and the battle rush is leaving me quickly. I fumble with my helmet with numb fingers, desperate to get it off and get some fresh air.

“Hold still, hold still,” I can hear Jungen’s voice as he rattles my head around trying to get the damn thing off. When did he get here? Finally the top comes off and I am able to breathe. The summer air seems cool in comparison to what I was breathing inside the armor. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my heart and restore some life into my legs.

“A good match, well fought and done,” Tongen says to me with a bright smile and an extended hand. The damn young warrior doesn’t even seem out of breath.

“Well fought and done,” I return a genuine smile and clasp his armored forearm as he clasps mine. I can barely get my hand around his arm while his grip seems to engulf mine.

“We should do it again sometime.”

“You wish to murder an old man that badly?” I say and he laughs politely. We stand in front of the king but I am not listening to the man speak. The battle rush leaves, and she comes back to haunt my waking hours. She should be here. She should be next to me, her beautiful face full of concern for my well being. If she were here I would pick her tiny body up and kiss her, just like I did the first time we kissed. I would close my eyes and drink her in. Her smell would intoxicate me as it always did and the pain of the fight would begin to fade. She would tell me she loved me and I would remain there with my eyes closed, my forehead upon her forehead as she whispered it over and over again until I believed I was worthy of such love. A tiny hope appears. Maybe she realizes she still loves me. Maybe she is on her way to me right now, running through the stands to be in my arms. Maybe she will leap into my embrace, and the crowd will cheer and the king will applaud.

I kill the tiny hope before it can take root. I murder it in its crib. It is the hope that kills you, and I kill it before it can kill me. She belongs to someone else, I say to myself yet again, resisting the urge to say it out loud. In battle I have no time to think about her. In battle I have no time to think of anything else but survival. If it were possible I would fight every minute of every day just to be rid of her ghost. She haunts my dreams and she haunts me when I’m awake. I see her everywhere, but I am unable to speak to her, to touch her. Yet I do not even cross her mind. She is happy with her new lover. I am in her past while she haunts my present, invades my future.

The battle rush is completely gone now. The thrill of violence and the uncertainty of fate give way to melancholy and regret. Jungen tells me it will pass, but I hold no hope. Fighting is my only reprieve from this living nightmare, a sweet escape where there is no space or time to think about anything but the moment. I long for the days where a dog was just a dog and not a reminder of the way she would stop to pet every animal on the way to the market. The places we used to eat together I find convenient excuses to avoid. When I pass by their windows I can see us in our usual seats, sharing a meal and a laugh. The songs the bards sing about heartache used to be in a foreign language, now I find myself understanding every word.

“You frightened me,” Jungen says as he embraces me, the prize money clinking in his purse. “A shame, a few more seconds and victory would have been ours.”

“Indeed,” is all I can bring myself to say.

“What? What’s wrong?” A look of concern crosses my friend’s face and I force myself to smile for his sake.

“I was just wondering when the next fight was.”

The End

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

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istumpysk · 2 years

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Davos I (Chapter 5)

Dying would be easier, he knew. All he had to do was crawl inside his cave and let the ship pass by, and death would find him. For days now the fever had been burning through him, turning his bowels to brown water and making him shiver in his restless sleep. Each morning found him weaker. It will not be much longer, he had taken to telling himself.

If the fever did not kill him, thirst surely would. He had no fresh water here, but for the occasional rainfall that pooled in hollows on the rock.

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up she was shitting brown water. The more she drank, the more she shat, but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew, and her thirst sent her crawling to the stream to suck up more water. When she closed her eyes at last, Dany did not know whether she would be strong enough to open them again. - Daenerys X, ADWD

Davos survives this whole ordeal, and becomes more emboldened, and devoted to his gods. I think I know what that means for Daenerys.

+.+.+

Thirst; hunger; exposure. They were his companions, with him every hour of every day, and in time he had come to think of them as his friends. Soon enough, one or the other of his friends would take pity on him and free him from this endless misery.

When first he came to Dragonstone, the army of stone grotesques had made him uneasy, but as the years passed he had grown used to them. Now he thought of them as old friends. - Prologue, ACOK

+.+.+

Davos had always been a sailor; he was meant to die at sea. The gods beneath the waters have been waiting for me, he told himself. It's past time I went to them.

This could be true.

+.+.+

He knew where his rock lay, more or less; it was one of a series of sea monts that rose from the floor of Blackwater Bay. The tallest of them jutted a hundred feet above the tide, and a dozen lesser monts stood thirty to sixty feet high. Sailors called them spears of the merling king, and knew that for every one that broke the surface, a dozen lurked treacherously just below it.

The Merling King gets a lot of mentions in this series and the side books. I've never really looked into it. Does it mean anything?

+.+.+

Why should I live? he thought as tears blurred his vision. Gods be good, why? My sons are dead, Dale and Allard, Maric and Matthos, perhaps Devan as well. How can a father outlive so many strong young sons? How would I go on? I am a hollow shell, the crab's died, there's nothing left inside. Don't they know that?

A question I ask myself after every one of your chapters.

+.+.+

They had sailed up the Blackwater Rush flying the fiery heart of the Lord of Light. Davos and Black Betha had been in the second line of battle, between Dale's Wraith and Allard on Lady Marya.

...

Wait.

A ship named Lady Marya? Lady mARYA?

PffftbwahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

@shieldofrohan and I once joked that at the end of the series Davos and Arya would sail away together, missing half their hands, being each other's surrogate father and daughter, and now I'm legitimately considering this possibility.

+.+.+

His chest was growing tighter by the instant. He clawed at the water, kicking, pushing himself, turning, his lungs screaming for air, kicking, kicking, lost now in the river murk, kicking, kicking, kicking until he could kick no longer. When he opened his mouth to scream, the water came rushing in, tasting of salt, and Davos Seaworth knew that he was drowning.

The next he knew the sun was up, and he lay upon a stony strand beneath a spire of naked stone, with the empty bay all around and a broken mast, a burned sail, and a swollen corpse beside him.

He could have come back as Patchface or Aeron Greyjoy, and he chose the deeply religious one.

At least Patchface spoils the story.

+.+.+

The Father protects his children, the septons taught, but Davos had led his boys into the fire.

Get it, he could mean the battle or R'hllor.

+.+.+

His hand reached for his throat, fumbling for the small leather pouch he always wore about his neck. Inside he kept the bones of the four fingers his king had shortened for him, on the day he made Davos a knight. My luck. His shortened fingers patted at his chest, groping, finding nothing. The pouch was gone, and the fingerbones with them. Stannis could never understand why he'd kept the bones. "To remind me of my king's justice," he whispered through cracked lips. But now they were gone. The fire took my luck as well as my sons.

There's no chance Melisandre has his fingers, but I always found this odd:

"The bones help," said Melisandre. "The bones remember. The strongest glamors are built of such things. A dead man's boots, a hank of hair, a bag of fingerbones. With whispered words and prayer, a man's shadow can be drawn forth from such and draped about another like a cloak. The wearer's essence does not change, only his seeming." - Melisandre, ADWD

What's that about? You have 2 books to figure it out.

+.+.+

And then some vast beast had let out a roar, and green flames were all around them: wildfire, pyromancer's piss, the jade demon.

The sight of it seemed to stop his heart for a moment, and he could still remember the sound of it, the crackle of flames, the hiss of steam, the shrieks of dying men, and the beat of that terrible heat against his face as the current swept him down toward hell.

In his dreams the river was still aflame and demons danced upon the waters with fiery whips in their hands, while men blackened and burned beneath the lash.

More fun with language!

+.+.+

"Mother, have mercy," Davos prayed. "Save me, gentle Mother, save us all. My luck is gone, and my sons." He was weeping freely now, salt tears streaming down his cheeks. "The fire took it all . . . the fire . . ."

Perhaps it was only wind blowing against the rock, or the sound of the sea on the shore, but for an instant Davos Seaworth heard her answer. "You called the fire," she whispered, her voice as faint as the sound of waves in a seashell, sad and soft. "You burned us . . . burned us . . . burrrrned usssssss."

"It was her!" Davos cried. "Mother, don't forsake us. It was her who burned you, the red woman, Melisandre, her!"

+.+.+

"It was her work," Davos said again, more weakly. Her work, and yours, onion knight. You rowed her into Storm's End in the black of night, so she might loose her shadow child. You are not guiltless, no. You rode beneath her banner and flew it from your mast. You watched the Seven burn at Dragonstone, and did nothing. She gave the Father's justice to the fire, and the Mother's mercy, and the wisdom of the Crone. Smith and Stranger, Maid and Warrior, she burnt them all to the glory of her cruel god, and you stood and held your tongue. Even when she killed old Maester Cressen, even then, you did nothing.

There you go.

+.+.+

Twice his maimed fingers slipped on the damp stone and he almost fell, but somehow he managed to cling to his perch. If he fell he was dead, and he had to live. For a little while more, at least. There was something he had to do.

Killing someone is not a good reason to live.

Try saving children instead.

+.+.+

"You," the fifth man called out when they were only a few feet from his island, "you up on the rock. Who are you?"

A smuggler who rose above himself, thought Davos, a fool who loved his king too much, and forgot his gods.

[...]

The galley might be Joffrey's, he realized suddenly. If he spoke the wrong name now, she would abandon him to his fate. But no, her hull was striped. She was Lysene, she was Salladhor Saan's. The Mother sent her here, the Mother in her mercy. She had a task for him. Stannis lives, he knew then. I have a king still. And sons, I have other sons, and a wife loyal and loving. How could he have forgotten? The Mother was merciful indeed.

How the fuck are you going to thank the Mother for saving you, then go right back to washing Stannis's balls in your mouth?

Also, I am gobsmacked that Stannis came before the sons and wife.

+.+.+

"Stannis," he shouted back at the Lyseni. "Gods be good, I serve King Stannis."

"Aye," said the man in the boat, "and so do we."

Okay, I figured it out.

Davos is Azor Ahai. Born again amidst the salty sea and smoky Blackwater Bay.

Melisandre is Nissa Nissa.

Please like and subscribe to my channel, and don't forget to press the bell icon to get notifications.

Final thoughts:

Somehow I forgot Davos has some leftover sons. Did you know one of them is named Stannis?...

It's okay to make fun of Davos.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #asos #davos i

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years

Text

Remembrance AU: The First Time

So this isn't the first one I wrote for this "series", but this is the first one chronologically, so I decided this will be the first to be posted. Depending on how well this one and the other two I've written do will help me to decide if this is an AU I wanna continue or not. Feel free to send in asks and stuff about the AU!

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

You hated the nether. The thick dry heat choked you in a way that made you feel as if you had stepped into a wildfire in the middle of a desert, but worse. The smell of sulfur seemed to cling to your clothes in a way that made you gag every time. To be honest, you probably wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t appreciate the piglins. You were able to barter with them much easier than the villagers back home, and they had much better stuff. You snorted at the thought, and the large brute before you copied the action.

Home.

The village you had set up base in wasn’t really your home. Just a convenient place that you had set up your bed. A bed which now sat on the other side of the portal you had built on the lower level of the bastion below.

You were grateful to have access to the only thing you really needed in the nether. Trading with the piglins gave you a way to achieve more ender pearls so you wouldn’t have to kill the poor enderman on the surface. You held out another gold ingot to the brute, but he didn’t take it immediately. He was looking at something to the side of your exchange and you turned your head slightly to look too.

The heat of the nether was nothing compared to the warmth that immediately bubbled in your stomach. Everything seemed to fizzle out of existence aside from the large man that had entered the bastion. Which turned out to be your mistake.

Searing pain in your back made you grunt as you were knocked forward into the brute in front of you. You turned to see a ghast behind you that breathed another fireball. The piglin, upset at suddenly being “attacked” started to slice at you with its sword and you hissed at the damage you were taking. You didn’t want to kill the piglin. It didn’t understand that it had been an accident.

You cursed at yourself. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had been all this time, and your health felt dangerously low. Another hit from the explosion of the fireball and a swipe at the brute’s sword replaced the pain with nothing as you died.

You cursed when you woke up in your bed next to the portal. The mattress felt almost too soft as you struggled to remove yourself from it and fling yourself back through the portal. You flew up the steps, your feet taking them two at a time and you hoped your items hadn’t despawned.

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when you saw Technoblade examining your items. You had been fast enough. You jogged up behind him, a grin on your lips, both relieved for your items and excited to finally meet him. “Hey!”

You immediately jolted to a stop at the sword now placed at your throat, but you could help but laugh at yourself. You should have expected that. You held up your hands in what you believed to be a non-threatening manner as you looked up at him.

“Sorry about that! I’m [y/n].” You watched him slowly lower the blade, eyes behind the mask narrowed at you. He looked both exactly how you expected and not how you expected at all.

“Technoblade.” You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as you moved around him to collect your items and put back on your armor. Who hadn’t heard of him?

“Man, I hate ghasts. I worked really hard to save up all those levels, and now I have nothing.” You took a cursory glance at your levels. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have two. Fat load of help that would be. Glad I don’t need to enchant anything for a long while, hm?” You turned back to him once you had your golden boots buckled. You were totally going to take advantage of this opportunity to follow him like a puppy. No one else you had met seemed to actually understand you and the chance at an interaction with someone had you almost crawling up the walls. “Where are we off to, then?”

Techno just stared at you. You were much shorter than he was. At least a foot, if not more. How tall was he again? In this form, about seven feet, he thought. You were very short compared to him. The thought made his lips twitch before he turned, walking in the direction of where he last remembered there to be a fortress.

Chat was going crazy at the discovery of this new anomaly. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met people he didn’t share a couple lifetimes with before. He had met plenty where they just didn’t meet in a life or two, such as George or Schlatt. But never someone he had shared none with. No one here seemed to speak of anyone new either. It was always the same people, a different storyline. As if DreamXD -or maybe Kristen? He had only met her once, but she had been very kind. Would this be her department, then?- just kept recycling their souls into new realities like a -what did that lifetime call it? A movie? Chat confirmed his thought- played for their own entertainment until they got bored and it was onto the next.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking again, but the roar in his brain was louder, so he didn’t pay too much attention to your words, despite how the soft timbre of your voice made something bubble in his chest. What were you even doing here? He had seen you trading with the piglins before your death, -you had respawned so quickly, anyone else in this lifetime took two or three days but you seemed to reappear in what felt like seconds- so why were you following him now?

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

Maybe we should kill them again, see what happens this time.

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

Blood for the blood god.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

His fingers twitched around his sword at the thought. Was this all a trick? It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He glanced at you once more, focusing on your words, finally.

“-like they seem to notice, y’know? I just kind of walk into their houses, take from their chests, and move on. Hell, I even put my bed in, I think the library? Not one of them batted an eye! It’s almost scary, to be honest. I can loot their things, sleep in their beds, practically dismantle their homes, and I get nothing but a “Hnn.” in response!” A small pout found its way to your lips and Techno hummed in response. This seemed to be what you wanted to hear because a smile replaced the pout and you looked up at him. “So where are we going again?”

“Fortress.” His words were short, tone clipped, as if he didn’t know if you were gonna shove him into the lava, or if that was what he planned to do to you. It didn’t matter, to be honest. You were just thrilled he was letting you accompany him. Heart soaring at the feeling of interacting with another intelligent being once more. He even seemed to be listening as you rambled! That had to be a good thing, right? You hadn’t really met anyone else on the server yet, aside from distantly watching Dream, George, and Sapnap build the large building that stood in the center of what they dubbed the Dream SMP. A small giggle fell from your lips. That would have been a cute name had one of the members not been named it. Rather, it just felt self-centered because of that. You were mildly afraid of approaching the trio. You were almost afraid of how they would react when they met you.

You edged closer to the bridge to the fortress with Technoblade and you felt your heart speed up a little. Ash floated across your vision and you felt it hard to breathe for a moment. The sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin under your armor made you feel clammy. You had only been in one of these once since coming here when you wanted to try your hand at learning how to craft potions and needed blaze rods.

That.. hadn’t worked out in your favor.

You had only had one set of diamond armor, and you hadn’t even enchanted it at the time. When the wither skeletons had overtaken you and murdered you without a thought, you remembered racing back and trying to get your items back. This had only led to yet another death, however. Your eyebrows furrowed as the question entered your mind.

How many times had you died?

You remember when you first came to this world, waking up next to a river with a chest filled with bread, a map, a wooden axe, and a few other paltry items sitting before you surrounded by torches. The gentle babble of the water easing you awake and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the breeze. You almost didn’t mind the ants that were crawling on the ledge just a tad too close to you. You remember being so confused and the days being so hard at first. You didn’t even sleep the first couple days because you hadn’t found a village yet. The stupid phantoms that had attacked you had made you way more aggressive than you had meant to be. But you were tired and you were frustrated and you just wanted to find a stupid village already. You had been residing in the one you were in now since you had first found it your third day here. The first two deaths happening on your second day. One because of said phantoms and one because you had fallen from a cliff. You were devastated at the lack of supplies and progress when you just respawned next to that river, awaking to a few scattered zombies and a skeleton or two. You had dug yourself a hole and cried in it while you waited for sun-up. Many more deaths had happened since, but you couldn't seem to be able to remember the number now.

You hadn’t planned on returning to a fortress until you had better equipment, fearing another death. Something better than your diamond armor and golden boots and your sole netherite sword, but who were you to miss the opportunity to go exploring with The Blood God? Besides you had a bow with Power IV you had stolen from a skeleton that had been in the village. You didn’t know how durable it still was, but it was better than nothing, right?

The rattling of bones brought you out of your thoughts. Already a couple of blazes and some wither skeletons were approaching. You drew your sword, heart hammering in your chest. This wouldn’t be like last time. You had Technoblade to back you up. The top PVPer. The winner of the potato war. The Blood God. You could do this. You could do this.

A lucky swing from one of the wither skeletons caught you in the arm and you hissed as the wither effect immediately took hold and you jolted at the feeling. It was numbing. You felt nauseated. Another hit and you gasped when you felt your health drop to a dangerous level. You sliced up with your sword, removing its head from its spine with a gnarly “click” and you immediately moved out of fire to drink some milk and eat a couple of the pieces of salmon you had brought with you.

Whilst you were letting your health regenerate, you removed your bow from your inventory, aiming at one of the blazes, only to watch something white hit it first. You hesitated, looking towards Technoblade, only to see him ignoring the wither skeletons that were approaching you and focusing on throwing snowballs at the flaming mob. Your lips twitched. Fine. You’d take care of the skeletons, then.

You grabbed your sword once more and began attacking the skeletons in front of you with reckless abandon. You were growing mildly frustrated. Your arm hurt now and Techno seemed to be leaving you on your own to fight off the horde that was slowly amassing. There had only been four of them at first, but now four more had sprinted over to join the fray when they saw the two of you. Now, minus the one you had already taken care of and the two Technoblade had killed within the first ten seconds of their approach, there were five. You winced when you heard the sound of both blazes being taken care of and you hadn’t even killed one more.

