#they are useless so they use you like me. and i know i cannot rush it cannot learn your lessons for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nev3rfound · 11 months

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anyone but you : b.b

you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way? (2.6k)

we've got ourselves a good'un today angels, and you have @imagine-all-the-fandoms for the brill idea :)

warnings - graphic descriptions of torture and wounds. (but fluffy ending)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

“Mmh, okay. So, our options- wait stop laughing at me!” Throwing the menus in his direction, Bucky stifles the rest of his laugh by trying to play it off as a cough.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up the menus that had been promptly thrown at him. "I'm not laughing at you doll." Bucky reasons, moving across the sofa to now kneel in front of the coffee table where you're perching opposite him looking through your phone for alternatives.

"Sure sounds like it to me." You chide, glancing up with a mischievous glint in your eyes, one Bucky can't help but get lost in, completely missing the words sounding from your lips. Clicking your fingers in front of him, Bucky snaps from the depths of his mind.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks, only elated as your grin widens into a playful smile. "Right, dinner!" Bucky slaps his hand down on his thigh before rising to his feet and dramatically clasps one hand over his eyes. "How 'bout we do the random selector, huh?"

Chuckling to yourself, you nod along before rising to your feet. "Let's do it, Barnes."

Covering your eyes as well, the pair of you reach down and clutch a menu in your grasp and open your eyes. "I got Chinese!" You announce, and Bucky grunts in disappointment as he holds up the leaflet loosely.

"I got the shitty pizza place a few blocks away." He groans, watching you cheer victoriously. "You won this time, Y/n." He rushes over to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around your waist before lifting you up, hearing you squeal before dropping the menu. "But I'll win next time, mark my words."

With your arms around his neck, Bucky dips you lowly with a smirk. "That so, Barnes?" You tease, leaning closer to his face. "We'll see." You add, closing the distance between you both with a sweet quick kiss. "Now come on, I'm starving!"

"Thirty minutes til we land, guys." Natasha announces from the front of the jet.

Unable to keep his knee from bouncing once the announcement was made, Bucky cannot stop his thoughts from returning to you. It had been a longer mission than anticipated with little to no contact with the outside world. He's so used to sending a text, a quick call to just hear your voice and know you're okay whether it be doing a mundane task or listening to you moan about a colleague.

That's one of the things Bucky loves about you; the normalcy of it all. You couldn't be more of a polar opposite to the former soldier, with a 9-5, a pension scheme, and health benefits included. Whereas he just gets thrown into the unknown more than he cares to admit and comes out slightly more traumatized with each mission.

Noting the nervous actions of his friend, Steve nudges Bucky's arm. "You got plans with Y/n once we get back?" Steve asks, knowing it'll help pass the remaining time until they land.

Within seconds the tension melts from Bucky's body and even Sam catches the barely there smile on the soldier's face.

"Going to this movie theatre she loves, it's kinda run down but she likes to call it 'old school.'" He quotes, picturing the first time you dragged him along to the theatre. "And well, I've got something planned for her, but I don't know." Bucky trails off, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Well, sounds great to me, Buck." Steve comments, moving slightly closer, and lowers his head in an attempt to keep the overs from interrupting. "So, you ever gonna bring her to the compound?"

Bucky sighs deeply and Steve backs up, knowing it's useless to even pry further into it.

"It's just so good, Steve." Bucky starts, glancing around at those around him, some looking through reports and others dozing off. "I don't want her to get enveloped in this side of our life." He explains and Steve simply nods. "I love what we have, and, and I don't wanna risk ruining that."

"Understood." Steve pats Bucky's arm. "She really brings out the best in you, you know?"

"Yeah, he's been notably less grumpy since they got together." Sam comments from the other side of the jet, receiving a brief glare from Bucky. "Less grumpy, Barnes. You're no ray of sunshine yet."

The rest of the flight sped by whilst Bucky remained deep in his thoughts which mostly circled around you. He was jolted from his memories once the jet landed and they all began to disembark.

As the team began to walk through the compound, Bucky quickly got his phone out to send you a message. But before he could even start to type one, a series of urgent texts flash up on his screen.

"Bucky?" Steve calls out to his friend who is almost frozen in place, staring down at his phone with panic written across his expression. "Buck?" Walking toward his friend, he looks down at Bucky's phone and feels his heart drop at what he's reading.

With a shaky hand, Bucky forces his head up to meet Steve's eyes. "Steve, I," He can barely form the right words, unsure what to even say. "This, this can't happen." His mind shifts to denial, but upon hearing his name being called urgently up ahead by Tony and Bruce he can feel his whole world crashing down on him.

The first sensation that came back was your smell. In hindsight, you wish it wasn't and that you could've remained senseless, but you weren't so lucky.

It smelt like metal, smoke, and sweat. Little did you know, that was all coming from you.

Your eyesight followed suit and quickly alerted your captures with delight that you were conscious at last. "Help!" You cry out, now noticing your arms shackled to a wall in a dank-looking cell. "Please, help me!" Within seconds the screams tear at your throat, scratching it raw as laughter enters your ears.

Through the shadows, a large figure emerges holding up an old school camcorder whilst he grimaces at you, eyes roaming over the wounds inflicted. "Bout time you woke up darling." The man snarls, moving closer into your enclosed space. "Wanna say hi to your friends?" Forcing the camera to your face, you're quick to turn your head away, only to feel a sweaty hand clench your jaw and force you to look directly into the lens as tears glisten in your eyes. "You know what to do if you want her back." The man comments, further confusing you about the situation before he reveals a small knife in his grasp.

"No, please," You plead, shaking your head at the sight of the knife rising before plowing it down into your thigh.

The last thing Bucky sees is your face contorted in pain, the movement of your lips as you scream in anguish. But all of the sounds have become white noise.

"Do we know who sent this?" Steve is the first to ask, noting Bucky standing too still for his own liking.

Raising his hand, Bruce swipes across and reveals three headshots of so-called reformed criminals. "Jason Donahough, Mark Whitehall, and Edward Polaski." Bruce points to each, pausing at the sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring, the plates sliding as he clenches both fists at the images.

"I know them." Bucky states through gritted teeth.

"A message was delivered with the video, we're trying to locate the source with the help of FRIDAY." Tony explains, revealing the two simple sentences.

Come get your girl, Winter Soldier. It's time to resume the game.

A shudder spreads through Bucky at the second sentence. They still remember what he did, and clearly aren't messing around this time.

"I have to go." Bucky tells himself, too in his own head to notice several pairs of eyes fall on him in alarm.

"Bucky, that's," Steve starts, but Bucky is already walking out the door before he can finish his sentence. "We gotta go, who's in?"

Almost every hand shoots up and Steve nods, everyone starts to file out, knowing what needs to be done.

They came in abruptly, knocking the chains on your ankles to alert you of their presence. Mostly they just wanted to taunt you, sometimes they'd spare you the pain of reminding you that you were alone and no one would come for you. But more often than not, they'd add to your growing list of injuries, conflicting another wound to your skin as more blood stains the tiles.

No one answers the questions you ask when conscious enough to form words. 'Where am I?' 'How long have I been here?' and the one that scares you most of all, 'Why me?'

"You think he'll come?" Your ears perk up at the question, and you force your heavy head up an inch to see two of your attackers conversing outside of your cell.

One of them is holding a phone tightly in his grasp, chewing on his lip at the question. "For her? Hopefully." He scoffs before looking back at you, noticing the corners of your lips rising weakly. "What're you smiling at, bitch?" His voice rises before he marches over to you, grabs a hold of your face with one hand, and stares you dead in the eyes. "Somethin' you wanna say?" He demands, eyes widening awaiting a response.

Instead, you spit in his face, watching him recoil in disgust.

"You'll pay for that," He states, reaching into his pocket for something whilst your eyes grow heavy once again, unaware of a red light flickering through the base and alarms blaring.

The two men exchange a look, one you're oblivious to when your head slumps back down to rest against your chest.

"Showtime." One of the men laughs, clapping his hands before they both exit the cell, leaving your weak body alone-something you can be silently thankful for.

"Bucky," His name passes from your lips before your eyes drop once more.

Leading the mission, Bucky refuses to trail from the plan. Sometimes, he'll swerve from the set motions, but when it comes to you, nothing is to be changed or come as a surprise.

Continuing through the dank corridors, Bucky keeps his gun aimed in front of him whilst Steve and Natasha follow behind. So far Bucky has not left a single guard standing, and some without breath.

"You think this is it?" Natasha questions, looking at a series of locked doors, each with a number printed above and the red light flashing.

Bucky remains silent, trying to zone out from the murmurs behind him. His eyes continuously scan over the doors, he homes in on the furthest down the corridor, noting the light flashing white instead of red.

"There." Bucky speaks up, picking up pace toward the door only to be surprised by three guards who start shooting.

Wasting no time, Bucky tears the three down with ease. He ignores their screams whilst he shoots and punches his way through them.

Breathing deeply, Bucky leans forward to see a series of buttons to unlock the door. "Got any idea-" Steve starts, only to be met with Bucky smashing his metal fist into the panel, causing the door to open.

Adjusting their eyes to the dimly lit room, the trio enter apprehensively.

Scanning the room, Bucky's breath catches in his throat at the frail figure in the corner of the room. "Y/n?" His voice croaks, wasting no time to rush to your side, delicately lifting your head up to his lap. Eyeing over your various injuries, Bucky shakes his head and nestles your cheek with his hand. "What've they done to you?"

"Buck, we've got to get her out, now." Steve places his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching his oldest friend help you up and break the chains keeping you cemented in place. "Nat's clearing our exit, we don't have long."

Upon picking you up, Bucky freezes at your loud cry. "I'm sorry, doll, I'm so sorry." He repeatedly mumbles into your neck as he cradles your body in his arms all too aware of you dipping in and out of consciousness.

Much to their surprise, their exit is easier than anticipated. With you lying limp in Bucky's arms breathing heartlessly, Nat starts the jet up.

"It was all just to prove a point." Bucky states quietly, an oxygen mask now covering your nose and mouth. "just to show they could still get back at me, after all this time." His fists begin to clench on the edge of the seat, something Steve quickly picks up on as he moves to sit beside the pair of you.

Looking down at you in daylight, Steve could feel his heart clench in his chest. From what he saw of you briefly in photographs, you were shell of the woman you were physically, let alone mentally when you eventually come to.

"She's safe now, Buck." Steve reminds Bucky, feeling a sense of hope wash over the jet at your eyes open.

"Buck?" You croak, trying to lift your hand up, only for it to be held tightly by Buckys. "You, you found me." Tears start to build in your eyes upon seeing his, only for them to quickly refill with black spots.

"Of course, I'll always find you." Bucky whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a tear glides across your skin.

two months later

"Okay, okay!" Bucky chuckles heartfully, clutching the menu in his grasp above his head whilst you pout up at him. "Just say sorry and it's yours, doll."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lightly sigh. "Come on, that's not fair. Steve will agree with me on this, right, Steve?" Glancing over your shoulder, Steve doesn't move a muscle from the armchair situated in the compound living area. "Steve?" Waving your hand, you reach for a cushion to throw at him, only for it to be deflected at the last second.

