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#she's there in spirit. she's in the tent.
jaded-falcon · 2 days
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Melissa and Savannah enter the medical tent where Spirit is resting - 12 hours after she shot. Not the quickest check in from friends, but then they did have some things to do today...
The Canopian and Kuritan medics, all wearing an identical patch depicting a steel grey hawk looming with outstretched Talon over Helios patch, look up from Spirit in surprise.
"Out," says the Commanding General of the SLDF, and the medics quickly make themselves scarce. She is unhappy, from her tone. Spirit - Eliza - can see that much. But Savannah...
Savannah just seems disappointed.
( @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not )
Spirit was a soldier at her core. When she saw the two enter her medical tent, she sat up and saluted immediately.
"General. Lady Cameron." She gestured to the bandages wrapped around her core. "Unaccounted Blakist caught me with two assault rifle bullets, one to the right side of my core, the other to my neurohelmet. No critical damage; just some dinged muscles and tissue damage. I will be back on the frontline within seventy-two hours. Sooner, assuming I want to deal with some pain."
Despite her condition, Spirit's eyes blazed a brilliant blue... which was rather odd, considering she'd had hazel eyes before.
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atissi · 2 years
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well these pieces are oooold by now but the Fodlan Cuizine cookbook has finally finished sending out preorders and i can post them!
first piece is my page illustration, and then the other two are based on the cocktails from the cookbook, themed around the Crimson Flower and Azure Moon routes respectively. these were really fun to work on and I enjoyed getting the chance to do food illustrations >:) which im definitely not doing more of this summer >:)
leftover sales for the zine will be open until july 8 --> link here
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abrilstevens · 3 months
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my party right now is minthara, jaheira, and selunite shadowheart. tav and the silver foxes
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babygirlgiles · 2 years
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📓
Omg thank you for the ask and the opportunity to rant about my all time favorite daydream fic!
I have been daydreaming about this one forever, it's gone through so many iterations and morphed so much since the first time the idea "omg but what if Willow and Tara had a gay little farm" popped into my head, but it still is The Gay Little Farm fic in my mind until I hopefully come up with a better title lol.
The Gay Little Farm is a gothic horror-y story set in a canon-divergent AU where Willow doesn't go back to Sunnydale after season 6. The fic itself is set several years down the line, after Sunnydale has been destroyed, when-- after spending some time learning more about herself through traveling, living with various covens, going to community college in San Francisco, and eventually getting a degree in computer science and working for a robotics lab-- Willow has recently bought a small farm in New England (I was missing Massachusetts when the idea was first conceived, don't judge lmao. Plus you can't really beat the ambient horror vibes of rural New England).
By the time the fic starts, Giles is the only one of the group that still talks to her. Buffy and Xander were pretty pissed about her decision to not come back, but Giles supported it ultimately because he felt all her emotions in Grave, so he understands the depths of her anguish and understands that she really doesn't know herself anymore, and supports her trying to figure out who she is on her own terms. (Also, he supports her because I asked the very essential question: "what if the btvs writers had decided to leverage how similar Willow's trajectory is to Giles's backstory even the teeniest tiniest bit?" lmao).
Throughout this time, they've emailed each other extensively, like nearly every day, but when Willow's emails start to become less and less frequent after buying the farm, Giles doesn't really think much of it; he knows she's busy trying to get everything set up to be an operational growing season, and that she doesn't have an internet connection at her new house yet so she has to go into town to email him.
It's explicable, so he doesn't worry about it until one day he gets several increasingly bizarre, almost unintelligible, concerning emails in very quick succession.
(lol I'm gonna put a read more because this got long lol. But if anyone else wants to send me one of these ask games : Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.)
She doesn't reply to any of his emails, doesn't answer the phone so he gets on the first flight across the Atlantic to go check on her (it's partly panic, but partly because he's not really pleased with where his life is at the moment anyway, but I won't get into that, this is already getting too long lol, just let it suffice to say he's glad for the excuse to just pack off to somewhere else suddenly). But when Giles gets there, Willow seems perfectly fine. She says she doesn't even have any clue what he's talking about when he tries to bring up the emails, and he figures she must just be embarrassed or something and not want to talk about it, so he drops it.
He decides to stay at the farm for a bit to keep an eye on her and make sure she's okay, but the longer he's there, the more and more weird things start happening. Even as he falls into the rhythms of life on her little farm and gets comfortable there, he can't shake the feeling that something is very wrong. He's having bizarre dreams that are becoming increasingly prophetic, even though there's absolutely no way he should be having prophetic dreams. He starts remembering things-- or at least they feel like memories, but they're certainly not things that ever happened to him. One night, he catches Willow in the middle of what looks like a blood magic ritual, but when he stops her, it's like she wakes up from sleepwalking and has absolutely no recollection of what happened. He's suspicious of Willow and what she might be doing, but also increasingly convinced the house is working some kind of dark magic on them both, so he sets out to research the place. But the nearby town clerk's office, the town's historical society, everywhere he can think to check has absolutely no record of this house existing.
Anyway, I won't spoil what is actually going on with the house because I am for real going to write this (I sort of started a while ago, but as I watched more of the show, my plot and ideas changed SO much). But really, at its core, everything that's going on with the house is about processing their grief, about building a life, about them repairing their relationships, and about the two of them having to come together to do all that by working together to figure out what's going on (although, Willow already suspects what's going on long before Giles even arrives, she just doesn't want to accept it...). The whole story is just like, what if Willow and Giles reconnected in adulthood and finally worked through some of their immense baggage about each other but also just their baggage in general? :) And also there was a farm. :)
#myfic#thank you so much for sending this i had so much fun answering!! love to share my stories about my little guys#once i finish the current big fic im working on#this is the next one i want to write so. keep an eye out.#literally i was actually so so close to entirely abandoning the idea about willow having a farm.#bc originally it was a willow and tara have a farm together and then giles comes to stay on the gay little farm with them :)#i literally probably thought of that watching s4 and then i remembered that tara was going to die and i was like :) idc :) farm :)#but I think the further i got the more like... idk it just didnt really feel genuine to the spirit of the farm and what i wanted to tell#for her to just be inexplicably alive? it just wasnt the story i wanted to tell#so then i was like okay :) Tara's spirit is on the farm :) and then Giles and Willow bring her back to life :)#and then I watched s6 and was like WOW. So apparently !! being resurrected !! fucking SUCKS!!!!!!!#and like. i couldn't do that to my girl I just COULDNT!!#and then i was thinking about it more the timeline made no sense it was like why is willow on this farm why is she on the farm alone#and by this point i had like. a considerable amount of Giles coming to visit her on the farm written lmao#but even tho i was like these are all good scenes and good writing like WHAT is the context WHAT is going on#and apparently backpacking is the best time to have fic ideas ever#bc i remember the exact moment where it came to me like a fucking epiphany just. oh. its canon divergent. its an s7 au.#i was out in the hammock watching the moon and scrambled back into the tent to get my notebook (almost woke my friend up in the process)#and was like frantically scribbling down how it all finally came together by moonlight in the hammock#so im glad i didn't abandon the idea and let it keep puttering around until the hammock worked its magic#I’ll also add. there’s an accompanying playlist. that I play while I daydream about it lmao.
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zenyuu · 1 year
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Did i ever talk abt the one time my aunt got a bunch of rashes and blisters on her face the day after she went to the cemetery and insulted one of the graves
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melzula · 3 months
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well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?
zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?
i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂
a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!
summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
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“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”
“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.
“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.
“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.
You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.
“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”
“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”
“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”
“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.
“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.
“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.
“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.
“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”
“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”
After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.
“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”
“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.
You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21
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stil-lindigo · 4 months
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You'r eunder no obligation to reply but I'd like to ask, how do you keep your head up these days considering the genocide? It's been nearly five months now, my entire family is giving up the stirke and falling into propoganda, and every time i think "surely this is the end, no way the us will keep supporting this, israel is on limited time" i keep seeing no end in my twitter feed to the countless losses, i keep seeing gore and childrens butchered on my tiktok. i dont wanna lose hope or faith but ive started feeling so depressed these days that i dont even wanna open my social media because i know what ill see. it might sound selfish but i hope i can open up my tiktok and see silly little people doing trends again instead of seeing one between 6 posts asking to use filters so that they can donate and detailing the necessities that israel banned from palestine and it just feels so soul crushing and hopeless. it makes me feel worse because if im tired of it then how do palestanians cope being in it? if you have any tips or good news id be grateful
hi anon. A lot of what Palestinians report first-hand is graphic, and horrifying, and would contribute to that soul-crushing feeling. But they are so tenacious, they have so much love for their people, their country. Often, Bisan or Motaz or Plestia when she was still in Gaza will share little slices of joy from displaced Palestinians. It reinvigorates me, and I'll often return to watch them when things seem dire.
A baby in Gaza, blessedly unaware of the horrors. Look at that smile!
A Palestinian mother makes donuts for her children, and offers Bisan one as she prepares for an interview. She (the mother) talks about how she makes treats like this to try to cheer up her children, how she keeps herself busy like this so she can't feel the grief of the situation. It is expensive to buy firewood these days, and flour. At her side, her children chip away at a block of wood to help her.
if you'd like to support people like this family, donate to CareforGaza, which directly distributes supplies and money to families in need. They have stopped donations to their Gofundme campaign due to overwhelming support, but you can still donate via the paypal link in their bio.
Young Palestinians parkour in the ruins of Gaza, to show that Israeli bombing will not kill their spirits.
Mo, a Palestinian man, buys cat food after searching for two days straight, and feeds the stray cats in Gaza.
Palestinian children at a refugee camp filming a cute video.
Although they've lost their home, a Palestinian family gather to celebrate their youngest child's birthday, complete with a small cake and a birthday hat.
Bisan makes bread in Khan Younis.
Palestinians celebrate the birthday of an injured girl in hospital, with a small cake. One of them has dressed up as a clown.
After losing 22 members of his family and being injured in a bombardment, a Palestinian man named Mohammed Al Ghandour marries his fiance in a tent.
A Palestinian journalist plays with a baby who survived an airstrike.
@/nisreendiary on TikTok documents the process of making fresh bread in a tent in a calming video.
I got most of these off twitter, from this thread. Twitter is a hellscape at the best of times, but the easy communication it provides is a blessing. I'll try to share more of the good news here, as they pop up. In the future, I recommend you follow Eye on Palestine, or Al Jazeera if you'd like to stay informed on the situation in Gaza with minimal scrolling.
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whywishesarehorses · 2 years
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Pensioner sets off on 600-mile pony trek with pet dog in saddlebag
Jane Dotchin, 80, has been making the unusual journey from Northumberland to the Highlands since 1972. (Story from STV News)
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An 80-year-old woman who wears an eyepatch is on an annual trek with her pony from England to the Highlands – on a seven-week adventure which began in 1972.
Jane Dotchin packs her saddlebags onto her trusty pony’s back every year, and heads to the hills from her home near Hexham, Northumberland, on an epic 600-mile trek to Inverness, covering between 15 and 20 miles a day.
She set off on August 31 with her steed, Diamond, aged 13, and her disabled Jack Russell named Dinky for company, from the off-grid smallholding where she lives.
She carries everything she needs including her tent, food and just a few belongings – and despite wearing an eyepatch is determined to continue as long as she can.
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Ms Dotchin said: “My mother would look after my other ponies but she wasn’t that keen on looking after my Halfinger stallion, so I rode him down to Somerset to see a friend, which is about 300 miles.
“It was a bit of a hard slog, but it was good.”
After that initial journey, she caught the taste for the open road and travelled to visit friends near Fort Augustus, near Loch Ness, every autumn since.
The journey takes around seven weeks depending on weather and Ms Dotchin tries to stop off to see people she has met over the years.
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She said: “I refuse to go slogging on through pouring wet rain.
“There are a few different routes I can take depending on the weather.
“I don’t want to go over hilltops in foul weather, but I work it out on the way.
“I don’t bother with maps, I just keep to the routes I know.
“It is nice to go and see [people] again – I ring them up in the morning to say I’m going to be there in the evening.
“I don’t warn them too far in advance, because if the weather suddenly changes or I decide to stop early then they can be left wondering where I’ve got to.”
Disabled Jack Russell Dinky, who has deformed front legs, travels in a saddle bag.
Ms Dotchin said: “She manages fine, when there is a nice grassy track she gets out and has a run, but she doesn’t like stoney ground but she is a nice hot water bottle for me in the tent.”
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She said: “I asked for something good and solid in my old age and he got me a cob from Ireland. I struggle to get on her half the time, but otherwise I manage fine.”
Her diet consists of porridge oats, oatcakes and cheese which is bought at local shops.
She prefers to make porridge with milk, but water will suffice.
Ms Dotchin added: “You can always boil it from a stream.”
Her bathroom habits are equally DIY, and she said: “I dig a hole.”
Ms Dotchin is devastated by the littering she has seen over the years and said Cumbernauld, North Lanarkshire, is somewhere she finds “shameful” due to the amount of rubbish.
She said: “It’s appalling, in particular single used barbecues which are left lying all over the place.
“Cumbernauld is the fly-tipping capital of Britain.
“There are some lovely people there who let me camp, but some of it is so disgusting and shameful.”
Campervans on single track roads have also become a more persistent problem.
She said: “Drivers just didn’t seem to know how wide they were, I was forever just about getting swept off the roads by them.”
The right to roam has helped with countryside access, but she said: “There are still some locked gates or little side gates that you can’t get a horse with packs on through.”
For emergencies she carries an old mobile phone as the battery lasts six weeks.
Ms Dotchin said: “I keep it switched off and just ring out to ring up landowners to get gates unlocked or to warn people when I’m coming but sometimes the trouble is getting a signal.”
During the foot and mouth crisis in 2001 she went on bicycle instead.
She said: “I covered many more miles with the dog in a pannier but it was not the same, I missed my horse.”
In recognition of her independent spirit, and many years of long distance trekking, she received The British Horse Society lifetime achievement award last year, which she said was “a bit of a surprise.”
During her travels she witnesses rutting deer and stags fighting in the autumn, and foxes.
She said: “There is always something interesting happening and there is never a dull moment.
“I will probably be stopped one of these days.”
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samandcolbyownme · 7 months
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Summary: anon request - "can you do one where y/n likes Colby and he likes her but they don't really do anything about it but flirt until they're at the spot and a ghost/demon thing (you can completely make up the scenario), torments and targets y/n to the point she's crying and runs out with Colby chasing after her? Pleaseeeee"
Warning: This one shot will start out kinda funny and flirty between reader and Colby, but it will get dark and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by.