‘-so she throws this apple, she just chucks this apple and says like, only the hottest goddess can take this apple.’ Chat loved it when he told them mythology stories, despite them being there when he had read it.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

Speaking of discord, how’s the new person doing?

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

At the mention of you, Techno turned his attention to the sound of metal hitting metal and was surprised to see you still standing there, despite being crowded by wither skeletons. Just another thing to tack onto the list about you. He watched you kill another one, followed by a yelp as you took another hit, the wither effect turning the flesh around your wound a purplish black before you killed one more. You backed up on the bridge, drinking more milk and eating another piece of fish. He could see how the action pained you, but you were resilient.

They’re stupid.

Look at them wave that sword around, do they even know what they’re doing?

They haven’t died again yet?

They can’t be one of Schlatt’s people.

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

He decided to wait and see what you did. If you died, there was more for him to loot. If you didn’t, then it was a lesson. Either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting you further into the fortress. His nose twitched at the smell of your blood and of rot that seemed to ooze off the skeletons. He still needed more wither skulls.

The remaining four attacked you again, despite your low health, and you felt as if you were going to cry. You hated the nether.

Two more were dispatched a lot faster than the first ones had been and you swallowed. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt just the slightest bit more confident in yourself.

Two more left.

You ducked at a swing, movement still slow. You only had one more milk left, and that scared you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, get hit again with their stupid swords and their stupid wither effect. You sliced with your sword, hooking the metal into the rib cage in front of you and sending the skeleton careening into the other just as it swung down, making the attack miss.You flinched at the sound of metal hitting stone, but you recovered faster than the skeletons in front of you. You could do this.

Another hit, your sword cutting through the skeleton’s vertebrate and killing it. You could do this.

One more.

Your sword was met with metal as you blocked its attack and you grunted, knocking it back. You could do this!

A downward slice had you throwing yourself back onto the side of the bridge as you dodged. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Technoblade again. You shoved another piece of salmon into your mouth as you backed up. You really hoped there weren’t any more blazes around. Or more skeletons waiting for you. You shoved yourself off the wall, hitting the wither skeleton with your shoulder to knock it back again before you struck once more, across the neck, beheading it.

The sight of three wither skulls in your inventory made you fall to your knees and you let out a sigh in relief. Your arms ached. Your wounds ached. Your head ached. Your vision doubled for a moment. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You felt great, despite how dizzy you felt at the moment. You looked at Technoblade, hoping to find him still there.

He was leaned against the wall of the fortress, watching you with crossed arms.

Was he waiting on you?

The thought made you perk up and you scrambled to stand, rushing to him while holding the skulls. “Here! I got them all!”

He merely blinked at you as you handed him all three skulls you had gotten from your fight, placing them into his inventory after a moment. He didn’t speak, just turned to descend further in. Were you supposed to follow him?

You did anyways, feeling proud of yourself. He had waited on you!

The rest of the fortress had been like that. You continuously fighting wither skeletons, blazes, regular skeletons, zombified piglins, and magma cubes, only to turn over your loot to the large warrior who would patiently wait for you. You kept a few of the bars of gold, some diamonds, and one of the saddles you had found, but ultimately, you were just spare hands to help him. The experience you were gaining was more than enough, especially since he seemed to be listening to you ramble on and on. He’d occasionally hum or grunt in response, but not much more than that. It was still such a sweet sound in your ears, despite the constant crackle of fire that just filled the nether.

He didn’t speak when he decided he was finished, just started walking back the way you came and you immediately fell into step next to him when he walked past you.

Despite your exhaustion and the pain you felt, this trip felt more than worth it.

When you returned to the bastion where you two had first met, you grinned up at him.

Techno felt his breath catch in his throat at your smile. That smile almost made the sweltering brightness of the nether feel cold and dark. He had never had someone, aside from Tommy, smile at him with such warmth. No one had a smile like yours. They were all weighed heavy with the memories from lifetimes no longer in reach. But you? You were so tired from accompanying him, still wounded from fighting for him. Aside from the couple small treasures you had hidden away, you had given him everything. There was really no reason for you to have gone with him when you received virtually nothing in return. And now you smiled at him like that? You were-

TechnoSIMP.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

“I should get going. I don’t know how dark it is and I want a bath.” He nodded at you. “I’ll catch you some other time, alright? Don’t be afraid to come by sometime if you need a buddy again, okay?”

He only hummed in response and watched you glide down the stairs of the bastion to a portal he had never noticed before.

A buddy? You weren’t a buddy. What did he really know about you?

You respawned faster than anyone else he had met. There hadn’t been another chance to test that, but you seemed unphased with your death. When you held up your hands, he couldn’t see the usual hearts on your wrist that they all shared. Even when normal members lost a life, he’s noticed that the normally red hearts are cracked and black. Phil himself had one on the center of his wrist. But yours were bare from the mark. You weren’t immortal, were you? Had he come across a god?

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

For now, he had to return to Pogtopia. He had to tell Wilbur about you. Perhaps write to Phil and ask if he knew anything about people with no or unlimited lives. He would repay your kindness at a later date.

He only hoped you wouldn’t be on the other side of this war.

#RemembranceAU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #technoblade x reader #platonic!technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #unsure if this will be a series or not?#if it does end up as one #might post multiple non canon romance options #tw: violence #tw: death

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guilty | knj x reader | chapter one: how odd

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

notes: you guys have been so amazing with your feedback on “guarded” and it warms my heart that you loved hoseok and ms. kim -- so it’s time to show mr. kim some love, too. this series will not be long (probably three parts) but i had to break it into chapters because of the POV shifts. please let me know what you think about this chapter and as usual thank you so much to all the tiger wives and my amazing betas @ladyartemesia and @hobi-gif.

this series is dedicated to the amazing @sahmfanficbts who is an incredible writer, an awesome woman, and kim namjoon’s number one fan.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

“You fired me?”

Namjoon turns at the sound of the quiet accusation that comes from over his shoulder.

There is color in your cheeks as you cross the length of his office. Your jaw is tight, one lock of hair falling free from the loose knot at the base of your neck. One perfectly-arched brow is raised high.

You look hurt.

Beautiful -- but hurt.

Guilt hits Namjoon like a freight train.

“Of course not,” he deflects, taking a seat. He picks up one of the papers scattered across his desktop and pretends to read it carefully. “I reassigned you to a position I believe will be a better fit.”

There’s no way he could miss the irritated breath you suck between your teeth but Namjoon keeps his eyes glued to that paper in his hand. He realizes, absently, that it’s a takeout menu.

He hopes you haven’t noticed the same thing.

“Well, was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Namjoon winces at the dejection in your tone. He finally forces himself to meet your gaze and finds your eyes brimming with frustration.

He certainly can’t blame you on that account -- you have every right to be frustrated. You shouldn’t be made to feel somehow lacking when it’s him who is lacking in every way that counts.

“Quite the opposite,” he says carefully. “I think it’s a waste of your skills to have you keeping my schedule and taking calls. Seokjin can make better use of your talents on the business side.”

A strained silence settles over the room and Namjoon clears his throat before looking back down to his papers.

“Well, the new girl is terrible at this,” you say flatly. “I certainly wouldn’t have let me walk in here unannounced. She’s too busy looking at her phone to look after you.”

Namjoon knows you’re right about that.

In the few short months you’ve worked for him, you’ve proven yourself to be unnaturally attuned to his needs. You knew without asking which calls he was trying to avoid and when, when to clear his schedule the day after a rough night on the streets. You’ve kept his office stocked with every comfort he’d ever wanted and some he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

You are the single best assistant he’s ever had and he couldn’t stand to keep you around for one minute longer.

You don’t wait for Namjoon to formulate some kind of response to your damning and accurate observation. By the time he looks back up from his papers, you’ve already turned on your heels to leave.

He watches you walk away with regret weighing heavy in his gut.

**************************

Namjoon’s keys clang loudly when he drops them on the table in his foyer.

This penthouse is the best apartment in one of the best buildings in Seoul. It’s filled with lavish furnishings and expensive paintings and boasts a stunning view of the Han River. It’s one of the finest residences in the city.

And Namjoon hates it.

The vacant rooms and the echoing walls seem to mock him, making him all the more aware of how empty it is. How completely devoid it is of any life. Most nights he stays at the office until he’s delirious with exhaustion just so he can collapse straight into bed once he gets here.

Tonight though, for once, this place seemed like a better option.

Namjoon pulls off his tie and releases the first few buttons of his shirt before pouring a scotch.

He’s drinking too much these days -- he knows it -- but the drinks help slow the constant movement of his mind. They help dull the anxiety that seems to take over when he’s too still for too long.

He walks to the window to look out over the night sky.

This is his favorite way to see the city -- high up enough that everything looks pristine. Get closer and you’ll be assaulted by the noise and the crowds and the pollution. Get closer and the flaws are too hard to ignore.

“Was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Your words echo as clearly in Namjoon’s mind as if you’d spoken them out loud in this cavernous apartment. He takes a seat in his plush chair and sips his drink, savoring the familiar burn of the scotch.

He thinks back to when you both were kids.

Your father -- one of the few decent men in his own father’s inner circle -- didn’t bring you around much. He can only recall a few social functions you’d attended before taking off to university. News of your father’s death came shortly after that and it had been years since Namjoon had even spared a thought for you.

Then you came walking through his office door.

You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, that much was clear.

What was much less clear was why you -- a college graduate -- turned up one day, desperate for a job. He hadn’t questioned your need for fast work and fast money and you hadn’t questioned the long hours and strange requests.

You repaid him with a flawless work ethic.

And he repaid you by fantasizing about fucking you blind over his desk basically every chance he got.

So yeah, there was a problem, all right.

The problem was Kim Namjoon.

*********************

“There you are.”

The voice on the other end of the line practically slithers into Namjoon’s ear when he answers the late call.

“Mina,” he sighs, infusing the name with a displeasure that comes through loud and clear across the connection. “This line is for business only, you know that.”

Mina makes an exasperated sound.

“I wouldn’t have to call your cell if you’d return my messages from the office. I’ve been trying to reach you for more than two weeks now. I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Namjoon pulls the phone away to allow himself a long exhale before putting it back to his ear.

“How did you get this number?”

“You’re hung up on that?” Mina groans. “Honestly, Namjoon. I reached out to your new assistant who was more than happy to pass it along.”

Fuck. He’s going to have to fire the new girl, isn’t he?

“She’s a nice girl,” Mina muses. “Far more competent than that last assistant of yours. Excellent decision on replacing that woman if she fails to complete a task as simple as delivering a message. Three messages, actually.”

Namjoon mulls that information over in silence.

“Where is your mind these days, Mr. Kim?” Mina tries to cover her displeasure with a laugh but he hears it anyway. “You’ve been so distant lately. It’s been too long since we had the chance to enjoy one another’s company.”

Namjoon can envision the pout she is wearing on the other end of the line and it aggravates him beyond belief. Pouting ranks near the very top of his least favorite female manipulation tactics.

Pouting makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he mutters. “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?”

Namjoon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around his glass.

“No, Mina,” he grinds out. “Not drunk. Just not in the mood. Not anymore.”

She sputters on the other end of the line as Namjoon ends the call.

Maybe he should feel bad about being so blunt, but he doesn’t. It’ll be a week before she’s onto the next wealthy, connected man. Women like Mina make sport of locating and latching on to power.

She’ll survive.

Namjoon stares out into the night sky and sips his scotch, letting his mind wander back to the one piece of the conversation that did capture his interest.

What are the chances that you -- a woman with seemingly unerring attention to detail -- forgot to deliver three separate messages from the same caller?

He contemplates that in the dark.

How odd.

***********************

YOU

Kim Namjoon was the most serious boy you’d ever seen.

Even as a young man, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can still close your eyes and remember exactly how he looked back then -- standing solemn at his father’s side, lanky body swimming in a suit he’d not yet grown into. His hair just a touch too long and falling into his eyes.

You thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Korea.

Namjoon kept mostly to himself -- no easy task given that his status alone made him the most celebrated catch amongst the children of the Gajog.

Everyone fought for the attention of the boy who would be king.

It would have been so easy for him to abuse the power he had over his peers, to treat them with disrespect, but Namjoon never did. You noticed how kind he was to the children who idolized him. You noticed how well he managed the volatile moods of his alcoholic father. You noticed how he hovered protectively over his sister.

He never noticed you, of course.

Your own father was careful to limit your exposure to the Gajog and as such, you lived on the outskirts of the social circle. By the time you were a teenager, you’d only spoken to Namjoon directly a handful of times. The few times you did see him face-to-face, you’d had to suffer through that awkward moment before his eyes lit with recognition.

It always took a minute for him to remember who you were, but when he finally did -- every time he finally did -- your heart would stop just a bit at his shy smile.

That was the image you held on to when you held your breath and walked into his office a few months ago. You’d taken a deep breath and prayed that the quiet, kind kid you’d known so long ago hadn’t changed too much over the years. And then you stepped into his posh office.

Kim Namjoon definitely wasn’t a kid anymore.

The Namjoon who stood up from behind his desk to bow a greeting was nothing short of devastating.

Standing in place of the slender boy from your childhood was a man with deep, dark eyes and a striking, angular face. His suit -- cut to fit every line of his body to an exacting standard -- did nothing to conceal his powerful frame. He had grown into the full lips that once seemed a bit too large for his face.

Without a doubt, he’d become the most handsome man in all of Korea.

The shy smile remained, though -- dimples prominent when Namjoon extended a hand to shake yours and you woodenly accepted, blinking back. You’d realized, absently, that you were gawking.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed the same thing.

If Namjoon had picked up on your mortifying reaction to seeing him after all these years, he was far too much of a gentleman to let on. He’d offered you a seat and then listened patiently as you explained that you were in need of a job -- any job -- so long as you could start right away.

You left out the painful details, of course.

Namjoon nodded quietly as you outlined your education and qualifications and emphasized your willingness to serve the Gajog in any role he saw fit. His eyes were warm and reassuring as you spoke, but you still braced yourself for the possibility that he’d send you away empty handed.

He didn’t.

At the end of your impassioned speech, Kim Namjoon made you an offer you could not refuse.

Reporting directly to him and starting right away.

***************************

The serious boy you’d known so many years ago had grown into an even more serious man.

It didn’t take long on the job to notice the bone-deep melancholy that seemed to emanate from Kim Namjoon. He was good at concealing it in front of others but you saw it clearly. The way he would stand at his window at night, drink in hand, brooding. The way the shadows behind his eyes would surface when he thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You wanted so badly to help.

You wanted to do something to help ease the burden he seemed to carry around at all times. So you threw yourself into the work, memorizing his routines and taking note of the things he needed. You organized his files. You streamlined his schedule. You ran interference on Yoongi and Hoseok and Seokjin on the nights when his moods turned dark and ominous.

Tiny gestures, in the grand scheme of things -- but there were days when you could convince yourself the gestures made a difference.

Days when Namjoon would look at you with a quiet appreciation that made you feel heat down to your toes. Days when his eyes would soften as you’d instinctually met some need he hadn’t voiced out loud. Days when the darkness inside of him seemed to recede and one of those heart-stopping shy smiles would emerge.

You convinced yourself over time that this was enough -- that taking care of him like this would be enough for you.

It had to be enough.

To allow yourself to imagine otherwise was nothing short of delusion.

**********************

“Eomma?”

You call out into the quiet as you lock the door behind you. You can barely make out the sound of your mother’s soft reply from her bedroom.

This is where she spends most of her days now, shuffling between her bed and her chair, too weak to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. Pill bottles litter the nightstand, obscuring the yellowing photograph of your parents as newlyweds.

“My sweet Ttal,” she rasps, voice hoarse from disuse, “You’re home.”

“I am,” you sigh, sweeping into the room and pulling off your coat. You bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead before taking a seat at her side. Your mother’s once-luminous skin is now spotted with age, eyes cloudy and dull, but she is still one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.

She flinches when you take one of her hands into your much colder ones.

“Sorry,” you murmur, massaging over the paper-thin skin. “It’s freezing outside. I should have warmed them first.”

She gives your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Home early again,” she croaks. “Is everything okay at work?”

Her innocent question brings the sadness simmering just under the surface of your thoughts back to a full boil. You still can’t understand why Namjoon chose to reassign you -- and you still can’t forget the sting of getting the news secondhand from your replacement.

Your face falls at the memory and you hope your mother doesn’t notice.

The last thing you’d want to do is add worry to her already long list of concerns.

“Yes, Eomma,” you soothe, smoothing back her hair. She leans into your touch with a tired smile. “Everything is fine. My new boss doesn’t keep me as late as the old one did. But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right,” she agrees, closing her eyes. “Mrs. Sim left just a short while ago. She brought some Japchae for dinner. Not as good as mine, but not half-bad, either.”

You laugh at the way the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile at her jest.

People like Mrs. Sim are in large part why you’ve fought so hard to keep your mother here in your childhood home. The financial strain has been tough -- particularly when paired with the medical bills -- but you need the help. With no siblings to share your burden, you’ve had to lean on the goodwill of longtime neighbors.

“Leave Mrs. Sim and her Japchae alone mother,” you tease, standing to stretch. “I’m going to get a shower before bed.”

Your mother makes a noise that sounds like approval, but you can tell she’s already drifting off again.

She’s on so many pills these days; a blessing and a curse. More pills means less pain and better rest -- something she desperately needs. But more pills also means far fewer moments of lucidity -- much shorter windows of time for you to enjoy your mother’s quick wit and dry humor.

She’s back in a sleep state before you even make to stand. You stroke your fingertips across her face just as your phone pings in your pocket. You pull it out and very nearly dismiss the routine banking alert altogether -- but something catches your eye.

You swipe into the app to confirm you’re seeing the numbers correctly -- that your tired eyes and tired mind aren’t playing games with you.

They aren’t.

The direct deposit of your paycheck is coming on the date it should, at the time it should. But the number glaring back at you from the screen is higher -- much higher -- than it should be.

A demotion and a raise in the span of one week?

How odd.

******************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

tag list: @barbikatherine

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon mafia au #bts mafia #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet

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moon-light-jukebox · 3 years

Text

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

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previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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charming-charlie · 3 years

Text

Washed Away pt. 3

Title // Washed Away pt. 3

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Teeny tiny swears, fear of dying/drowning/losing loved ones. Dead bodies unfortunately.

Summary // Who knew hanging out with Buck and Christopher for a day would lead to a life or death situation?