"I think you've got a slight advantage here, Buck." Steve chimes in, much to Bucky's playful dismay.

Lowering his arms back down, Bucky kneels in front of you with the menu in hand. "Here you go, doll." He winks, watching you snatch it from his grasp before wheeling backward toward the coffee table.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes." You salute, reaching across for your crutch to ease you out of the wheelchair.

Upon hearing a quiet wince, Bucky's gaze falls upon you, and starts to walk in your direction to assist. "She's got this." Natasha pipes up, now entering the room to see what all the commotion was.

"Thanks, Nat." You smile, now using the crutch you reach for your phone, revealing the scarring on your forearm which sometimes hurts to see.

With a quick tug, you pull on the sleeve of Bucky's henley you've stolen before dialing for the takeaway and leaving the room.

Now left alone with two old friends, Bucky can practically hear their questions protruding. "She's just taking things a day at a time." Bucky explains, burying his head in his hands at the memories of the past few months.

"I mean, I haven't heard her laugh like this since before," He trails off, not wishing to finish the sentence as images of blood, your screams, and pleads replay.

"It's alright," Natasha comments with a soft smile. "She's tougher than she looks, for a civilian that is." She adds.

"Who're you callin' a civilian?" You speak up, feigning shock at Natasha's remark. "I happen to be a very special person." You add, slowly making your way toward Bucky.

Smiling at the interaction, Steve dares to ask. "And what makes you special, huh, Y/n?" He plays along, thankful to see Bucky's smile growing as you reach him, wrapping your free arm around his middle.

"'Cause this guy gets to date me." You state with a smug grin, feeling Bucky kiss your temple with a smile on his lips. "Nothing more special than that, right?" Looking up at Bucky, his smile only widens as the sparkle in your eye flashes for a moment, slowly making its return.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky tells you. "Luckiest guy around."

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sugar-plum-writer · 1 month

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A Heian Era Affair

Parings: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; Chaos; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader A/n: Sorry for not putting out any updates or fics for almost a month! T~T I was busy with college and sem exams! but they are finally over so yay!!!!

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

@elernity @derpykirb here is the update! ^-^

CHAPTER - 3

The sunlight basked in the small wooden house, the morning dew shimmered as the birds chirped in a lovely tune, a better alarm clock than what Gojo was used to

"Don't wash clothes like that! if you use too much strength it will rip apart!"

"I am trying god damn it!"

Wiping the sweat from his forehead he scrubbed the clothes, you guided him as you sat beside him, your hair tied up in a bun sweating yourself.

"How did humans survive this!?" he groaned

As he and you continued washing the clothes you heard a scream from him

"Ah shit!-", he bit his lip

"Oh lord what happened!?", hurriedly you took his hand and your eyes widened as blood dripped from his wrist

"This is bad wait let me get medicine!"

"Wait-"

Before he could say anything you had already left

"I can use RCT…" he whispered words barely audible as he watched you running

After some seconds he saw you holding a wooden box

"You truly are useless and cannot even wash clothes properly! How can you even call yourself the strongest!?" you nagged him as you cleaned up his wounds and bandaged him up

"Oh sorry I am not used to washing clothes using ancient methods near rivers am I?!", he argued back as the yelling continued

Unknown to you the moment you bandaged him up he had used RCT to heal it within seconds

"Phew that should do it…let's just hope you don't get an infection if you do even I cannot save your life"

Hearing your words he has never been happier to be able to use RCT

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Y/n!" a lady rushed screaming your name, causing both you and Gojo to finally stop nagging each other

"Who is she?" he whispered

"Just my neighbor, an aunty my mother knew"

"I see... I guess aunts are the same every era..."

"Oh my god, you did not tell me you got married!?" she yelped as she saw Gojo beside you

"I am not married okay!?" freaking out you tried your best to refuse her words

"What do you mean not married!? oh~ he is your boyfriend~" She nudged you and smirked as she walked towards Gojo who was screaming internally looking at you desperately for help

"He is n-!"

"Greetings! My name is Sumi Tachibana, I am Y/n's neighbor!"

Cutting you off she looked at Gojo smiling brightly

"My name is Gojo Satoru it's nice to meet you too", he smiled putting his hand out to shake her hands

"Oh~ how bold to flirt with me in front of your future wife! I am married so sorry~" she chuckled bashfully

"Huh…?", he looked at her then at you confused

"Aunty! What brought you here?" you stood between her and Gojo shielding him

"Oh right! I came to tell you the village has decided to host a festival next week so be sure to come!" she smiled warmly and left after chatting a little longer

"Flirting…what crazy conclusion is that!?" Gojo looked at you dumbstruck

"See I don't know what you knew previously but to put your hand forward to a lady after just meeting her gives the wrong signals alright" You looked at him and sighed

"Ancient times sure are crazy…"

"Oh god…" groaning you lowered your head

"What's the matter?" he looked at you

"She is now gonna tell everyone in the village that we are in a relationship"

He looked at you even more stunned than before, things were progressing too fast his brain felt fried. He realized just how big of a deal it was for him and you to be together in ancient times

"I guess…we gotta pretend to be in one"

"Do you know the significance of what you are saying!?" you looked at him shocked

"What? it's just a relationship~ I have been in many! my experience is over the charts dear" he smirked playfully as he looked at you

Link to Masterlist!

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sapphic-agent · 4 months

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Sorry in advance for how long and wordy this gets.

My Hero Academia is squandered by the less than mediocre writing of Horikoshi. I will give him credit only on his ideas and concepts as the premise of the series and the setting are likely the only reason any of us are still tuning in, that and spite.

The show is too quickly paced and surprisingly for a complaint about a shonen, it's too action packed it doesn't offer much up in the way of quiet moments allowing characters to breath properly outside of conflicts and so I don't really care much about the conflicts they are involved in, especially when the thematic relevance of said conflict got spoon fed to me moments before it started in a shoehorned scene or a flashback.

Hori introduces themes of Heroic corruption regularly but never actually shows any corrupt hero's, and those that are said to be corrupt show very quickly that they aren't, usually at the detriment of others.

A complete reboot is necessary, slowing down the pacing immensely to the point where this war arc we are on will take place once they have all left UA. Have major events of the story take place staggered across the three years of UA, include "filler" with dedicated episodes to every student of 1A with mini arcs exploring the more important side characters such as Todoroki, Tenya, Uraraka, Tsuyu and maybe even Momo.

Completely redo Aizawa to actually perform to his own standards, he should teach the students to work on their fundamental "quirkless" capabilities as he more than anyone should know how easy it is to beat someone who has had their quirk countered to make sure they won't die in a situation where their quirk is useless, instead of threatening to expell them for having a weak quirk or non versatile quirk.

This can be done easily by just inverting his test. Have elementary/middle schools let kids use their quirks in gym and PE to help them understand their quirks and use them safely and give genuine context for why teenagers are expected to be skilled with their quirks when public quirk use is illegal. And have his starting test be about who is the most capable without them, showing him to be an unorthodox instructor and less of a hypocrite as that genuinely ties into his fighting style.

Have Izuku be quirkless for either half or all of his first year at UA. Have All Might take notice of him but still teach at UA to scout out a proper successor. Have Izuku manage to get into UA and do well in it's entrance exam as someone quirkless.

Make quirkless people exist and actually matter. 20% of the human race are quirkless, that is a much larger number than people realise coming in at a wopping 1.6 billion would be quirkless out of 8.1 billion. That cannot just be the elderly like fannon suggests.

Have Izuku go from the quirkless wonder to user of OFA actually matter, have him being conflicted about it, have other quirkless people actually have opinions on it, have people discredit him for being Quirked all along, only pretending to be quirkless. If you have him inherit the quirk at all.

Have stain be quirkless and have that revelation chill the world, have him being rejected from heroics for being quirkless have Stain parallel Izuku in many ways.

I could go on and on and on and on about a million and one ideas that would make the show/manga better but I feel like I've made my point well enough that there is so much here untapped that Horikoshi has, but rushed his way past for the next action scene and ultimately squandered.

Agree that MHA does need a major rewrite. It had such great potential and introduced a lot of intricate concepts for an average shonen, only to squander it at every turn. Like someone super smart in one of my reblogs said, "the story has a lot of interesting ideas, the author just has nothing interesting to say about them." A series that was built upon discrimination, inequality, and prejudice has done nothing more in the end than prop up the privileged, bigoted kid over the MC he abused.

Talk a about disappointing

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #ask

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flordeamatista · 2 years

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Glimpse of You

pairing: Beach Bar Owner!Ari Levison x curvy!Reader (any body type)

concept: Your darkness will be drained away by him. Because you gave him air, he'll let you breathe and release.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: Chronic pain, fatigue, anxiety, orgasm pain therapy,poetic smut (f receiving), talking about medication, angst feelings–feeling useless and weak, body worshiping, nicknames : my soul — princess

a/n: I dedicate this to all my love ones suffering from chronic pain. It may not be your struggle exactly, but this man would do anything for you.

Beta by the lovely @lookiamtrying

Thank you to my loves for encouraging me to write this @lfnr-blog-blog-blog and @mrsmischief209

Masterlist

There are times when you need to use a whip to help yourself up, and although you take punches after punches, you'll see the light at the end of the tunnel

Your body curled even further into itself after a sharp stab. When it creeps into your life and takes away your joy of just being you, you are overtaken by it. Cry like waves into a dark night of pain and no one will understand why you cry. Because of this pain, you know this illness has no cure, just the ability to deal with it.

Yes, it can make it numb, but you don't want numbness, you want freedom.

The waves of the dark thunder ripple upon your body as you drown in another cry. The bathtub continued to claw at your body, but you couldn't defend yourself. As you float with your head up, breathing heavily from your pain self, the water around you begins to soothe the burn.

Your hands pushed up against the walls of the tub, trying to crawl to the edge for succor, for salvation. The fire surged its way to your fingers, and the white-hot pain swept over the rest of your body. Your hands gripped the edge of the tub, but the pain spread to your fingers and they dropped. Your body felt like it was boiling, and you screamed into the dark ocean of your torture.

Cool water washed over your body, causing the burn on your body to rest. The room was ablaze with agony. The pain that accompanied it surged across your body in waves.

Like a companion, the pain surrounding is so alive, so painful.

You open your eyes, but the world is blurry. Your gaze is drawn to a face. His face is filled with sorrow as he stares deep into your eyes. There is nothing like his eyes in the world. There is calm and relief in it, and you have seen the world.

Ari's face is swallowed whole in the pain you are in. Your pain is his pain. He wants every drop of pain inhaling in your body to be gone because he only wishes every breath of yours to be painless. Unless he is plying your body with the most beautiful moans. His mission is to free your body. After that first night and that night in his club, he known you for a few months and started running after you.

His words make your mind less painful, and you feel a rush of relief. The pain would be less confusing if it was separate from you.

“my soul ?'' His words forced their way into your mind, calming you like no other.