Read with care my lovelies!
Word count: 10.3k
Disclaimer: I completely made this story up!
"We're going to explore the Hellriegel Manor in a few days.. you in?" Colby says on the other end of the phone. You smile to yourself and sigh, "I suppose I can make time in my very busy schedule for you."
You are always up for doing a video with them, even hanging out with them off camera. You've known them for a while, so sleeping over at their place or in the same tent while in the middle of some haunted woods wasn't that big of a deal, or so you thought.
"You better, y/l/n. We need you on this one." Colby chuckles to myself, "Plus, we kinda miss you out here."
You liked Colby, a lot actually. Sam is always teasing you guys, mainly because he knows he likes you too, but you both always shoot it down for stupid reasons.
You thought that maybe it would be best if you just kept him as a close friend, but the light flirting and how comfortable you are with each other makes it incredibly hard, not to mention, you and Colby are always thinking about each other though, especially when you crash at their place, and when you're asleep in a tent within in an arms reach away from each other.
You laugh as you hear Sam in the background yelling, "Don't let him lie to you y/n. He's been crying like a baby every night since you've been gone."
Point proven.
"Shut up, dude, my god. She can hear you." Coby says with a groan and you can tell that he's getting shy, "Fuck." You picture his big smile as you grab your laptop, listening to them bicker back and forth like usual.
You had to admit, you missed them, too. Even though you're visiting your family on the east coast, you honestly felt homesick.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow." You bite your lip, waiting for a response but it's quiet, "Um, hello?"
You hear muffled yelling, and you already know that it's Colby trying to get Sam to keep his mouth shut, "That's great, y/n! See you tomorrow!" Colby yells over Sam trying to yell out.
"Stop it. Please." You can hear Colby laugh, and Sam yells, still slightly muffled, "Bye!"
You hang up and shake your head laughing as you click open a new tab and type in the place Colby said you're going.
"Hellriegel Manor." You repeat to out loud after reading one do the old newspaper headlines. You scroll down as your eyes scan over the screen,
Multiple prostitutes brutally murdered in Hellriegel Manor
Callum Hellriegel is the devil himself
The ruthless murder of Hellriegel Manor revealed
Callum Hellriegel, killer found dead by self inflicted gunshot wound to head
The town thinks workers at the manor were involved
You blink a few times, shaking your head as you let out a sigh. You reach for your phone and FaceTime Colby.
He picks up fast, "Hey."
"So a possible demon. That's nice." You look into the camera and tilt your head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, "I was trying to wait until you got here to tell you, but I guess cats out of the bag."
You nod, "Yeah, yeah." You laugh slightly and squint, "Oh no." Colby looks behind him then back to you, "What?"
"It's quiet... did you finally kill Sam?" You smile slowly and he laughs, "No, no. He's upstairs editing."
"So I called at the right time then, huh?" You tease and he nods with a smile, "Yeah, yeah, you did."
You move back onto your bed, continuing to look up the manor, "Colby."
"Yes?" He asks staring at you through his phone, but he looks away when you look, "This place looks fucking creepy, and it sounds even worse."
You know what he's about right say next, so you cut him off by speaking, "I'm still going." You bite your lip as you read, "I think with having a girl there, it might help us figure out what really happened."
He nods, "I was taking to Sam about that, too, actually. It also might be the worse because of how bad that Callum dude is made out to be."
"Yeah, but.." You nod slowly as you read more, and your eyes widen, "Colby."
"Y/n."
"Do you know what Hellriegel means?" Your eyes move over to your phone that's propped up against your computer screen and he shakes his head, "Probably something not good."
"It means the Devil, in German." You swallow slowly, "Fuck I have the chills now."
"Again.. if you do-"
"I'm going." You smirk, "My flight is already booked and.." just as you were about to say something really sweet, you hear Colby groan and Sam appears on the screen, "Ayo!"
You laugh and wave, "Hi again Sam."
"She's looking up Hellriegel Manor." Colby looks up at him and he sighs, "Does that mean you cancelled your flight?"
You scoff, "Please. Do you not have any faith in me, Golbach?" He smirks and rolls his eyes, "You right. Plus you'll have this guys, Mr intimidator here, to protect you." He grabs Colby's shoulders and shakes him slightly.
Colby's face is turning red, but so were your cheeks. You had to admit, it's getting a lot harder for you to resist each other, especially when he is making sure you're okay in the middle of an investigation.
He was and is the one you run to when you're jumping out of your skin scared.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I gotta go tell my parents that I'm leaving tomorrow." You pick up your phone and set your laptop down before you get up.
"Text us your landing time and we'll be here." Sam says and you give him a thumbs up. He walks away and Colby points the phone back to him, "Tell them we said hey and I'll see you tomorrow."
You smile and nod, "I will, and I'll see you tomorrow."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You couldn't stop thinking about what Colby said, about this possibly being a bad idea about you going, but you never turned away an adventure with Sam and Colby.
You're not going to start now.
As you walk through the airport, you hear your name being called. You jump slightly and turn, seeing Sam and Colby walking up to you.
"How was your flight?" Sam asks bringing you in for a hug. You hug him back, "It was alright, boring but alright." You look over at Colby who can't wait to have you in his arms, as you lean back from Sam.
"Glad you made it here safe." Colby wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You close your eyes, happy to be back with them until Sam clears his throat, "Maybe get a room or something?"
"Dude." Colby says loosening his arms from your waist as he turns to him trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes, "You'll never quit will you?"
He shrugs and holds his hands up, "Maybe if you guys would just admit that you like each other.."
"Oh my god." You try to hide your smile, but ayour cheeks regaining that blush of pink like normal doesn't help matters at all, "Can we just go please? I'm hungry."
Colby laughs slightly and wheels your suitcase behind him, "Yes. Please." He glares over at Sam who can't help but smirk at him.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Back at the house, they give you the rundown on what they know about Hellriegel.
"So as you already know, Callum Hellriegel was a very.." Sam trials off as he tilts his head and you raise your eyebrows, "Devil of a man?"
Sam nods, "Exactly."
Colby speaks up, "There's been a mix of good and bad investigations, so it's really hard to tell what exactly we'll be dealing with."
You nod, "Hmm. Well I mean, if it gets too bad we can always high tail it out of there."
Colby nods, "Yeah, exactly. did you read up on anything else after our call or no?" You shake your head, "Since you said you wanted to fill me in, I figured I'd wait. Hear what you have to say." You smirk slightly and he nods.
"How nice of you." Sam says laughing, "But on a serious note guys.." he looks to Colby and back at you, "we truly have no idea what we're going to walk into."
"That's the exciting part though, right?" You shrug and smile, trying to stay positive because you were actually shitting your pants about going to this place.
"Bingo." Sam points and looks at his phone when it goes off, "That's the owner of the manor.." he answers, "Hello?"
You and Colby exchange smiles as you look back to Sam who is nodding, "Alright sick, yeah thank you." He hangs up and looks between you and Sam, "Tomorrow night."
You're kinda shocked but then again, kinda not surprised that it's happening this soon, "Oh great."
"What? Getting scared are we?" Sam teases and you side eye him, "Where is your faith in me, Sam? We talked about this." You laugh and he shakes his head, "I honestly didn't expect him to let us in that easy. It's always been a fight for other investigators to go there."
You smile, "You guys are changing the world, how could they not?"
"You're a part of this team too, y/n.." Colby smiles and looks from you to Sam, "So we are changing the world." He looks back to you, "You sure you're up for this?"
"I'm sure."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
It wasn't until two am when you stared up at the ceiling, wondering if you really are sure about this. The more you thought about it the more it scared you but this is what you do, you remind yourself over and over again.
This is what you do.
Luckily, this isn't the first time you've been in this situation, and each time you are, both Sam and Colby make sure you're okay, along with each other of course.
You let out a sigh, rolling over to face the tv and your phone lights up. You reach out, grabbing it to pull back over to you and you see it's a message from Colby, I know you're nervous about this place and honestly.. we are too, but if things do turn bad, we'll get out of there.
You turn onto your back and a smile rests on your lips and your thumbs quickly tap the keyboard on your screen, I was actually needing that reassurance right now. I can't sleep because I am very nervous about tomorrow, but we've probably been through worse, right?
As you're waiting for a reply, you see a twitter notification pop up at the top of your screen and you laugh slightly, "Fucking Sam."
You click on the notification,
@/SamGolbach: New video popping up soon! @/Colbybrock, @/yourtwittername, and myself are going to be spending the night in the Hellriegel Manor. Stay tuned!!
You like the tweet and retweet it with a bunch of nervous face emojis and Colby instantly likes it.
You click on your group chat with both Sam and Colby, So we're all just up huh?
Sam texts back, Um, no. Only losers who won't confess their love for each other are awake at 2 in the morning
Same texts back again, talking about you Brock
Colby sends you a text separately then replies into the group chat, I'm not up what are you talking about?
You laugh as you type, bring the party down here, I'm kinda freaking myself out
Sam instantly replies, Take it to Colby's room
"Sam!" You hear Colby yell from upstairs and then a door opens, "Only trying to help." Sam says as he comes down the stairs, a shirtless Colby behind him, "Only making it worse, brother."
You sit up, looking back at them, "Can you turn the light on, please?"
Colby nods, flipping the light on and Sam instantly yells, "Oh my god, behind you."
You jump up off the couch, running backwards towards them and you push Sam when you turn to him, "Asshole."
"That wasn't cool, man." Colby shakes his head at Sam and you look up at Colby, "You can laugh." He fights it, and shakes his head, "No.. no.. it's alright."
You roll your eyes and make your way back to the couch, turning on a YouTube video about the manor, "Let's learn all we can shall we?"
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You don't even know when you fell asleep, you just know that when you woke up, you weren't alone. You look up at a still sleeping Colby, smiling slightly as you listen to him snore softly.
Your attention is ripped away when you hear Sam coming down the steps carrying his backpack, "Mornin' sleepy heads.. or head.. I'll let you wake the beast."
You smirk and shake your head, looking back at Colby, staring at him for a few seconds before tapping his chest, "Hey, Colbs."
He doesn't budge so you tap harder and lean in, "Colby." He jumps slightly and looks at you with an immediate smile taking over his face, "oh hey." He stretches his arm slightly, "What time is it?"
You tilt your head back, "Sam what time is it?"
"Almost time to leave."
"That doesn't give me a-"
"It's nine." He smirks when you look at him, raising his eyebrows as he motions to you and Colby, making a heart with his hands. You wave him off and look back at Colby, "It's nine."
He sighs and sits up, "Okay. So we have an hour until Sam wants to leave."
"You know me so well." Sam says walking over and grabbing stuff off the coffee table. You tilt your head, "More like you drilled it into our heads repeatedly last night."
He mocks you before sighing, "Do you have to fight me on everything?"
You stand up and stretch, "Would I be one of your friend if I didn't?"
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
After getting everything around, you finally make your way to the car.
"I figured we could film the intro once we got there?" Sam says playing around with the camera. Colby nods, "Works for me."
You lean back in the seat, clicking on the message Colby sent you before they came downstairs last night, I really didn't expect you to be awake so this is awkward, but you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? And I don't just mean that with the ghost hunting.
You smile to yourself, but snap out of it when Sam starts talking and you know he's recording, "We are on our way to Hellriegel Manor, we just left a little bit ago so we should be there in like two hours or so. How are you guys feeling?"
He turns the camera to Colby, "Colby. How are we feeling, buddy?"
Colby shrugs and laughs, "I am ready to try and get answers on whether this is truly a demon or not."
Sam turns the camera back to you, "Y/n. You shaking in your boots back there?"
"No but I will be once we hit that final stretch towards it." You laugh, "I'm excited."
Sam turns the camera around so it's on all of you, "We will keep you guys updated along the way. So far it'll be driving but you guys, luckily get to skip that part." He cuts the camera off and you can't help but laugh.
"What?" Sam asks turning and Colby laughs with you, "I'm laughing because she's laughing."
You sigh, "I don't even know why I'm laughing. I think I'm nervous now."
"Well, we can drop you off here. It's not a long walk back." Sam teases and you know he can feel your glare through the back of his seat, Colby's too.
"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." Sam laughs and it's pretty much just joking back and forth the whole way there because let's face it, you were scared to go there and you were all worried about each other.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Sam clicks the camera on as you drive through the rusted old gate, "We have arrived at our destination." He points the camera to Colby and he gives a big smile as he laughs, "I think I just shit my pants. This place is fucking creepy even in the day time, man." He leans forward, looking at the huge, visibly old house.
"Look at those pillars." Sam says with a sigh, "I have a feeling we underestimated this guys."
You nod, "Mhm." Sam puts the camera on you as Colby parks the car and you purse your lips together, "I just got cold."
Both of them turn back to look at you, "Really?" Colby asks and looks at Sam, "That's not good."
Sam turns the camera around and makes a face, "We literally just pulled up and already one of us is feeling something. If that doesn't say anything about this place.."
"You guys didn't feel that? I mean maybe it was a freak thing, but as soon as we went through the gate, I felt something and then the closer we got to the house I got a chill."
"Wow." Sam is shocked, "Alright, well on that note, we'll see you guys in a second." He ends it and turns back to you, "Are you good?"
You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Colby looks back at you, giving you an are you actually look and you nod again, "Let's go."
As you get out of the car, Sam starts rolling again, "Alright guys, we are here at the Hellriegel Manor." He shows the old building, "This place is just.. I don't know."
"I'll tell you what it is, insane." Colby says while straining his voice as he leans into the camera.
You knew tonight wasn't going to be a good night, for you at least. You have continuously felt energy since the moment you crossed through the gate, and some of it wasn't good.
"Y/n?" Colby says walking over to you, "You good? You just like zoned out for a minute there."
You blink a few times and look up at him, "We might not be spending the whole night here."
Sam moves up to you, "Really? Why do you-"
"Something just moved in that very top-right window." You point and Sam moves the camera up to it, "Shit, are you serious? Colby did you see that?"
Colby shakes his head, "Shit. No."
"You Sam and Colby?" An older guy who's followed by two more guys, yells out.
"Hey, yes sir.." Colby says walking over and you and Sam follow him, "I'm Colby, this is Sam, and y/n."
You all shake hands and the guy sighs, "I'm Dean, these are my two sons, Riley and Luke. What all have you heard about this place?"