Word Count // 2.1k

Prompt // Hi! Can i request a fic where you were with Buck & Christopher when the tsunami hit? They could be dating or crushing on each other. If nothing comes to mind, then it’s completely fine to ignore this request! Have a nice day!’

Author’s Note // This is Part 3 of the Washed Away series. || Part 1 || Part 2

Tagged List // @aprildecker-blog @coffeewithoutcaffeine @daddysfavoritesexkitten @chenfordlove @comeasyoudar @carnationworld // If you want to be added or removed from the tagged list, please drop a note.

“I guess we are going to hang out here a little bit longer,” Buck said gently. He kept his voice smooth and low, and you knew it was to keep both you and Christopher calm.

The water was slowing down. The waves, while present, were no longer rapid and threatening. Still, you didn’t feel comfortable moving, and neither did Buck. He held onto Christopher with one arm and keeping the other next to you. It was extremely comforting having him there, despite everything that was going on.

Too bad it was suddenly short-lived.

“HELP!” a woman suddenly screamed, somewhere away from the firetruck.

Buck immediately sat up at attention and looked around. His arm slipped out of your grip and you instantly felt a sense of dread as you followed his eyesight. Just once you wanted a moment with him, just once.

Buck slowly started to stand up, staring eagle-eyed at the damage before him. He was scanning the area, sweeping his eyes left and right in search of a body to go with the voice. What was once a road full of cars and people was now a river, and there didn’t appear to be any end in sight.

“Help me!” the voice screamed again, and you knew you weren’t going crazy.

Buck was at attention, his ears trained for all sorts of desperate cries for help. There was a woman waving for aid in the water, screaming for help. You stared in horror, knowing exactly what she was feeling in that moment. The fear that this could be the end…

No, Y/N. Let’s not think about that right now. You’re fine.

“Chris, um… I need you to sit right here for me with Y/N. You promise me?” Buck crouched down to reach Christopher’s line of sight; his tone was serious.

“Yes,” Christopher said.

You wanted to shake your head and forbid Buck from leaving the firetruck. Forbid? Really?

He seemed to sense your fear and apprehension and he turned to face you. If it weren’t for the immediate danger that you were facing, you knew you would be leaping into his arms like a knockoff Disney princess, but it wasn’t that easy. It was very, very difficult to even think about letting him out of your sight, and here he was, being a damn prince and diving into the face of danger.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he looked at you, frowning slightly, like he almost didn’t believe his own words, “watch Christopher for me. Please.”

The woman was still screaming for help and Buck couldn’t wait another second. He reached for your hand and you held it tightly, but it slipped out of your grip before you even had a chance to hold on.

The ex-firefighter did what he did best. He grabbed the ladder and catapulted it off the truck so that it formed a bridge between the truck and a pile of what appeared to be a random island of cars and vehicles. Was that stable? It didn’t look very stable.

He had the firehose piled on his shoulder to use as a rope and he began walking across the very unsafe ladder bridge. You were watching him, entranced by his knowledge of survival skills, but your breath was caught in the back of your throat with each step he took. There were more than a few times where the ladder shook unevenly below his feet and he had to steady himself by putting his arms out to the side like a tightrope walker. Watching this scene was painful and yet you couldn’t look away.

He had to jump into the water to reach the woman and you lost sight of him after that. Your heart was pounding erratically in your chest and for a second you thought you wouldn’t know what to do without Evan Buckley in your life. Damn, Y/N, is this really where your mind is going?

She was still screaming for help and you saw a flash of Buck’s orange shirt climbing over one of the cars to reach her. You would’ve let out a sigh of relief but nothing about this situation was relieving.

Christopher grabbed you by the pant leg and tugged on it. Immediately you turned your attention to the little boy, feeling the beginnings of a heart attack. Was he okay?

He seemed to be. He was smiling a little, probably having no idea just how dangerous the situation was. Oh, what it must be like to be a kid, naïve and unaware of things.

“Is Buck okay?” Christopher asked. There was a slight uncertainty to his voice, and you were surprised from catching it. Maybe Christopher knew exactly what was happening all along.

You turned your head to find Buck, but you lost him again. And… there was that panic building up once more.

“Hey, I need you to let go! Let go! You’re doing great!”

You heard his voice shouting over the waves and it took a few minutes to find him in the water. Apparently, he used the hose like a rope, just as you predicted, by tying the other end to a tree and letting a woman swim towards it and grab on. It was such an impressive maneuver, something you would never have thought of in a million years.

He grabbed the flailing woman and used the rope sort of like a zip line back to the truck. You jumped to action, reaching over the edge of the truck and helping her up. She landed on the roof with a bit of a thud and your hand reached for Buck’s to help him up next.

The moment he touched your hand, the two of you froze in fear, staring at each other with bated breath.

There were more cries for help. A lot more.

He turned to look behind him and you looked straight ahead, past him. Many people were swimming to the truck, calling for help, waving their arms for attention.

Buck’s hand slipped out of yours and you tried not to notice. When were you finally going to have your moment with him? It was scaring you inside, how dependent you suddenly became on him. It wasn’t the fact that he saved you, no. It was before that. And now, there was a possibility that you two might not live through this. You hoped it was a small possibility, but it was still there. And you needed that moment with him, a moment to show him, thank him, and appreciate him for everything he has done to enrich the quality of your life. You need that moment before it is too late.

“Watch him,” Buck said as he looked at you, pointing to Christopher.

You nodded, letting him know he could count on you. You couldn’t say anything. Your voice was frozen in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

Buck clung to the hose bridge he made, and the other tsunami victims grabbed on. They half shimmied, half swam, down the hose to the truck and you were helping every single person on board. Occasionally, you would glance at Christopher, who was fine. The woman, the first one Buck saved, was next to the little boy and keeping a firm eye on him, allowing you to focus on helping the others onto the roof of the emergency vehicle.

Within minutes, the roof filled up and people were saved. Buck was the last one on board, and he flopped down, gasping for breath. You had no idea the amount of adrenaline it must’ve taken him, but yours was also wearing off. You felt exhausted, numb, and just downright over this whole thing.

He sat next to Christopher and you sat next to him, just like before everyone had to go play hero. It felt normal, and you thought that was weird. This shouldn’t be normal, none of it should, but it was. At least for now.

“You amaze me, buddy,” Buck said to Christopher. His hand reached for yours and you grabbed it instinctively as Buck turned to face you. “And you amaze me too.”

If it weren’t for the insane flooding and sitting on a firetruck boat, you knew your heart would be skipping beats left and right. Was this the moment?

“Oh, no. Do you see that?”

“Look over there.”

The other people in the truck started speaking up, softly at first, but enough to grab your attention along with Buck. Cool, this was not the moment.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw. Dead bodies started floating down and Buck immediately turned to Christopher and tried to distract the boy from seeing them. He picked Christopher up and sat him on the edge of the truck so that his back was facing the bodies as they floated down the watery road.

Your hand was on Buck’s shoulder to steady yourself as you tried to look away. You dealt with dead people often, it was part of your job as a nurse. But this… this was different. The people in the water shouldn’t be dead, and that’s what made the whole situation sick.

Buck’s smile turned into a frown as he watched the victims float on by, and he turned back to look at you. There was something unreadable in his eyes.

The horrible moment passed, and people took their spots back on the roof. Christopher, Buck, and you sat in your usual section toward the front of the truck and for now, you just waited.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell your father,” Buck spoke up, speaking to Christopher, “I take you out one time and uh… look what happens.”

“You saved me,” Christopher said in reply, like he didn’t have to think about it, “you saved Nurse Y/N, and you saved them.”

The crowd of people on the roof of the truck were waiting, looking around, being quiet, but the gesture was clear enough. Buck definitely did something remarkable today and you were hoping he saw it. You hoped he saw just how amazing he was and how brave, heroic, and daring his decisions were to save everybody on the truck. Hell, he saved you, and that’s not something you plan to let slip from his memory. You owed him your life at this point.

“No,” Buck said, and he turned to look at you, talking to both you and Christopher at the same time, “we did that together. Me and you make a great team.”

Christopher moved in and hugged Buck, and the ex-firefighter wasted no time hugging the little boy back. Using his other arm, he pulled you into the hug as well, and it was nice. A small group hug with the three of you.

And then…

All the sudden, the water was rising and splashing around the truck. Harsh waves crashed against the truck, pushing against it. The vehicle lopped and shook within the water, feeling unstable for the first time. Trash and various items were scratching against the sides, sending piercing screeches to your sensitive ears.

Buck was on his feet quickly. He watched what was going on with eagle eyes, staring hard. It was like his brain was calculating the best course of action, but too much was happening too soon, and he couldn’t land on a solution quick enough.

People started falling off the truck and into the water.

Buck, gripping Christopher with one arm and you with the other, yelled at people to get down. Seeking shelter was the best course of action but it was hard to hear him over the waves.

It felt like another tsunami, another surge.

A man screamed for help, someone who had fallen overboard. You quickly rushed to the side, and Buck was right behind you. You held out your hand to reach for the man, Buck was holding onto you so that you wouldn’t fall in. You don’t know what propelled you to act this way, but you did. Instinct took over. You grabbed him, pulled him out of the water, and Buck moved next to you to help you. Together, the two of you heaved the man onto the hood of the firetruck.

But something happened.

Something crashed into the truck, so quick and powerful, that your grip on the man was broken and he fell back into the harsh rapids. Buck’s first response was to grab you firmly so that you wouldn’t fall in after him. Thankfully you didn’t but a certain realization hit you soon enough.

Both of you scrambled off the hood of the truck and looked at the people remaining.

Christopher wasn’t there. The little boy was nowhere in sight.

#Buck #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #buck x reader #buck x you #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 fic #christopher diaz #oliver stark

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pandaponderart · 3 years

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Underrated Anime Part 1:

Hello my fellow Weebs, I’m back for some more Anime blogging, this time to talk about so not so well known ones. Some that have got forgotten with time, some that new Anime fans have maybe never heard of and the ones that I feel deserve more love and recognition. I’ve been watching Anime for about 13 years so I’ve seen a lot so this will be in at least 3 parts, so hopefully you like this and look forward to more. Til then enjoy, hope you can find some new anime you’ve never heard of thanks for reading and look forward to part 2!.

1. Azumanga Daioh(2002)

Starting off with an older Anime, and one of the best and earlier comedy, slice of life Anime that paved the way for a lot of other Anime in the same genre like Nichijou and Daily Lives of High School Boys. Off the wall and highly unrealistic, this comedy is completely over the top in the best way possible. it’s old but gold and should be crowned as one of the best comedy Anime to exist.

With the most lovable cast, you have Chiyo the 5th grader who is so crazy smart she gets placed in a high school class, then there’s Osaka, who’a real name is Ayumu Kasuga who’s named that because she‘s from Osaka. Osaka isn’t the smartest and neither is her other classmate Tomo Takino who will do anything to avoid studying. Then to balance out the cast is Koyomi Mizuhara aka Yomi, the smart one who keeps everyone in line and Kagura the sporty one. Then of course can’t forget to mention the teachers Yukari Sensei who is anything but the normal responsible teacher and to balance her out Minamo Sensei the responsible one. There’s no real plot with Azumanga Daioh but there’s not meant to be it’s just an over the top comedy slice of life, with moments that will make you laugh from your gut. It’s all about the characters and the ridiculous situations their put in and each one is a lovable idiot that really drives the show. Give this one a shot if you want a show that will put a big smile on your face the whole way through.

2. Eden of The East (2009)

Another older Anime, not everything on this list will be older Anime but there’s so many good ones like this!. Eden of The East is an action, mystery with elements of romance with one of the most unique stories I’ve seen in Anime. It’s a short watch being only eleven episodes with two movies following after which I recommend watching because they continue the story. I’m really surprised not more people know or talk about this show but it need to be talked about more!.

With one of the funniest and most bizarre starts to an Anime, our lead charcter Saki is on a trip to Washington D.C, when she gets in trouble for throwing a coin in the White House’s fountain she’s saved by a naked man who claims to be a terrorist. Not only is this mysterious man naked and claims to be a terrorist, he also has amnesia and is carrying a phone with 8.2 million dollars. Saki befriends this strange man and throughout the story they try to uncover more of his past, his involvment in an incident called careless monday and a dangerous death game with other players. They must also spend all of the money as instucted by the mysterious voice in the phone Juiz as well as try to save the world.

3. R.O.D The TV( 2003)

Ok I know I said this list wouldn’t only be older Anime but I guess the older Anime just has my heart and this one has a special place in mine. One of my all time favorites and one of the earliest Anime I saw and it still holds up to me til this day. It is hands down probably the most underrated show on this entire list and if you only watch one of these Anime please make it this one. The story is completely original, the characters are complex and endearing, there’s action, heartwarming moments, comedy and mystery, I wish there was more Anime like it, it deserves to be a classic.

It‘s a one of a kind show about the paper sisters Michelle, the oldest bubbly bookworm, Maggie the seemingly intimidating quiet giant. Then you have the youngest sister Anita who unlike her sisters hates books, she’s a bit rough around the edges but loves her sisters. Although they aren’t actually sisters they have a detective agency to help find lost books to help pay for rent while also doing odd jobs like being body guards. Their first assignment is to protect the author, Nenene Sumiragawa who is being threatened to be killed at her book signing. The paper sisters aren’t called that just because of their love of books, they can turn paper into weapons and whatever else they please, but each having their speciality. Nenene finds out they‘re paper sisters just like her friend who ‘s missing, Yomiko Readman and asks them for help finding her. They try to help Nenene find her friend, while solving other cases and saving the world with the power of paper.

4. Baccano(2007)

Probably the most well known but also I think one of the most under appreciated Anime, from Durarara’s creator, Baccano. I feel like most newer Anime fans won’t know this one and although it’s a beloved series by many, I still feel it’s underrated. Also another bias opinion shocker, it’s one of my absolute favorites but that’s why it’s here. It’s once again a shorter anime with only 13 episodes but it somehow manages to combine all of the storylines cohesively, it’s a wild ride full of mystery, murder, and magic that will keep you on board the entire time trying to piece everything together. Also warning it jumps around a lot so make sure to pay attention everything pieces together!.

Based in the 1930’s in the prohibition era you have several stories involving different characters going on but they‘re all connected to one thing the transcontinental train, the flying pussyfoot. Yes that’s actually the name of the train, why, still no idea but all these characters from different walks of life end up here somehow. Now to introduce some of these crazy characters, first off the goofy thieves in love Isaac and Miria, who aren’t the brightest but can steal just about anything. Lad Russo the sadistic hit man who loves to see people die, including fantasizing about killing his fiancé one day. Then you have the ones involved in gangs, all In different ones, but nonetheless involved in some sort of crime. First there’s Firo, the youngest of the Martello family and one of the immortals in the show, then there’s Jacuzzi Splot and his partner Nice, Jacuzzi is a big wimp and crybaby but will protect his loved ones with all he’s got and Nice is a bomb expert and his childhood food. Those are some of the main characters it’s such a large cast it’s hard to name and explain them all. This one is a must watch especially if you liked Durarara, jump on the hype train of this wild show.

5. Black Cat (2005)

Now quick disclaimer before I begin talking about this one, I haven’t watched this in years so it may not hold up as well as I’m remembering but when I watched it I really enjoyed it so that’s why it’s here. This was one of the earlier Anime I watched I’m pretty sure my friend showed me it but it caught my interest from the beginning. It’s not the most groundbreaking show to exist and I’ve heard that the manga is apparently better but that’s for almost every show. It’s got cool action, funny moments and a great cast of characters, plus not gonna lie I had a crush on train when I was younger. its just a fun show and definitely worth giving a watch!

Train Heartnett is an infamous cold blooded assassin who works for the organization Chronos, and because of his lack of empathy for killing he’s named Black Cat. But after a chance encounter with a bou hunter named Saya Minatsuki, they become friends and Train decided he wants to leave Chronos to pursue an honest living as a bounty Hunter. However chronos and particular his fellow member Creed Diskenth are not pleased with this and try to get Train to rejoin Chronos. Along the way Train teams up with fellow bounty hunter on the brink of broke Sven, the bio mech weapon and little girl Eve and master thief and seductress Rinslet Walker. Together they try to escape from Chronos and get enough money for their next .

6. Arakawa Under The Bridge(2010)

Where do I begin with this one first off, this is one of the weirdest Anime I’ve ever seen but just like Azumanga Daioh that’s what make it so good. Beautifully animated by Studio Shaft with some of the most colorful and visually appealing animation I’ve seen, it’s pure eye candy. it’s equally as strange as it is hilarious and it’s just a fun time that’s not meant to be taken seriously. So if you want a good laugh and something thats truly one of a kind in story and characters give this crazy show a shot.

The show begins with one of our main characters Kou Ichinomiya getting stuck by his underwear on a bridge by some kids, he falls into the river and is saved by a mysterious girl. Kou is the son of a wealthy businessman and his life motto is to not be indebted to anyone, so when he’s saved by this girl he asks what he can do. He finds out that her name is Nino and what she wants is to fall in love, so she asks Kou to be her boyfriend. At first Nino seems like a regular girl but she claims to be an alien from Venus and lives in a box under the bridge, not wanting to be in debt Kou agrees and begins living under the bridge with Nino. However Nino isn’t the only one who lives under the bridge there are many other strange characters like hoshi, the aspiring musician who wears a star on his head, and the captain who’s a human in a kappa suit. I highly suggest watching this strange sci-fi romantic comedy for something different and fun to watch.

7. 91 Days (2016)

The newest Anime on this list so far, see I told you it wouldn’t be only old ones!, this is also the darkest Anime on this list so far. This has been highly overlooked since it’s release in 2016, it reminds me of baccano and in parts like death note. If you like mafia movies or just a dark gritty story with some light hearted moments, it s short show but nothing is rushed and it’s solid from front to back and keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Just like Baccano, 91 Days takes place in the prohibition era in a town called Lawless where crime is rampant and illegal alcohol sales are thriving. In this town our protagonist Aviicio‘s family is killed by one of the mafia families, The Vanetti Family. He receives a mysterious anonymous letter telling him to return to lawless to infiltrate The Vanetti Family. He tries to befriend the families son Nero, to find an opportunity for revenge, the story keep you constantly guessing if they’ve truly become friends or if he’ll kill him. Please watch this wonderful mafia crime drama of friend vs foe.

8. Yamada Kun and The Seven Witches (2015)

This is one of the ones that I still really want to read the manga for because I just couldn’t get enough of it! i’m still hoping for a sequel one day! The premise of body swapping has been done many times in Anime and cinema as a whole but this one adds a unique enough of a twist to keep it fresh and interesting. I looked forward to watching this weekly each week meeting a learning about each new witch and learning what power they had.