Having weakness in front of him is not what you're used to. Traveling around and teasing him for months, now he sees the weak side of you. An individual suffering from chronic illness cannot be loved in this way because this is when one can be strong for days and then dark for the next.

It's natural to love strength, but do you love me for my own weaknesses, because I have demons of pain of my own?

In managing chronic pain, one must always be prepared for the next flare-up, never quite knowing if the threat has passed or if it is just saving its energy for the next attack.

There had previously been a wide range of medications prescribed by doctors, including high-strength opiates, anti-inflammatories, and lidocaine injections. Pain was managed with medication, but fatigue, nausea, and concentration problems resulted, making you feel worse.

You even tried a yoga retreat but it only improve your flexibility. You traveled around Europe to be free and live your life to the fullest, but your fullest was Ari that day.

"Princess" he repeated, then you understood. It has a deeper meaning to him now than when he first said it.

He is telling you that he is you.

He lifts you out of the tub and towards his bedroom, he lays you down to ease that pain.

You flew out of your skin and the pain still felt real.

''Ari, we don't have to do this,'' you said. ''We don't have to do this for me.''

“I'll take it from you and just need to let go. ''It's my job to make you fly, sweet love ''

Your upper body was tickled and stroked as his lips swayed with each kiss. He gently rubbed your sides while tracing patterns on your thighs after pausing at the hips to brush his thumbs over the lines that nature had so skillfully drawn.

Because he is ready to take your pain, his voice did not carry pain. There was still heat surrounding you, but no fire.

With a blue sparkle in his eye and a playful smirk, he hovered over the fleshy mound, named after the goddess of love. He slowly laved the full length of your folds up to the top, without breaking eye contact. Your pulse quickened, you reached for Ari's hair, threading it through it and gazing at him as your hips rose off the mattress.

He continued to kiss you down. You whipped a sound that echoed down Ari's spine as he teased your little bundle of nerves with his mouth and fingers, reveling even more in the sounds you made and the way your body tensed.

He is transforming your pain sensitivities into desires for enjoyment.

''Ari,'' you whisper. The voice has not changed, the pain is still there, but you are separate.

You're not sure how your body is even moving right now, your fingers clenched so tightly in the bed sheets that you're about to rip them apart with your nails as you clench around Ari's fingers. Suddenly, your legs shiver, your back arches, and you gasp as the pain goes away. Coming down from the orgasm happens gradually, and you squirm.

You cry a gust of dark wind and rain, tears dripping from the edges of your eyes like railings carrying sorrow and remorse. With the slightest effort, the arms felt heavy to move, ones that could not bend or lift.

He relaxed his jaw, allowing his tongue to slide deeper into his mouth, expertly peeling back the thin layers of flesh with the tip before poking inside, like a bird harvesting fruit. The more Ari surrendered to the taste, the more you hummed, driving him insane with vibrations that increased the more Ari lost himself in it. As he penetrated you, fully holding your hips, precision was only at the back of his mind.

Your darkness will be drained away by him. Because you gave him air, he'll let you breathe and release.

Sensed you were close, Ari sucked again at the swollen little nub, flicking the tongue at its tip, sending you over the edge. You moaned his name as your body uncoil like a spring released from tension. A sigh escapes your lips. You're hot and heavy, and your skin is burning.

For the first time in years, it took several minutes to realize that ecstasy Ari had completely eliminated severe discomfort. The painkiller was cured of agony with pleasure at that moment, and this was the best treatment.

In spite of the harshest waves, he will hold out to the tide so you can keep growing and blooming

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deliriousbug · 1 year

Note

Sorry to ask another request but can't get enough of your writing man😭

Shockwave x Autisticmale reader where Shockwave and reader fight and the words that shockwave said to reader makes it where it takes reader to heart. So, Shockwave gets Soundwave to send reader home and thinks that'll be the last of him thinking about reader but sees that he can't stop thinking about reader (though shockwave is in denial cause of his logic). Up to you on what he does to apologize to reader, if he apologizes cause that would mean he was wrong in something and has to "be illogical".

Shockwave never should have opened his Unicron-damned mouth. He hurt you, worse than he ever could have expected to harm with only words. You weren’t talking to him anymore, and barely made eye contact either. Logically, you would want nothing to do with Shockwave anymore, so he asked SOundwave to take you home. Home, where you belonged. The thought brought unease and another feeling to his spark. He paused in his work when he realized this must be what sadness felt like.

Shockwave sighed. Should he have said goodbye? He wished that he had. But you were gone now, and he was unlikely to ever see you again. The weight on his spark worsened into a dull ache which he dutifully ignored. This was no time to become. . . emotional. But he missed you already, missed your company while he worked, and the light touches on his shoulder where you usually sat to watch him work.

Shockwave shook his helm. “No,” he said aloud. “I will not be consumed by something as illogical as mourning someone who is still functioning.” He thought that hearing himself say it might make it true, but the harder he tried to think about anything but you, it was useless. You consumed his thoughts and his spark, and the loss of you quickly became unbearable. Shockwave’s servos trembled and he dropped his welder. It fell to the floor with a clatter. He bent to pick it up but sank to the floor next to it instead.

What had he done? Pushing you away when you meant so much to him.

For hours Shockwave battled with his need for logic and his illogical need for you. It was well past midnight when he caved and called you. He didn’t even know what he would say if you answered. He was never one to beg forgiveness, let alone have any reason to beg. But this was different: You were different.

The line clicked as you picked up. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say.

Shockwave cleared his throat. “Hello,” he started. Greetings were a safe start. “How are you?”

“Shockwave. . .” Your voice was weary.

Fear knotted in Shockwave’s tanks. “You do not wish to speak to me,” he rushed. “I understand. However, if this is to be the last we ever speak, I wish to make my . . . feelings. . . known.” He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “My words were harsh, and I only realized that after you had fone. After I sent you away,” he corrected. “Yet I cannot seem to function without you by my side. I. . . shake. . . where once I was steady. And —as illogical as it may be— I have feelings which I can no longer deny. Would you forgive my harsh and unnecessary use of words if I were to mend the wound they inflicted?

You were silent for so long that Shockwave worried you’d hung up.

At last, you spoke. “You can’t heal this hurt,” you whispered. “But if you tell me more about these feelings you’re experiencing, I’ll forgive you.”

Shockwave would have smiled if he could. “I hope you can help me better understand them once you return.”

“I’ll try; for you,” you said.

#shockwave x reader #sfw #maccadam #transformers #transformers prime

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lix88888 · 9 months

Text

Eldritchtale: Error is a silly goose (who sometimes commits genocide)

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ was mad. This wasn't unusual, as he was often angry, but the object of his fury usually wasn't His Mate, the one Monster he cared for and who he would never harm.

It made him feel conflicted, and nervous: .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ wanted His Mate to be with him forever, never leave his side, belong to him like they were meant to, but he had been so obsessed with that Multiverse thing of theirs he had gotten from that weird mortal.

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ didn't like that at all. His Mate was spending so much time with his Multiverse, and that was time they weren't spending with HIM! It was unacceptable!

His Mate was being uncharacteristically stubborn about this, even forbidding him from entering the stupid Multiverse unless he made himself a "body" like His Mate had. Bah! A "body", sounded like something useless and pathetic!

But His Mate had been gone for so long already! Millennia! The other Monsters mocked his clinginess, but he didn't care.

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ would do anything to be with His Mate.

Having decided to follow His Mate's rule, the Monster moved closer to all the mortals: ever since His Mate had created their Multiverse, a lot more mortals had appeared, just like the first one, the one who had enticed His Mate and made him leave: .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ hated him most of all, but all those others, too, he considered abominations and parasites. Still, just like His Mate had taken inspiration and made his Multiverse, so .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ would use those mortals as a guide to make his own new "body" (ugh).

He eventually found a mortal that seemed less awful than the others, and hastily modeled a body that would make him bypass His Mate's Barrier, before quickly jumping inside the Multiverse, where His Mate was.

It felt weird, and wrong, and unpleasant to have a body, to feel so constricted and limited (he didn't know how His Mate could stand it), and he was also a bit convinced he had made some mistake while building it (he dismissed the ridiculous thought as soon as it came up, the Monster was perfect, just like His Mate, and he didn't make mistakes).

"Hey buddy! Who are you?!" a voice shouted. The Monster would have found it annoying, if he hadn't recognized His Mate.

Even in this imperfect, insignificat form, he could always recognize His Mate, and always find him enticing. They were now looking at him with wonder and excitement, his pupils a yellow question mare and an orange exclamation point.

"You look so weird, friend! Wonder which AU you are from..." His Mate trailed off, coming closer and touching his face. It burned! The Monster flinched and moved away, snarling in pain.

"𝓓ᗝภ't tᗝ𝓾ᶜ𝓱 𝓂乇!(DON'T TOUCH ME!)"

He cared deeply for His Mate, but he was angry with him for hurting him. His Mate, however, simply smiled as his pupils turned into a star and a heart.

"Error! It's you!" "𝕎𝓱Ａt 𝓭𝐢𝓭 𝕪σ𝕌 נ𝕌şt 𝓬Ａ𝔩𝔩 爪Ｅ?!(What did you just call me?!)" His Mate simply snorted and came closer, making the Monster move away again. "Well, I can't just call you by your name, can I? These bodies cannot handle those sounds, this is the closest equivalent!"

.̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ resented this knowledge, but he had to admit that even thinking his and His Mate's name was causing him an headache (stupid mortal bodies) and so .̷̮̻͍̒̈́͌.̵͎̩̹̜̤͔̅̿͠.̷̡́̔́̈́͝ͅ , or rather, Error, begrudingly accepted the moniker.

"I go by "Ink", by the way!" His Mate said, putting one hand on his hip as he pointed their thumb at his chest. He then frowned (no! why was His Mate frowing!) and crossed his arms.

"Look at your body, it's all glitched! You did such a rush job! Mortal minds can barely look at it without breaking! I bet touch hurts you, doesn't it?" "ภσ!(No!)" he said, like a liar. "ι 𝓭𝐢𝓭 𝐢t σŇ ｐ𝕌яｐσşＥ, şσ t𝓱Ａt ŇσŇＥ σⓕ 𝕪σ𝕌я Ａᵇσ爪𝐢ŇＡt𝐢σŇş 𝓬ＡŇ tσ𝕌𝓬𝓱 爪Ｅ!(I did it on purpose, so that none of your abominations can touch me!)

Ink then smirked (making Error sigh in relief at the sight of His Mate being happy) and came closer, careful to not touch Error. "Oh really? Not even me?"

Damnit, Error had not realized that. Having His Mate so close was making his new body experience all sorts of pleasant sensations he couldn't wait to explore, but the thought of not being able to touch His Mate while he was inside his Multiverse was torture!

Ink's smile softened as he saw the conflict on Error's face, raising a hand to his forehead, almost brushing it, but still oh so carefully not making contact.

"Want me to fix that? It'll only hurt for a moment, I promise."

Error nodded, the trust in His Mate full and unwavering.