"Callum Hellreigel is a big name attached to this place, right? He was the one who caused all of the prostitutes to go missing?" Sam asks as he hands the camera to Colby.
Dean nods, "Yeah, in or around 1927, it was rumored that the reason he was killing these women, was for sacrifices, but people who have worked in the house swore up and down he didn't but who knows.." as Dean goes on explaining more about the manor, you suddenly feel a wave of dizziness was over you and you close your eye.
"No shit." Colby nods, "Do you know why he was doing that or .. anything?"
"Whoa. Hey, y/n." Sam moves to your other side and taps your arm, "You with us?"
You slowly open your eyes, "He doesn't like us talking about him." You can tell everyone around you tenses, "Sam once you said his name, I got dizzy."
"He likes you." Dean says wagging his finger at you, "He always likes the pretty ones."
Colby shifts towards you and you look over at him. He hands the camera to Sam and looks back up at Dean who sighs, "You might have the best of luck tonight, y/n."
"Great." You laugh slightly, "We also heard that it's hit or miss with how good or bad it can be."
Dean nods, "Oh yeah. Very much so. We've had people come in who didn't get anything but a few knocks and we've had people who were so overwhelmed within two hours they had to leave."
"That's crazy, dude." Sam says and looks at you and Colby. Colby shakes his head and laughs slightly, "Well we mean no harm, we just want to try and figure out if those old news articles were right."
"There's another figure in the window." You point to the same window and they all look up but it disappears.
"Are you talking about the far window on the right?" Dean slowly turns towards you and you nod, "Mhm."
He nods, "That's where his room is."
"Am I seeing him?" Your heart starts to race and Dean shrugs, "Very well could be." He nods towards the house, "Come on, we'll give you the tour."
"Are you okay?" Colby asks holding onto your arm. You nod, "This is going to be a very good video for you guys.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"You know. During the day it's not as scary." Sam says with a nervous laugh, "Right?"
One of Dean's sons laughs, "Wait for sundown."
"I don't wanna wait for sun down.. sun please stay up." Sam laughs along with the rest of you.
"Now this room is the room where he held about five woman at a time. They'd come in here and basically wait for their turn with Callum." Dean opens the door and you guys walk into a small room, "There was always a guard, or whatever you want to call them, in here with them at all times."
"Oh wow." You shake your head, "This is.." you look around, "They were scared." Right after you say that, there's a thud and you all look towards the door.
"that sounded like it came from downstairs." Sam whispers, and soon after there's another thud, but closer. Colby walks over and looks, "There's no one out here dude. That was so loud, though."
"I'd say they were more than scared, sweetheart." Dean walks over and lifts up the loose wallpaper, revealing names that were scratched into the wall behind it, "Even the guards would mistreat the women who were held here."
"And he never got caught? How many years did he do this for?" Colby asks slightly confused, "like no one ever thought of check on the missing women from the town that's right down over the hill?" He laughs and looks at Sam who nods, "Right like you'd think that."
As they talk, you think for few moments quietly before tilting your head, "When we walk in, I could have swore I heard a whisper and now that I see this.." you walk over and bend down, "It was definitely Izzie."
"No fucking way." Sam says and walks over, showing the wall to the camera, "so like right when you walked in it was like bam someone whispering Izzie?"
You stand up and look at him, "I swear to god. I thought maybe I brushed against something like my jacket did.." you scratch your jacket off the wall, "but no. It was clearly a whisper."
"Oh my god." Colby says dragging it out slightly, "This is crazy."
"There's two more rooms you need to see, one of them being the basement." Dean motions for you guys to follow him and you make your way to the master bedroom.
"So this is where he stayed most of the time?" Sam asks, "With these prostitutes or whatever?"
Dean nods, "Yep, yeah he basically lived in here and right.." he pauses and walks over to the window and points on the ground, "..over here. Is where he shot himself."
"So wait.." you point to the window and walk over, looking out with a gasp, "oh my god." You look out at the spot you stood in when you seen the apparition in the window.
"Correct." Dean says and turns, "He would bring the women in here one at a time, do what he promised them lots of money to do and then they'd just never leave."
"That's dark, man. Sad too." Colby frowns and shakes his head. Dean nods, "So the other girls caught on pretty quick as to what was happening."
"I can't imagine the fear that was brought onto them as they waited to just die basically." Sam looks around amd Dean points to you, "If you want to try contacting him. You'll probably have the best luck. Lay on the bed if you feel brave enough."
Your heart sinks, "Oh shit, I don't think-" you look at the door quickly, but whatever was there vanishes, "the door way. Someone is watching us."
You walk over, looking out but nothing else is there. You turn back towards them, camera on you, "It's really cold right here."
"You're the first to honestly say they saw something in this room." Dean says and you raise your eyebrows, "Really?"
"Does he move around a lot or does he mainly stay in this room?" Colby asks but jumps when there's footsteps in the hallway. You lean back and shake your head, "Nothing."
"I've had people come in and say there's many, many spirits here." Dean points, "but the one I get feedback on most on the time is the basement. Lots say it's the worst, and I'll show you why." He motions for you to follow him.
Sam cuts the camera off, "I think you may be right, y/n." You walk with him and Colby as you follow the others, "We definitely underestimated this place." You look between them and walks down the steps.
As you approach the slightly skinny basement door, Sam starts recording as Dean turns to you, "You might not like it down here." He looks the door and he reveals a, very unsettling, dark stair well.
You turn and give the camera a fake crying face, "Oh no."
"There are no lights, we did put lights in, but they must not like them, so you have to use flashlights so be careful coming down." Dean says and everyone pulls their phones out and switches the flash on.
Dean and his sons go down first and you and the boys follow, "Hold on, I just want to see how dark it is." Sam switches off the light and everyone covers their lights, "Oh fucking hell."
You immediately grab onto Colby's jacket and his hand immediately goes to the side of your leg, both keeping a hold of each other until Sam turns the light back on. Colby laughs, "that's the, you can't see your hand in front of your face dark."
"Now, keep that in mind because down here.." Dean pauses, "They only had candles for light down here I'm pretty sure.."
You reach the bottom and your heart feels like it's working overtime. You feel dizzy, grabbing onto the first thing you could, Colby's arm, to not fall back.
"Whoa." He wraps an arm around your waist and you nod, "Dean.. let me tell you something.." you laugh slightly and point at him.
He nods, "You don't like it down here do you?" You shake your head, "Not at all." Your eyes scan over what you can see of the old jail cells.
You felt pain and sadness, and just flat out awful.
"Down here, they kept at least twenty more women at a time, five to a cell." Riley points, "Right above the last cell over there, is where the five upstairs were, so that cell you could hear almost everything, because there's a vent, for whatever reason."
"Did they make that vent so they could hear the screams and shit on purpose or?" Sam asks looking over towards the cell.
Dean nods, "I mean, it's very possible because it's literally just a straight shot, so. I wouldn't have put it past him, he was-"
A bottle rolls down the steps and you close your eyes, "No, no, no." You laugh nervously, "There's no fucking way."
"Are you kidding me right now?" Sam turns to Colby, "We didn't even start the investigation yet and a fucking bottle.. rolls down the steps?"
Colby's eyes are wide and his mouth is open, "Did you catch that?" Sam nods, "then sound and then maybe the end of it coming down." He sighs, "Oh what the hell did we get ourselves into?"
"I don't know but I'm scared." You admit, "This isn't going to be easy." You say into the camera and Colby crosses his arms, "What would they do down here exactly? To these women that were just held here waiting?"
Dean shrugs, "All of it.. and right over there around the wall of the stairs." He points and walks you guys over, "He had the women who, in the words of what I read and was told, couldn't please him like he wanted, tortured for hours on hours I guess."
"What did they do with the bodies? Do you know if they buried them or.." Sam asks and Dean shifts around slightly, "I just got a chill, but um.."
"Wait you just got a chill?" Colby steps forward, "It doesn't feel any different to me so that's creepy."
Dean chuckles, "Yeah, so anyway.. it was rumored they tried to cremate them theirselves, but I don't think it worked out, but when we were trying to clear some stuff out around the house, there was a well that was discovered and it had human bones in it, but no one really knows what happened to them they just vanished one day and no one asked questions."
"So there is a lot of pent up negative energy surrounding this manor." One of the guys says, but you're not focused on who. You shake your head, "Some just want to be free." You look at Sam and Colby, "Something is keeping them here and I think I know who it is."
"Oh god." Sam yells and jumps forward, spinning around really quick, "Something just grabbed my shoulder, swear to god."
"You good, man?" Colby walks up to him, and Sam nods, "Yes, yes. That just scared the shit out of me. Like I was just standing here and it felt like someone did this to me. But lightly." He demonstrates by grabbing Colby's shoulder.
"That may happen a lot more when we leave." Dean says and motions with his light to go back up.
Once you make it back outside, he turns towards the house, "Just keep reminding them why you are here and that you're the ones in control."
"Will that actually work?" Sam looks at Dean and he nods, "It'll definitely work for him." He points to Colby and you smile as you remember someone else telling Colby he's intimidating.
"I have been told that I intimidate spirits so.. that's my house now." He makes his voice strained, "No, im kidding. He laughs and Dean shakes his head, "No that's exactly it. Show you're in control and you should be fine."
"Should be, that's not too selling there, Dean." Sam says and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "I mean, it works for me."
"Well, good luck and if you're still here, I'll see you in the morning."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
After getting the equipment from the car and talking for a little bit, it's almost dark so the three of you agree it's best to just start since you were already getting so much activity already.
"You good?" Colby asks as he sets up some stuff, getting it ready. You look up, "Yeah." You let out breathy laugh, "I'm nervous, but otherwise good."
"Oh shit." You hear Sam yell from outside, "No fucking way." You and Colby look at each other and run out, "What? what?" Colby asks going over to him.
You follow behind and he points, "I think I saw what you saw earlier, y/n. I turned the camera on but by the time I looked up, it was gone."
"Yeah, like it only wants you to see it, if it lets you." You run your hands over your face, "Okay so I think we should try and get something before we're basically chased out of here."
You come to regret saying those words, later on.
"Okay, yeah. So the living room area? See if we can get in touch with someone who worked here?" Colby says and Sam nods, "Let's do it."
As you walk up to the door, you turn around and look at Colby, "Did you just whistle?" He shakes his head, "No that wasn't me, was it you?" He points to Sam and he shakes his head, "No."
"There's a light whistle, but it sounded like it was right behind me." You close your eyes and shake your head, "Oh god."
"It's alright. Come on." Colby leads you into the living area and you stand over to the coffee table and set down the EMF, waiting for Sam and Colby to come in.
"Okay. Ill put a flashlight on the mantle here and-"
A loud knock cuts Sam off, "Did you hear that?" His eyes move between you and Colby and you both nod. He lets out a sigh, "Alright."
He starts rolling, "So we are here in the living room area of the Hellriegel Manor, and we've been hearing knocks.."
"A bottle rolled down the basement stairs, this place is absolutely insane already, but now we're here and we're going to start by asking some simple questions." Colby takes the camera from Sam so he can lay a flashlight on the mantle like he said, "We have just a regular flashlight here and then we have the EMF over there by y/n."
You switch it on and move away from it, "Do you want me to start?"
Immediately both the flashlight and the EMF lights up green. Sam and Colby both yell out, "Oh fuck dude."
You freeze, "Um. Okay. My name is y/n. I come with peace and just wanting to find out the truth about what happened here. Is there just one of you talking to us right now?"
You wait a few moments and as soon as you look at Colby it lights up red and the flashlight switches off.
Your eyes go wide as you look at Sam. His eyes search the floor as he thinks, "My name is Sam, I too come with peace, I just want to ask, are you trapped here?"
Colby moves the camera from the EMF to the flashlight, "Y/n. Repeat what Sam asked."
"Are you trapped here?" You ask and it's an immediate green light, no flashlight, "Am I speaking to one person now?"
Red light. Flashlight turns on making all of you gasp and yell. Colby shakes his head, "Dean was right, they must be drawn to her more than us."
Switches green and the flashlight stays on.
"That wasn't even a ques-" something falling from a shelf makes you jump and you bolt in between them, "Oh Jesus Christ."
"I'm Colby. I also come with peace. Was that you that just knocked that stuff over?" A few moments go by and nothing.
"If that was you, can you do it again, please?" You grip Colby's arm, "the hairs on the back of my neck just stood up." He looks down at you, "really?" You nod and Sam brings his hand up behind you, "It's literally only cold right here."
Suddenly you're pushed away from Colby, not hard, but enough to make you lean back.
"Did you just get pushed?" Colby asks, "You pulled me with you tha-"
What sounds like empty tin cans, hit the floor and roll, stopping in the entry way of the living room.
"Thank you." You say, "Am I speaking to the original owner of this house?" You let go of Colby and walk over to the doorway.
"Y/n, stay close please. This house is too un-" Colby gets cut off by the EMF lighting up red.
"Are you saying no to y/n's question?" Sam asks quickly and it flashes red. Your eyes go wide and you make your way back over to them, "Do you want me to stay close to Sam and Colby?"
Flashes red and the flash light turns on.
"Fuck me." You lay a hand on your face and the emf lifts up green.
"No." Colby says almost immediately, "You can't have her."
Flashes green and the flash light stays on.
You look at them, "I have to ask if it's him."
Flashes green again and the flash light goes off.
"Dude this is fucking wild, oh my god." Sam runs a hand through his hair, "Are you okay?" He looks at you and you nod, "Yeah, I'm good."
"I have a very important question for you." You move over and sit in the one chair, "Am I speaking to Callum Hellreigel?"
Lights up red and you feel kind of relieved until you see a shadow move on the stairs, "Fuck, the stairs. Something just went up."
"Are you going upstairs?" Colby asks and waits patiently. The EMF goes off and it's red, "Are you one of the women who were lured here and promised money?"
Lights up green.
"Is anyone else with you?" Sam asks and rests his hand against his chin.
Lights up green.
Just as Colby is getting ready to ask something you stand up, "Something just.." you point up and shake your head, "I just heard come on. Like something said come on."
"Is that you Callum? Are you trying to lure y/n up stairs?" Colby hands the camera back to Sam and looks over at you, no response.
"Okay, so they definitely move around." Sam sighs, "Fuck man. Y/n. How are you feeling?" You look over at them slowly, "Oh I'm great." You stand up, "Maybe we should move.."
"Where to next?" Sam asks and you walk over to them, "Upstairs. I don't think he killed himself."