Ryuu Yamada is a high school delinquent who wants a fresh start at a new school, despite the intention to start with a clean slate he soon falls into old habits of laziness and getting into fights. One day he trips on the stairs which leads to an accidental kiss with fellow student Urarara Shiraishi which causes them to switch bodies. Another student Toranosuke Miyamura learns that they can switch bodies and recruits them to his Supernatural Studies club. There they learn about the other seven witches that all have different powers

9. Arslan Senki (2015-2016)

The second to last of the list comes from the creator of my all time favorite Anime Fullmetal Alchemist, while it’s a very different series and not quite as good as FMA it’s still deserves a spot on this list and deserves your time. It’s hard not to compare it to FMA but it really is it’s own thing, and it actually came out before Fullmetal, it’s a historical drama about war and strategy and a character growing into his potential. Just as Hiromu Arakawa is known for there’s still some comedic moments and some great character development and a well done story, Plus if you like this there’s two seasons so there more to enjoy.

Ok I promise from this point forward I won‘t say anything more about Fullmetal Alchemist this is about Arslan Senki, here’s the story. In the year 320 the Kingdom of Pars is at war with the neighboring kingdom Lusitania. Pars is ruled by the ruthless king Andrangoras III who has a son who’s the complete opposite of him Arslan. Although he doesn’t know how to fight Arslan tries to prove his worth by joining the battle, but things take a turn for the worst when one of the kings officials betrays him. The once prosperous Kingdom of Pars is seized, and since Arslan is the kings son he must flee to avoid capture. So he sets off with his loyal bodyguard Daryun to find allies to help take back the kingdom. Knowing that Arslan is still alive he is still faced with pursuers from other kingdoms and the head of the Lusitania army, a mysterious man with a silver mask who knows a secret that could jeopardize Arslan‘s succession to the throne. Arslan is a gentle, kind person that doesn’t enjoy fighting, he must learn to fight and protect himself and gain the courage to lead an army to regain his home.

10. Shingeki No Bahamut: Genesis (Rage of Bahamut) (2014)

Leaving one of the best for last, not to be confused with the popular series with a similar name Shingeki no Kyojin(Attack on Titan) this show is just as good. One of the first shows from one of my favorite Anime studios, Studio Mappa. I had low expectations when I heard this was a card game adaptation from a new anime studio but I decided to check it out despite that and it was the best decision. This has all the elements of a great anime, the beautiful animation, the unique characters and the compelling story and all the cool action scenes are just a plus. There is a second season too but I’ll leave that for another time, ok time to stop gushing about this wonderful show, time for the story!.

Years and years ago the ancient powerful dragon Bahamut reeked havoc on Mistarcia, a land where gods and demons lived harmoniously with humans. The gods and demons manage to seal away Bahamut with the god key and agree to split it to keep him sealed. Now that the the peace has been restored we meet the main characters and one of my favorites the orange Afro haired bounty hunters Favaro Leone. Favaro is constantly on the run from his adversary and fellow bounty hunter Kaiser Lidfard who‘s main purpose in life is to get revenge on him. One day both of their lives are thrown into chaos when they meet the mysterious girl Amira who holds half of the god key sealing Bahamut and wants help reaching the land of Helheim. I also can’t forget to mention my other favorite character and the fourth member of this unlikely crew Rita the zombie necromancer little girl she is just the definition of cool. Then there’s the characters that want to steal the god key the demon Azazel and the knight Jean D’Arc who are constantly in the characters way but you’ll find out more about them in the show. These unlikely heroes must face the threat of the battle of gods and demons, the pursuers of the god key and incoming threat of Bahamut awakening.

#anime #anime gif #anime blog #blog #art blog #blog post #new blog #azumanga daioh #manga #baccano #91 days #eden of the east #arakawa under the bridge #black cat #yamada kun to 7 nin no majo #R.O.D the tv #r.o.d #digital art

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btxtreads · 3 years

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Epirus || Choi Soobin

Part of the Olympus Falls Series

➴ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader ➴ Word Count: 11.5k ➴ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slowburn ➴ Warnings for this teaser: none ➴ Warnings for this fic: mentions of war, death, mentions of death, soul exchange, ghosts/spirits, a trial, implied smut, a disappearing fetus

Even when chosen one succumbs to the fields,

the hero will never yield.

To save Olympus and finish the war,

Is everyone’s final goal thus far.

The son of Zeus stands high and proud,

While the other watches happily from the ground.

The war is to end when the other is safe and sound,

To break the chains keeping Olympus bound.

Y/N collapsed on the floor, her mind racing a mile a minute.

Joonhyuk is dead.

From behind her, she can hear Ari—daughter of Aphrodite and Joonhyuk’s girlfriend—break into hysterics.

Bongjoo—son of Demeter—fretted over the girl and Beomjae—son of Athena—wracked his mind for solutions to the current dilemma.

“What do you mean my brother is dead?” Y/N muttered from her spot at the floor.

No one bothered to reply.

In that one corner, she never felt as alone as she did.

She just lost her little brother, the boy who has been by her side through everything—her little protege who never let the title son of Zeus get in his head.

Joonhyuk, the savior of the prophecy, is dead.

Beomjae’s eyes softened as Y/N pulled herself up.

“He—Joonhyuk can’t die, guys. The prophecy said he’s the hero, the son of Zeus. He’s the only son of Zeus so—“ Y/N stuttered out.

Beomjae approached the girl with a soothing pat on her shoulders.

“I-I know, I don’t understand either, Y/N,” Beomjae sighed.

“We can’t win the war without him,” Bongjoo mumbled.

“Is there any way to get him back?” Ari sobbed. “I love him—I want him back!”

Y/N whirled around to the grieving girl, fire in her eyes as she snarled.

“Can you stop being selfish for once?!” Y/N growled.

Ari cried harder as she glared at the daughter of Zeus.

“Y/N, that’s enough,” Beomjae mumbled soothingly as he pulled the angry girl away. “I can think of a way,”

“What?”

“Souls have been saved from the Underworld before, through diplomacy and negotiation with Hades,” Beomjae offered.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Ari asked weakly.

“I think so,” Beomjae sighed.

“I think we can pull it off and reason with Hades—after all, it is the war of the gods we’re fighting,” Bongjoo sighed, still comforting Ari.

“Okay, not to be pessimistic—but this is Hades we’re talking about,” Y/N said. “One: we’re not fighting the war of the gods—we’re fighting the war to save Olympus. If you haven’t noticed, Hades is the god that hates Olympus. I doubt he’d care,”

Ari opened her mouth to talk, but Y/N continued her rant.

“Two: This isn’t a Disney cartoon. You can’t just go down and go all Hercules and steal a soul off Styx—Styx doesn’t even have the souls. We won’t know where Joonhyuk is,”

Ari started to cry once more as Beomjae sighed.

“Well, do you have any other solutions?”

Y/N stopped talking, lips pursed as she thought of another loophole.

There wasn’t.

“Well?” Beomjae asked.

Y/N sighed, grabbing her coat from a nearby rack.

“Fine, but I’m going with you,” Y/N said, grumbling under her breath. “If this fails, I told you so,”

Y/N pulled on the loose threads on her jacket as she groaned.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now,” Y/N hissed.

“Better believe it, we’re here,” Beomjae scolded as he cleared his throat as he looked up at the gigantic door leading to Hades’ castle.

“How exactly do we get in?” Bongjoo asked, flinching as Ari scoffed.

“The faster we get in,” Ari said, stomping forward and pushing the other three demigods out of the way. “The faster I get him back,”

Y/N blinked as Ari pounded on the gigantic wooden door with a scream.

“Hades, let us in!” Ari screamed hysterically. “Let us in!”

Y/N pulled Ari away.

“Calm down—we don’t want to infuriate the god—“

Click!

The four demigods looked over at the wooden doors swung open.

Another wooden door was visible at the end of the hall.

Ari brushed Y/N’s hand off her shoulder to shoot the girl a glare.

“You we’re saying?” Ari hissed as she stomped in the castle with an arrogant pep in her step.

“That’s it—we’re going to die,” Y/N said, smacking her lips as she followed Ari into the hall.

As they neared the second door, it swung open as well—and they were met with a man their age.

He was decked in a black turtleneck and jeans as he slumped on the throat—head propped on his palm as he looked onto the group.

“Hi,” he sighed, straightening up. “What can I do for you?”

His voice was so deep, charming—simply alluring.

There was no reply as the demigods looked at each other.

Y/N stepped forward, clearing her throat as she looked at the boy straight in the eyes.

Very cute boy—with long legs, jet-black hair, bright brown eyes, upturned lips.

“We would like to speak with Lord Hades,” Y/N spoke, voice firm and determined.

The boy smiled, chuckling silently as he tilted his head.

“You are speaking to Hades,” The boy laughed.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she turned back to her companions.

By those words, Ari was gaping, Bongjoo looked confused and Beomjae just looked downright shocked.

“Y-You’re Hades?” Ari asked, holding a hand to her mouth. “I thought you’re like 43? You’re not 43—you’re cute!”

Hades blinked on his throne before looking back down at Y/N, coughing awkwardly.

“I—uh—I look like this usually,” The god muttered as he fidgeted in his throne.

He cleared his throat before smiling once more.

“Anyway, what can I do for you?” He asked.

Y/N was mesmerized as every move of the boy made the diamond jewelry on his body glint in the firelight.

She shook her head as Hades looked at her expectantly.

“My brother—his name is Joonhyuk, son of Zeus. He’s the hero of the prophecy for the current war, but he died,” Y/N spoke.

“Prophecy?” The god asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Like, the war of Olympus prophecy?”

“Yes,”

The god look taken aback as he opened his mouth.

“Oh, but,” Hades frowned. “he’s dead, and even I can’t dictate what the fates would decide. If he’s dead, he’s dead,”

“He can’t die, my lord,” Beomjae started, stepping up next to Y/N. “He’s our only chance at winning—and you’re our only chance at getting him back,”

Y/N turned back to the god as he only tilted his head.

Beomjae launched into a monologue of explanation.

“Orpheus and Eurydice—you gave Orpheus a chance to get Eurydice back,” Beomjae reasoned.

“I knew he was going to look back,” The god shrugged. “Wouldn’t cost me a soul, so—“

“Please, Hades,” Ari pleaded.

“I don’t get paid for this shit,” Hades sighed, running a hand through his hair and smiling tiredly over at the demigods. “Fine. There is a way,”

“We’ll do it!” Ari said, stepping up. “What is it, my Lord?”

“I need a soul in exchange of Joonhyuk—there needs to be a balance,” Hades sighed. “There are other ways but this is the guaranteed—fastest—way,”

Y/N turned over to her friends, who started to talk amongst themselves.

“Guys? What do we do?”

Ari started to tear up once more, and Bongjoo looked lost.

For the first time, the son of Athena was lost for words as his shoulders slumped.

“I-I don’t know,” Beomjae said silently.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” Hades said, frowning. “But that’s the way—even gods have rules to follow,”

Y/N screwed her eyes shut as she stepped forward more.

“I’ll do it,”

All heads snapped over to her.

As she opened her eyes, her gaze locked with Hades.

“If I do this—there’s a guarantee that Joonhyuk will survive, right?” Y/N asked.

Slowly, the god nodded.

“Yes, you have my word,”

“You swear?”

“I swear on the River Styx,”

There was a strike of thunder, sealing the deal.

Y/N closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she turned back to her friends.

Ari’s tears started pouring out as Beomjae gasped in shock.

“Y/N—“

“Bongjoo—make sure you three make your way up with Joonhyuk, alright?”

The boy nodded sadly.

“Beomjae—You are so smart,” Y/N smiled softly as she patted the younger’s hair. “And with you and Joonhyuk fighting side-by-side, you’ll win this,”

Beomjae only regarded the girl with soft, sad eyes.

“Ari,” Y/N started, taking the girl’s hands. “We may have had our differences—but I know you, and I know you love Joonhyuk. Can you tell him I love him, too?”

Ari sobbed harder as she launched herself on the girl.

When they pulled away, there was a hand that landed on Y/N’s shoulder.

The girl tensed up as she felt Hades’ tall presence behind her.

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” Hades soothed before looking up at her companions. “Joonhyuk will be outside the throne room,”

As the other demigods bid their goodbyes and made their way out, Y/N turned around slowly to look over at the god.

“Lord Hades,” She said softly, bowing.

“No! No, none of that!” The god rushed, burning red as he shook his head fiercely. “And—uh, call me Soobin,”

“Soobin?”

“That’s my name,” The god nodded slowly. “Hades is just the title—but, uh, I’m Soobin,”

“Soobin,” Y/N mumbled, letting his name roll on her tongue before she looked back up at the god—boy—with a frown. “Shall I proceed to the Fields of Asphodel, then?”

“No,” Soobin said, smiling softly as he shook his head once more. “I’ll show you to your room upstairs.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel bad for you, for essentially keeping you here against your will,” Soobin shrugged, walking forward as Y/N followed behind him. “Letting you stay in the castle instead of being lost in the Fields is the least I can do—you technically aren’t dead, anyway.”

“If you really feel bad, you’d let me go back with my friends,”

The boy turned his head back, shooting the girl a sympathetic look.

“I’m really sorry, but you know I can’t do that—it’s either one of you or him. You were the one that wanted to stay,”

“Yeah,” Y/N pursed her lips as she looked out at the window they were passing—catching a quick glimpse of her former companions.

This time, there was another figure—a tall boy with brown hair—following them. Joonhyuk.

“I know,” Y/N sighed sadly as Soobin shot her a sad smile.

“I hope you at least like your room,” Soobin offered as he threw open a set of double-doors. “Take a look,”

Y/N sat on the couch, uncomfortable as Soobin sat across from her—completely immersed on the novel he held in his hands.

“Big library,” Y/N squeaked out.

Soobin smiled as he set his book down.

“You didn’t have to say yes to accompanying me here if you were that uncomfortable being with me, you know,” Soobin said, eyes amused as he looked over at Y/N.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m great!” Y/n said, as she reached out to take a random scroll of parchment nearby. “I’m just going to read this parchment!”

Soobin chuckled as he turned back to his book.

Y/N cleared her throat, wincing at her awkwardness as she unrolled her parchment—eyes scanning the words on the paper.

Today, I took a stroll on the beautiful gardens of the Underworld. I particularly loved the Scintilla blossoms and the Gumamelas. Strangely, there was a bush of white roses with golden outlines. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Maybe it was being grown for me? I feel like he really is in love with me—despite what my family tells me. I do feel more and more endeared to Hades—Soobin. I grow more and more in love.

Persephone.

Y/N blinked as she let her hand run through the parchment.

“Persephone,” She mumbled.

“What was that?” Soobin asked, raising his head once more.

“Oh, nothing,” Y/N shook her head as she passed him the parchment. “Just—uh—read a little something,”

“Ah,” Soobin winced as he glanced at the handwriting. “Persephone.”

“You must really love her to start a whole flower garden for her, huh? And a new type of rose?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. “I want to be loved like that—I mean, minus the kidnapping—No offense.”

Soobin chuckled as he rolled the parchment once more.

“None taken, seeing as I didn’t grow a garden for Persephone, or make a new kind of rose for her,” Soobin shrugged. “or even kidnap her. I did none of those.”

“What?” Y/N blinked.

“Hm, how do I start?” Soobin smiled, adjusting his sitting on the couch. “I saved Persephone. I didn’t kidnap her,”

“But Demeter?”

“Demeter nags. She nags a lot,” Soobin snorted. “But no, I didn’t kidnap Persephone or anything—I never even married Persephone, or wanted to. I didn’t like her like that. I didn’t like anyone,”

Y/N pursed her lips as Soobin fiddled with his thumbs.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as the god narrated his story, laying himself and his history bare in front of the demigod.

“So, if that all didn’t happen—what exactly happened?”

“Well, I saved her—she was in an open field. There was a god rampaging that day, and he saw Persephone. Left alone, who knows what could happen to her?” Soobin shrugged. “She was a sweet kid and I was there anyways, so I figured—sure, why not? She did stay here for a while, I accommodated her though I kept telling her to go back to her mom in Olympus. She didn’t want to. It felt rude to kick her out, so I didn’t,”

“So, what gave Demeter the impression you kidnapped her?”

“I don’t know,” Soobin shrugged. “She just came down here and started calling me a kidnapper. Persephone didn’t defend me or anything,”

“Why did you make Persephone go back and forth, then?”

“Please,” Soobin snorted, smiling at the girl. “That’s not true—notice she’s not here? It’s drought season,”

Y/N nodded slowly, processing the information as Soobin cleared her throat.

“I never made her go back and forth—I never wanted to be with her. I never wanted to marry anyone, really,” Soobin said as he mumbled under his breath. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,”

“That’s got to suck—Why?” Y/N smiled sympathetically as she tilted her head.

Soobin cleared his throat as he shrugged.

“I—uh—think Aphrodite hates me? I’ve never loved anyone or had anyone fall in love with me,” He said. “It’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just that I haven’t felt it, so,”

“I don’t understand,” Y/N said—curiously taking the bait to peek into the life of a god. “gods fall in love all the time—you guys literally have sex all the time,”

Soobin laughed.

“Sex, sure—I had it,” Soobin smiled. “But never love. It’s scary—have you seen Orion, Medusa, Helen, Cleopatra?”

“Not all love stories end in tragedy, you know.” Y/N said, frowning as Soobin shrugged.

“My life is a tragedy—I’d be more surprised if my love wouldn’t be,”

As Soobin shot the girl a small smile and returned to his novel, Y/N had an epiphany—Hades was never the villain of the story.

Hades was just a victim of Olympus—thrown away and used as a scapegoat when he was just a kind and gentle creature too shy to defend himself from all the allegations thrown to him by the gods playing protagonist.

Hades—Soobin—was just the misunderstood outcast living under the shadow of Zeus and Poseidon.

It was her next to Joonhyuk—and Beomjae, Ari and Bongjoon.

Maybe, for the first time, she finally found somebody understood how she felt all these years.

It just so happened he was the god of the dead.

Y/N laughed as Soobin scrunched his nose, grip tight on his fork.

“I’m not the god of death, okay? I’m god of the dead.” Soobin scoffed as he stabbed into a plate of ambrosia. “Death is Thanatos.”

Y/N shook her head as she took a bite of her eggs.

Soobin looked at her with a tilt of the head.

“You know—you’re technically a soul. You can eat ambrosia by the bulk now,” Soobin said, pointing over to the big serving plate of ambrosia in front of him.

“I—um—like the sense of humanity,” Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

Still confused, Soobin nodded.

“So, um, are you busy today?”

Y/N looked up, raising an eyebrow at Soobin.

“I mean I have nothing to do here, so—“

“Right, right,” Soobin said, coughing awkwardly. “I just—have a free day? I was thinking maybe I could show you around the castle.”