True to his words, Ink's touch only hurt as their index and middle finger made contact with Error's forehead, a shock that ran through his body and then immediately stopped, leaving him able to enjoy His Mate's touch. The Monster leaned into Ink's hand, purring.

"All done, Ruru!" The nickname sent a pleasurable shiver down Error's new spine "Though I only fixed it for me, wouldn't want my "abominations" to touch you after all!" He then let out a laugh, a cute little snorting sound that Error decided was his new favourite thing.

Ink's fingers then moved away (making him growl involuntarily) and a glowing blue rectangle with writing on it appeared before them; Ink started examining the text in earnest, and Error couldn't help but feel angry. His Mate had stopped touching him for that stupid screen! What was so important that demanded His Mate's attention?!

"Error, where did you get the inspiration for your body from?" "𝕎𝓱𝕪 𝓭σ 𝕪σ𝕌 𝓬ＡяＥ?!(Why do you care?!)" Error snarled, clenching his fists in displeasure. Ink didn't even seem to notice, too busy looking at the stupid screen.

"Its code is very interesting! It says that it belongs to an AU that doesn't exists yet, that will form only thousands of years from now! It seems like all of the people who get thrown out of this Multiverse's linear time for whatever reason, end up where we live, always having existed there! Isn't it amazing?!"

"ภσ! 𝕎𝓱𝕪 𝓭σ 𝕪σ𝕌 𝓬ＡяＥＡᵇσ𝕌t Ａ𝔩𝔩 t𝓱Ａt şt𝕌ⓕⓕ?! ιt'ş ᵇσя𝐢ŇＧ, ＡŇ𝓭 şt𝕌ｐ𝐢𝓭!(No! Why do you care about all that stuff?! It's boring, and stupid!)" "Aww, Error, don't be like that! I'm sure you'd like it if-" "ภᗝ! ι 𝓱ａt乇 ιt! ι 𝓱ａt乇 ιt!(NO! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!)"

Error felt himself grow so angry that his mortal body almost couldn't contain him: his form started seizing and decomposing, a flurry of glitches running all over his body in an effort for his true essence to break free and destroy everything, but Ink's Barrier, so carefully crafted, stopped him from doing so.

Eventually, he crashed.

He was frozen, and paralized, and blind, but he could still hear Ink sigh and carry his unconscious body somewhere else, all the while chiding him for his tantrum. It hadn't been a tantrum! And he wouldn't have needed one if Ink had just listened to him and paid attention to him instead of some stupid code that didn't even MATTER!

He came to after a short while, laid down on something soft, a bean bag. Ink was seated cross-legged in front of him, on a nest of pillows.

"All good Ruru?" Error snarled in embarrassment and didn't respond, averting his eyes. To be caught so vulnerable in front of His Mate was a source of great shame for him.

And yet, His Mate simply smiled softly (his pupils two pink hearts) and put their hand on his forearm, caressing him with tenderness. Error leaned into the touch, once again counting himself so lucky that someone so amazing as Ink had chosen him.

"What was that all about?"

And there went the sweet moment. Error grew angry again at the thought of the neglect His Mate was subjecting him to.

"You got very worked up, why-" "ι נ𝕌şt 𝓭σŇ't 𝔩𝐢𝕂Ｅ 𝕪σ𝕌я şt𝕌ｐ𝐢𝓭 𝓂𝕌𝔩t𝐢ѶＥяşＥ, 𝐢ş t𝓱Ａt Ａｐяσᵇ𝔩Ｅ爪?!(I just don't like your stupid Multiverse, is that a problem?!)" Ink looked sad, but Error ignored the small voice at the back of his mind that despaired at the fact, instead focusing on his anger at His Mate.

"Of course it isn't, you don't have to stay if-" "ａяＥ 𝕪σ𝕌 şσ ＥＡＧＥя tσ ＧＥt я𝐢𝓭 σⓕ 爪Ｅ, t𝓱ＥŇ?!(Are you so eager to get rid of me, then?!)"

At this point, Ink's pupils changed to a green spiral and a blue exclamation point. "Error, are you jealous?" "𝓂Ｅ, נＥＡ𝔩σ𝕌ş?! ᗝⓕ 𝓬σ𝕌яşＥ Ňσt! ιⓕ 𝕪σ𝕌 ⓌＡŇt tσ ＡᵇＡŇ𝓭σŇ 爪Ｅ tσ tＥŇ𝓭 tσ 𝕪σ𝕌я Ａᵇσ爪𝐢ŇＡt𝐢σŇş, ᵇＥ爪𝕪 Ｇ𝕌Ｅşt!(Me, jealous?! Of course not! If you want to abandon me to tend to your abominations, be my guest!)"

Ink's expression became frustrated, his pupils a red cross and a grey square. "I'm not abandoning you, that's ridiculous." "ᶜσ𝕌𝔩𝓭 𝓱ＡѶＥ ⓕσσ𝔩Ｅ𝓭 爪Ｅ…(Could have fooled me...)" "Errooooor!" Ink sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning back "I was gone only for a few millennia!" "t𝓱Ａt'ş Ａ ⓕＥⓌ 爪𝐢𝔩𝔩ＥŇŇ𝐢Ａ tσσ 爪ＡŇ𝕪!(That's a few millennia too many!)" "Are you gonna make such a fuss every time I go back here?"

WHAT?!

"𝕎𝓱ａt 𝓓ᗝ үᗝ𝓾 𝓂乇ａภ 𝑔ᗝιภ𝑔 ᗷａᶜķ?!(WHAT DO YOU MEAN GOING BACK?!)" he shouted, standing up. Ink looked at him in disbelief.

"I put a lot of work into this" he said, tone slow and condescending, looking up at him "I'm just gonna see it through. I'll keep coming back here till the Multiverse reaches its natural end." "t𝓱ａt'ร tᗝᗝ ℓᗝภ𝑔!(THAT'S TOO LONG!)" "Error-" "ι 𝕎ᗝภ't รtａภ𝓓 千ᗝ尺 ιt! ι 𝕎ᗝภ't ℓ乇t үᗝ𝓾!(I WON'T STAND FOR IT! I WON'T LET YOU!)"

Ink rose as well, putting his hands on their hips as his pupils became a red crosshair and a grey cloud with a lighting bolt coming out of it. "You "won't let me"? Please, elaborate."

Error knew he had fucked up, but his mouth ran faster than his thoughts.

"ι'ℓℓ 𝓓乇รt尺ᗝү үᗝ𝓾尺 รt𝓾ᵖι𝓓 𝓂𝓾ℓtι𝐯乇尺ร乇, t乇ａ尺 ιt ａᵖａ尺t!(I'LL DESTROY YOUR STUPID MULTIVERSE, TEAR IT APART!)"

And then His Mate would be back at his side, where they belonged.

"No."

Error froze. Outwardly, Ink still look as angry as before, but to a Monster was clear as day that now Ink was pissed, his True Form writhing and thrashing in a threatening display.

His Mate had always been powerful, even more than Error himself, but the other Monsters tended to forget it, as Ink never flaunted their prowess and strength.

Error was usually better at remembering it.

"This Multiverse is MINE, Error, do you understand? I worked very hard to make it, and if you actually destroy it all, I'm not gonna forgive you ever again."

And oh, how that threat was effective. Error could not image a punishment worst than His Mate forsaking him.

However, the mere idea that Ink might abandon him for such a disgusting abomination filled him with even more rage, so with a snarl Error teleported away and appeared in the middle of what appear to be papers floating without a care, but that Error can recognize as so much more.

In his rage, Error snatched one at random and ripped it in half, then again and again until the page is only confetti. The Monster was still not satisfied, so more pages follow the same fate.

This is next to nothing, this isn't destroying the Multiverse that Ink worked so hard to create, this is more akin to trying to destroy Mount Everest by removing a rock at a time, but it's still something against the hated creation that stole His Mate, and so Error kept doing it.

Eventually, Ink appeared to yell at him, to scold him and tell him to stop (his earlier rage is gone, replaced with irritation; Error may be doing next to nothing, but it's still ruining his delicate Creation).

Error didn't even slow down: if Ink really wanted to stop him, he could; as it is, Error destroyed even faster, wanting to keep Ink's attention on him.

Ink kept yelling, until they decided to instead ignore Error and start repairing the ripped pages. Seeing as Ink was once again favoring their worthless Multiverse over him, he jumped inside one of the pages, continuing his destruction there.

His mortal form wouldn't allow him to rip it apart as easily as with the pages, but Error is still the most powerful creature inside the Multiverse, second only to Ink, and so he began a chaotic annihilation of everything and everyone he laid his eyes on, with the ultimate goal of making the AU collapse in on itself.

Ink followed, but he, too, is limited by his mortal body and (to keep the illusion that he's part of the Multiverse and not its Creator) is forced to fight hand to hand with Error if they want to stop him.

The battle between Destruction and Creation starts.

Previous Next

=====

Just to clarify the deal with Error/Geno.

Canonically, Error is Geno, because Geno experimented with Determination or something else, and ends up into the Antivoid, where he then gets glitched, crazy and becomes the Destroyer we all know and love.

Here, in this AU, when Geno experiments, instead of being send to the Antivoid, he somehow ends up in the Place Where The Horror Dwells (aka the Void) but, due to the nature of the place, he kinda gets send back in time. As soon as Ink created the Multiverse, all of the people who would eventually end up in the Void materialize there instantly, due to the "getting scattered across space and time" deal, so Geno is there, even though the Sans that will become him isn't even born yet. Clear enough? Then Error simply chose his body as a template at random.

#undertale #ink sans #errorink #error sans #writing #fandom #utmv #undertale aus #eldritchtale #lix writes #my au #eldritch

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entamesubs · 10 months

Text

Yu-Gi-Oh! Go Rush!! Episode 64 Sub Release

Torrent

Support us on ko-fi

Please make sure to read the FAQ if you have any questions.

Below are translation notes, so spoilers ahead.

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不甲斐ない / fugainai "worthless”

I do want to emphasize this, because when Yuudias says that he lost his friends because he was ‘worthless’ - he fully means it. It doesn’t translate to not being “good enough” or “strong enough” or anything meant to imply he was lacking in a skill.

No, Yuudias full on called himself useless, pathetic, and worthless. That’s what this word means. He was truly blaming himself for everything.

親友 / shinyuu “best friend”

This is more akin to a level of best friend that’s above what is usual. Like if someone was your “friend-soulmate” in a sense.

The Legend of the Crane Wife / Tsuru no Onegaeshi

When Tremolo stumbles upon Phaser in the middle of the night working over a loom, this is a direct reference to a Japanese myth known as The Legend of the Crane Wife.

There are a lot of variations of this story, as usual, but I’ll recount the one I’m most familiar with:

A human man saves a crane from a trap. In gratitude, the crane turns into a beautiful woman and shows up at his doorstep to become his wife. The man, not knowing that this woman is the crane he saved, welcomes her into his home, but tells her that he is not wealthy, and that she would not live a lavish life with him. The woman says she has a way to make money and to not worry about it.