They're both taken aback by what you said and Colby shakes his head, "Do you feel something towards that?"
You nod, "I have this.. uneasy feeling in my stomach and I get chills thinking about it. I don't think he shot himself."
The EMF reader lights up green and you jump slightly, "Fuck." Sam looks around, "Did you kill your self Callum?"
Nothing.
Colby repeats Sam's question exactly, nothing.
They both look at you, along with the camera and you take a deep breath and shake your head, "get the spirit box."
Sam stops recording, "That's a good idea. Where do you want to set up?"
Colby walks over to you and lays his hands on your arms, "You good to keep going?" You nod, "Yeah I need to find out what happened, I'm nosey." You laugh slightly and lean around to look at Sam, "Maybe top of the steps?"
He nods and you grab the equipment and look at the steps. Your eyes move up and down, getting a weird feeling about it, "Wait." You stop Sam and point to the floor at the bottom of the steps.
Colby starts recording and Sam sets it down, "let me just turn it on." He turns it on and a soft white noise fills the area.
Sam motions to you and you bite your lip, debating on which question to ask.
".. Up .."
"Yo, no." Sam covers his mouth and Colby laughs nervously, "No fucking way."
"Do you want us to go up the stairs?" You ask and chew on your nail.
".. Wall .. name.."
"Are you asking about the names on the wall in the room where the women were held?" Colby asks, "Did you whisper Izzie to y/n when we went in there earlier?"
A soft, 'y/n' is whispered behind you and you let out a slight yell, "Fuck, no. Someone just said my name."
"..Yes.."
"Callum was that you?" You close your eyes and shake it, letting out quiet, high toned "oh shit."
"Bed."
"Do you want us to go to the bedroom? Callum's room?" Colby asks rubbing his eyebrow and pulls you to him when you all clear as day hear,
"Just... her.."
"You can't have her." Sam says looking around, "You can't have any one anymore, do you hear me?"
".. Blood.. shed .."
"Doesn't mean blood shed, like bleeding or?" Colby asks Sam and he shakes his head, "I don't know, man."
"So scared."
"I know you're scared." You say and nothing else comes through.
"Why do you want y/n?" Colby asks moving the camera around, "Are you scared of us? I promise we mean no harm to any of you."
".. Pretty... girl .."
"do you guys feel okay?" You fan yourself, "I just got really hot all of a sudden." Colby hands the camera to Sam and feels your forehead, "You feel cold to me."
You're suddenly pushed backwards away from Colby's touch, "Fuck." He says pulling you over to Sam. He turns from recording the stairs, "What happened? What?"
Colby sighs, "She just got pushed again, dude."
"Maybe we should just go up." You close your eyes as Colby instantly disagrees, "Mm. No."
Sam cuts the camera off, "Colby. If she thinks she can-"
"We don't know what we're dealing with here, Sam. I'm not going to send her into a room alone." Colby argues.
".. Stop .."
"Stop what?" You ask and Sam turns the camera on, "So.. Colby felt y/n's head because she said she was hot and when he did that, y/n got pu-" a loud thud is heard from up stairs and Sam quickly turns the spirit box off and turns the camera to you guys, "Did you hear that?"
You nod, "Almost like.. a body falling onto the floor."
"That's what I was thinking." Coby says nodding.
Sam waits a few seconds more before picking up where he left off in a whisper, "So basically, whatever is here doesn't like us being close to y/n."
"Dean did say that she might be the target for tonight, just because of all the history with this place." Colby says.
"I think we should just do it because it's either his room or the basement and I'll tell you right now I'm not ready to go back down there yet." You chew on your cheek, "So let's just go up there and hit those rooms up there."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
There was a sudden decrease in activity in the other rooms but it quickly picked up when you moved back towards the bedroom.
"I think we should put the REM pod where Dean said he was shot." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yeah. That's good."
You have this feelings that something is watching you, and no it's not just Colby.
"Sam." Colby says, "You don't think.."
Sam stands up after checking the pod, "What?" Colby nods towards me, lowing his voice, "You don't think he's.. targeting her because of me do you?"
Sam glances at you and shrugs, "So you're admitting to liking her then?"
Colby sighs, "Yes, Sam. I'm admitting to it finally." He smiles but shakes his head, "That's not the point, how are we going to do this without any danger coming to her?"
"Why don't we just ask him?" You step forward, "You can be right outside the door."
Colby shakes his head, "No."
There's a loud bang and you jump, "Colbs. I got this. If anything happens, you'll be right outside." Sam starts rolling the camera, "So we are now in the room where Callum supposedly shot himself and y/n has decided to lay in Callum Hellreigel's very own bed. Alone."
Sam turns the camera to you, "How are you feeling?" You take a deep breath, "it is what it is right?" You shrug, but Colby didn't like that answer.
"I'll be fine." You hold two thumbs up and Sam points the camera at Colby, "Wanna tell them what we're doing?"
Colby clears his throat as he holds up the EMF, "We are going to set up y/n with the EMF as well, and she'll ask yes or no questions and hopefully we can get some answers.."
"Then we'll come back in after a little while and set up the spirit box, maybe catch something on that? I don't know how you guys feel about that.." Sam trails off and you nod, "Sounds good."
Colby's whole demeanor changed since you said you'll stay in the room by yourself. You keep looking at him, and he looks at you, but he has worry in his eyes.
"Alight so we're just going to put this in the corner here.." Sam says as he sets up the camera on the one stand, angled towards the bed and window.
Colby walks up to you, cupping your cheeks, "Anything, and I mean anything happens, yell, scream and we'll be here."
You nod, laying a hand on his, "I can handle this." You jump and Sam yells as something falls outside of the room, "What the fuck. That sounded like something massive."
"Shit." Colby says taking his hands away, "Sorry. Sorry." He holds his hands up and steps back from you. Your eyes move around the room as you make your way over to the bed, sitting criss cross, "See you soon."
"You're sure?" Sam asks one last time. You take a deep breath, "Yes." Colby's eyes are on you until Sam fully shuts the door, leaving you in the darkened silence, alone.
"Callum Hellriegel." You call out, "If you're here, can you go over and touch that little box that's on the floor for me?"
The red light flashes, indicating no on the EMF.
"Am I talking to someone else?" Your eyes scan around the room, taking slow deep breathes as you try to get used to the dark, no answer, "I should’ve stayed home." You joke quietly to yourself,  "Is this where you wanted me?"
Instant green light.
You chew on your cheek as a chill washes over your body, "Fuck." You rest your hands on your head, "Did you kill all those women, Callum?"
Instant green light and the REM pod goes off.
"Did you kill them because they couldn't please you?" You rest your hand on your cheek and jump slightly when the EMF goes red.
"Did you kill them beca-" The EMF flashes red over and over again, "Stop!" You say loudly and it's soon followed by a loud bang on the window.
"Holy fuck." You sigh and place a hand on your chest, "Do you want us to bring the spirit box in so you can talk?"
Instant green light.
"Callum Hellreigel.. did you kill your self?" Your eyes move from the REM pod to the EMF, waiting for something, "Did someone else do it?"
Instant green light.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay, okay. Was it someone who worked for you?"
Instant red light.
"Was it one of the prostitutes?"
Instant green light.
"Is there anyone else here?"
Instant green light and you suddenly feel like you're being choked. You try to yell out as loud as you can, "C-Colby!" You feel the pressure on your neck vanish and you start coughing as soon as the boys bust through the door.
Colby is right next to you, "What? What? Y/n. Talk to me."
You're gasping for air still as you try to comprehend what just happened.
Sam brings the camera over, almost dropping it when he sees the finger marks on your neck.
"Holy fuck- Colby." Sam moves your hair to show the camera, "Oh my god. Are you okay? Oh fuck."
Colby's eyes are glued to your neck, "Can you breathe? Are you okay?"
"I-I.." you clear your throat, rubbing your hand over the prints, "I believe.. I was talking to Callum, and then I asked if anyone else was here and it went to yes and then i just suddenly felt like I was being choked."
"What the fuck, okay let's just get out of this room, I don't.." Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I don't like this."
As you're gathering the equipment and getting ready to walk out, you're pushed into Sam causing him to stumble a step forward, "That wasn't me." You say quickly as he turns around, "are you okay?"
Colby shuts the door with a slam and sighs, "This is fucking insane.. I can't believe this happened."
"Did you hear that?" You look down the steps, "Something just moved into the living room."
Sam points the camera, the light shining down and there's nothing there, "What the fuck, what the fuck?!"
"Shh. Shh." You shush Sam and look around, "I thought I heard whispering."
Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's go outside, talk about what happened and then we can figure out what we wanna do."
Colby was just worried about getting you out without anymore damage.
You make your way outside, camera still rolling, bending down to the ground, "Oh my god."
"Okay. So y/n.. she got attacked basically and we're trying to figure out why. She's okay. She's okay.. it's just.. " Sam keeps the camera off of you until you stand back up, "Fuck."
"So." You walk over to them, using your hand to hide your neck from the camera, "As soon as you guys left, it was.. weird, it was fucking weird." You laugh slightly and shake your head, "I asked if it was him. Said no. Then I asked if it was someone else, no answer and then I asked if I was where they wanted me and that was an instant green light."
"What if.. what if it's not Callum?" Colby looks between you and Sam and Sam gasps, "One of the women?"
You hold your hand up, "Oh just wait. So then I asked if he killed all those women. Instant green light. I then asked if it was because they couldn't please him and it said no."
"Wait, y/n.. Did you tell stop at one point?" Sam asks and you nod, "The red light kept flashing over and over, so then I told it to stop and then it sounded like something hit the window. Hard. It was loud."
"Wait what?" Colby looks to Sam, "Did you hear anything?" Sam shakes his head, "I thought I heard her yell stop but it was much quieter than she says she yelled."
"Do you think.. wait.." Colby looks at you, "Izzie. That's what was whispered to you right?" You nod and he shrugs, "What if she killed him?"
"That's actually something that very well could have happened.. He favorited her maybe and she developed this jealously? Oh my god, the story just keeps unraveling." Sam points the camera back to you and you continue, "I asked if they wanted us to bring the sprit box in and it said yes. It also said yes to me asking if someone else killed him.." you look between them, "..and to if it was one of the prositutes."
"Yo, no. Are you fucking serious!?" Sam's mouth drops, "Is said yes to that?"
You nod, "Sure did."
"Izzie probably is intimidated by you." Colby says, "I think we have this all wrong." You run your hand over your head, "Mhm. But it was like not even a second after the light went green I felt this pressure around my neck and I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure if you guys heard me calling."
"I heard you scream Colby, a lot louder than when you yelled stop." Sam shakes his head, "If I would have known we would have came in.." he looks at Colby, "They said about the spirit box.."
Colby shakes his head and looks at you as Sam moves the camera onto you, "I think we should just take a break, give them time to settle, if they will." You suggest and Sam nods, "That's a good idea."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The whole time you guys took a break, Colby hasn't left your side as you guys discussed and agreed on what you were doing.
He found himself glancing at your neck every so often, wondering if him putting up more of a fight would have kept you safe.
"Colby.." you whisper, "Colbs." You finally get his attention, "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Not your fault. I chose to go in there." You lay a hand on his cheek, "Okay?"
He nods, not really convincing you but you go with it as Sam walks over, "Are you ready?" He looks at you and you nod, taking Colby's hand in yours, "Yeah. We're ready."
"Anything else happens and I'm throwing you over my shoulder and taking you out of there myself." He whispers low into your ear as sam walks towards the house.
You smile slightly, "Don't threaten me with a good time."
He keeps his arm around you until you reach the front door. He walks in but you stop, staring up the steps, "Sam. Don't move."
Colby looks between you, Sam and the steps, "What?" He whispers quietly and you point slightly, "There's a woman.." you raise your voice, "Izzie?"
The figure you see turns from the top of the steps and goes into Callum's room.
"We need to do the spirit box."
You make your way up to the room and Colby walks in first. Then you, then Sam. The REM pod gets put on the floor, and turned on. Sam backs away from it and you take a deep breath.
"We mean no harm to anyone that is here." You say and look around, "Izzie. If you were the one that choked me, can you touch that box on the floor over by the window?"
You close your eyes as soon as it lights up.
"Fucking shit dude." Sam says pointing the camera to you. You open your eyes and step towards the bed, "Did you get jealous of the other girls? Make that light up for me if you were."
You look over at Sam and Colby, who are whispering stuff to each other, and back to the pod as it lights up.
"one more time if you want us to turn on the spirit box." You run a hand through your hair and turn back to them as it lights up a few times in a row.
Colby takes the camera and Sam grabs the box, walking over and setting it on the window sill, "You will be able to talk to us using this box here."
Colby moves over closer to you and Sam and as soon as Sam flips it on, "Why did you choke y/n?"
".. doesn't... belong.."
"She doesn't belong here in general or doesn't belong to Callum?" Colby continues and you chew on your nail as you wait patiently.
".. not.. his..."
"Can you tell us who isn't his? Are you talking about Callum?" Sam interjects, "Y/n doesn't belong to Callum."
"..Mine.. my doing.."
"Are we talking to Izzie or Callum?" You rest your hand on your cheek, "Can you please tell me who we are talking to?"
".. Colby.." 
"What the hell?" Colby groans and laughs slightly, "Can you tell me who I'm talking to?" He asks giving the camera to Sam, "I'm right here."
".. not.. yours.."
You look at Sam then go to Colby.
"..out.. out.. Izzie.."
"Did you kill Callum, Izzie?" Sam asks, "Was it you who shot him in front of the window?"
" .. y/n.. stay .."
You let out a quick scream as something grabs your arm, "No. I'm not staying. You cannot have me." The same bang on the window that happened while you were alone, happens again.
Colby aims the camera to the window, "fuck, what was th-"
".. keep her safe .."
"We are keeping her safe." Colby says as he pulls you in between him and Sam, "Do not touch her. Do not touch us."
You look around, "Shit." You jump, "Izzie. Leave."
" .. Sam .. "
"Okay no. No that's.. no.." Sam laughs nervously, "Do you want us to leave?"
" .. Colby ... and Sam .. "
"Alright we're done." Colby hands the camera back to Sam and turns off the box, "I don't think Callum is a demon. I think Izzie has some jealousy to figure out and she won't be doing that with you." He looks at you and you nod, "Fine."
"That was fucking insane, dude. What the actual fuck was that?" Sam shakes his head, unable to comprehend what just happened.
You hear another whisper as you turn towards the door, "did you hear that?" Sam and Colby stop talking and go quiet as they listen.