Y/N bit her lip, smiling softly.

“Yeah, Okay,” She said with a chuckle. “I’d love that.”

After breakfast, Y/N found herself taking a stroll at the castle gardens with Soobin by her side.

This time the boy wore a loose, white, collared shirt, black slacks and black dress shoes—the whole ensemble fitting him just right.

His hair was styled delicately—black hair perfectly parted by his forehead.

He looked ethereal.

Y/N shook herself out of her stupor as Soobin bent down to admire the sunflowers growing out of a small patch in the gardens.

Soobin turned to Y/N waving her over, making her smile and press closer to the flowers and to Soobin.

“Sunflowers are actually my favorite,” Soobin confessed as he caressed the petals of the flower. “These are one of the first plants I had growing here. Don’t you think they look pretty?”

Y/N smiled as she reached out to the flowers herself.

“Pretty,” she agreed.

She wondered how these flowers, especially ones that thrived on as much sunlight as it could muster, prospered underground in the world of the dead, but as she looked over to Soobin who smiled fondly at his garden, she realized that she was with someone who could do the impossible.

Soobin looked over at her, chuckling as he stood up.

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“Roses,” Y/N answered without a beat.

A look of recognition flashed in Soobin’s eyes as he dragged her over to another area of the gardens.

“Remember when you read about the white and gold roses that I made?” Soobin smiled, presenting her with a rosebush in full-bloom.

“Oh,” She gasped. “Oh, wow.”

Soobin smiled, letting his hand wander over the bush and pluck a rose off—expertly cutting it off.

“Soobin—the thorns—“

“Here,” he smiled, giving it to the girl.

Y/N blinked as she looked over at the rose—no thorns.

“I—no thorns?”

“Nope,” Soobin smiled as Y/N reluctantly accepted the flower. “Nothing can hurt you here, Y/N, not even a flower—so don’t worry. I got you,”

Y/N smiled as she smelled the flower in her hands.

“It smells nice,” She commented as she looked around, smiling at the gardens. “It’s beautiful—everything is beautiful,”

Soobin smiled, letting his eyes dance on her face as he echoed her words.

“Beautiful,” Soobin said, his hands reaching out to brush Y/N’s hair away from her face. “You’re beautiful.”

Her shocked eyes snapped over to his equally wide ones, but none of them pulled away or made a move to stop the action.

Then, she smiled.

“You’re beautiful, too,”

It was dangerous—what she’s doing— growing fonder and fonder of the boy who swore up and down that was scared of falling in love.

It’s alright.

This feeling was probably nothing, anyways.

Y/N smiled, leaning on the gates of hell as she chuckled.

Soobin groaned as he rolled his sleeves back to his elbows, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

This time, the boy wore a loose grey hoodie and kept his hair undone.

He looked so, for a lack of a better word, boyfriend.

Y/N winced—she just called the god of dead so boyfriend.

That was disgusting.

Still, she couldn’t help but observe the male as he picked up a gigantic red ball and tutted at the three-headed dog.

“Cerberus. Here, buddy!” He whistled before throwing the ball up.

The dog—dogs?—yipped as they shot up for the right head take a bite of the ball.

It, then, leaned down to place the slobber-covered ball by Soobin’s feet.

Soobin frowned, looking back at Y/N.

“You know, I still can’t believe you convinced me to play ball with Cerb,” Soobin deadpanned as Y/N walked forward—black skirt trailing behind her as she wrapped her arm around Soobin’s.

“Aw, come on—you’re having fun, I can tell,” Y/N laughed as Soobin sighed, picking the ball back up.

Y/N laughed at the sight—the ball was the size of an extra-large-sized Yoga Ball that almost engulfed Soobin.

“You come here and throw it, then!” Soobin humphed, passing the ball over to the girl.

Y/N yelped as her hands made contact with the slobber-covered ball.

“Soobin—“ She started to whine before she looked up to see Cerberus’ three heads looking down at her with bared tongues and a furiously wagging tail.

“Uh,” Y/N started, stopping short when hands wrapped around hers and a body pressed on her back.

“Okay, just uh—Throw the ball up so he doesn’t crush the spirits coming into the underworld,“ Soobin guided her. “and then—uh—step out of the way so he doesn’t crush you too. It’s not fun,”

Y/N nodded stiffly as Soobin adjusted her grip on the ball, his hands falling down to her waist.

“Okay, and go,”

Y/N threw the ball up.

As Cerberus leaped up to catch the ball, Soobin’s hands gripped her waist and roughly pulled her back and out of Cerberus’ way.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled, falling back.

Soobin groaned as he fell down, Y/N’s weight crushing him.

“I—am so sorry—“ Y/N stuttered, turning around.

Immediately, both of them froze with bright red blushes.

Soobin’s hands rested on her hips as she sat directly on his lap and hovered over him.

Soobin gulped, eyes locked onto Y/N as she burned redder.

“Oh, um—“ Y/N rushed, pulling herself off of Soobin. “Sorry,”

“S’okay,” Soobin smiled softly, a fiery red blush on his cheeks as he gestured over to the chimera. “But—uh, look. Told you you’d get crushed if we didn’t move,”

Indeed, Cerberus was plopped down on the place where they previously stood—middle head happily gnawing on the red ball.

“Oh, that’s uh—great—“

Soobin and Y/N turned away from each other—the latter with a soft smile on her face.

He gets cuter and cuter by the day.

Soobin chuckled as Y/N propped her elbow on the dining table, staring fondly at the boy.

This time—the god wore a silk black shirt with a collar, then an expensive-looking black blazer over it.

Y/N had to hold her praises back because dear gods, he looked so good.

“So,” Y/N spoke. “Do you want to hang out today—“

Immediately, Soobin frowned sadly and sighed.

“I wish I could, but I have work,” Soobin shrugged sadly. “God of dead things to attend to,”

“Oh,” Y/N said dejectedly, looking back down on her plate.

“I’m really sorry,” Soobin frowned, reaching out to place his hand over hers and running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“No, no—it’s okay! It’s your job, of course you have to go,” Y/N shook her head, before her eyes widened with mischief. “but that doesn’t mean you have to go alone,”

Soobin raised his eyebrows in confusion as Y/N perked up.

“I can go with you—I promise I won’t be a distraction or something!”

“I don’t know,” Soobin said, scratching the back of his head as Y/N gasped.

“Come on, please?” Y/N pleaded, intertwining her hands with his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be like take your daughter to work day—except I’m not your daughter and the work is, you know, death,”

Soobin laughed in amusement as he tilted his head at the girl.

“I don’t know, Y/N—You? My daughter?” Soobin snorted. “No, thanks,”

“What—I don’t have the daughter of Hades spunk?” Y/N scoffed in mock offense as she held a hand to her chest. “Frankly, I’m offended,”

“Do pray tell,” Soobin shot back, leaning his head on his free palm as he squeezed their intertwined hands. “Who’d be your mother, then?”

“No idea,” Y/N quipped as she looked up in thought. “Who?”

As he looked over at the girl, Soobin muttered under his breath unknowingly.

“How can I imagine you as my child when I keep seeing you as the mother of mine?” He mumbled.

The statement was not fallen onto deaf ears as Y/N shot her head over to Soobin.

The boy’s eyes were only trained on their intertwined hands.

Y/N chuckled awkwardly, blushing as Soobin realized that she heard him.

“Stop being cute,” Y/N giggled as Soobin burned red.

“Why did I just say that?” Soobin mumbled to himself once more.

“I can still hear you,” Y/N laughed, reaching out and brushing his hair off of his forehead. “I promise I’ll behave,”

Soobin sighed.

“Okay, but just because you asked me to!”

Hours later, Y/N and Soobin stood in the middle of a barren field with cloudy gray skies.

There were hazy white figures wandering around.

One of Y/N’s hands gripped Soobin’s hand, the other clutching on his sleeve as she looked around.

“What is this?” Y/N asked, eyes confused.

“This is the Hall of Judgement,” Soobin smiled, wrapping his arm around her figure. “Don’t be scared,”

“I’m not scared,” Y/N said, pressing herself closer to Soobin—making the boy smile. “Just, uh, don’t leave me,”

“Okay, follow me,” Soobin laughed as they neared a soul of a female girl in war-gear. “Hello,”

The soul flinched, turning around swiftly with a fierce glare.

“Who’s there?” The spirit demanded before looking at the two. “Wait—Y/N? Daughter of Zeus Y/N?”

“Aris?” Y/N asked, eyes wide as she pulled herself from Soobin. “You’re—“

“Where—You were missing?” Aris gasped.

“Aris, I— you’re in the Underworld,”

“Oh, the Under—Are you dead? Wait, am I dead?”

Y/N’s eyes turned sad as the girl gasped in realization.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Soobin asked, stepping forward and letting a hand rest on Y/N’s lower back.

Y/N’s hands reached behind her back, clutching his as she smiled at him.

“And you are?” Aris’ challenging tone was back.

“Aris,” Y/N started gently. “This is Lord Hades—the god of the Underworld,”

Aris’ eyes widened as she gasped.

“I-It’s real—“ She said as she observed Soobin. “You’re—I really am dead,”

“I’m sorry, Aris,” Y/N sighed. “But what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Um,” Aris started, voice quivering as she gathered her thoughts. “I was—I was talking to Joonhyuk—“

“Joonhyuk, is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s alive,” Aris said. “He, uh, told me he came back to finish the war and save us all,”

Y/N smiled gently as Soobin squeezed her hand.

“Okay,” Y/N said softly, urging Aris on. “So, you were talking to Joonhyuk? Then?”

“Oh, uh, we heard that, um,” Aris’ eyebrows furrowed as she worked hard to remember the details of her dead. “We heard there was a breach in our defenses over at the bridge—Cyclops attack, so I went there. It was a big flock. I led the army and next thing I know—I was on my way here,”

Soobin nodded softly as he leaned in and whispered to Y/N’s ear.

“I have to talk to the judges, would you be okay with her?”

“Yeah, Bin,” Y/N smiled softly as Soobin pulled away. “I’ll be fine,”

The boy shot her and the spirit a small smile before striding over to a large black tent.

“Y/N?” Aris asked, eyes turning confused. “Why did you call Lord Hades ‘Bin’?”

“Oh,” Y/N chuckled, realizing that not everyone was familiar with his real name. “That’s his nickname—he likes being called by his nickname,”

“Ah,” Aris nodded. “Well, are you here to be judged too?”

Y/N smacked her lips before shrugging.

“He told me I didn’t need to—I’m not really dead and I’m staying with him anyways,” Y/N said.

“With him?”

“His castle is so big—there’s so much rooms!”

Aris furrowed her eyebrows as Y/N’s eyes shifted back to the black tent—waiting for Soobin to exit.

“Y/N?” Aris asked, tone grave. “Why aren’t you fighting up there?”

Y/N’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

“What do you mean why am I—“ Y/N gasped in realization. “Do you guys not know—Do you all think I abandoned you?”

“Didn’t you?” Aris blinked in confusion.

“No—of course not!” Y/N shook her head rapidly. “In order to get Joonhyuk out of here and back to life, someone had to stay so the souls were balanced in the Underworld. A life for a life, so I gave up mine—so he can come back and fight for you all,”

“Oh,” Aris nodded slowly. “They—Beomjae, Bongjoo, Ari and Joonhyuk never told us. We figured you just up and left,”

“I-I didn’t,” Y/N’s eyes turned sad.

“Why are you staying with Hades, then?” Aris asked, crossing her arms before she gasped with wide eyes. “Is he—Did he kidnap you like he did Persephone? Is he—“

“No, he’s not like that!” Y/N said, sighing in frustration.

Her eyes wandered back over to the tent as Soobin exited, making a beeline for a nearby flock of child spirits with a smile.

The boy crouched down, eyes soft as he talked gently.

“I love being with him,” Y/N said, eyes soft as Soobin continued to converse with the children—reaching out and ruffling the hair of one. “He’s nice, kind, considerate, charming—“

Soobin looked over at Y/N and smiled, winking before he turned back to the kids with a chuckle.

Immediately, her heart pounded in her chest.

Gods, she was doomed.

Y/N cleared her throat before looking back at the girl.

“I’m happy to be here,”

“But it’s not exactly Olympus—“

“I know, and I’d rather be here with him,” Y/N said softly.

The girl flinched as a figure in a dark cloak approached them.

“Im Aris—Daughter of Ares, you must proceed to the Judgement Pavilion,” The figure spoke in a muffled voice.

“I—This is it,” Aris said softly, eyes downcast as Y/N nodded to her.

“Good luck, Aris,” Y/N mumbled, watching Aris shoot her a small smile as she followed the figure to the tent.

A hand landed on her waist, making her heart stutter as she looked up to see Soobin smile down at her—his figure towering over her.

“Hey,” he greeted as he looked over at Aris’ departing figure. “Good to go?”

“Yep, yeah,” Y/N nodded smiling up at him. “Come on, let’s go home,”

“Actually, let’s go on a walk,”

Y/N gasped as Soobin pulled her towards River Styx.

“Come on, over here,” Soobin smiled as they walked by the river bank.

As the clear waters of the river flowed gently, a soft haze floated above it.

The haze contained hundreds of different artifacts streaming back and forth.

“I—I thought they said that the Styx was polluted because of the lost hopes and dreams and stuff?” Y/N asked as she marvelled at the sight.

Yeah,” Soobin pointed down at the water. “Some of the dreams fall down,”

Y/N looked down at the water just in time for a broken baseball bat to fall out of the haze and sink into the water.

“Oh,” Y/N winced.

She reached out to intertwine her hands with Soobin.

“I take a walk here sometimes, when I want to think,” Soobin softly smiled as they continued walking. “Seeing all these lost hopes and dreams remind me that I’m actually pretty fortunate to be where I am right now, even if I’m not doing such a good job as the god of the Underworld,”

Y/N frowned, squeezing his hand as she reached out and brushed her hand against the haze.

“Soob, you are doing amazing,” Y/N said smiling softly as her hand grasped on an object in the haze.

Immediately, her vision sparked—showing her a quick memory of a child forced to give up his dreams of being an actor to be a doctor.

“What did you see?” Soobin asked curiously as Y/N pulled her hand out of the haze to find a rusty Oscar Award. “Ah,”

Y/N sighed, releasing the award back to the haze.

“So, you see the memories, huh?”

Soobin nodded, tugging her along as he continued walking.

“When the memory is strong enough,” Soobin shrugged, smiling as Y/N continued to run her hand through the mist.

When her hand gripped on a small square item—she pulled it out.

It was a velvet box.

Soobin looked down at the box, stopping his walk as he opened his mouth and let out a soft ‘oh’.

Immediately, Y/N pried the box open and she was shot into a memory of a girl whose dream was to get married to the love of her life—but she wasn’t able to because he was a soldier that died fighting in a war.

“She said no?” Soobin said as Y/N returned from the memory, her thumb softly caressing the small diamond atop the rusting gold ring.

“He died,” Y/N mumbled softly as she closed the box sadly, returning it to the haze.

“Oh,” Soobin said, eyes downcast. “A lost love,”

Y/N nodded sadly as she looked back up at Soobin, who was silently observing the passing stream of lost hopes and dreams.

She can’t be like that girl with the lost love.

“Bin?”

“Hm?” He looked back down at her with a small smile. “What’s up?”

She’s got to take a chance.

Mustering all her courage, she inhaled softly and locked her gaze with him.

“I love you,” Y/N said firmly before her gaze wavered, looking back down. “Or like—I’m not really sure what love feels, so I can’t say for sure,”

Soobin blinked in confusion as Y/N gulped.

“Anyways,” Y/N nodded. “I like spending time with you, and everytime I look at you or talk to you, my heart just deadass wants to sprint out of my chest,”

Soobin blinked, body tense as Y/N ranted.

“Everytime you to hold my hand, or pull me close or brush my hair, I—I really want to kiss you and I literally just stop myself. It’s at that point where I’m really going crazy and if I don’t knew what you feel in the next hour, I’m going to lose my mind,” Y/N pleaded as she looked back up. “So, please, just say something so I know what to do with myself,”

Soobin only gaped—eyes shifting around speechless.

“Binnie?”

His mouth opened and closed in shock as he stood—unsure what to do.

His eyes flew behind her pulling her closer to his body to avoid the water of the Styx splashing on them as a person—a demigod, from what Soobin felt—stumbled into the Styx.

Y/N’s hands clutched his arms as she heard the pained screams of the demigod falling into the Styx.

When the screams silenced, Y/N softly pulled herself out of Soobin’s grasp.

The boy looked down at Y/N.

“Y/N,” he started softly.

“I should have known,” The girl only smiled softly, nodding.

“Wait, Y/N—“ Soobin said, reaching back to grasp her arm and frowning when it was pulled out of reach.

“No, it’s okay—You have a mess to clean, Lord Hades,” Y/N nodded.

Soobin’s eyes turned sad as he looked back down at the demigod underneath the Styx, running a hand over his face.

“Soobin,” Soobin said, looking over at Y/N. “You call me Soobin, remember?”

“Please don’t make me do something that will make me feel closer to you,” Y/N said, furrowing her eyebrows as she bowed. “I’ll make my way back to the castle, my Lord,”

Soobin can only watch as Y/N walked away from him.

Soobin sighed in frustration, throwing his head back in exhaustion as Y/N didn’t appear for breakfast with him yet again.

One of the spirits serving him came out, refilling his glass of nectar.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked softly.

“She ate her breakfast early, my Lord,” the soul replied.

Soobin furrowed his eyebrows as he set his fork down.

“I don’t understand—didn’t you say she ate at this time yesterday?” Soobin asked, growing frustrated.

“Yes, my Lord, but she changes her eating schedule often,” The soul replied, eyes downcast as she bowed in apology.

Soobin calmed himself down, breathing deeply.

“I-I see, I’m sorry, thanks,” Soobin ran down his face as he stood up. “I’m done eating,”

The souls serving him bowed and started to clean up as he left the dining area.

It’s been a week since he last saw any trace of Y/N—much less heard.

He missed her.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Soobin even dressed up today—remembering how Y/N once mentioned she liked it when he wore clothes that made him look more teenaged liked his face and not “a half-dead CEO”.

Soobin sighed, clutching the ends of his black windbreaker as he stopped in front of Y/N’s bedroom door.

He never made his way over to here, no matter how much he wanted to.

He wanted to give her space—she obviously didn’t want to see him.

In truth, he never replied to her because he didn’t know what to say.

He never thought about whether or not he was in love with her to be honest—he just wanted to be with her.

With that thought in mind, he nodded to himself and cleared his throat.

He placed a soft knock on the bedroom door and waited.

There was no answer.

He tried again.

No answer.

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

Maybe today’s not a good day.