They live for several years together, and the crane wife makes many beautiful kimonos for the man to sell at the market, which in turn makes them wealthy. However, she looks thinner and more sickly every time she completes one. When she works, she always does it in the middle of the night, and tells the man to never look inside the room.

One day, the man is overcome by his curiosity, and looks into the room. Working over the loom is not a human woman, but a beautiful crane, who plucks her own feathers in order to weave the beautiful kimonos.

The crane, upon being discovered, tells the man that she cannot be with him any longer, and flies away to never come back.

As to what this means in terms of Tremolo and Phaser... your guess is as good as mine. I snuck some looks at Japanese forums and fansites, but it seems like everyone is also a little baffled as to what exactly it implies.

Personally, I think it was Phaser subconsciously trying to repress his space dragon blood for Tremolo’s sake, since he was afraid of aliens, but who knows. I still don’t understand why he made those scrolls.

Perhaps this is something they will go over in the future.

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

Happy end of the arc once again! What a wild ride this arc was - but I had a lot of fun watching it! There was maybe only a single episode that I felt a little ambivalent on, but not a single one I disliked at all.

Phaser and Tremolo were standout characters for me, although mainly moreso do to their heavy Chinese coding. I have a certain bone to pick with anime consistently making characters with Chinese undertones the villain, but regardless...

I’m interested in learning more about space dragons in the future, considering they created the universe (or were there when that happened), it seems like!

Anyway, thanks for sticking by for another arc! See you for the next one.

#yugioh #yugioh go rush #go rush spoilers #ygo go rush #go rush #entamesubs release #E064

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motherphoebe · 3 months

Text

The Parting Glass

Annie Cresta as a career in the 70th Hunger Games.

Chapter 2:

previous chapter / next chapter

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝

Now is absolutely not the time to panic, to let myself fall apart so quickly is simply not an option. But, I’ve never seen footage from the tribute's goodbyes, I have no reason to worry about how I’ll be seen, so I walk across the hard floors and sink deep into the blue couch with my knees to my chest. It’s made of a soft, plush material I’ve never seen before, one that seems far too warm and unreasonable for District 4. Suddenly the door opens and my family, absent my father, are my first visitors.

Muriel takes the lead into the room and immediately sweeps me into a huge, tearful hug. When I meet my mothers eyes the air feels like it's knocked out of my chest, like when the ocean traps you under the tide, I know no resolution for this feeling. My mother joins the hug, I know that cameras await me outside this room, but the tears escape my eyes unrelentingly. This cannot be the last time I embrace my mother and sister.

“I love you my Poppy, you need to come home to me.”

She manages those few words before she bursts into tears. Suddenly I realize the position my mother is in, her youngest daughter, her baby, is being sent away to the games to possibly never return. Who will she wake for school in the morning, make tea with cinnamon for, ask for opinions on her crochet?

“I’m sorry Mom. Don’t worry, I’ll come home, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to come home.”

My voice is shaky and muffled in my mothers shoulder. I use my palms to rid my face of tears, and face the rest of my family. I clear my voice to ensure my next statement is heard as clearly as possible.

“I need you all to know that I’m going to fight. But if I don’t come back, please, please promise me you will all be okay.”

My efforts to clear my face of tears are useless, because as soon as I’m finished pleading, they seem to roll down my cheeks in never ending streams. I have no doubts that I could win the Hunger Games, but there have been years where even the strongest tributes don’t make it to the end. If I die, I can only hope their promise can bring me peace in my final moments.

“I can’t promise Annie. There is no way we could survive without you, but we know you’ll be back. You have to come back, my children will need their aunt Annie to teach them how to swim. You’re the strongest fighter out of all of us, you prove it time and time again in training. You’re smart, use your wits and the skills you’re good at and win this.”

Skipper stares at me with such a steady look I feel my tears are now over dramatic. I’ve never seen him look so much like our father. My mother and sister are far too inconsolable to respond, so I don't bother begging for them to promise me. I begin to reply to Skipper, but the peacekeeper guarding my door barges in, announcing that it's time for them to go. I grasp on to all of them, unable to accept that my last few moments with my family could be over.

“We’ll see you soon Annie, I love you! Wear the necklace in-”

Muriel’s voice cracks as she's abruptly cut off by the slamming of the door, but I heard enough to assume she wants me to wear the seastar and pearl necklace she made me as a token.

I hear my father talking, and then the door opens to allow him to rush in. Suddenly he's hugging me the same way he did when I was hurt as a young child. He smells like the sail boat as he always does, although it's not pleasant it is comforting. He places his hands on my shoulders, forcing us to be face to face.

“Listen to me Annie Cresta, you are the strongest girl I know. Do you remember when I first took you on the boat? You were younger than Muriel and Skipper, and somehow caught more fish than the two of them combined. I asked you how you did it and you said-”

“They like me because they know I’m a mermaid, so they wanted to help me beat Muriel and Skip” I finish his sentance, the memory brings a genuine smile to my face. I was so excited to finally be old enough to join them on the boat, and also genuinely believed I was a mermaid with how much time I spent in the ocean.

“You are a winner Annie, you can do anything if you put your mind to it. You have eight years of training, you know what you’re good at, survive and come home to us. I love you so dearly, my sweet daughter. I believe you’ll do what it takes to win.”

His eyes become dangerously full of tears. I’m unable to think of what to do, I’d never put much thought into being in a situation where my father would cry in front of me. I bury my face in his chest so I avoid his tears and think about his words. Of course, what it takes to win means ensuring the deaths of those around me, including the death of my district partner, and life long friend Bodie. There can only be one victor. I’ve been given such little time to think about this, my initial shock is just now wearing off and the complexity of my situation leaves me winded.

“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes. I know I can win but, what do I do about Bodie? Dad I can’t-”

“And you won’t. Stay with him as long as you can. Annie, only one of you can come home, and it has to be you. I need you to know it has to be you. His mother wants to talk to you after this, I told her I’d ask you if that was fine.”

He chooses careful words, but the thought still causes effects deep within me. My body begins to shake uncontrollably. I decide now I won’t be anywhere near Bodie when the time comes. I think about Bodies mother, the kind and gentle woman who’d fed us crackers and jam after swims and watched us play on the beach and run from the shore. How could she want to visit me if my survival means her son's death? She must want to say goodbye, and I don’t want to deny her that. I nod my head quickly.

“Yes, please. Tell them she's the last one, I can’t talk to anyone else.”

He simply nods and holds me while we wait for the peacekeeper to say our time is up. I’ve always found I understand my father better than anyone else in my family, I believe it's because we think alike. We both stand here in a silent hug until the peacekeeper arrives again to collect my father.

“You’re strong, Annie Cresta.” The door opens and soon he's gone, and I’m alone. He says I'm strong like it's a fact, written in stone and one hundred percent true. I’m unsure, but I decide to believe him, I really have no other choice.

Mrs. Cormoran walks in shortly after, her auburn hair is tied up and her eyes are bloodshot, cheeks still wet with tears. She's just left her son's room, the only remaining person in her family, unsure if she’ll ever see him again, and now must bid farewell to her second daughter who shares the same fate. I lose my composure, hot tears run down my face once more.

“Come here sweetie.”

She holds me in a hug I can only describe as motherly. I have known her son Bodie my whole life. He’s always been there, they say we saw each other in the market one day and instantly became friends, playing with the rubber baits that hung off the fishing lines in the random shop above us. We’d beg everyday to play on the sand together, our houses close enough to one another to justify the walk. I haven’t seen him as much as I used to the past few years. His family couldn’t afford the extra fishing quota required to get Bodie eligible for training, which forced us to have a lot less time together. Our hangout time was reduced to our hours at school, the rest whatever I could squeeze in after training. When his father passed away in a fishing accident a few years ago, our time was cut even shorter than before. His mothers income couldn't afford to feed the two of them, so he started working any job he could, officially leaving school to become a fisherman. It’s an option a lot of the children in District 4 resolve to; there is always a need for fishermen and as long as you fit on a boat, you’re eligible. They say the age limit is 13, but I’ve seen kids as young as 10 walking to the docks in the morning.

Now I sit here with Bodie’s mother, knowing her son and I are headed into an arena where only one of us can return alive. The feeling of guilt weighs on me heavier than anything. How can I feel so comfortable saying I’ll win even though it ensures his death? Especially when his mother needs him, he’s all she has. I’ve already decided that I have to win, but if I can’t it has to be Bodie.

We simply stand here silently in our tearful hug until the door opens, and Mrs. Cormoran is being swiftly let out. I run to her and grab her hand before the peacekeepers begin to drag her out.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

They’re simple words that I hope will bring her the comfort she needs.

Now I stand here alone. I wipe my cheeks and take a few deep breaths while I stare out of the huge windows directly to the sea. Tonight my friends will be out there swimming, finally able to breathe knowing they are safe from one more year of the games. My sister will probably drag her husband to our family's house, and spend the night in our old shared bedroom. If it weren’t so hot out I'm sure all the windows would be closed shut, forcing the outside world to be as closed off as possible. My mother would be boiling mint on the broken down stove and preparing for a sleepless night.

What did I mean when I said I’d do everything I could? One of the first things they tell us in academy is that our actions on camera are extremely important. Once I heard that, I started to notice that the most well liked tribute every year is almost shaped into a character, someone that is relatable to the audience. What I don’t know is if that's something we decide now, or once we are with our mentors. I know without a doubt that I looked like a fool at the reaping, my lack of realization is surely going to make me look unaware to everyone who watches it. Is that something I can work with? I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen anyone play dumb before in the games I’ve studied. It doesn't matter because I didn't think to commit to it, I held my head high after and only faltered slightly when Bodies name was called.

I have never seen the tributes hug instead of shaking hands though, but that wasn’t part of my plan. I couldn’t do anything else once I saw the look in his eyes. That will definitely be on the replay, maybe even talked about by Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith for a while before moving onto District 5.

Although it’s a horrific thought, I might be able to use Bodie being my district partner to my advantage. It's disgusting, despicable even, but if I make it clear that I’m more prepared than Bodie, take him under my wing and train him, it would make both of us stand out, and show how capable I am. As much as it feels wrong, It’s not an awful plan. I’d be doing this all anyway, and I could get the two of us possible sponsor gifts while I’m at it. I hate the direction my thoughts have gone.

The heat in the room is becoming unbearable, the constant pacing I’m doing doesn’t help either, and after checking for the 3rd time, I’m completely sure these huge windows do not open. The walls feel like they're closing in on me. I think I’ve spent an eternity here, thinking about who I should be and how I will act, two things I’ve never put so much thought into, it usually comes to me easily. If I had been sat down last night and asked these questions, I might have been able to answer.

I’m Annie Cresta, the third child of Catriona and Kieran Cresta. I love my family and friends, helping people, watching my sister weave, my brother's wife and her piglets, being under the waves and hearing them crash above, diving deep and finding beautiful shells, my mothers face when I bring them home. I think I can be kind and outgoing, but I also like to be alone. My dad says I put a lot of effort into caring about the people around me. I know I do well in the literature parts of school, but poor in mathematics. This is true.