You turn towards them, "Please don't go is what I just heard.."
"We're going." Sam and Colby say in unison which makes you all kinda laugh, fear still in overdrive. You spin in a slow circle, "Whatever is in this room, this house, who ever you are, you cannot follow us out of this house. You cannot follow us home. You can not come with us."
As Sam bends down to pick up the REM, Colby lays his hand on your back but you wince and gasp, "What the fuck?"
"What?" Colby asks looking over you, "What happened?"
"Lift my shirt." You turn back around and Sam comes over with the camera, the light on top shining onto your back.
Colby slides your shirt up, "We're done. That's two fucking scratches l, Sam." He looks at Sam and you turn around, "Two?!"
As soon as you stand all the way up, you get dizzy and stumble back slightly into the wall. You suddenly feel like your emotions aren't yours anymore and you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
Flashes of a woman in a long dress and a man undressing her appear in your mind. 
She's screaming. Crying. There's two more guys, but they're standing in the corners, watching it happen.
You feel like you're seeing someone else's vision until everything goes black and you start to regain the imagine of Colby and Sam standing in front of you.
"Y/n.. hey." You hear Colby say as he shakes you gently, "Y/n. Hey where'd you go?"
Your head snaps up to him, "What?" You look around, shaking your head, "I don't.. what just.."
"You weren't you." Sam says, "You went back into the wall and then you were in a stare, Colby tried for like two minutes to get you to look up."
"We.." your chest rises and falls quickly, "I'm so scared right now." A loud thump on the wall behind you rattles the room and you high tail it out of there.
Down the steps and out the door as Sam and Colby follow you.
"Y/n. Hey, hey wait." Colby yells, "Y/n." He walks up to you and takes you into his arms. You freak out for a second until you realize it's him and you let your body fall into his.
"Is she okay?" Sam asks running up, "What the fuck just happened?"
Colby shrugs, "I have no idea. But I see why they don't just let anyone in here."
He looks down at you, arms still tightly around you, "Hey. You're okay. I got you." You tilt your head up, slowly looking back at the building.
You let out a slight laugh, "Did I.. just.. did I just get possessed or something?"
They're both looking at you worried, "I saw a woman.. screaming as a man was taking off her dress and two other men in the corners were watching.. I don't.. was that.."
"We don't have an answer for that, but what I do know is that we're getting far from this place as possible." Colby lets you go as you stand up straight.
You look at Colby and point your finger at him, "Remember what I said to you last night, about us probably having been through worse?"
Colby nods as his hands move up and down your arm.
"Well, this is worse." You laugh anxiously, tears welling up into your eyes again, "What the fuck was that?"
"We're going home. It's okay." Colby wraps his arms around you, "Sam, can you drive home?" Sam yells out a quick 'yeah' as he packs the trunk back up.
"Come on. We're going home."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Thinking of maybe doing a part 2? Not sure yet, maybe like the aftermath of the Hellriegel Manor?
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months
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FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4
(König x F!Reader)
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Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^
AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…
The end of the world is here.
Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.
Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it. 
Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?  
. . .
The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.
She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.
“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits. 
“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”
She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.
“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.
“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.
“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”
“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong. 
Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.
The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch. 
You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.
“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.
“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”
. . .
You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.
You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.
You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.
That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.
Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.
That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.
And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...
He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.
Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius. 
A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight. 
Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud. 
Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child. 
Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader. 
Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air. 
Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you. 
You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream. 
And he turns. 
Death turns.
Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.
The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from. 
The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.
You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–
No.
No.
You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.
You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.
He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart. 
You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.
“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him. 
The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast. 
He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual. 
But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.
. . . 
You are brought to his tent, screaming. 
It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.
The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock. 
Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.
You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.
He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…
You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood. 
It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot. 
The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should. 
You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle. 
The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.
“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.
“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.
“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.
“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.
Because there have been many omens in the air lately. 
It’s just that none of them were portents of war. 
The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless. 
All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.
“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…
“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.
“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.
“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you. 
And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?
He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself. 
The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself. 
Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.
“Müde?” 
He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up. 
To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.
His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know. 
The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.
“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen. 
This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.
Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.
He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good… 
You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.
Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.
Translations
Nein, warte - No, wait
Schön - Beautiful 
Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy
Sie redet - She talks
Du? - You?
Müde? - Tired?
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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hi mei! i absolutely love your stories! you’re a really great writer 🥰
i was wondering if u’d be interested in doing a hotch drabble about him with a s/o who seems really intimidating but is actually really soft and sweet?
like maybe it’s her appearance that makes the team intimidated by her—edgy clothing and dark makeup and stuff—when she shows up to hang out with hotch on his lunch breaks. and she’s like ‘i feel like your team doesn’t like me :(‘ and he’s like ‘honey, they’re borderline scared of you’ but it’s fluffy.
if you don’t wanna that’s totally okay! i did a bad job explaining but i’m sure you’d do an amazing job :)
love ya!! hope ur having a good day
Aaron loves when you visit him at the office for lunch, but you don't look like you're in high spirits yourself. When you sit down its with a huff and a hiss of the chair accommodating your weight, only adding to your dramatics.
"This might be my career in profiling speaking," Aaron begins, his voice soft in case something is terribly wrong, "But something tells me you're not having a good day, sweetheart."
"You're good," You tease him, and he wishes you could laugh about it together, "Aaron, I think Doctor Reid is afraid of me."
Aaron has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Doctor Reid is afraid of buffets, he thinks, but it's not an abundance of germs that unnerves Spencer about you, it's- well, it's everything he knows about you.
"Honey," Aaron calls upon that sweet tone again, "He doesn't know you very well."
"You didn't deny it!" You groan, falling back into your chair and abandoning your soup on his desk, "I knew it. What did I do?"
Aaron looks into your eyes, black-lined and sharp. He watches you chew on your cheek, your black-stained lips moved by the nervous quirk. Below your tense jaw is a chain that rests against your neck, not a full choker but not loose, either. It nearly disappears into the hem of your jacket, black leather that falls over a rather graphic old band tee.
"It's not what you've done," Aaron explains tentatively, "It's probably- well, how you look."
Your nose scrunches, and Aaron marvels the fact that you seem to have forgotten your appearance, "How do I look?"
"Like a doberman pinscher in human form," Aaron bites off a corner of his sandwich, chewing it in lieu of pressing the matter further.
"I like dobermans." You supply weakly, "Why is he afraid of me?"
"You're just not what he's used to," Aaron sighs, swallowing his mouthful and leaning across the desk, hand outstretched, "He probably thinks you could dismember him with those nails."
You place your palm in Aaron's own, and he flips your hand around to showcase the rather impressively sharp acrylics you're sporting.
"And your boots are heavier than he is, I guarantee it," Aaron nods down at your thick-soled black boots, ones that give away your entrance from a mile away by the sound of their rubber hitting the ground.
"He's just..." Aaron searches for the right word, trying not to disparage you or Reid, "Skittish. You should talk to him, though, honey. He likes science, and literature, and Star Trek. Pick something from one of those categories, and I promise he'll never stop talking to you for the rest of your life."
You're mostly satisfied, but you let your hand rest in Aaron's for a moment longer, and he'd be a fool to drop it.
"Am I scary, Aaron?" You ask earnestly, and his smile is warm as he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss at your knuckles.
"Not to me. And not to anyone who knows you," He promises, "But... it is nice to not have to worry about carrying a gun when we go out together."
"Aaron!" You laugh, "I'm not a weapon!"
"You could be!" Aaron insists, tugging your hand over to his lunch and dragging your fingernail across his sandwich, "Here, honey, cut it for me, would you? They forgot to give us knives."
"Stop!" You insist, but your laughter gives you away as you turn back to your soup with burning cheeks, "Just you wait, Aaron. As soon as Penelope stops running whenever I enter a room, we're gonna talk shit about you for this."
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i-am-aprl · 1 month
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You can’t kill their spirit ✊🏻❤️‍🩹Beautiful smile 🥲♥️❤️‍🩹 “There is no PaIèstinian house without cakes,” said Ahlam Saleh, who is forcibly disp\/laced herself. “The atmosphere of Eid existed before the war, and there is no joy now for Eid in light of the w\/ar.”⁠
.⁠
Inside tents where forcibly displaced Pales\/\/tinians are sheltering in Deir el-Balah, in the centre of the #Ga\/za Strip, a group of women are making traditional cakes for the upcoming #Eid holiday using supplies provided by charity organisations.⁠
.⁠
Despite the grim reality of the w\/ar, Ahlam said that through this initiative the group is “trying to create an atmosphere of Eid joy for children”.⁠
.⁠
Ahlam has lost multiple family members in the last six months of Israeli attacks, including children, cousins, an uncle and her brother-in-law. Several of her neighbours have also been kil\/led.⁠
.⁠
“I will miss a lot of people on the night of Eid,” she lamented.⁠
.⁠
Forcibly displaced children in Deir el-Balah said they appreciated the women’s efforts.⁠
.⁠
“They were trying to make us happy in school by creating [a holiday] atmosphere for the month of Ramadan and Eid,” said Rama Kassab, a young girl living in a makeshift shelter.⁠’”Source | @aljazeeraenglish
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iikatsukii · 1 year
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Too Late.
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synopsis: they loved you when it was too late. 
pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! Reader, jake x daughter!reader
warnings: mentions of death, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts(?), swearing, familial issues. 
word count: 3.6k
a/n: would yall believe me if i said i wrote this while listening to pussy talk by city girls LMFAOOOOO p.s. Happy valentines day (THE RED TEXT IS "FESTIVE" im trynna get into the valentines day spirit :D). I wish i could've given yall part two of illicit love instead of this but i'm not done with it </3. ALMOST THO!!! (gif creds: @world-of-pandora)
(p.s. part two is out now!!)
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it was never supposed to end like this. jake's mouth felt bitter. his whole body shook as he let out the most heart-stopping scream when his eyes landed on his eldest daughter. you, neteyam's twin, lay lifeless in his arms. your father cried because he never got to tell you he was proud of you, or that he loved you, or that you didn't need to compare to your brother to still be considered his baby girl. 
it wasn't always like this, though. 
you and neteyam were always happy and playing around together when you were younger. still, as you two grew older, neteyam took on olo'eyktan training and became his father's perfect warrior. where does that leave you? mo'at had chosen kiri to pursue tsahik training because of her apparent connection to eywa. so where does that leave you? lo'ak took on the role of the troublemaker, and tuk, of course, is just the baby of the family. so where does that leave you?
you're lo'ak's babysitter. making sure the boy doesn't get into trouble, but with your lack of training due to your father training your brother more than you, you weren't really the best babysitter. honestly, it was more lo'ak protecting than you protecting him. he kept you from losing balance while in high places, saved you when you fell into the rapids and flew you home when you forgot your way as if you had not lived in this forest your whole life. 
you felt like a burden on your family. 
nothing you ever did was right. 
you went hunting? cool, but you didn't bring back enough for the whole family, so now neteyam and lo'ak have to go out and find more food for everyone else. 
you bead a necklace for your friend? great, but you messed up the pattern she asked for, so she brought it to kiri so she could remake it.
tuk wanted to go play with you? of course! but now she has a sprained ankle from falling into the river while you were looking at flowers a few feet away.
and every time, somehow, some way, your family always managed to say something that felt like a blade stabbed through your heart.
"next time, y/n, just leave the hunting to neteyam and i. at least we know the right amount to bring back." it was lo'ak before he and your twin had to go hunting for more food for dinner a few weeks ago.
"you know, sister, your jewelry hasn't been the same recently. i've had sooo many of your friends coming back to me saying you messed up the pattern they asked for. just try and pay more attention when you're beading." kiri said as you walked into your home. she was re-beading the necklace you gave to your best friend yesterday. 
the one she told you was perfect and that she loved it.
"how could you leave your sister unattended like that y/n she could've been killed?! why can't you be like neteyam? you’re twins, for crying out loud, y/n. do you not care for your sister's well-being?" your father scolded you outside your grandmother's hut. you could hear her cries inside the tent, along with your mother's gentle words of comfort, as she tried to calm her youngest daughter down. 
you were being compared to your twin for the millionth time in your life, and as used to this as you should be, it still hurt just as bad as the first time your father had said it. 
"she only sprained her ankle. it was an accident sempu–" you tried to defend yourself, but you were cut off. 
"NO. it is, sir. do you understand me?" jake yelled at you. in your 18 years, your father had never raised his voice at you, let alone for you calling him 'sempu.' he used to love it when you called him because you were his ite and he was your sempu. but right now, to him, you were just someone who had hurt his child and nothing more than that. you hang your head, eyes falling to the floor in front of you as you didn't want your father to see you cry. 
"sorry, sir." was all you said before walking away. you don't know where you walked, but you found yourself at the abandoned shack. you knew this area was forbidden, so when you realized where you were, you immediately crouched. you were just gonna walk back because your father would kill you if he found out you were over here, but then you heard voices. you looked through the bush to see a group of 3 or 4 avatars. you knew you couldn't escape now, so you pressed on the collar of your neck.
"sempu– sorry. sir, i need help, i wasn't paying attention to where i was walking, and i can hear avatars speaking english and–" your father cut you off.
"where are you?" he, your mother, and your two brothers were patrolling around your land's territories when they heard you through their earpieces. 
you let out a heavy sigh, praying to eywa that he wouldn't chew your ass up for being here, before pressing the button again and saying, 
"i'm at the abandoned shac–AHH! OWW, LET GO, YOU ASSHOLE!!" you couldn't finish as one of the avatars found your hiding spot, grabbing you by your queue.
thankfully your family had heard enough. your twin telling his father he knew a shortcut, they all flew as fast as they could to you. honestly, this was their last straw. everyone was fed up with you constantly making things hard for everyone.
your mother, though, was worried. you were caught by those skydemons all by yourself. who knew what they would do to you?
as you waited for your family, you were roughly held by your queue as they poked and prodded at you like they had never seen a native before. 
"let me see your hands." the man with a buzzcut spoke. 
"why don't you look at my feet instead?" you said. they all gave you a confused look until you kicked quaritch right in his face. you don't know how, but it caused the avatar behind you to loosen his grip, so you tried to make a break for it.
unluckily for you, the female avatar grabbed your arm, pulling you back into her form. she gripped you by your neck, unaware that she had pressed the button on your communicator. you hissed at her. the man you had kicked was only laughing as he wiped the blood dripping from his nose. "she must be one of his. she's defiant. grab her hands, let me see." he said
the avatar behind you grabbed your hands, holding them both out. 