As he turned to make his way out, his ears heard the distinct barks of Cerberus—along with a laugh that was all-too-familiar to him.

He made his way over to the nearby window, looking down to see Y/N laugh as she played with Cerberus.

With a smile, he made his way down—leaning at the door as he watched Y/N pat one of Cerberus’ heads as the other snuggled her and the last one chewed on their ball.

Y/N hummed as she scratched the back of the dog head’s ear.

“I do, I do like Soobin,” The girl ranted. “But like, I’m stupid, you know? He’s a god—a cute god, which is way worse,”

Y/N sighed as the dog tilted its right head.

“Like, he told me he’s never even fallen in love before—at all—so what makes me think I’m better than Persephone, right?” Y/N snorted. “Like I’m in way over my head. Persephone—really?”

Soobin pursed his lips, exhaling slowly as Y/N frowned to herself.

“I mean if he didn’t fall in love with Persephone—fat chance of falling in love with me, right?” Y/N cooed as Cerberus’ right head barked. “You didn’t have to agree,”

“Y/N,” Soobin said, walking forward.

Y/N flinched, wincing as she turned over to Soobin.

“You didn’t hear all of that, right?” Y/N said, clutching the skirt of her dress.

Her hair was down in pretty curls—she was dressed in a long, flowy, white dress.

Soobin only smiled softly as he looked over at her.

She looked beautiful.

“Can we talk?”

At Y/N soft nod, he turned back to lead her to the gardens—smiling softly at her soft cursing.

As soon as they stopped by the rose bush, Y/N sighed.

“You know, this is the part where you break up with me,” Y/N said, her hands tracing the gold outlines of the petal of a nearby rose. “but since we’re like, not dating or involved in any way at all, I’m assuming this means your’e kicking me out of the castle to the Fields of Asphodel—or the Hall of Judgement or something,”

Y/N bit her lip as she looked over to Soobin, who only put his hands in his pockets with a smile.

God, she hated that he looked so good even when he was booting her out.

“If that’s the case, can I like change into comfier clothes before you cast me into eternal damnation or something?” Y/N asked, chuckling nervously.

Her nervous smile fell as Soobin soflty shook his head.

Y/N sighed, screwing her eyes shut as she fiddled with her thumbs.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” Y/N said, scratching the back of her neck.

She looked back up at the god, who only smiled wider.

She hated how her heart still pounded at the fact that he was smiling at her.

Y/N cleared her throat as she nodded.

“Well then, I’ll—uh—escort myself to the Fields. I know the way,” Y/N said with a deep breath. “Uh, thank you—for taking care of me even for a short while. Sorry I screwed things up,”

She turned to leave, biting her lip as she felt tears spring up to her eyes.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she turned back to Soobin.

“Uh, since I’m here, I just—I wanna tell you that I’m angry at myself for falling in love with you, but there’s not a thing that I regret from that,” Y/N said, sighing as she smiled over at him and tried her best to hold her tears at bay.

Soobin’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I’m not going to lie—I still love you. I think even more than i did when I told you the first time, and I’m grateful to have spent all these moments with you and for having met the man behind ‘Hades, the god of the dead’ title,” Y/N continued, gathering her thoughts as she fiddled with her thumbs. “And, um, Olympus is missing out of you, because you’re so perfect!”

Soobin’s smiled, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“And, I hope whatever you do or get up to in the future—you’d be okay, and happy,” Y/N said, nodding her head. “Because, the thought of you being sad makes me sad—though, obviously you wouldn’t care about that,”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as her mind snapped into attention at Soobin’s lack of response.

She nodded to herself, pursing her lips.

“Yeah, okay, I’m saying too much,” She turned abruptly. “I’m gonna go now,”

As she took a step forward, a hand grasped onto her wrist to pull her back.

She stumbled, letting her body follow as she was turned around.

Before she could say or do anything, she felt his soft lips crash on hers.

As soon as she felt him clutch her waist, Y/N swore she fell in love with him all over again.

Her heart skipped a beat as she let her hands reach up to run through his hair, eyes falling closed as she melted into him.

It was like the world could melt and break down all around her, but all that would matter to her was Soobin’s lips on hers.

Soobin smiled as he pulled away, leaning his forehead on hers with a soft chuckle.

Y/N blinked—stuck in a daze.

“Wha—“ Y/N started, looking up at him. “What was that?”

Soobin laughed, leaning back in and brushing his nose with hers.

“I love you too, genius,”

“Oh,” Y/N’s eyes widened as Soobin brushed her hair away from her face. “Honestly, I’m a bit disappointed we spent a whole week skirting around each other—that was so much wasted time,”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she sighed, brushing her lips on his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Soobin smiled. “We have all the time in the world to just—stay here,”

“Here?”

“Here with you,” Soobin nodded. “When I’m with you I feel nothing—I’m not the Lord of the dead, or Hades, or some weird godly outcast. I’m just Soobin. I feel nothing but you,”

Y/N breathed deeply, closing her eyes.

“You know,” she started. “When I told you I loved you I really wasn’t expecting you to love me back, so if you’re just forcing yourself to love me back then I—“

“I’m not,” Soobin said, shaking his head as he let his hands fall down to grip her waist again. “Look at me, Y/N,”

The girl opened her eyes, frowning as she locked gazes with Soobin.

“I’m not forcing myself to love you because it’s not hard to fall in love with you, okay? And I really do feel so lucky because you chose to fall in love with me,” Soobin said, hand softly lifting her chin and lips softly placing a peck on hers. “You are extra-ordinary, and I can’t believe you fell in love with me even if you’re stuck here like some prisoner—“

“Soobin, I don’t feel trapped here,” Y/N smiled, hands reaching up to cup his face. “Not when I’m with you,”

Soobin smiled happily, chuckling as he leaned back down to press another kiss on Y/N’s lips.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as a group of Empousa stood in the throne room in front them.

Soobin, sitting on his throne next to her, rubbed his forehead in stress as the Empousai listed their demands.

He reached out, grabbing Y/N hands and setting it on his lap—squeezing it to relieve his stress as he looked back up at the Empousai.

“You know you’re in Tartarus for a reason, right?” Soobin said with a sigh.

The leader of the Empousai scoffed.

“We believe we are misjudged,” the empousa sniffed. “we demand that all empousa be taken out of Tartarus—immediately,”

Soobin groaned, head falling back on his throat as he grumbled.

“Baby, my head hurts,” he whispered over to Y/N.

The girl shot him a sympathetic smile—squeezing his hand as she turned to the Empousai.

“You’ve killed demigods, correct?”

“For a good cause!”

“No,” Y/N shook her head as Soobin looked over at her. “You killed them to take over the world—That’s called ill-intent. No matter how you spin this narrative, it’s called murder,”

“No, we are doing it for the greater good—Olympus knows nothing!”

Soobin blinked in wonder as Y/N’s gaze turned fierce, standing up and sauntering over to the unruly monster.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead. If I were you, I’d go back to Tartarus, accept I’m a monster, take my punishment, and do better when I’m reborn,” Y/N hissed at the Empousai before turning around and walking back over to Soobin. “Take these demons back to where they belong,”

At Soobin’s affirmative nod, the spirits dragged the Empousai back to Tartarus—nothing but their shrill screams to signify they were ever there.

“That was something,” Soobin blinked over at Y/N as she chuckled, sitting in his lap and kissing his lips.

“You know I never butt in, but I’ve seen how stressed out you were these past few weeks over them—I had to do something,” Y/N smiled as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Besides, they’re like the bratty cheerleaders that were mean to be in middle school. Sweet revenge,”

Soobin chuckled, laying a soft kiss on her temple.

Y/N pulled away and smiled at Soobin as he caressed her cheeks—eyes soft as he gazed at the girl.

“What?” Y/N asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you had a mind-blowing realization about me,” Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“Because I did?”

“What?”

“I want to marry you,” Soobin quipped, smile widening at her shocked expression. “Surprised?”

Y/N blinked before scoffing, punching his arm.

“Stop making fun of me,”

“I’m not kidding,” Soobin laughed, letting his hands run through her hair and his forehead attach to hers. “I’ve been thinking it over for weeks—I want to marry you,”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she clambered off of Soobin, crossing her arms.

“Bin—Getting married is serious, okay? You’re a god—you can’t just marry whoever you want,” Y/N said. “Your wife is going to be queen of the Underworld,”

“Don’t you want to?”

Y/N’s head snapped up to Soobin, who also stood up and walked over to her—hands buried in his pockets as he tilted his head at her.

“Don’t want to what?” Y/N asked.

“Get married,”

“With you? It’s a god damn dream come true,” Y/N chuckled as Soobin smiled, taking her hand. “But I’m not fit to be the queen,”

“Yeah, you are,” Soobin snorted. “with how you handled those Empousai? I’d say you’re perfect already,”

“Binnie, you’re just saying that,” Y/N rolled her eyes as Soobin shook his head.

“You’re already perfect, Y/N,” Soobin said, smiling as he pulled a ring out of his pocket and fell down to his knees.

Y/N blinked in surprise—not even a sound or a peep or any movement from her as her eyes followed Soobin.

“I was supposed to plan this whole thing in the gardens, propose to you the greek way by tossing you an apple and then do it the modern way with romantic lights and a ring and everything—but I couldn’t wait,” Soobin shook his head, taking her hand and squeezing it. “Please, marry me,”

Y/N pressed her hands to her mouth as she gasped.

“I’d be the king and you’d be the queen—and we’d be so in love and we’ll have a lot of godly kids,” Soobin chuckled as Y/N laughed, tears welling up in her eyes. “and we’ll run Underworld—just you and me together, like it’ll always be,”

Y/N bit her lip, holding back her smile as she cleared her throat.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything in the world,”

“Then, yes.”

Soobin smiled, an emotional laugh bubbling out of his lips as he slipped the ring excitedly on her finger.

Y/N smiled as she marvelled at it, Soobin standing up and pulling her close to him.

“I’m going to marry you,”

Y/N giggled, leaning forward and placing a deep kiss on his lips.

Soobin laughed through the kiss, hands desperately clutching on her hips as he pulled away.

“My queen,” he whispered against her lips.

Three months later, Y/N and Soobin giggled amongst themselves as they talked about everything and nothing.

Their hands were intertwined, Y/N’s diamond ring glinting in the firelight as the book Soobin was reading was thrown haphazardly at the side.

“What’s the first thing you’ll do when we get married?”

“Consummate it,” Soobin snorted, bursting out with laughter as Y/N slammed a hand down his chest.

“We already did, doofus!”

“Well, we can do it again,” Soobin said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Wanna try tonight?”

“You are insane—“

The couple was interrupted as loud knocks sounded on the door.

“Come in,”

“Lord Hades, my lady,” The spirit stuttered as it bowed. “An iris message appeared at the throne room,”

Y/N rose up slowly, furrowing her eyebrows at the spirit.

“An iris message? Throne room?”

Soobin stood up, frowning as he followed the woman down to the said room—gaping at the rainbow in the middle of the room.

“Oh, wow, it’s been a long time since I saw one of these in the throne room,” Soobin commented as he neared the message.

“It happens?”

“Yeah,” Soobin shrugged. “Last time it happened was Hercules, I think,”

“That’s amazing,” Y/N smiled as she peered into the rainbow.

She gasped as the face of a tall figure manifested—features all-too-familiar.

“Joonhyuk?”

“Y/N!” Joonhyuk screamed as he slammed his hands on the desk in front of him in relief. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “How—It’s been months, why are you only calling me now?”

“The war isn’t over yet, Y/N,”

“It’s not?”

Beomjae popped up next to Y/N with a worried face.

“Y/N, we cracked the prophecy,” He said. “You have to get up here,”

Soobin walked over, a soft frown on his face as his hand rested on Y/N’s waist.

Y/N looked up at him, frowning.

“I can’t. I have to stay with Soobin—Hades, I mean,” Y/N shook her head. “I exchanged my soul for yours, remember?”

Joonhyuk’s eyes turned worried as he glanced at the boy next to Y/N, hand tightly wrapped around her torso as he frowned.

Y/N reached up, softly cupping his hand and squeezing it.

“Is that Hades?” Another voice asked from the iris message.

Y/N paid no mind as she turned, looking over at Soobin.

“Bin—“

“I sort of knew it,” Soobin whispered as he pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I just wish it wasn’t this soon,”

“Baby,” Y/N said, pulling away and cupping his hands. “what are you talking about?”

Soobin only sighed as Joonhyuk and Beomjae gaped, Ari appearing next to them equally as shocked.

“Baby?” Ari asked in surprise.

“You and Hades?” Beomjae asked as Joonhyuk sighed, shaking his head.

“There’s no time—Y/N you have to leave him. You’re the only one that can save us,” Joonhyuk said. “Go now,”

Beomjae turned to Joonhyuk with worried eyes.

“Why me?”

“It’s what the prophecy said,” Joonhyuk said in frustration. “and there’s a magic barrier around the chains—no one can break it but you, just like the prophecy said. So, come here now,”

“Why?”

“If you break it the gods can wake up to save us—why do you have so many questions?” Joonhyuk said, eyes leaking tears as he almost cried in exhaustion. “Y/N, please. This is our one shot,”

Y/N bit her lip as she turned back to Soobin, burying her head on his chest.

“No,”

Soobin’s eyes widened as he looked down at the girl.

“What?”

“Y/N!” Joonhyuk called, but the girl only waved her hand through the message to disconnect the call.

There was a moment of silence, before one of them moved.

Soobin’s heart panged as she felt Y/N’s shoulders shake with sobs against him.

“Baby,” Soobin sighed, gently pushing her away and wiping her tears. “I think you know what has to happen,”

Y/N shook her head.

“No,” She whispered. “I don’t want to,”

“Babe,”

“I’m not going, Soobin,” she said, body shaking as she sobbed even harder.

Soobin sighed, smiling sadly as he let his eyes take her in.

“You know,” Soobin said, brushing hair away from her face. “I was fixing our wedding already,”

Y/N looked up at him, tear-stained eyes drinking him in for all it’s worth.

“Bin,”

The boy bit his lip as he squeezed her hands softly.

Y/N closed her eyes as tears start to silently roll out of Soobin’s eyes.

“I was dreaming that we’d get married soon, and then I’d be the king, and you would be the queen—the most beautiful goddess queen to ever exist,” Soobin said, holding back the quivering of his voice as he cleared his throat. “We’d have a lot of children playing around, and it’s just you and me for eternity,”

Y/N opened her eyes cupping his face.

“Soobin, Soobin, look at me,” she mumbled as she lined her gaze with his. “There has to be another way,”

“It’s the prophecy—there’s no other way,” Soobin shook his head, tears now free-flowing. “It has to be you,”

Y/N cursed, leaning her forehead on his.

“I—I can just not do it,” Y/N said. “You won’t get affected, you’re not in Olympus. We can just stay here, they don’t deserve to be saved,”

Soobin sighed.

“Baby,”

“They pushed you away, Bin,” Y/N said, cupping his face. “They made you an outcast, they made everyone think you’re evil—“

“Y/N, they’re my family and yours,” Soobin said, eyes pained as he breathed. “Baby, you have to go,”

Y/N’s eyes shook as her lower lip quivered.

“B-But I love you,”

“I know,” Soobin said, smiling as he cried. “And I love you too—but you know you have to go,”

Y/N nodded her head, as she sobbed.

“Soobin,” Y/N started. “I love you—more than anyone else I’ve ever loved before, more than anything I’ve ever loved my whole life,”

Soobin smiled, leaning forward and pressing a harsh kiss on her lips.

Tears flowed out of both of their eyes as their hands intertwined.

Slowly, Soobin pulled away with a smile.

“When you die, I’ll be there—for you,” Soobin said, nodding to himself. “I’m going to pick you up myself, and if you still want me, we’re finally going to get married. You’re going to wear a beautiful white wedding dress. You’re finally going to be the queen and we’re going to fall in love all over again—and we’re going to have a lot of kids and we’re gonna run the underworld together, okay?”

Y/N bit her lip, nodding.

“Okay,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Wait for me,”

“I will—no matter how long it takes,” Soobin said, pressing another desperate kiss on her lips as he pulled away. “Remember that I will always love you. Now go, and don’t look back,”

Y/N let herself look at him one last time before turning her back.

Not even when she heard him collapse to the floor, sobbing.

With tear streaks on her face, Y/N found herself stumbling into the tall building and into the elevator to the top floor.

Y/N bit her lip as she held back her tears, hands clutching her torso as she cried.

As soon as the elevator doors ring open, she faced Beomjae, Joonhyuck, Bongjoo and Ari at near the entrance to the border—surprised to see her.

“Y/N,” Joonhyuk started.

Y/N promptly ignored her as she marched forward, past the barrier and turning the key shoved inside the chain.

There was a bright shimmer as the chains dissolved.

Seconds later, there was the large crack of thunder.

After a few minutes, the entrance to Olympus opened—Y/N being met with her own father.

“Joonhyuk,” Zeus boomed as he neared his son. “you have saved us all. The war has finished,”

Immediately, Y/N broke to a loud sob—falling into a heap on the floor as she clutched her stomach.

“There, there, daughter,” Zeus soothed. “I know it’s been hard, but the way is over—we can celebrate!”

Y/N didn’t reply, crying harder as her hands tightened on her stomach.

Hera observed the girl sadly.

“This war is not without casualty,” Hera commented. “I can feel the grief of a mother who lost her child,”

At those words, Y/N cried harder as she curled up.

“Take me back,” Y/N mumbled. “Bring it back,”

“She’s—“ Joonhyuk said, eyes widening in horror as Y/N grieved.

“Yes, why would you think she broke through the barrier, child?” Hera explained. “Only a god could—a god like her child, who gave up it’s spirit and godly essence to his mother to save you all,”

“We killed a baby,” Ari gasped, sitting next to Y/N. “Your baby with Hades—I’m sorry,”

“Is she a goddess?” Joonhyuk asked, eyes trained on his sister.

“Not yet,” Hera hummed. “but she is promised,”

Joonhyuk frowned, looking over at Hera—eyes burning in recognition.

“Epirus—“ Beomjae gasped as he reached the same conclusion as Joonhyuk. “This is the Phyrric War all over again,”

“King Phyrrus of Epirus—the man who sacrificed too much to win,” Hera nodded grimly. “Your sister sacrificed everything to win this war—her love, her happiness, her husband and her child. Congratulations on your win, boys,”

Hera nodded at the two as he neared Ari and Y/N, laying a soothing hand on her shoulder as Artemis and Aphrodite approached the grieving girl.

Joonhyuk’s sad eyes locked onto his sister.

A win at much too high a cost.

70 years later, a bed-ridden 90 year-old Y/N lay in bed—eyes trained on her great-grand daughter with a smile.