None of this seems important though, when I’m also trained to kill and survive the Hunger Games. Somehow I’ve overanalyzed and torn myself so far apart, I’m unsure how to put me back together. I spend a lot of time alone with my thoughts, but I’ve never been so destructive. I try to repeat the things I know about me in my head, but I don't have much time to decide what's true before I’m reminded that I’m in custody, and officially the property of the Capitol. I guess Annie will have to be a girl with a tear stained face and shy smile for now.

The peacekeeper opens the door and orders me to walk out, which I do gladly, the outside summer sun and heat seems infinitely better than the stuffy room that was slowly suffocating me. I’m led through a back exit, far from anywhere I’ve ever been before, and shuffled into a car. I’ve never been in one before, but I see them in footage from the Capitol all the time. I’ll admit, a car seems quite silly to me, one of my favorite things to do is walk around District 4, with the seagulls above and the waves crashing around me. I sit alone in the back for a few seconds until I’m joined by Bodie. His face is just as puffy and tear stricken as I imagine mine to be. His eyes are just as blue as they’ve always been, but he's no longer the 8 year old boy I imagine him as. He looks so tired and scared, and somehow, my heart aches more than it already was. I reach across the carseats, and pull him into a tight embrace, doing everything I can to comfort him.

“Annie.”

It's all he says but it's enough.

I can clearly hear the uncertainty in his voice, and it's like I can hear the thoughts plaguing his brain. His mother, how she’ll be all alone, if she’ll be able to afford life until he's back, if he comes back. The thought of Bodie never coming back reminds me he’s never trained, but no one could ever tell. He's got at least 7 inches of height on me, and although I’m not necessarily tall for a girl my age, he's one of the tallest people I know. Besides that, he's somewhat bulky, his years fishing have built up his muscle making his arms muscular and shoulders broad. He could easily pass as a training academy tribute, if we play that angle.

“I think we are headed to the train now, there's normally footage of this on the television right? Don’t cry Bodie, stand tall and strong, try and look tough when they’re filming us, trust me.”

I grab his hand and squeeze it firmly and make direct eye contact with him, something I’ve learned helps me get my way, although I’m sure he has no reason to object. He nods and I give him a pleased smile which makes him let out a breathy laugh.

“Did you forget that I know you quite well Annie? You don't need to intimidate me, I trust you.”

The car ride is short compared to the walk it would've been to get to the train station. Maybe a car would be nice for the treacherous hills that burn my calves. When we pull in, I can see the cameras and crew that await us at the entrance of our train, and squeeze Bodies hand one more time before plastering a smile on my face. Prisca emerges from the crowd and comes to collect us, her gloved hands lightly pushing my back. I'm glad I was already smiling, it makes it easier to hide the confusion I have for how she manages to wear the garments she chose in heat like this.

I act like I’m barely affected by the unusual amount of attention I’m getting, I even find myself waving and saying hello to people trying to get my attention. I wonder where they came from, and why they yell my name at me like that, but keep a pleasant smile on regardless. I think Bodie does great as well but I’m unsure, Prisca made him walk behind me, something about him covering me from the cameras on the left.

Once we enter the train, I’m immediately taken back by how luxurious the cart I’m in is. The floors are made of a deep blue plush carpet, much like the couch was in the justice building. Almost everything is accented in gold or silver, the walls are riddled with delicate swirls that look like a wave crashing. It takes a lot of effort to not let my mouth drop wide open, instead I keep my smile and look around. I’m very enthralled by the hanging lights that are somehow encased in crystal when Prisca pipes up, reminding me I’m not alone.

“You both may go to your rooms! I’ll call you for dinner, but if you’re feeling chatty before that we will all be in the second cart!”

She clasps her hands together and bounces away as she goes to speak to the crowd of people outside, not giving me enough time to ask how I’m supposed to know where my room is. I look at Bodie and almost begin laughing, until a Capitol attendant leads us both to our temporary rooms.

When we arrive at my room, I thank the man and he almost looks shocked. Once inside I examine what my small room holds: a large bed, dresser and closet, attached bathroom with a scary looking shower, and not much else. I decide that I should probably wash off, seeing as I’ve sweat more than enough today. Plus I’ve never used a real shower before. Back home we only have a bath, and the showers at the beach, but those hardly count, they only spray the cold seawater right back at you. I remove my dress and fold it, and then decide it should probably be hung, it’s nice enough to be reused or sold if it's returned to my family. I take the orange bow out of my hair and clip it on the neckline of the dress, but I keep my necklace around my neck. When Muriel sells her jewelry to the people at the market she always makes sure to include how they don't tarnish in water, unlike the beams of the peacekeeper towers that overlook the sea we fish in, as if anyone would look at her work and question its quality.

I press multiple wrong buttons on the shower before I finally figure out how to start the water. It's coming out of 4 spouts, and is almost freezing cold, but if I close my eyes I can pretend I’m standing in the showers on the beach. That is until I breathe in and smell the citrusy soap that I accidentally sprayed on the wall and acknowledge the lack of waves, but I still allow myself to live in the little fantasy for a while.

Once the freezing water begins to make my teeth chatter, I decide it's best I end my shower. The buttons and products are better labeled outside of the shower; I press one that instantly dries me off, and then use a balm that untangles my hair and makes it fully dry in under a minute. When I look in the mirror I’m actually quite impressed, my hair falls on my back silky smooth, the usual curl looking bouncier than normal.

The closet is full of brand new clothes, they all seem to be my size, but they are definitely not my style. I run my hands through the silky, freshly washed clothes and decide on a simple pair of pants and a shirt. There's no use in wearing anything cute, no cameras will see me until we arrive at the Capitol, and by then I should know what look I want to achieve. Maybe at dinner I’ll talk to my mentor about-

I didn't realize until right now that I completely spaced out when they announced this year's mentors. I think I was staring at the back of Eimears head wondering if she knew her hair band had broken. If I decide to play dumb, I really won't have to play at all. I roll my eyes at myself and consider going to Bodies room, or even the dining cart early, but ultimately I lay on the soft sheets of my bed and let them engulf me along with my thoughts.

Although I didn’t volunteer, maybe I can act like I was planning to since I’m already eighteen. It’ll make me look less scared, which will be of utmost importance when Bodie and I meet the tributes from Districts 1 and 2.

I know deep down I should keep strategizing, but my mind races quicker than the tide recedes, and I start to think about useless things to comfort myself. How many times could I press the buttons in the shower before the soap runs out? Where do they keep the laundry in a train like this? How will they get the sand from my shoes out of the thick carpet? I stare at the ceiling and drift away into my useless thoughts.

“Annie! It's Prisca!”

Her voice makes me jump halfway out of the bed. She knocks three times on my door, and then opens it immediately after before I’m able to let her in.

“Oh perfect you’ve showered! Dinner will be in ten minutes, I came early to tell you to change but it seems you already have! Goody!”

She claps her hands together and gawks at me like I’m a child just learning how to function, but it doesn't irk me, it only makes me giggle.

“Oh, you’re just precious! Don’t distract me with that smile Miss Cresta, I must inform Bodie of dinner as well!”

She bounces away and closes the door behind her, and I wonder why all her sentences sound like they're overly excited questions. I decide pretty quickly that while she’s unlike anyone I’ve met in 4, that doesn’t make me like her any less. Plus, I’m sincerely hoping her infatuation with me is because I’m interesting, not just the way she is with every tribute.

I sit down on the bed and braid and unbraid the longest strands of my hair until I decide just about ten minutes have passed. Somehow I make my way down the hall, through a few carts, and end up in the dining area. Bodie isn’t at the table yet, and Prisca is sitting down with only one of my two mentors. It’s Mags Flanagan, the oldest victor District 4 has.

“Hi, I’m Annie Cresta. I don’t think I’ve met you before, but my sister says you love her earrings she sells at the market.”

I extend my hand to shake hers, but she simply grabs mine and holds it gently in her aged palm. She’s one of the most respected people in District 4, I’ve heard she's the reason we bring home as many victors as we do.

“Mariel, right? With the blonde hair and big brown eyes and the tapestries?”

I can’t help but laugh at her mispronunciation of my sister's name, knowing that’s one of the things that drives her the most crazy.

“Muriel, yes! I barely have time to work at the stall with her, but I know she’s always buzzing with excitement on days she sees you.”

As I speak, a plate is placed in front of me, and then I allow myself to look at the array of food on the table. Different kinds of meat covered in colored sauces, fruits and vegetables I’ve never seen before, even drinks that have bubbles in them. I try to hide my shock, but sometimes I forget other people survive on a diet that's not mostly seafood.

“Oh! This is my favorite part! Annie, you can eat absolutely anything here! The Capitol has fine cuisine, you’ll see much more once we actually arrive. Believe it or not, this is the low quality stuff!”

She laughs, and I have to convince myself I’m not bothered at the way she's gawking at me, because I’m actually extremely excited to start trying all these foods. I just smile at her and begin with a piece of meat that's filled with a creamy purple sauce. It’s unlike anything I have ever eaten before, it has to be from a bird, but I’m having trouble figuring out which one. I’ve tried various meats besides fish before, and none of them were nearly as flavorful as this is.

Bodie joins us once I’ve tried most of the food, and I can't help but introduce him to it all, having second servings as I do. His reactions are just as entertaining to me as mine were to Prisca, and we both eat and laugh until we physically can't anymore. If the food weren’t so good, I could swear we were back home in District 4, I can see this in Bodies face as Priscas voice snaps us back to reality.

“Alright! They will be doing the replay of the reaping ceremonies in five minutes! Come come, let’s sit on the couch and watch! Leave your dishes!”

My stomach is as full as it’s ever been making the walk to the lounging area difficult. I sit on the couch next to Bodie while Prisca sits on an overly extravagant chair and turns up the volume of the television.

“There you are, I’ve made you a plate. Eat on the couch.”

I hear Mags behind me, and whip my head around to see Finnick Odair, only an hour late to dinner. The light circles forming under his eyes make him look tired, maybe he’d accidentally fallen asleep. It's perfect that he is our second mentor, he is the most recent victor and I know for a fact he’ll be able to help Bodie get all of the knowledge he needs about the games. When we make eye contact, his sea-green eyes look at me with recognition, and a slight smile that quickly turns into a smirk.

“I think I remember you, from training academy. Annie, right?”

“Well, that is the name they called me by at the reaping ceremony, isn’t it?”

My tone is playful, but Finnicks is one I can only describe as seductive. I can’t help but smile and hope the blush creeping onto my cheeks isn’t noticeable. Despite his demeanor, I know that he actually knows my name, and it actually feels like I'm joking with him the way we did as kids. I haven’t seen Finnick long enough to talk to him since his last days at the training academy. After his victory he obviously had no more need for it and when he moved to Victors Village he was no longer at the spots around town I’d always seen him at.

“Hmm. Suddenly Annie doesn't ring a bell. I’m sure you remember Finnick Odair though.”