"hm… four fingers. maybe she's not one of his." were they gonna let you go? wishful thinking.
"fine. she may not be one of his but if one of their people go missing they're bound to come for her. keep her." his words made your heart sank. were they gonna take you? away from everything? your home? your family? if you could even call it that. 
but then you thought about it. you really can't call it that. you don't remember the last happy memory you had with someone, anyone, in your family. it clicked to you that it had been about 10 minutes since you had radioed your father, and he wasn't here yet. were they even coming for you? you knew it was a stupid question. they weren't coming for you. why would they when this was the easiest way to get rid of the weak link of the family? it's not like your blood would be on their hands, and their life would be way better without you.
"they're not gonna come for me. i have no family. you killed my family in the last war, you dickhead." you lied to the man you had kicked earlier. 
hearing you say this confused your family. what were you talking about?
"dammit you're an orphan? i didn't know the na'vi had any of those. then what do we do with her. she's useless. nobody will notice she's gone." the woman behind you asked her superior. 
"hmm.. i have a better idea. kill her. use her as a warning to the sullys. this is what we're capable of now. it'll be a threat. give us jake sully and nobody else will die. but this one… this one is our lab rat. we're gonna make you bleed out nice and slow little one." he said as he grabbed his pistol off his waist, pressing it below your jaw. the nickname made you internally gag, but you held your ground. 
these people had no real idea how tired you really were. you were exhausted. you were ready for life with eywa. you wanted your deity to hold you close, keep you warm, and protect you from the harsh real world. the world that your parents didn't adequately prepare you for. the world that you were ready to leave. 
"kill me," you said as you grabbed quaritch's wrist and moved his gun from under your jaw to right above your heart. "and make it quick. nobody will come for me anyways," you said in a monotone voice.
the avatars all looked at you in awe. they had never once seen a na'vi so willing to give up their life. the natives they had all met were vicious, hissing and armed, always ready to kill. but you. you were the opposite.
you were fed up and ready to die. but not for your people. for your own inner peace. 
"no," quaritch said, putting his gun down. that shocked everyone. like he shocked his soldiers and your family, who had been listening the whole time. they were trying to get to you as fast as possible.
hearing how you really felt was a wake-up call for your family. and when they heard bullets moving within the chamber of quaritch's pistol, they all flew their ikrans as fast as possible, weaving through trees and around mountains, trying to get to you.
you looked at the man like he had just betrayed you. 
"DO IT, YOU COWARD! FUCKING DO IT! NOBODY WILL COME FOR ME!! THEY DON'T CARE!! THEY DON'T FUCKING CARE!!" you don't know what came over you, but you tried to wrestle quaritch's pistol out of his hands. your family was only 2 clicks away and could hear you struggling. everyone landed at the same time. the sullys, excluding tuk and kiri, who had stayed with mo'at, caught quaritch's attention, which distracted him enough for you to pull the gun from his grip. 
you distanced yourself from everyone, and looking around, you realized you were surrounded by everyone. your family and these random avatar people. everyone could read you. you were a ticking time bomb and the only person in control of the trigger was you. one of the avatars took a step forward slowly, but you saw him move and point the gun at him. it didn't stop him from moving, but you heard screams of protest when you pointed the gun at your own head. that's when everyone froze. the avatars. your family. nature. time. eywa. you. everything was frozen.
"babygirl…" the nickname made you snap your neck to the man who was the root of your problems. 
"NO! no, you do not get to call me that. if i can't call you ma sempu, don't bother referring to me as your daughter." you said. your energy was depleted, and you knew you would only be able to stand here for a couple more minutes before you opened your own doors and walked to your great-mother. jake tried to take a step closer to you, which only caused you to tense up and pull on the trigger a little bit. everyone immediately backed up, your mother hissing at you through her tears. "MA ITE, PUT THE GUN DOWN," she screamed at you.
"sa'nok…" you whimpered, not even being able to look her in the eyes. 
"sa'nu… i can't" you sobbed. you could barely breathe and your tears were coming down in waterfalls at this point. you couldn't see anything clearly. your tears had blurred your vision. 
you knew your mom loved you. she and tuk were the only ones in the family who had never uttered a harsh word in your direction. though she was busy taking care of tuk, so it wasn't like you got much attention from them either. but there's no way you would blame her or tuk for that. if anything, you're sorry that you have to leave them, but this world isn't for you. you turned on your heels, looking at the man whose gun you took.
"you are a coward. you should've pulled the goddamn trigger. you're fucking pathetic. are you happy now? now everyone here gets to experience what they've waited so long for." nobody had ever heard you speak to anyone like that. honestly, they couldn't tell if your words were directed at quaritch or yourself. 
you inhaled, looking up at the eclipse, your bioluminescent freckles glowing brighter than they ever had in the nighttime as tears cascaded down your face. 
"goodbye," you said as you squeezed the trigger, hearing a loud bang and tons of screaming. you felt no pain, though. you opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them, and looked around. you noticed your pistol was stuck in the tree in front of you with an arrow clean through it. you turned to your twin with hate in your eyes. he lowered his bow as he read your expression. 
"now you wanna save me?" your voice was weak but filled with venom. 
"why didn't you save me when you noticed i stopped hanging out with you guys? hm? why didn't you teach me when i was younger? huh? why didn't you talk to me other than when you were chewing my ass out for something that was A FUCKING ACCIDENT, GODAMMIT. WHY?!" you felt like your tears were endless. 
"WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME?! ANSWER ME YOU FUCKERS!! WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!" you screamed your frustrations at your father and brothers. none of them could look you in your eyes, save for your mother. "you only want to save me because you know how much i don't want to be saved anymore but it's too goddamn late," you said.
you turned to the female avatar who was holding you from before. you noticed her gun earlier and hoped you looked threatening enough for her to use it as you ran in her direction. she didn't know what to do. she didn't know you were a barely trained warrior or that you wouldn't have put a scratch on her. she didn't know you were harmless. all she knew was that you were a native, and the natives were hostile. 
so she pulled her gun out and fired two shots into your chest.
the momentum of the bullet was enough to stop you from running. you felt the searing pain start to blossom in your chest area. falling to your knees, your eyes met the woman who had shot you. you looked at her shirt, reading her name. it was a funny name to you, but you didn't care. she had fulfilled your wish without even knowing it. so you used your last breath to speak.
"thank you, z-dog" you slumped over on your side, as everything started to go slow. your vision was starting to darken, and you let it consume you, not wanting to fight for your life anymore. 
cue the screams and cries from your family and the fleeing steps of the rda soldiers. your chest stopped rising and falling, and your breathing had ceased. your family surrounded your body, trying to stop your bleeding and preserve the life that had already left your body. still, you had been shot twice, and both bullets had exit wounds. it was no use. nearby, na'vi had heard the screams of distress and had called over some hunters and scouts to investigate the scene since they knew the area was near the forbidden old shack.
the hunters and scouts arrived at the scene armed and ready to defend their people, but what they were met with was the last thing they expected to see. the eldest sully daughter was lying on the floor, motionless, with two bullet holes in her chest and her blood sinking into the forest floor. her family leaned over her body, screaming and crying for her to be okay and to return to them. they whispered how sorry they were. they whispered to her how if she came back, they would treat her right, teach her, hang out with her, and love her like they were supposed to. but it's too late.
nobody knew how to react. the eldest sully daughter had died, and nobody but her family knew what had happened. 
“ma ite, oel ngati kameie. i see you. i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. you don't have to be your brother. being you was just fine." your father cried as he cradled your head. brushing your hair away from your face, getting blood on your cheek since his hands were covered in it. 
neteyam and lo'ak were each holding one of your hands. they cried as they watched their tears pool in your palm and then fall off the edge to drip into the soil below your body. they couldn't believe they treated you like anything less than their sister. they treated you like you were a stranger, a burden to deal with. and now that you were gone, they could not tell you how sorry they were for how they treated you.
neytiri was inconsolable. her firstborn daughter had just died in front of her eyes. willingly. she wanted this. her own daughter wanted to take her life. and she couldn't do anything to stop it. how could she not know? how did you go 18 years hurting in silence? how did she not know you needed to be saved? 
"ma ite. my baby. ma y/n." neytiri's heart shattered when she saw those bullets go through your chest. she cried over your body for what felt like hours, but it was only a few minutes until the male healers came so they could carry you to the healing tents to prepare you for your burial ritual. 
as jake pulled his mate from your body, she started to push against him trying to get him to let go of her so she could return to her daughter. 
eventually, jake lets go, unable to keep his mate from her child. he joined her and just asked the healers to give your family a minute with you. 
they just nodded in understanding, leaving your family to grieve. 
two pairs of footsteps rushed towards the clearing, where the family mourned one of their own. 
kiri and tuk had heard the news and came as fast as they could. tuk screamed, running up to you and curling herself into your chest as she sobbed into your neck. she didn't care if she was getting blood all over herself. you were her older sister, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. she felt nothing but sadness and loss. tuk felt terrible because the last time she had seen you was earlier when you brought her back from the stream because she had sprained your ankle. and now you were lying on the forest floor dead? how did this happen?
"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! SISTER, PLEASE!!" kiri begged you to wake up as she placed herself where her father was earlier. she rested your head in her lap, looking into your lifeless yellow eyes. you were her elder sister. as much as you didn't know, kiri looked up to you. she knew how hard you tried for the family, and though it wasn't your fault that you would mess up a necklace every once and a while, she couldn't help but feel guilty for the words she said to you in those moments. she knew she could've should've been nicer about it. 
when it was finally time for the healers to take your body, once again, neytiri tried to fight against them. this time everyone in the family had to hold her back as the healer walked you away in a leaf big enough to cover your entire body from the eyes of those around you. once you were gone from her view, neytiri fell to the floor again, sobbing into the ground, 
"GREAT MOTHER, WHY?!!" their mother's screams felt like a knife in their hearts. the sully family felt nothing but guilt and grief upon your death. nobody got closure because there is no closure for this kind of thing. they were the reason you wanted to die, and now that you got what you wanted, they had to live with that guilt. 
you were high in being held in eywa's embrace as you cried. looking down on your family. you did not regret your decision, but you just had one question for your deity. 
"did they really love me, great mother." eywa heaved a sigh before answering you. 
"my ite, your mother and youngest sister loved you everyday, they were just very poor at showing it i'm afraid." you nodded your head, asking a follow-up question, 
"what about the others?" you knew by her face that you wouldn't like the answer, but it was too late. the question was asked. and the answer is precisely the reason why you did what you did.
"they loved you just a little bit too late, my child."
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nhlclover · 2 months
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she's not afraid | luke hughes
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word count: 2.11k
summary: luke, captivated by your vibrant spirit, finds himself torn between his deep feelings for you and the fear of settling for casual flings
warnings: angst, swearing, brief nsfw content (nothing explicit), happy ending :)
notes: based on 'she's not afraid' by one direction. underrated song tbh
Luke was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
Across the bar, your smile lit up the room, laughing at something that Jack was telling you. You were a beacon of light in any room you walked into, your laugh capable of melting even the coldest of hearts. You exuded an infectious enthusiasm for life that drew others to you effortlessly, Luke included.
Your paths crossed often as you found yourselves frequenting the same bars. The first time you met, Luke was drawn in by your vibrant spirit. He was constantly amazed at the way you were seemingly not afraid of anything, as well as your endless enthusiasm for even the most mundane things.
You, on the other hand, admire the youngest Hughes brother. His kindness towards others has you weak in the knees, and his easy charisma and charming smile captivated you from the minute you saw him.
The connection you two had was intense, yet complicated. Despite Luke’s deep feelings and the very obvious chemistry that fizzed between you, there was a barrier. A wall put up around your heart.
You were a free spirit, not one known to be bound by the constraints of a relationship. And the thought of settling down with someone scared you. Every time Luke brought up the two of you potentially being something more, you backed off. You kept an arm's length between you and Luke.
Despite your differences, you couldn’t stay away from each other. Your nights were filled with laughter, stolen glances, and heated encounters that left you both breathless. However, as the days went on, your tryst continuing, Luke found himself yearning for something more, something beyond the fleeting moments you shared.
Catching his eye across the room, you made your way through the crowd to him, apologizing to the bodies you bumped in the crowd. “Dance with me.” You grin, taking his hand in yours.
Luke chuckles, shaking his head. “Not happening.”
“Oh come on.” You groan, pulling him towards the dancefloor. “No one is even watching.”
That wasn’t true. His brother, his captain, and almost all his teammates were watching the bubbly Jersey girl they’d grown to know attempt to get the human equivalent of bambi on ice that was Luke Hughes to dance in public. You pulled him straight to the middle of the crowd, letting the music find you.
You moved with grace and abandon, your movements fluid and carefree. Everything you did was somehow graceful yet carefree. You didn’t think, you just did. He envied your reckless abandon. You didn’t care that others were staring, you weren’t afraid to be unabashedly yourself. Luke, on the other hand, felt like a puppet with tangled strings, his limbs stiff and awkward. He could feel the eyes on him, he could hear his teammates laughing.
You shook your head at his uncoordinated attempts at dancing, the self-consciousness seeping off of him. “You’re too stiff… relax.” You say, bringing your lips to his ear. “I know you can move your hips.”
Luke admired you as you threw your head back, laughing at your subliminal comment. With your guidance, Luke attempted to loosen up, to let the music wash over him and carry him away just as it had done to you. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move in time with the rhythm, his movements becoming less rigid with each passing moment.
“There it is.” You grin. Your arms snake around his shoulders, his hands settling on your waist.
You found a rhythm, swaying together. The world around Luke seemed to fade away, finally enjoying the moment as he got caught up in your infectious joy.
Despite his enjoyment, Luke could only dance for one song before his teammates reminded him of their presence with their hollers and whistles.
“Way to go, Lukey boy!”
“Okay, Don Juan!”
You returned to your table, flushed with excitement. "You know, Luke, you're not so bad on the dance floor after all."
Luke grinned, feeling a surge of affection. Before he knows it, Luke is paying your tabs, getting ready to leave with you. It’s your typical routine, always heading home with one another after a night out.
As you stagger out the front doors, the cool night air washed over you, a refreshing welcome after being in the stuffy club all night. You walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand, your laughter echoing in the empty streets. However, as you walked, Luke felt the knot of uncertainty tightening in his chest.