“Grandma!” The kid bounced as she held up her book.

Y/N sighed softly as the kid clambered up the bed.

This child looked so much like Ari.

Y/N smiled fondly at the memory of the late daughter of Aphrodite.

Right after the war—Ari never left her side, having found out about her and Soobin.

The girl was obsessed with her tragic love.

While Y/N never married or fell in love with someone else ever again, she was happy to have witnessed Ari and Joonhyuk grow as a couple—and soon, parents to a healthy baby boy—Donghwa.

That boy grew up to have a daughter—Bongsoo, named after Ari’s other best friend and Donghwa’s uncle, Bongjoo.

Said daughter bounced her way into her grandma-aunt’s frail arms.

“Bongsoo,” Jiyong, Donghwan’s wife, chastised the kid. “I told you to be careful around grandma,”

“Grandma, I’ve been reading!” The kid exclaimed—waving her book. “It’s about Hades,”

At the mention of the god, Y/N perked up—eyes softening with love as she turned over to the girl.

“What about him?”

The kid made a fart noise, crossing her arms.

“He sucks—he kidnapped Persephone,” The kid said.

By the doorway, Donghwa arrived to watch with a sad smile—having known of his aunt’s story with Hades.

“Bongsoo,” Donghwa said softly. “Don’t say that,”

“But he did!” Bongsoo argued.

Y/N tutted her tongue as she softly patted the area beside her.

“Let me tell you about Hades, a good man and a good god who never kidnapped Persephone and was never in love with Persephone,” Y/N said as Bongsoo settled on the spot next to her.

“But, grandma, the book said so!”

“Let me tell you the real story,” Y/N smiled softly as Jiyong wrapped her hand around Donghwon, listening in.

“Once, there was a big, big war. There was a boy that wanted to finish it, but then he died. So, his friends and his sister went down to the Underworld, but Hades said that he can’t come back to life,” Y/N started.

“But why?”

“Because there are rules, little one,” Y/N smiled, poking the girl’s nose. “There has to be a soul that stays to make sure that there was balance in the world, so the hero’s sister stayed with Hades instead so the hero can go save the world!”

“Wow,” The child gaped.

“At first she was scared of him, but then he was so kind and gentle—she fell in love with him and he fell in love with her. Soon, she was going to be married with her and she was going to have a baby,” Y/N narrated, straight from her memory as the thought of Soobin and her lost child resurfaced in her frail, fragile heart.

“Then what happened?”

“Well, Bongsoo, one day the girl found out that she had to leave him because she needed to save the world too. Her baby died while saving the world. Until now, she still thinks about him—and she always wishes that Hades thinks about her too because she loves him so much,”

“Oh,” Bongsoo pouted. “Is the girl still alive?”

“No,”

“Do you know her grandma?”

“Yes,”

Donghwa smiled in sadness as his aunt’s eyes sparkled.

“Grandma, you do?” Bongsoo gasped. “Can you tell her that I’m sorry for judging Hades, and I hope she gets her happy ending, and get married to Hades soon,”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled softly as she urged the child to her mother. “she says to go eat some dinner,”

“Okay!” Bongsoo squealed as she made her way out of the room followed by her mother, leaving Donghwa.

“Auntie,” Donghwa started as he walked over. “You didn’t have to do all that,”

“You know how much I’d defend him—of course, I had to,” Y/N hummed, closing her eyes.

“Alright, well, I’ll go get dinner,” The man sighed, kissing her forehead. “I’ll be back to feed you afterwards,”

Y/N didn’t reply, turning sleepier and sleepier as Donghwa left.

She closed her eyes.

——

It feels weird.

For once, Y/N felt no pain in any part of her body as she shot up abruptly.

No pain in her back, head, feet, waist—nothing.

Y/N lifted her hands in wonder to gasp as the diamond ring on her finger—Soobin’s ring—glistened under the florescent lights.

Another detail she also noticed was the lack of wrinkles on her hand—just like it used to when she was young.

When she was—

Y/N stumbled over to the vanity, gasping and grasping her face as she only saw a hazy figure on the mirror.

It was her—she was almost transparent to the fact that she almost looked like mist.

She then realized she was wearing something too puffy—this wasn’t her regular pajamas.

No, she was wearing a white ballgown with diamonds encrusted at the bodice—a wedding gown.

Her hair was styled neatly, a ring of her favorite white and gold roses from Soobin’s garden embedded with beautiful jewels sat on top of her head.

Even her shoes were jewel-encrusted—the platform heels felt so light, yet she can see the diamonds glinting at the straps and the heels.

Y/N turned, gasping as she saw a body on the bed—her dead, 90 year-old body.

She was dead—she was dead, and wearing a wedding gown.

She felt expensive, regal.

Like a queen.

Picking up her dress as she realized it, Y/N bolted out of her room—stopping short at the dining table to smile at her blissfully unaware family as they dined.

They’ll be alright.

Y/N smiled as she nodded to herself, continuing her way out of the house.

She saved the world—it was finally her time to be happy.

As soon as she stumbled onto the front porch, her eyes trailed over to a tall figure wearing a tuxedo at the end of the driveway.

The man was tall—too tall for his own good as he clumsily rocked back and forth on his heels.

His black hair gently swept around with the summer breeze as he fawned over the rose bush that Jiyong carefully tended to.

Y/N walked over slowly, heart pumping fast as she smiled delicately.

She drank in the first sight of him she’s seen in 70 years.

“I didn’t know Thanatos wore tuxedos now,” Y/N hummed.

The figure only tensed slightly, before there was a familiar laugh.

He turned around, brown eyes softly landing on her as he shot her a smile.

“Nope, but I’ll tell him it’s a good look,” Soobin said, eyes raking down at her figure with a soft smile. “You look beautiful,”

Y/N laughed, tears pouring out of her eyes as she reached out to kiss him—tears pouring out of her eyes as they shared their first kiss in seven decades.

The first kiss for the eternity to come.

Soobin’s hands ran through her hair as he kissed her back, a smile permanently etched in his lips as he pulled away.

“I’m never letting you go again,”

“I’m never, ever, going to go away,” Y/N said, smiling happily.

Her smile dropped as Soobin’s hand trailed lightly over her stomach.

She smiled sadly, hands reaching down to bring his hand to her lips.

“Let’s go,” Y/N said, smiling as she tugged him lightly to place a soft peck on his lips. “I believe we have a wedding to get to,”

Soobin smiled, laughing as he nodded.

“Okay,”

Finally, he got his happy ending.

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twilights-800-cats · 3 years

Text

Alrighty, I’ve finished Leopardstar’s Honor!

Here we go.

I think it was fine, leaning more towards bland. The saving grace for the story is Leopardstar herself - I think her characterization as a self-assured, somewhat selfish, overconfident cat is very spot on to her other depictions throughout the series. There are so many moments you want to pick her up and say “honey no”... maybe too many, honestly.

As far as criticisms go...

The Story As A Whole

One thing is obvious - the pacing is pretty bad. Not every super edition needs to start off from moment one of a character’s life and with the plot of this story as it stands, I don’t think this one had to. We could’ve easily skipped ahead to Leopard as a young ‘paw and had her relevant incident with Skyheart and the loss of her mother still deeply affect her.

As it is, we don’t spend enough time in any part of Leopardstar’s life to really get something meaningful out of it - relationships develop in leaps and bounds from chapter to chapter before being cut off unceremoniously or lost altogether. The book feels like a game of red light green light.

I think the exception to this is Leopardstar’s life as a warrior - we do spend a good deal of time there... but again, it suffers from the red light green light problem: conflicts stop and start on a whim and nothing’s really given room to breathe or last.

I think the story might’ve been better served to focus more on Leopard decision to form TigerClan. There’s more than enough content to justify the reason why and cutting a death or two might’ve given the TigerClan portions more chances to breathe and be more than just a horrible fearmongering mess. It feels like Leopardstar loses control too suddenly - nothing in this story feels like it’s allowed to be gradual.

One thing I did like, and I wish they had done more with, was Mudfur’s dream - almost every single super edition has a prophecy, and almost all of them suffer for it, but Mudfur’s dream was just that, a dream he had when he was a warrior, a hope that his daughter will rise up and become strong. Despite the uncertainty of that, the narrative still functionally treats the dream as if it were one of those prophecies. I think there was an opportunity there to perhaps lean into Leopardstar’s belief in this dream - especially if Mudfur tore it down later on in the book and used it to bolster Leopardstar’s confidence.

I also don’t think this book really did a lot to sell RiverClan - there’s no mention of the cats decorating their dens, like we’ve seen mentioned in other parts of the series. The distinction between river prey and land prey is something we’ve known since Crookedstar’s Promise. The story does do a bit to point out that RiverClan’s over-reliance on the river is a bad thing, but in the same sentences it destroys any sort of realism with how the river prey is described! Erins, do you have any idea how big salmon and carp are?! Do you understand how large a cat is?

RiverClan’s camp is also really poorly described, honestly. Nothing about it stood out to me, it didn’t feel like a place. Nowhere in RiverClan territory felt at all real because the names the cats gave them were given so little importance and we have no idea where anything is. There’s hardly any time spent describing RiverClan... ever. This is a massive, massive shame, since this is the first RiverClan content we’ve gotten in a very long time - and the first book of the next series is possibly also RiverClan-focused. It doesn’t inspire confidence.

The story is moving by the Redtail’s Debt retcon. No mention is made of Oakheart dying from a rockfall, and his death is treated as ThunderClan’s fault for the entire story - which would be fine if it were Leopard’s own delusion due to her hatred of ThunderClan, but that’s just not the case.

Obviously there are timeline inconsistencies as well, the largest one being ShadowClan warriors in the camp a chapter before it’s even mentioned that Leopardstar let them in. It was very strange to read. Events just seemed off from when they were meant to happen, but then again there’s not a whole lot of setting to anchor a reader in even what phase of the moon you’re in.

The Relationships

It’s safe to say the relationships in this book also suffer from the red light green light pacing. As soon as the reader - and Leopardstar - grow attached to a character... they’re killed. It reminded me of Bluestar’s Prophecy, like they were trying to evoke that same feeling of grief... but these characters have so little time to actually endear themselves to us, and there are so many of them, that it becomes fairly obvious that Leopardstar just isn’t meant to have friends!

Not only that but I honestly think the story missed a huge opportunity in the friendships that it chose to focus on.

I’ve spoken about her "romance” with Frogleap, but I’ll reiterate here: it’s weak, but not worthless. I wish there was more to it, more scenes of Leopard choosing the Clan over him, but it is what it is. I could’ve done without her constantly thinking of whether or not she should’ve been with him, though.

Whiteclaw was fine, and by extension I think Sunfish was fine, too, if only to serve the Whiteclaw sideplot, which I thought was well-done but needed perhaps more room to breathe; but Leopardstar has absolutely no relationship with cats like Stonefur or Mistyfoot, characters that she was reportedly extremely close to. When Stonefur is named deputy, there’s no weight behind it - he and Leopard had absolutely no connection. They barely say three lines to one another that aren’t relating to Clan business. Mistyfoot gets nothing until Leopardstar begs her to be deputy. It’s baffling!!

I also wanted more from Mudfur and Leopardstar’s relationship. He feels like he’s barely there, when he could’ve been a real presence in Leopard’s life, good or bad. I liked the angle of Leopard equating his doubts to her father considering her a failure - but it just doesn’t feel like it works. I thought something big would come from Crookedstar revealing that Mudfur didn’t want Leopard to be picked as deputy but... there’s no change in their relationship, at least not one that the pacing would allow us to see.

Tigerstar and Leopardstar is a contentious relationship to say the least but... I gotta say, I wanted more of it. I think this is the one story where Tiger feels like Tiger - manipulative and evil, but with very little of his moustache-twirling obviousness. It feels like he just disappears from the story entirely after he’s exiled from ThunderClan, only to pop back up again.

It’s probably awful to say, but... I kind of wanted a sour romantic relationship between Leopard and Tiger here. I do not trust the Erins to handle that with any ounce of grace, and I don’t seriously wish it upon the canon at all, but I thought that the possibility could’ve been interesting. The two did genuinely seem to have a connection, and even if they were romantic, I don’t think Leopard would’ve formed TigerClan just because she liked Tigerstar - the book had already established other reasons why she would think TigerClan a good solution.

I trust the Erins with relationships like I trust my dog with chocolate: I just don’t :P

I think that’s all my grievances so far. Kudos to anyone who read all this! I honestly feels like I’ve more negatives than positives to say about these books lately... Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy them; but the writing quality has become exhaustingly inconsistent.

I really wish they would slow down book production and give these stories more thought - the readers deserve it, as do the authors themselves.

#leopardstars honor spoilers #tumblr did not like this long ass post

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amandaoftherosemire · 3 years

Text

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

Fandom: Marvel/MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,425

Format: Short Series (Complete)

Warnings: Violence, graphic and disturbing imagery, death, language, implied smut, fluff.

Summary: You meet Bucky Barnes upon your mysterious and deadly escape from a power obsessed cult leader and his followers. Though you carry a secret in addition to the wariness of trauma, you can’t help your attraction to Bucky and his irascible demeanor. As for Bucky, he is drawn to the light he sees in you while he fears the things you’re hiding. Can you trust him with your secrets, and your life? Will you have a choice?

A/N: When I told my husband about some of the things that happen in this chapter, he reacted with impressed horror and disgust. (He’s a great audience.) When I went to edit and proofread this chapter, however, that was in my mind and I realized that some of the things I describe in here are pretty weird and gross and I’m a little perturbed that I wrote them without realizing exactly how weird and gross they were. I wasn’t aware I also had a horror writer in here. Hmm. Anyway, fair warning: graphic horror movie style descriptions.

That said, these two were fun to write, and I might write more with them reuniting after the Blip. TFAWS was a gold mine for inspiration and I’m itching to write more Sam and Bucky interactions now that I have more of them in my head. Feel free to let me know if you want that. 😊

I would have had this up faster, but the God of Mischief has been busy of late and he was occupying my mind and my keyboard for the past several weeks. Every time I sat down to my computer, he took over and it has been too much fun to stop. Soon, I promise. 😉

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

Bucky shook his head and snorted. "We're gonna have to have a talk about your timing, doll."

Bucky dragged his eyes from your retreating form to focus on the threat outside. He'd be damned if he'd let these assholes hurt you. Especially when he needed to hear you tell him you loved him again, when he still needed to tell you he loved you, too.

"JOSEPH!" You shouted as you threw the door open, your hair smoldering as you stepped over the body in the doorway. Your voice was a mockery of the strident tone he'd taken as you'd made him wait while you spoke to Bucky. You walked forward until you were standing at the top of the stairs onto the front porch. "If you want me to be quick, do not send me meals. Or did you not send Brit as a sacrifice to the creature inside me?”

Joseph took a single step forward, losing his breath in a sigh of awe as your skin began to glow the red-orange of a fire's heart from the inside out, your eyes glowing molten gold as you spoke. "He's pleased that you'd send someone so valuable, but he also hopes you understand," your lips curved in a cruel, hungry smile as those brilliant eyes swept over the robed figures ranged behind him, "it's not going to be nearly enough.”

Bucky could see the shudder of fear run through the small crowd and figured at least half would panic and run should you attack. However, as he'd kept his eyes and the sight of his gun on Joseph, he could also see the desire on the other man's face as he eased closer when you didn't stop that first tentative step.

"That's not going to be a problem," the man said with pure lust in his voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a twinkle of light just before a wall of flame erupted into being between Joseph and his followers, spreading from the left to the right. As he expected, half of them broke and ran immediately, joined by a few more besides. A few diehards ran towards the flames, but the heat screaming off of the fire easily kept them at bay. He figured Kiki was in control of them and focused in on the only threat left.

Joseph seemed mesmerized by the sight of you as you slowly descended the stairs toward him. "Are you a god?" You intoned the words in the same popping, roaring voice Bucky remembered from that first meeting and his eyes swept the scene for confirmation that Kiki was coming in from the left as her wall of fire indicated.

"I will be!" Joseph cried as he lunged towards you, only to stop abruptly at the blast of heated air that swept between you as the wall began to move in a swirl, whipped into a river of fire. The leading edge was bright gold with streamers of vibrant orange and red and hints of turquoise heat that hit the man directly in the chest and poured into him.

When he'd absorbed the last bit of fire, he looked up at you next to your front door where you'd retreated and smiled a cruel, anticipatory smile. His body continued to jerk and contort in wicked and unsettling ways that seemed to be preventing him from following you up the stairs to take his revenge.

You were deeply horrified by what was happening to him, though you didn't move any further away because you could hear Kiki muttering as she rummaged around inside Joseph. You didn't know what she was looking for, but you knew that he was dead as soon as she found it, either because of what she was doing or the man in the window waiting for his moment. You could see, however, that Joseph thought he was on the verge of victory, and you pitied him.

When you heard her crow in delighted discovery, you whispered, that pity ripe in your voice and on your face. "Good-bye, Joseph."

In the next instant, Kiki was clawing her way out of him, starting at his chest and climbing up his throat as he clutched his neck in nightmarish pain. Your eyes stayed dry, but you didn't enjoy suffering, even his. When the little flame body that Kiki had in this dimension came pushing out of Joseph's mouth in front of a hoarse scream, Bucky ended his torment with a single bullet to the heart.

The blackened body that fell to the ground was the last straw for the last few cultists who hadn't already fled. You saw them run for the forest in your peripheral vision but couldn't watch, your eyes glued to the happily chattering little fire trying to drag something out of Joseph's body.

As grateful as you were to never have to worry about Joseph ever again, you weren't made of stone and your stomach churned when Kiki managed to pry loose whatever it was she was so intent on retrieving. When the object fell heavily to the ground, she evidently lost her grip as she went tumbling several feet, but she was up and making cheerful scolding chuffs of sound in an instant.

The little flame creature scampered in merry leaps around something that looked like a dark quartz stone a little smaller than a tennis ball, with jagged spikes of black glass sticking out of the top. You frowned in confusion when Kiki continued to make huffing and scoffing noises that you couldn't understand as she got behind the rock and started pushing it forward.

"Y/N?" Behind you, Bucky murmured your name in a voice gentle with sympathy. Whatever else Joseph had been, he was pretty sure the man hadn't deserved to die like that. If he'd had his way, Bucky would have moved more quickly and made the end much less painful. On top of that, he hated that you'd had to see your little friend do something so gruesome.

"Yeah?" You sounded weird, like you were both puzzled and worried, but you didn't turn to look at him, your gaze on the wild flickering of Kiki on the ground next to the charred remains of what was once Joseph.

Bucky reached out, hoping he was doing the right thing, and slid his arm around your waist to pull you in and cradle you against his body. "Are you okay?"