Finnick ends his sentance with a wink and I figure his charming tone and newly signature smirk are something he’s adopted during his time as a victor. I roll my eyes at him and sit facing forward again, now facing towards the television. I’ve seen him like this on the television, maybe the women of the Capitol fall for it, but it does little for me, I prefer the fourteen year old boy I knew. Once the anthem of Panem begins, I take a deep breath while Bodie puts his hand on my knee to stop its bouncing.

Districts 1 and 2 produce their usual well fed, intimidating volunteer tributes. Particularly the boy from 1 is somewhat horrifying, not only does his size make him look years older than he actually is, his eagerness to be a tribute makes him seem especially bloodthirsty. The pair from 2 also seem to be acquainted, but not nearly as closely as Bodie and I. All together, the four of them seem to have their strategies down, I have not an ounce of doubt in their confidence and ability to win.

There's nothing special about the pair from 3, but when we get to 4 I hold my breath. I watch Prisca call my name and see my dumbfounded confusion. I don’t look as absentminded as I had thought, but anyone studying me will definitely notice. The hosts compliment the orange bow in my hair, saying that paired with the blue of the dress, it's sure to be the color palette of the summer. The bow just makes my heart ache as I think of my mother. I watch myself as I walk to the stage with my head high and my smile unwavering.

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?”

I jump at the volume of Finnick's voice, he’s now standing right next to me. He must have been extremely silent, I'm not sure how I was so unaware of his arrival. Was I even paying attention just now?

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t even know you were a mentor until you walked into this cart.”

I admit and shrug my shoulders. I don’t see the point in lying, if Finnick noticed my aloofness, I’m sure the other mentors and tributes have too. I’m sure they’ll keep track of how easily distracted I am and use it against me, and it won’t be hard considering how the back of a girl's head kept me entertained for half the reaping ceremony.

“Well you also didn't notice that I’ve been standing next to you for about five minutes.”

He shakes his head and laughs. I can’t argue with this, so I just shrug and continue watching the television. Maybe later on he’ll give me some tips on how to pay attention.

After the hosts are done talking about blue and orange, they show Prisca calling Bodies name. I can see his full reaction, and I’m relieved that he looks a lot more stoic than I originally thought. They cut to a shot of the two of us standing on stage, and I can’t lie, we look like an intimidating team, regardless of our emotional state. When they get to the end, they spend a while showing us hugging instead of shaking hands, discussing how it’s obvious District 4 has two tributes who know each other going in this year, and how they are just dying to see how this turns out. I turn to look at Bodie, he just stares at the television making a face I’ve never seen before.

It’s almost like when the children would tease him at school mixed with the face he made as he told me his father had died, but it’s not until his eyes meet mine that I am able to fully take in the disparity and disgust painting his face. Somehow seeing him like this hurts me more than what the hosts said.

“This is sick, I’m glad to know they’re dying to see our deaths.”

He scoffs, and although he says this under his breath, his words are venomous and laced with hatred. I figured one of his first thoughts would be how in the best scenario only one of us can make it out alive, but what I hadn’t realized was that he’d spent his time seething, not strategizing. I know that no words I say to him right now will put him at ease, so I pull him in a one sided hug and try to wipe my memory of the way he just looked at me before the feeling of dread swallows me whole.

By the time I'm watching the screen again, they are showing the tributes from District 7. I wasn’t fully paying attention until I saw the boy tribute can’t be any older than 13, and only has one hand. His partner is an older girl, and the way she looks at him makes me think she wants to protect him the same way I want to protect Bodie. I make a mental note to avoid them in the arena. The boy from 10 seems to have a chance but he trips on his way to the stage and the hosts laugh about that for a while. Districts 8,9,11, and 12 produce either young children, or kids that look as if they’ve never had a full meal in their lives.

Seeing these children with no chance is absolutely horrific, and knowing their odds against me feels even worse, but I will do whatever it takes for and I to survive, even if it ensures their deaths.

They never tell you at training that ‘quick’ and ‘logical’ thinking devoid of emotion will make you feel repulsed with yourself.

I’m able to let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding while Prisca shuts the television off and claps her hands together.

“Well! I think we will have a very entertaining game this year! We should arrive in the Capitol by tomorrow morning! I’ll be getting a good night's sleep, those cameras will still record you, even with bags under your eyes!”

She points to Finnick and then promptly exits the room. Bodie scoffs, but I can’t stop the giggle from escaping my lips, I’m starting to think she's always this bubbly and it's not just for the crowd. Mags bids us a goodnight as well, and soon it’s just me inbetween Finnick and Bodie, who’s looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m starting to think Prisca’s always that giddy no matter what. I know I've been bad at paying attention recently, but I honestly can't even imagine being as unaware as she is.”

This makes them laugh, and I see the ease slowly creep back into Bodies face. What I really want to ask is when do we start strategizing officially? I want to know how to act when we arrive tomorrow, and Finnick's opinion is one of the most important. But I refrain, not only for Bodies sake, but because there is no way for me to explain how I think we can work with the angle of how we know each other after his reaction to what the hosts said.

“Prisca is right! Wouldn’t want bags under our eyes on the way to the Hunger Games! Get some sleep Annie, you’re starting to look scary!”

Bodie attempts an impression of Prisca, and although hes being sarcastic it’s something I could imagine her saying. He gets up from the couch and tries to walk like her for a second before giving up and leaving the cart normally. It’s just Finnick and I in the cart now and once I’m sure Bodie is far enough away I ask what I’ve been wanting to the whole day.

“I know it seems like I wasn’t paying attention then, but I’ve been keeping track of everything. When do we start planning? Strategizing I mean, officially. I want to know how to act when we arrive tomorrow. I think we can really work with the angle of how we know each other. Because I want to be with Bodie the whole time, especially in the career pack, Bodie hasn't ever trained and-”

My voice cracks and I have to stop because tears are forming in my eyes. I quickly wipe them away, but when I look back in Finnicks green eyes, they are softer than I’ve ever seen them. He’s looking at me the way Muriel did when she said goodbye to me, like I’m a wounded and hopeless kitten, except it doesn’t make me feel that way. Somehow, I feel like he understands.

“How do I go into that arena with my best friend Finnick? I’m awful. I need him to be capable, not so he can win, so I dont have to die for him. He’s spent all day thinking about how awful this situation is and all I’ve done is think of how to make it work for us.”

I dont know what about Finnicks look made me trust him enough to say these things I barely even accepted I was feeling, but now my knees are to my chest and I’m sobbing. Maybe its because I know this conversation will stay between us, especially if I die within the next week. I go to stand up to leave the couch, embarrassed by my lack of composure, but Finnick places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. When I look at him again, he hesitates before he pulls me into a sidehug. Maybe my emotional spectrum is making him think I’ve gone mad since we last talked.

“You are not awful Annie. Don’t worry about any of that right now, you’re not evil for the way you’ve been feeling, and you’re right, the sooner we can strategize the better for you both. And about Bodie– You said he hasn’t trained before? He’s not as prepared for this emotionally as you are so of course he hasn’t started thinking from a players point of view yet. I think so far you’re doing great, and you have a point, the audience has already made notice of your friendship. He’ll benefit greatly from your expertise, and you will both benefit from being a team.”

I realize his voice lacks the charm he’d been speaking with earlier. These words come from the Finnick Odair I knew 5 years ago, the boy with a district 4 accent, not the Capitols darling who purrs just as posh as they do. It could be because we are alone, but I feel like he’s let his guard down with me. Even though he is one of my mentors, he did not have to genuinely comfort me, this is him treating me as a friend, not a tribute. By the way he continues to hug me like hes scared to touch me, I officially decide my random outburst has made him uncomfortable and try to fix it.

“I’m sorry. Thank you Finnick. I know you technically have to be helpful, but I appreciate it, even if I didn’t know you were my mentor until after dinner.”

He laughs and I can't help but notice his genuine smile, I decide I like it better then his smirk. I can’t help but blush at our proximity as I realize he truly has stayed just as sweet despite becoming quite handsome. Maybe this is how he gets all of his lovers in the Capitol, but that doesn’t seem right. They only show him as a smug man, who takes his lovers gifts and ditches them after one night, but the boy sitting in front of me seems too genuine for that. Half of District 4 would not believe me if I told them Finnick Odair held me as I cried, just out of the kindness of his heart, not for a lavish gift or an inexplicable amount of money.

“Technically, I just have to be here, I don’t really have to be helpful, but you’re lucky I like you Cresta. I have hope in you, especially if you can still throw knives like you did at thirteen years old.”

I feel the blush grow on my cheeks and feel silly. Although I used to be close friends with him, his statement of liking me gives me a feeling I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because of how genuine his words feel to me, like they are natural and take no effort for him to say, or because of how his sea green eyes stare into mine so thoughtfully, like he can see behind my eyes straight into my mind. I decide that if I win, I’ll put a lot of effort into making people see Finnick for who he really is. I’d also like to spend as much time looking into his eyes as possible, but nobody has to know that.

“I’d like to think I am. Maybe even a little bit more talented at throwing a spear, a couple of inches taller too. It’s weird because you look the same as you did at fourteen to me though?”

He gasps, feigning shock, then immediately stands and flexes his muscular arms and I can’t help but laugh. He throws on his smirk again, and shows off his growth in various ways, at one point even rubbing his hands over an obviously bare chin as if theres a beard.

“Go to bed boy, enough of that.”

Mags waddles into the cart, her bathrobe drags on the floor as she approaches the hot tea. Finnick puts his hand up to salute while her back is to us, but as soon as she turns he immediately puts his hand down.

“Yes ma'am! I mean Mags! We’ll go to bed now, sorry.”

His sentence starts with a cocky tone, but when she gives him an unamused face, he backs down. I try to contain my laughter at how he just acted, just like Muriel did when she’d try to get Skip in trouble not knowing my parents would just make them both do chores.

“She really put you in your place, huh?”

I whisper as we rush down to the cart where my bedroom is located. Finnick doesn't respond until we reach my door.

“Yeah she does that. She’s more like my mother than a colleague honestly.”

He wears a small smile, but I can see the pain he hides behind his eyes. I’d forgotten about his mothers passing, she was a lovely woman who raised Finnick on her own after her husband's death. Just like Bodies mom.

I walk into my room as he leans on the doorway. We just look at each other, and somehow it isn’t awkward, I feel like I’m examining him in a way I never have before, not recently at least. There is something so complex about him, the way he goes between his Capitol persona and real personality. I know it's important to act for sponsors, but this seems to go above and beyond that. I haven’t found an explanation for why he dates Capitol women, or acts so smug in front of Prisca, but it doesnt matter when he’s in front of me with guard down.

It’s like he snaps back to reality, he stands up straighter and takes his hand off the door frame.

“Sorry Annie, you should get to sleep. Prisca will wake you up for breakfast tomorrow. Goodnight.”

I barely have a chance to respond before he closes the door, leaving me alone. I’m glad Finnick is one of my mentors, I don’t think I could be in a better position. We’ll be able to come up with a way to get Bodie and I as far as possible.