The ride up in the elevator is silent, you tucked under his arm humming the song that you danced to earlier. Luke's mind races with doubt. While Luke yearned for something more, he was just about to stumble into yet another fleeting moment.
The front door shuts behind Luke, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. “Y/n, I…” He began, voice faltering.
Before he could continue, you placed a finger on his lips. "Shh, Luke. You don't have to say anything."
You drew him close, connecting your lips, enveloping him in warmth. Luke's arms instinctively wrap around your waist, picking you up off the ground and carrying you over to the couch. Laying you down softly, Luke situates himself above you, dropping a knee between your legs. His hand trails up from your waist, up your torso, cupping your breast and giving it a light squeeze.
The soft, desperate moan you let out had him straining beneath his boxers. Briefly, Luke thought that maybe it was fine. He didn’t need to define this. He was comfortable with the casual flings, knowing you made each other feel so good.
No. That’s his dick heart thinking. His brain takes the reigns, snapping him back to reality. Luke knew he couldn't continue living in the shadows of uncertainty, pretending that he was fine with your relationship being nothing more than casual flings.
Luke’s lips detach from yours, leaving you hanging on the edge. Your eyes flicker open, scanning Luke’s face. His mouth is ajar like he’s on the precipice of saying something, eyes soft as he looks down at you.
“What’s wrong, Luke?” You ask, reaching for his face.
He suddenly pulls out of your reach, standing up. You prop yourself on your elbows, watching him step back from the couch. His heart ached as your expression became worried.
“Y/n… I can’t keep doing this.” Luke says, voice wavering in his admission.
You sit up fully, adjusting your crooked shirt and wiping the sides of your mouth. “What do you mean?”
"I can't keep pretending that what we have is enough when it's clearly not." Luke explained
Your eyes widen in surprise, your usual bubbly demeanour faltering for a moment. “Luke…”
He cuts you off, finally having found resolve. “I need more than just casual hookups… I need something real.” Luke says. “And I can't keep doing this with you, hoping that someday you'll realize that you want more than just a casual fling."
His long strides have him by the door in no second, while you’re still on the couch reeling from what he just said. Luke, a hand on the doorknob, looks back at you. He nearly crumbles at the sight. Tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself tightly. Your mouth moves as you attempt to explain but the words fail to form.
You watch the door slam behind him as Luke leaves you sitting there, feeling foolish. The tears flow down your cheeks leaving mascara stains in their trail.
When Luke enters his apartment, he’s met with his brother half naked on the couch, a girl straddling his hips. “Luke! What are you doing home already?” He asks, the girl throwing herself off of Jack and grabbing his shirt to cover her chest.
Jack was familiar with your guys’s routine. He knew what happened when you two would show up at the same bar, as it frequently ended with him seeing you in his kitchen the next morning. When he witnessed his brother leaving the bar, following you out the doors, he assumed he wouldn’t see his brother till the next morning, and therefore could take advantage of the apartment to himself.
Luke ignores him, bolting straight to his room and slamming the door behind him. Luke throws in his airpods, turning up his music to drown out the thoughts of you.
The next morning, Jack attempts to ask Luke about what happened the night before but is met with an icy response. “Doesn’t matter.” Luke mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. He attempts to pry, at least trying to ask if you’re okay, but it only seems to piss Luke off more.
“Dude, stop fucking asking!” Luke snapped. He huffs, dropping his bowl into the sink. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about it. Now let’s go, we’re gonna be late for morning skate.”
Jack doesn’t press the situation anymore, the drive to the rink done in silence rather than the normal conversation the two would find themselves in.
As Luke laced up his skates in the early morning light, preparing for the routine morning skate, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Thoughts of you swirled incessantly in his mind, a constant distraction that made it difficult to focus on the task at hand. As he glided across the ice, his movements lacked their usual grace and precision. Every stride felt heavy, every shot missed its mark. His teammates shot him concerned glances, noticing his uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm.
But it wasn't just the morning skate that suffered. As the final buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the game, Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over him. Not just because of the loss on the scoreboard, but because he found himself unable to shake the nagging feeling that he had made a grave mistake in breaking things off with you. Deep down he knew that it was the healthy decision to end things with you, but his feelings ran deep.
As he and Jack made their way out of the arena and towards their building, Luke's mind churned with a tumultuous mix of emotions. He replayed the moments of last night over and over again, questioning whether he had made the right choice in ending things.
As Jack and Luke approach their building, they spot a figure sitting on the front steps. It doesn’t take the youngest Hughes long to recognize that it’s you, your normally cheery demeanour replaced by tear-stained cheeks. You stand up, Luke’s heart lurching with concern. Jack slips past them, heading inside to give you space to talk.
“I’m sorry for showing up here so late.” You apologize, your voice wavering with emotion. “But I had to tell you this.”
Luke stays silent, allowing you to continue. You sniffle, wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“I do have feelings for you.” You say. “Like I really, really like you.”
Luke felt like his heart skipped a beat. He had harboured feelings for you for months now, just wanting you to reciprocate. He felt a surge of hope go through him, but couldn’t help but feel confused as to why it took so long.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Luke asks.
You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head, and avoiding Luke’s gaze. “I was afraid.” You admit. “I’ve always been no strings attached… I do what I want and I don’t care what people think. So when I fell for you… I got scared. Because that meant commitment.
“And what if I commit and then get my feelings hurt?” You continue before laughing once again. “But in not committing, I've ended up hurting myself anyway."
Luke reaches out, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. "I thought you weren't afraid of anything," he teased lightly, trying to ease the tension in the air.
A small, watery laugh escapes your lips, a hint of your usual spark returning. "I guess I'm not as fearless as I thought," you admitted, a wistful smile playing on your lips.
Luke’s heart swells with tenderness as he looks into your eyes, vulnerability and honesty shining through. Luke’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking it. Relief washes over the both of you, Luke finding relief in his feelings being shared, you finding relief in finally being able to admit to your fears.
Luke leaned in, closing the distance and brushing his lips against yours in a soft, feather-light kiss. All previous kisses shared between the two of you had been heat-of-the-moment kisses with little realized feelings. But this kiss was a gentle, achingly sweet one. Every sensation of you was heightened as you melted into him, savouring the intoxicating feeling of his lips against yours. This kiss was filled with promise, with longing, with the unspoken desire that had simmered between you for so long.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and exhilarated, Luke's eyes searched yours. There was a silent understanding passing between you, a mutual acknowledgment of the feelings that had been laid bare.
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valleyof-goldenlilies · 11 months
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The Woes of Betrothals (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
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Part 2 about the wedding is out now! Read it here 
Synopsis: Recently betrothed, Prince Aemond is unsure on the virtues befitting that of a good husband. Ser Criston offers some surprisingly useful insight. 
Warnings: nothing explicit, just Aemond being emotionally constipated 
Word Count: 3k words. this was supposed to be a short one shot 😭
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 
A/N: In a fluff writing mood recently, so expect to see more fluffs coming your way (not just for aemond :)) 💗
lovely dividers once again credited to @firefly-graphics​ !
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Heavy grunts and the clashing sound of steel on steel resonated through the training yard of the Red Keep. Surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, Prince Aemond, his forehead beaded with sweat, moved deftly to dodge a blow struck by Ser Criston Cole’s morningstar. 
It was nearly noon, and the Prince and Kingsguard had been training since the break of dawn. Ser Criston had a look of exhaustion on his face, the midday sun clearly taking a toll on him, but Prince Aemond continued sparring with a fierce determination, parrying Criston’s offensives with utmost precision or viciously swinging his sword to land a blow on the knight. 
Whilst the prince was fond of training for long hours, Ser Criston was familiar enough with Prince Aemond’s various moods to know that today, while he was there in person, he was not in spirit. Seeing a chance, Criston quickly moved to swing a blow at Prince Aemond, and succeeded in catching him off guard, knocking the sword from the Prince’s hand for the first time this morning. 
Criston expected the prince to get angry that he had been bested, but Aemond merely raised a brow and rolled his eye, “I yield. Let us cease training for this morning.” Applause broke out through the training yard, and Criston had to hide a grin. It had been a while since he managed to beat Aemond in training. 
As the crowd dispersed, Criston noticed Aemond polishing his sword at a corner, a brooding look on his face. Feeling particularly emboldened this morning at his victory, Criston walked towards the prince, setting down his morningstar as he questioned, “What troubles you, my prince?” 
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are insinuating, Cole,” came Aemond’s curt response, but Criston was undeterred. “You may pretend all is well, but you have been on edge for a few days now, aye?” Criston commented, observing how the prince’s jaw was clenched. Oddly enough, he noticed doubt shining in the prince’s lone violet eye., catching Criston off guard “You may have been sparring with me this morning, but your heart is elsewhere. Tell me what troubles you, my prince.” 
Criston expected the prince to scowl and tell him it was none of his business, but instead, Aemond let out a pensive sigh, before tentatively asking, “Ser Criston, how do you reckon one should please their betrothed?” 
Criston’s ears immediately stood up in attention. Gods be good, the One-Eyed Prince was asking him for advice? And about his betrothed no less. As a Kingsguard, Criston had to suppress a laugh at the irony. “Are you referring to the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, my prince?” 
“Well, it could hardly be anyone else, could it?” Aemond retorted, though his heart was not in it. Criston watched, amused, as Aemond hummed contemplatively, “As you know, she and I were betrothed less than a moon’s turn ago. I had not crossed paths with her often before that, but…” Aemond swallowed, thinking of how brilliantly she smiled at him every time he had the fortune of being graced with her presence. He had always knew that his marriage would be one of duty and political benefit to his house, but over the course of getting to know the lady over the past few weeks, he found her company pleasant, and her gentle charm and surprisingly humorous wit a welcome change in the usual dreadfully boring courtiers at the Red Keep. And with every passing moment he spent in her presence, he felt a small sliver of affection for her begin to blossom in his heart. “As I got to know her more, I soon began to wish to be the sole cause of her brilliant smiles, her beautiful laughter, and selfishly, the sole receiver of her love and affection.”
Aemond had to resist the urge to bury his face in his hands. He was sounding like a lovesick fool, in front of Cole, of all people. Gods, he was an idiot, an utter idiot. Swords he could swing and books he could read, but when it came to affection, he found himself no better than an ignorant babe. “It sounds as though you harbour a great affection for the lady Y/L/N,” Criston smiled. “Yes,” Aemond said softly, his voice tinged a little with despair. “But I am unsure on how to best express my affections. She is akin to an ethereal maiden, and I’m naught but a crippled prince, who is stumped in my duties as a husband. I cannot seem to muster up the courage to proclaim my love for her, or shower her with praises and compliments.” 
‘Gods, what if she is unhappy with my performance of my duties as her husband because I am too much of a coward to even talk to her about my feelings?’ Aemond thought in alarm, mind racing. He did not want to be the reason why those lovely smiles of hers cease to exist. He wanted to make her feel like the most blissful woman in the realm. But he was completely clueless as to how. Words seemed completely inadequate to express the depth of his affection for her, and he had never been the best with his words anyway. 
Just then, Aemond felt a hand on his shoulder, grounding him to reality once more “Breathe, my prince,” Criston’s steady voice calmed Aemond down, making his racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. “I do believe you are overthinking things, my prince. Contrary to popular belief, I think that affection need not be expressed in elaborate gestures or through fervent declarations of love all the time.” 
Aemond’s eyebrows shot up, “Then how will she know how much I appreciate her? I can barely converse with her without looking like a stuttering fool.” Criston smiled, a sort of fatherly affection filling his eyes as he glanced down at the prince. “Though I am lacking in experience in matters of the heart, I believe that affection isn’t always just about grand gestures. Words are not the only outlet to express your admiration of her, my prince. You can start with the little actions: spending time with her, bringing her flowers, talking more with her about her interests, that sort of thing.” “And you think that that would be sufficient?”Aemond was a little sceptical. 
“Of course, that would not suffice in the long run. You are to be married, my prince, you will spend countless years with each other, you will have to do more than that.” Aemond’s face turned crestfallen, causing Criston to pat his shoulder, “However, given your trouble in expressing your feelings, these small gestures are a start. Build up from there, and you’ll find it easier to demonstrate your love for her over time.” Aemond’s gaze was still pensive, but his eye was sparkling a little with hope. “But what if I’m at a loss of words every time I’m with her? Won’t she find my company dreadfully dull then?” Criston couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from him, though Aemond looked faintly offended at that. “Sometimes, your company is good enough, your Grace. Not all your time spent together need be filled with meaningful conversations. Basking in each other’s presence is bliss enough.” 
Satisfied with Criston’s response, Aemond stood up with a decisive look. “I am grateful for your advice, Cole. I shall depart to implement your advice at once.” Before leaving, however, Aemond tilted his head and smirked slightly, “You are rather good at giving romantic advice for a knight, Ser Criston. Your wisdom is wasted on being a Kingsguard.” 
Criston barked a laugh, thinking of that someone from so long ago. “Mayhaps, your grace. But I think I am rather content imparting my knowledge to you for now.” Aemond said nothing at that, only raising a hand in farewell as he strode off. Criston watched him depart, a slight grin on his face. ‘The Queen would be delighted to hear of this,’ he thought to himself with a degree of satisfaction. 
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You were sitting in Princess Helaena’s apartments, forehead furrowed in concentration as you delicately weaved a needle through the handkerchief you were embroidering for your betrothed. The midday sun shone through the long windows, casting a light golden glow throughout Helaena’s chambers. 
“Here, what do you think of this?” Helaena leaned over to you, eyes shining with anticipation as you held up your work so far. “It’s beautiful,” Helaena complimented, “Is that a raven?” You nodded, tilting your head to inspect your work. “Do you think it is too unusual to embroider on a handkerchief?” Helaena laughed, “You should not be asking me. Given the fact that-” she held up her own embroidery, and you laughed when you caught sight of a large beetle on her handkerchief. 
“I have to ask, however, why a raven?” Helaena inquired. You bit your lip softly, remembering your last interaction with your betrothed, Aemond. Knowing your love for birds, Aemond had taken you to Grand Maester Orwyle’s rookery, to see the various birds he had fostered there. You had both taken a liking to the ravens, with their intelligent eyes and strangely silent demeanour, compared to the other noisier birds in the rookery. You thought to yourself that they reminded you much of Aemond, though you did not say it out loud, watching with fond eyes as Aemond fed a raven and stroked its feathers, with a gentleness you did not know he possessed. 