"I guess?" If you weren't so focused on Kiki, you'd have melted at the tenderness in his tone, in his touch. As it was, you snuggled back into him even as you craned your neck to try and see what the little flame was up to. "I don't know what Kiki is doing. Kiki!"

Kiki's head popped up and she scampered forward a couple feet and shouted happily, It's Grumble! She scampered back and climbed on top of the stone, her front limbs wrapped around a couple of the spikes on top. I found Grumble in the human demon!

"What the hell is Grumble?" Your hand came up to grip Bucky's where it rested against your hip. As you stepped forward to get a closer look at whatever Kiki had found, you pulled him with you by the hand you kept wrapped around his, needing him with you. Stopping at the edge of the porch at the top of the stairs, you watched Kiki playfully rock back and forth on top of her discovery.

The little flame made the popping sound that served as her most delighted laugh, something you'd heard only a couple of times since you'd met her. No! Not Grumble. Grumble! You could hear very little difference between the two sounds, the second only more intense in its rumbling sound.

"That sounds like the same word, Keek."

Kiki laughed again and rocked the stone as her little head tilted down and she chuffed and rumbled at the object beneath her fiery feet. I love it! She shouted it in her popping, crackling language. She sounded so happy, so relieved, you relaxed by a fraction, enough to be tempted when she continued, Come meet Grumble, then, and waved you forward with one arm of flame.

You looked at Bucky, who was watching you communicate with Kiki with a raised brow and ready stance, not sure the danger was as over as he had believed. "She found someone named something that sounds like her word for 'grumble'."

Bucky tensed and his gaze dropped to the happy, chuffing fire where it was perched. He didn't know exactly what Kiki was, or what all she could do, but for now she resembled a small four-legged creature with a diamond shaped head and long almond shaped eyes made of blue flame. She scorched the ground wherever she ran, and he wondered if this was now why she seemed content to sit on her rock. "Where did she find this someone?"

Your mouth spread in a sickly expression, but it could still be described as an attempt at a winning smile. “Inside Joseph?" When Bucky understood that this was what Kiki had been doing between pouring her fire into him and the bullet through the heart that had ended it, the horror of it hit him like a brick. He looked back to you to find the same horror in your eyes. "I think?"

Bucky couldn't stop looking back and forth between you and the happy little flame continuing to scold the thing beneath her feet. "What is it?"

It's Grumble. She patted her hand against the obsidian spike she was holding and her eyes squinched up in delight. He's mine. He followed me through the hole but got confused and hid inside the demon man because I aimed at him. With that she dropped down and seemed to hug the stone, her flame wrapping close with what looked like affection.

You smiled a little at her apparent joy. "Okay." Still, you needed to know more about whatever had followed her from her world. She'd told you stories of some of the things that lived there. "But what is Grumble? Like, you're made of fire. What is he made of?" You were getting more and more curious, but you didn't move down the stairs yet, not sure that it was safe.

Oh! Kiki sounded surprised at the question, looking down at the stone she was perched upon with a head tilted in confusion. When she looked back up at you, that tilted head was a counterpoint to her perplexed tone. He's rock. You could almost hear the 'duh' that came after that sentence and you snorted softly in amusement. That's why he was so hard to move. Her voice took on a gentle, loving tone, and you realized that whatever or whoever Grumble was, he was evidently precious to Kiki. He's stubborn. And he's scared.

As you started down the stairs, you heard for the first time a rumbling at frequencies at the bottom of the audible range. You almost more felt the sound than heard it, so low were the vaguely annoyed growling noises that had Kiki answering in a spitting, roaring language that sounded like an approximation of them.

You got to the bottom of the stairs, doing everything in your power to keep your eyes on Kiki and her rock and not on what used to be Joseph. Once there, Kiki's face spread in what she used for a smile as she looked up at you and patted the stone beneath her again and said proudly, Grumble.

As he couldn't understand her, you explained to Bucky. "Grumble is this rock."

"I kind of figured that out for myself, thanks."

You shot Bucky a laughing grin, loving the irritated scowl on his face, delighted that he was back to regarding the world with a vague distrust. "He's also alive, and Kiki's friend. He followed her here when she got caught in Joseph's portal."

Bucky pulled you close and slung an arm around you to keep you there. "Pretty good friend." He smirked at you when his almost suggestive tone had your eyes flicking to his. You smirked back in acknowledgement before turning your gaze back to the flame creature that was now making a soothing chirring sound.

"Is it okay if I pick him up?" you asked her, needing to get away from Joseph as soon as possible. "So we can go inside?"

The little fire chirped a cheerful assent and nodded before immediately looking down to scold when the rock gave off what sounded like a hostile rumble. Bucky’s arm around your shoulders tightened slightly in response, a little concerned by it, and unwilling to watch you step again into peril so soon after the last time. "Let me, doll." You quirked a questioning eyebrow in his direction and he turned you in his arms to lean forward and brush your lips with his own, the gratitude he felt at having you safe bright in his eyes. He rested his forehead against yours, relief blowing through him, and smiled gently at you. "You've put yourself in danger enough tonight. I'm already gonna have nightmares."

You heard the dregs of fear in his voice, saw the relief of it in his face, and knew something of what it had cost him to watch you walk out the door to face Joseph. "Between Kiki," you answered, turning your cheek to tenderly rest it against his, "and you, I was never in any real danger."

Bucky's arms came around you in a move both fast and fierce. The next moment you were pressed firmly against him. His face was buried in your throat while he shuddered once, hard, before his hold gentled, and his lips brushed your skin as he spoke. "Sure didn't feel like it."

You simply held on, giving him the moment he needed to calm himself. He held you a moment longer than that, just for the joy of having you close. When he let you go, he flashed that million-watt grin of his that hit you like lightning every time and bent to pick up the little rumbly stone with his vibranium hand.

Kiki hopped out of the way and skittered up the hand you'd held out to nestle into her spot behind your ear where she could watch your world from your perspective. She had bonded herself to the roots of your hair, which is why your head started to smoke when she got angry. She was always more comfortable when she was closer to your scalp. From her perch she hissed in an encouraging tone towards the rock grumbling in Bucky's hand.

Bucky's eyes were on the stone, his brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. He didn't look away when you took his hand and began moving up the stairs toward the house, too focused on the resentful grumbles of annoyance vibrating in his hand, up his arm and into his brain. He thought that if he just worked at it, he could come to understand what the different pulses and vibrations meant.

"We think he likes you." Your voice seemed to pop and growl in the same way Kiki had spoken to Grumble and drew Bucky's attention. While he'd been trying to understand the rumbles of the little stone in his hand, you'd led him to the front door and the unconscious body on the threshold. He bent and hauled the only cult member left up and over his shoulder with his free hand.

Bucky eased past you to carry Joseph's lieutenant to the kitchen, part of his attention still on the now curious purrs coming from Grumble. "Yeah. Cool." He was clearly distracted, and you wondered what about Kiki's friend had him so captivated. "Let's go call Steve so he can come clean this up."

"Actually," you said as you hopped up onto the kitchen counter to watch Bucky drop Brit to the floor, "I have a better idea."

By the time you made it back into bed, it was late morning, and you were unsteady on your feet, the weariness of the night having long since caught up with you. Still, your house was clean of Brit's presence and your yard of Joseph's body thanks to the phone call you'd made. You'd once done Maria Hill a favor and she was only too delighted to repay it. Even so odd a request hadn't fazed her when faced with the opportunity to no longer be in anyone's debt. Once Maria's crew had left, you and Bucky had been able to fall into bed in a tangled heap of relieved exhaustion.

If Maria'd had any questions about who had disabled and professionally restrained the tall and powerful person in your foyer, or about the bullet exactly through the heart of the incinerated corpse on your lawn, she kept them to herself. You imagined Nick Fury had already received a full and detailed report, but that was to be expected. You could only hope she was focused on you, considered it a small price to pay to distract them from Bucky's presence in your home.

Now that you'd found him, you would not give him up without a fight.

Bucky had stayed in the little library at the front of the second floor with Kiki and Grumble while you'd dealt with the people Maria had sent. Though he'd considered hiding in the forest during the clean-up, you'd been anxious at the thought. He couldn't stand to get that far away from you, not when he could so clearly see the worry in your eyes when he suggested it.

While he waited, he'd tried to communicate with Grumble. Something about the rumbling vibrations that came from the little stone resonated with his metal arm. If he focused on the sensory data he was getting from the vibranium, he could recognize tone and feeling. He would swear with practice he could truly communicate with the creature.

The clean-up took long enough that he got a little of that practice, was able to communicate enough reassurance to convince Grumble to open small, almond-shaped obsidian eyes. Those eyes had seemed to dart upward to the flame that popped and crackled on top of him. She whistled excitedly and, wrapping her arms of flame around his spikes, rocked him back and forth in what was clearly joy.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at her antics, especially when he could feel Grumble's affection for her. He had placed one vibranium finger against one of the facets, could feel the relief, the gratitude underneath amused devotion, confirming Bucky's suspicions regarding their relationship. Whatever form it took, Grumble had followed Kiki because he loved her.

Bucky could understand that feeling easily. He understood now he would follow you into the jaws of hell if he had to.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Instead, he was laying on his side and nose to nose with you in the warmth of your bed and the only thing he cared about was hearing the words again. His arms were wrapped around you, his metal arm under your head, the other pressing you against him to feel your skin all over him.

Until he'd started sleeping in your bed, he hadn't realized how hungry he was for touch. Once he'd found the glory of your body warm and soft against his, he'd swiftly become obsessed. You were a feast to the famished, sweet and hot and delicious. His preference for having nothing between you whenever possible had been immediately apparent and something you indulged without comment. That silent acceptance inspired his everlasting gratitude as he hadn't known then how to tell you what it meant to him.

He knew now.

"Doll," his voice rumbled from his chest into yours and had you humming in pleasure and pressing closer, "I told you I wanted to talk about your timing." The feel of your body, warm and generous as you snuggled against his skin made both his body heat and his heart ache, and his hands smoothed over your skin in ways meant to make you shiver.

Your face melted into a bashful anxiety that made Bucky's heart pound like a drum. He couldn't believe that you could ever think that he'd be anything but endlessly thankful that you could feel a fraction of what he felt for you and he was terrified that you'd misunderstood. "Say it again, please," he whispered, his eyes burning like blue flames, "when there's time for me to say it back."

Your breath rushed out in relief, in joy, and your smile shone as your eyes blazed. You'd hoped the softness in his eyes had been reflecting his heart. "I love you, Bucky."

The sound of the words, the shape of them as they left your lips sent a feeling thrilling through his entire body, as though they had seeped beneath his skin and into the center of his being. His voice was hoarse with that desperate emotion when he answered. "I love you, too."

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours and he was taking your breath away. You let him, not needing air when you were breathing his breath, breathing him. Your body already yearning to his, your skin set aflame everywhere he touched, you gave yourself up to his embrace with nothing held back.

Bucky was drowning in you, in the soft warmth you'd shown him from the first time, gladly going under. He loved to hear the words, but now that he knew the name of the emotion that left your mouth so soft against his, he had to keep tasting it on your tongue. Your hands were as fervid as your mouth in their race over his skin, as greedy as your lips as they fed from his. The feeling went to his head and soaked into his body to make him ache with a joyous kind of need. The sound of your pleasure in your throat seemed to resonate with his bones.

His lips left yours to press to the pulse in your throat, wanting both the taste of your skin and the thump of your heart, glorying in the temptation of your voice. "I think my luck changed, too,” you murmured.

Bucky's body seemed to clench in reaction to the ache in your tone and he rolled until he was stretched out on top of you, his hips between your thighs, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He was smiling sweetly as he brushed his lips over yours, but that smile turned sly as he bent to kiss your neck again. "I met your ex. Your luck completely changed."

The feel of your laughter vibrating in your throat under his lips sent a rush through him, lust and love tangled together to keep his touch tender even as his hands began to wander to incite, to arouse.

Skin to skin and heart to heart, you were soon entwined and rocking toward ecstasy. Always a joyous experience, your joining was even sweeter, now that you had given each other the love you’d both been holding back. The words were as sweet on your lips as they were to his ear when you whispered them as you quaked in pleasure. His arms enveloped you and the choked cry of your name had your hands gliding over him to hold him through his own rapture.

A long time later, once he’d adored you to his own exacting standards, pleasuring you thoroughly and doing all he could to erase the memory of the night before from both your minds, you lay boneless and satisfied in each other’s arms.

“I kind of feel weird about what we just did.” His voice was low and raspy and made you shiver agreeably. His tone was so quiet and calm, it didn’t break the silence as much as it dismissed it. You marveled at the fact that your body was utterly exhausted and still yearned. Even now you could want him. “You know, with them here.”

You glanced at the nightstand where Kiki lay curled up on top of Grumble, both ostensibly asleep. You could still feel the gentle hum of her awareness in the back of your mind, however, and knew she was still half-awake. You smiled and turned back to Bucky to nuzzle his mouth with your own.

"Kiki lives at the roots of my hair; she's seen it." You'd used up what little energy you had and let your head fall back to the pillow. Bucky, on the other hand, lifted his head to stare at you as you continued. "They're not interested, I promise." His look of mildly horrified confusion made you snort, but you answered defensively. "She sets fires if she just wanders around freely. This is the first time she's been able to hang out somewhere else."

"She lives in your hair?" You laughed out loud at the tone of his voice, rich with baffled shock, and the worried eyes that raked the top of your head as he craned his neck to see your scalp. "Doesn't that hurt?"

You were still laughing as you lifted one heavy arm to draw his head down to yours for a long, tender kiss. You should have known that his one worry would be for your safety, your comfort. This was why you'd fallen in love with the man, the generous heart that beat so true beneath that delightfully gruff exterior.

Your voice was a little breathless from the kiss when it broke, but still soft with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her, about Joseph, any of it." That remorse also softened your mouth as it brushed over his beautiful face. "At first it was because I promised to keep her secret, then it was because I was afraid."

Bucky appreciated the apology but considered it unnecessary as he could easily understand your reticence considering the circumstances. Even if he wanted to be angry, he was pretty sure that was impossible with you soft and warm in his arms, with your gentle mouth brushing love into his skin. He should probably be concerned that you had such a hold on him, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Snuggling you closer, he smoothed his palm slowly up your spine as he closed his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of your skin against his. "Afraid of what?" He murmured the question, and you could feel in the way he pressed you closer that he was wondering if he had the energy to love you one more time. Alas, you were pretty sure you did not, but that didn't stop your heart from kicking like it was willing to find out.

You used the arm you'd slid around his waist to pull yourself tightly against him so that you could bury your face in his neck. His palm was just rough enough to send shivers through you as he skimmed it over your skin. "That it would be too much, too weird." You smiled against his throat when he scoffed. "I have custody of a fire elemental. She's kind of a lot."

Bucky scoffed harder and rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I'm an international fugitive because I spent the last several decades a brainwashed assassin." His hand had reached the nape of your neck, only to turn and start the path back down, his touch both soothing and tender. "That's kind of a lot, too, but you don't seem to mind."

You sighed in pleasure, in contentment, and let your eyes drift closed. The warmth of his body, the smooth skim of his skin over yours, the rumble of his voice as he spoke all combined to leave you boneless and sleepy in his arms. "I knew what I was getting into," you murmured and the beginning of a slur to your tone alerted Bucky to your fading consciousness.

He smiled and felt the last of his own tension start to fade. If you were as happily content as your body seemed to communicate as you rested so trustingly against him, he saw no need to stay on guard. He let himself relax and enjoy the sensation of love and safety that had been so rare in his life until he met you. "You were on fire the first time I saw you," he reminded you gently, smiling at the memory now that he knew how truly safe from the fire he was. "I wasn't exactly in the dark."

You tilted your head back so that you could look into his face. His mouth was soft with affection, his blue eyes bright behind lowered lids. The way-past-five-o'clock-shadow darkening his features only added to the deliciously dangerous look of him. The sight of him made your heart race and your throat swell. A little breathless with it, with him, you kissed him gently. "I love you."

Bucky's grin flashed, dazzling white against the dark of his stubble. "I will never get tired of hearing that." His pretty lips brushed yours once, twice, before he gave in and sank into a long, tender kiss. When he raised his head again, your eyes fluttered open to meet icy blue hot with emotion. "I love you, too, doll."

Your face lit up with a bright and happy smile that made Bucky feel ten feet tall. When you snuggled into his arms and closed your eyes with a sigh of contentment, seemingly determined to fall asleep in his arms, he simply adjusted to maximize the comfort of you both and prepared to follow you into dreamland.

Just as his eyes were falling closed, Bucky's gaze landed on the little stone that had followed Kiki into this world. The vibrations that seemed to resonate with his arm and into his brain were still causing questions to chase each other in circles around his mind. There was only one person he would consider trusting with this secret, and she was also the only person who understood vibranium well enough to answer any of those questions.

"How do you feel about international travel?" His voice was loud enough to keep you from sliding into sleep, but still a low, sexy rumble. If only you could stay awake. "I know someone who would kill to meet Grumble."

You snorted, softly, and turned to rub your face against the skin of his collarbones, basking in him. "Let me know when you convince Grumble and I'm in." Your mouth twisted sardonically against his chest, even as you started to relax back into sleep. It was impossible to stay awake when your worst enemy was dead, your worst worries were over, and you were safe and comfortable in the arms of the sweetest man you'd ever known. "Then we can all try to convince Kiki."

Bucky couldn't resist the siren song of the softness of your body, bonelessly trusting, nor that of a deep and dreamless sleep that he knew would be his reward for getting you through the crisis safe and sound. "Will that be difficult?"

"She's paranoid and temperamental." Bucky could hear a small, half-hearted hiss coming from the direction of the nightstand. That hiss prompted a forceful and challenging change to your tone. "Yes. Unless Grumble has some ability to persuade that we don't, it will be very difficult."

Next came a sound like a small tumble of gravel, but the little clacks of rock against each other had such an amused tone to it, you couldn't help but hear it. Bucky laughed out loud, as he could hear the smug assurance underneath the laughter and knew Grumble was perfectly capable of persuading Kiki. Her hissing denial was clearly weak to everyone in the room, and it was clear she was as smitten with Grumble as he with her.

Though the little flame sounded irritated, you could hear the reluctant amusement mixed with attraction in the back of your mind and wondered what Kiki saw when she looked at the other creature. Whatever it was, she was as caught in her sexy, grumpy partner as you were in yours.

Bucky grinned at you, thoroughly familiar with the feeling of smug amusement he was getting from Grumble, since he got to experience it every time you lost your train of thought looking at him. You grinned back, reluctantly amused by the arrogance all over him, and thinking you and Kiki had a lot more in common than you'd thought.

The End

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