“Your brother seems to like them,” you answered, smiling. Helaena beamed, “I’m sure he would be pleased with your gift.” “I do hope so,” your voice trailed off hesitantly, causing Helaena to take your free hand and squeeze it lightly. You had been much enamoured with your betrothed ever since your arrival to King’s Landing several moon turns ago, and you have come to know and appreciate him for his silent, thoughtful aura. However, his comportment did spell some uncertainty in you. While you knew this was a political match, your heart couldn’t help but yearn that your future husband would love you as much as you did him. 
But it was nigh impossible to tell what the One-Eyed Prince was thinking whenever we spent time together. He seemed perfectly cordial to you…but you wished you could get a further glimpse into what he felt for you. Did he feel at least a fraction of the adoration you felt for him? Or were you doomed to spend a lifetime in a courteous, yet dispassionate and loveless marriage with a man you long admired? 
Your thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock on the door. Startled, you nearly dropped your embroidery, but Helaena caught it deftly just in time. Sheepishly murmuring your thanks, you watched as a serving girl came into the room and curtsied in front of the both of you. “Your Grace, my lady, Prince Aemond is requesting to see you.” 
Aemond? Your heart began pounding furiously, delight and anticipation filling you. Was he here to see you? You tried tamping down your excitement, thinking firmly to yourself that he could be equally as likely to be here for Helaena. “Did he say which of the two of us he wanted to see?” “He wished to see Lady Y/N, your Grace.”
Your heart was beating so fast it felt dangerously close to exploding. Your mind was spinning in a dizzying rush of emotions. Helaena dismissed the serving girl, and smiled at you, “Well, I should not keep my brother waiting any longer for his betrothed. Go.” 
“Thank you, your Grace. Will I see you at dinner with the Queen tonight?” “Of course. You must tell me everything that happens,” Helaena’s eyes twinkled merrily. “That is a given,” you stood up and curtsied, before exiting the room, clutching the handkerchief you just sewed like it was the last thing grounding you to reality. Your steps were light and airy, and your heart nearly stopped when you saw Aemond standing by a window, his back to you, looking as majestic as ever in his training gear and his long silver hair flowing down his back. Your betrothed. 
“My Prince,” a sweet voice broke through Aemond’s thoughts. He turned around, his eye widening as he beheld his fair lady. She was dressed beautifully as always, in a light pink gown with a square neckline and elbow length sleeves. Pearl earrings dangled from her earlobes, serving only to accentuate her lovely complexion. He strode to her as she curtsied, his hand reaching out to her shoulder. 
“At ease,” Aemond’s voice was like velvet. “You are my betrothed, there is no need for such formalities.” You nodded shyly, meeting Aemond’s eye, surprised that today, there was actually a flicker of emotion behind it. Noticing how he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, your eyes widened slightly as you realised that Aemond Targaryen, the usually composed and unflinching prince, was nervous. And it was because of you. 
Aemond cleared his throat, finally revealing what he had been hiding behind his back. Just when you thought the day’s events could not get any stranger than seeing Aemond being anxious, you were caught even more off guard when you spotted an assortment of pink, blue and orange blooms in his hand. 
“These are for you, my lady,” he added, eye darting over her face to drink in all her beautiful features and most importantly, her reaction to his attempt at expressing his adoration for her. He was immensely relieved to find nothing but genuine delight on his betrothed’s face. 
“Oh, they’re wonderful,” you exclaimed happily, a flush going to your cheeks. “You are too kind, my prince. Thank you, I love them.” Aemond watched tenderly as she took the flowers and held them to her nose. She was simply angelic. 
You inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers, feeling your heart flutter at his sudden, but welcome gesture of affection. Perhaps this was a sign he returned your feelings? 
Aemond took a deep breath, trying to recall all the advice Criston had told him in the training yard just now. He had stopped by the garden to pick out the prettiest wildflowers he could find, but he found that none could compare to the sheer radiance of his betrothed when she smiled. ‘Focus’, Aemond told himself sternly, trying to collect his thoughts. ‘This was about making her see how much I care for her, not waxing on and on internally about how utterly struck I am by her beauty. I cannot mess this up.’ 
‘I must make her see how she has come to become the sun in my life.’ 
But Aemond was cut off by your sudden ‘Oh!’ Aemond nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid that there was something wrong with the flowers. But he was puzzled when you extended a handkerchief to him, smiling brightly. “I embroidered this for you. Take this as a token of gratitude for the flowers.” Aemond turned over the handkerchief delicately, tracing over the raven and various flowers sewed at the corner of the handkerchief, along with his initials, ‘A.T’ He felt his breath catch in his throat, “This…this is…” 
You watched him nervously as he stammered before falling into silence. Did he not like it? Perhaps he thought the raven was too much? You gripped the flowers in your hand a little tighter, saying a prayer to the Seven in your mind. 
Your worries were immediately allayed when Aemond pressed a shaky kiss onto your forehead. Startled, yet utterly enchanted, you stared up at him, who looked almost as shocked as you were at the kiss. “I…I take it you like your gift then?” you asked softly. 
He let out a quiet chuckle, “I think ‘like’ is an understatement, my lady. It is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given to me. I shall cherish it forever. As I will with you.” 
Aemond nearly screamed when he realised he blurted out the last part. ‘Why did I say that, why did I say that, why did I say that!’ his mind flooded with panic. However, suddenly emboldened from the adrenaline of the moment, he finally found the courage to express what he had been feeling for his fair lady. “My lady, I would like to confess something, and I think there couldn’t be a more appropriate time than this. I am hopelessly besotted with you.” He watched her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and he hurried to add, “Tis alright if you do not return those feelings! I understand, believe me. I do not wish to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. But it’s just that I loved you for so long, and I had no idea how to tell you, and I fear if I let this moment slip I will never muster up the bravery to tell you again and gods I-” the energy suddenly drained out of him as he found himself once again, at a loss of words. “I just…adore you beyond belief. Beyond what I can fathom. Please ignore my ramblings if you are uncomfortable with them, just take them as the words of a lovesick fool.” He averted her eyes, embarrassment and sadness filling him. How could he hope for someone as good and wonderful as her to love such a beast as him? The Gods should strike him down for his pride. 
A warm hand reached for Aemond’s, interlacing her fingers with his. Aemond looked up in disbelief at your next words, “You have no idea how thankful I am to hear those words…because I feel the same.” You smiled shyly at him, “I was hoping you had the same sentiments as I did, and now that you professed your feelings, I could not be happier.” 
Aemond reached out to grip her hand with both of his, cradling her soft hand in his hands, staring deep into her eyes, sparkling with so much devotion and adoration. They stood in silence for a while, before Aemond pulled her hand gently to his lips and planted a reverent kiss to her knuckles. 
“Would you…perhaps care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I believe we have a lot to discuss.” 
“I would love nothing more, your Grace.” 
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 7 months
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Spooky season needs spooky stuff.. >:3
So can I request the digital circus cast (minus Caine)meeting a Child Spirit Y/n headcanons,who like Kinda possesed/went inside the game to find they’re killer for some reason? They are eerily quiet and like to stare but if talked to very sweet but quick to snap in distrust because..well trust is what got them killed in the first place? They’re a bit bloody..and a eyeball sometimes hangs out?? Like vhs horror stuff
Sorry I’m being so descriptive,I hope you are a nice day!
OOOoo yes time for more spooks!
Also I am having a nice night, thanks! (and I hope you are having a nice day/night too!)
......
Pomni
To make a long story short, you got murdered while wearing the headset, and that tethered your spirit to TADC.
As expected, you lost memories of who you were--except for the knowledge that someone killed you because you trusted them too much, and you believed the answers were inside this very game.
Your character ends up looking like a child's ghost costume: a white bedsheet stained in blood and one of your eyeballs occasionally wanting to pop from its socket.
Caine (who was very much bewildered at your arrival) declares that you're part of an "exclusive Halloween update" and changes up the tent and grounds to have more spooky flair.
But Pomni clearly wants no part of it, and she can tell you don't either.
You're clearly a kid who is (somehow) handling the situation of being stuck in this game better than her, yet when she tries asking you about it....all you do is stare back.
She swears she can hear static noises and whispers she can't decipher--all in all getting a...very creepy vibe from you.
Initially she decides to keep her distance, afraid you were secretly some virus or Abstraction underneath that sheet.
But that changes when you're walking by the rooms one night, and you pass by Pomni's door, hearing her quietly crying.
Although you weren't inclined to get close to anybody here, you were concerned. And since you weren't actually coded into the game, you didn't have to follow any of its rules--and that allowed you to enter her room without a key.
At first you scared the shit out of her, but after realizing it's you, she lets you sit beside her, eventually venting about how badly she missed her real home.
"Everyone keeps telling me "oh this place is so much better" or "get used to it"...but what if I don't wanna do that? I don't care if my old life was bad...I-I can't take anymore of this.." Her sobs grow louder. "I wanna wake up in my own bed knowing my real name!!"
"...I miss home, too," is all you say in response. Yet it's more than enough to calm her down.
For once, you're not trying to brush her off or force her to "cheer up" and accept her reality. You made her feel heard.
"Yeah..me, too....sh-should I thank you for agreeing..?" She sniffles, seeing your subtle nod, before you leave her be, not wanting to get too attached.
Ironically, she was able to sleep a little easier after talking to you.
Jax
From the get-go, he's gonna be real nosy and curious.
Since not even Caine himself expected your arrival and found out that you don't follow the "rules" like everyone else...Jax is gonna try his damnedest to understand you and see what makes you tick.
But he's gonna be disappointed quickly since you don't respond much to him (or anybody in general).
"So...ya like Halloween?"
"........"
"....thought so. Good talk, new kid."
You definitely act like a legit ghost--doing nothing but stare, move things around, and pop up unexpectedly.
Eventually, his curiosity leads to him visiting your room (which has no key), and he discovers many drawings on the walls.
Most depicting a dead person wearing a headset.
What he found most disturbing was a journal that contained his and the others' names..
From what he's gathering...you're suspecting one of them of murdering your real world-self.
But he doesn't get much time to ponder this as you show up, angry at him for intruding.
You make yourself look even bloodier and scarier, with both of your eyeballs hanging from their sockets and staring at him.
"Get out."
Those two simple words put the fear of god in him.
Jax runs out faster than a jackrabbit, colliding with Gangle in the process. Her comedy mask falls off again, but he catches it and looks at her.
"J-Jax..?" She realizes his fur is standing up on all ends, and he looks terrified....even more than he did after realizing the circus was his forever home.
But he just shoves the mask back into her hands and leaves without saying a word.
He never speaks of what he found in your room that day.
Kinger
He thought his eyes were weird...until you came along and periodically had to put your own eyeball back into its socket.
"It's good to know I'm not alone!" He nervously chuckles, only to be met with your eerie silence.
Sometime later, he suggests showing you his insect collection, and it does pique your interest.
You did love all things "creepy" and "crawly".
Yet you're adamant about going to his pillow fortress after he invites you.
It reminds you of the ones you used to build all the time, up until...
Fortunately, Kinger recognizes your reluctance and just brings one of his bug boxes to you so you can look at it.
He could infodump about the various critters for hours, with nothing but nods and quiet "mhms" from you, and he's happy.
In general, he doesn't mind your quiet personality.
Although you still sometimes jumpscare him unintentionally like Gangle often does.
Tbh he's a good father figure and recognizes that you're just a kid who got trapped in this game unfairly.
Even so, you try to keep your distance and looks at him suspiciously if he starts acting too nice.
He was quiet aloof, and you weren't sure how he would act on any given day.
Gangle
After accidentally spooking her (by simply existing in the same room as her), she breaks her comedy mask off.
But immediately she feels guilty for screaming and tries scrambling to fix it, hoping you weren't mad at her.
Yet all you do is stare, not looking angry or anything at all (it's hard for any of the performers to see your expression in general, aside from your hanging eye, but still).
Poor Gangle is just afraid you'd turn into a scarier version of yourself.
When she keeps cutting her ribbon fingers(?) on the ceramic pieces, you come over and clean it up for her, taking it away despite your own hands bleeding.
The implications that you were able to shed blood and nobody else were a little disturbing to her..but she's glad you're not offended by her screaming.
Although she wonders where you're going with her mask..
Later on, you knock on her door and present it fully fixed.
Except...it looks more Halloweenish with an evil smile painted on it, messily glued together.
'Oh god I hope this doesn't turn me evil or anything..' She thinks, putting on a smile as she takes it anyways.
Yet you remain where you are, staring and clearly waiting for her to try it on.
And so she does, and it turns her into a very chaotic Halloween lover, acting even more mischievous than Jax and allowing her to finally get her revenge for all his pranks.
In the end, you gain a decent friendship with her, subtly protecting her from Jax's bullying.
Ragatha
Seeing that you're so distant from the rest of the gang has her worried.
Some of them might consider your loose eyeball creepy, but she's not gonna judge you on that (besides, she's missing an eye altogether so she can't say much anyways).
Howeve,r she's the first to find out how strong your distrust of everyone is.
"[Y/n]? I don't think it's good to be isolating yourself like this. I know you hate being here and Caine's a weirdo..but...we're all in this together. You can trust us-"
"Don't." You warn, putting on a frightening display of anger that sends her tumbling to the ground, sending chills up her spine.
"Trust" became something you didn't take lightly, as the last time you put your trust in someone....you ended up dead, turning into a literal ghost in the machine (that was your gaming system).
Despite this, Ragatha doesn't run away.
Like Pomni, she understands that you're just a kid who's confused and lost.....and clearly had serious trust issues.
But she's determined to help you through that, even if you keep scaring everybody away.
She's got motherly instincts, and she hopes that in due time you'll learn to warm up to her.
Zooble
"A bedsheet worn as a costume? That's a classic."
She's seen weirder things during their time in the circus, so you don't faze her too much.
Only when you snap at Ragatha or somebody who was trying to be nice to you does she raise an eyebrow.
Honestly, they 100% understand that you just wanted to be alone sometimes, and she respects that.
It's suffocating trying to act all cheery and go along with every damn activity Caine tries to get everyone involved in (but lucky for you, he can't make you follow along).
Especially since she believes he made up that stupid "Halloween update" as lazy way to explain your sudden arrival.
The only time you do interact with Zooble is after she yanks Jax by his ears, and they hear this eerie-sounding giggle behind them.
When she turns around, you're just standing there motionless, staring at her.
Somehow, they just know you were smiling underneath that costume, which makes her smile, too.
"Maybe I should pull him out a hat next time, huh?" She jokes after letting him go, and you giggle once more as he hits the ground.
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