As I begin to get ready for bed, the questions I’ve been ignoring become too loud to suppress. What would I do if it's Bodie and I in the final two? What would I do if Bodie tried to kill me? The worst thought is what would I do if I killed Bodie. I immediately hit my palm to my head hoping it will bring some sense to me.

I need to remain rational and composed, I can’t be thinking of these things now, not anytime before they happen. All I have to focus on is getting Bodie through training, into the career pack, and past the blood bath. We’ll have to separate at some point and there is no way for me to know when right now, when we haven't even arrived in the Capitol yet.

I’ve always been able to spend so much time caught up in my mind, especially on nights when sleep doesn't come to me easily. Normally the thoughts that keep me awake are harmless. If tomorrow will be hot, if they’ll continue the extended fishing quota, if my mother will make me run errands for her. I don't mind those thoughts, they don’t make me wish for silence. They’re nothing like my thoughts now about the inevitable death of my friend for my survival.

As I lay in the bed, I realize I’m starting to dislike being left alone. What comforted me just this morning suddenly leaves me spiraling and I’m horrified accept it, but, I think I have a new answer to my question from earlier in the justice building.

Who am I?

I’m Annie Cresta, a girl who would use her best friend being reaped to her advantage. This is true.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

thank you for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed this long chapter, if you have any feedback/ thoughts message me or leave a comment because i’m open to ideas and criticisms!! i literally have no clue what im doing i just have an idea of annie as a career and a dream ngl. i also uploaded this on ao3, my user there is the same as here :)))

#annie cresta #finnick odair #finnick and annie #the hunger games #thg #odesta #finnick x annie #thg fanfiction #the hunger games finnick #the parting glass #the 70th hunger games #ao3 fanfic

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beautifulsnake2162020 · 1 year

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Higher intervention: Aemond x FemReader (House of the Dragon x Sandman fanfic) Part 1

Disclaimer: This is a fanwork to show appreciation for the intellectual properties used. I also haven't read Fire and Blood and most if not all that I know is from the TV show.

Gif by queenage

Premise: Alys Velaryon, older twin sister of Jace Velaryon is the only member among Rhaenyra's children whom Aemond cannot completely hate. As their love story progresses, a newer and larger threat complicates things and reveals discoveries that neither the greens or the blacks had ever imagined.

So this is a spin-off on my main fanfic Beautiful Anomaly which is concluding soon. I personally don't consider this a spoiler for the conclusion of Beautiful Anomaly (since it's more of a manner of "how" than "if"). I personally consider this a standalone story since the story takes place in the distant future of Beautiful Anomaly. For those waiting on Part 8 it's coming out soon. I just need to release this from my mind so that Aemond can relax in my little piece of the dreaming realm.

Taglist (comment down below if you want to be included): @winxschester @memento-mora

Also tagging: @rinadragomir I know you're team black, but I really want to know if I wrote them in character 😅

The stars had decided to shine their light to a wanderer. Though he did not need it, he can do just fine whether he was taking his slow travel in their presence or in the presence of the sun. Chained to himself is the book which contained the universe itself, and all the possibilities explored in such universe. A subsection of this book contained details of the Dance of Dragons in a small dimension. The results of which lead to the deaths that only brought further downfall.

After such details, was the details of an experimentation that tested the extent of change and free will. An experiment that he must initiate for the benefit of all involved and to satiate his curiosity. Would this make any real substantial change to such that would occur? Nevertheless he is as dutiful as he ever was. Ever the observer, never the participant. Participants are only ever so focused on what is directly within their reach and influence. And it is from an observer such as himself that he must watch such experiment to its completion.

And as the book stated, this experiment would only help in developing her power.

"Take your time." He speaks from his hooded self towards you.

"You are only in the beginning of your development." You can't help but feel your heart throb in a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Everything will come to pass, everything in its right time."

You open your eyes.

You feel bewildered.

Glancing at the window you could see that it was dawn and the sun had just started to appear.

This dream was the clearest it had ever been and you didn't know what to make of it.

"Alys?" Your mother enters concerned. Her blonde hair was still frizzy from just having awakened. You were frightened for your new sibling in her belly and she shouldn't be rushing by your side when your sibling in her womb was making it difficult for her till his or her birth.

"I'm fine mother, just another odd dream."

"The same one with the hooded figure with a book chained to himself?" She takes a seat at the edge of your bed close to you.

"Yes, but this time it seems like he was speaking to me. He was saying something. About taking my time and everything will fall into place."

"Well" your mother puts both hands on each side of your head. You lean in to her touch and it always had a calming effect on you.

"Perhaps your dreams are trying to tell you to not worry so much on what you're going to do in the future."

"I just want to make you proud mother." You take a breath as you fell her thumbs massage the sides of your head.

"I feel like compared to Jace and Luke I'm the most useless one. My dragon egg hasn't hatched while theirs didn't take long to hatch."

"Alys dear." She wiped a tear that began falling from your eye. You hadn't noticed that you began crying.

"Listen to me. Just because our family prides ourselves with our connection to the dragons, that doesn't mean you are useless or any less important just because you don't have a dragon to ride." Seeing the doubt in your face she sighs and sits closer to you.

"My mother, the late queen Aemma didn't have a dragon. And yet she is one of the reasons why I am the person who I am now. Don't think yourself as so insignificant just because you feel you are lacking in something others have. Alright?"

"Yes, mother." She leans in and kisses your forehead as she helps you to get ready even though you have a handmaid to do it for you and your mother should be practicing more care. She was now in her ninth month and your sibling could begin to appear any day now.

You decide to spend your time in the library. Trying to find anything that could explain who the hooded figure in your dream was. The closest thing that you found was that it might be the Stranger. The aspect mose closely associated with death and the unknown. But none of the texts had stated anything about a book chained to his hand.

"Alys."

"AAH." You only realized that you had bumped your head when you felt the pain. And from what it appears your surprise companion also suffered the same consequence.

"Oh I'm so sorry Aemond. You startled me."

"I can feel that." He groaned as he has a hand on his head. But after a few moments of discomfort your eyes met with smiles on both of your faces.

"What are you reading in this part of the library anyway? It's so far from the window and there are barely any nearby torches or candles."

"You know me, I don't want go too far from where the books are placed. It's not my fault that the librarian chooses to store the books I need in this area."

"Yes but your eyes will regret that."

"Oh leave me alone. Are you going to join me or have you come just to annoy me out of my task?"

"And what task is that?" Aemond grabs a chair and a candelabra from a nearby table adding much needed light to your reading space.

"I woke up with the dream again."

"The vague hooded figure?"

"Yes, but this time it was a lot clearer. Last night my dream showed that he has a large book chained to him. He was a man. And it seemed like he was telling me something."

"What did he say?"

"I can't remember his exact words but he was telling me that everything will happen in its right time and that I was just in the beginning of something. That's all I can remember."

"Hmm, have you tried reading up on the stranger?" This was one of the things that you liked about Aemond. For all the time you found yourself a fellow outcast in the Targaryen family. No dragon, and having to find some other way to compensate. It was times like these that you appreciated his observant nature.

"I've already did but none of the texts mention about a book chained to his person."

"Maybe that part was a result of your imagination."

"If that's the case then what could the stranger be trying to tell me? Why would he tell me that everything will happen at the right time or that this is just the beginning of something-"

"Alys, sometimes dreams are just dreams nothing more."

"And yet Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys came here with dragons and a dream. How is this any different?" He raises an eyebrow before you hear a long whistle.

"My my aren't the two of you getting comfortable." Aegon chuckles mockingly as he leans against the edge of the book case. It was only then that you realized just how close your face was to Aemond's. Any sudden movement may cause your heads to clash again if you weren't careful.

"Brother." He says coldly. And it was then you knew it was time to return the books in their respective places.

"Oh don't stop on my account. I think its adorable that the only two people without a dragon are so close with each other."

"Your mother didn't approve of my mother's proposal." You say as a matter of fact as you return another book in its place. Frankly you were relieved that you didn't have to marry Aegon despite both of you being the eldest of your families.

You hear him snort.

"No offense to you Alys, but I prefer my women to be more developed than you are. A kid like you couldn't keep up with me."

"Considering what you like to do fun, I'm glad I don't have to lower my standards and make myself more stupid." You hear Aemond beside you holding back his laughter and tried to disguise it as a cough.

Aegon rolls his eyes as he leaves the two of you alone.

"You didn't have to do that for me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I did that for myself." You say lightheartedly but by the way Aemond was smiling you could tell he was nevertheless thankful.

"Then let me make sure I keep up with your standards by bringing you to your room." He places the last book back on the shelf as you blow out the flame from the candles he brought to the table. He holds out his arm to you which you take as the two of you semi-skipped exiting the library.

"So are we going take the ordinary way or your way?" Aemond gives you a smirk as he leads you into one of the many hidden passage ways. He takes your hand before the two of you begin running and laughing as you travel through the various routes of the hidden passages.

You finally reach your room, out of breath but with smiles on both of your faces.

"This is...where...I'll...say goodbye."

"Take...a...breath first. Hoo it's always fun travelling with you going to my room."

You both managed to calm down enough for both of you to say your goodbyes.

"Thank you for being with me today."

"Thank you for insulting my brother." You share one last smile with each other as he makes his way to his room and as you finally enter yours.

Had you known this was going to be among the last carefree memories before everything became so complicated, you would've done more with him.

First came the news that your biological father, Harwin Strong has died in a fire in Harrenhal. You don't know how long you've known, but for the sake of your mother you simply refuse to say anything about it and if you were asked if you were looking forward to being a Queen in your own right after your mother, you would simply say that the future is uncertain and that you needed to survive childbirth first. In truth while you did want to serve the people, you've felt that a part of you wasn't meant for the throne. Not because of the questionable nature of your parentage but for the lack of desire to engage in the politics at court. If you had it your way, you secretly hoped a third party would just be blessed by divinity and become the ruler. That way no more infighting will need to happen, and the pressure that the Iron Throne would have on this new ruler would be motivation enough for them to do a good job. You didn't like the taste of not being able to directly help people. Otto Hightower would always say that whatever he has done was for the sake of the realm. But you find it difficult to believe it when the people themselves weren't asked and all of his moves in court just simply seemed like a prideful powergrab.

Second a new development within you has occurred. It started by accident. You were simply by your window in Dragonstone when you found yourself sneezing. A spark came out along with your spittle, startling and frightening you. After calming yourself down you returned to your High Valyrian writing exercises but eventually noticed that the candle flame was following the movements of your hand as you write each sentence. You stop for awhile.

"Kelis" you say towards the flame as you direct your attention towards it. Testing to see if it did anything, you begin writing again.

It didn't work.

You were getting stressed and worried about how to make the flame stop following your hand when your brother Jace informed you through the door that it was time to sleep. You hoped your reply was loud enough for him to hear you and not enter. Your heart is relieved when you hear his footsteps fading away.

"How do I get you to stop?" You ask frustratingly. You couldn't risk any accident happening while you were asleep. Leaving an open flame as you slept was out of the question.

Giving up, you blow the candle's flame out before going to bed.

After that incident you were even more careful around fire. And you also had more motivation to carry around a napkin in case you found yourself coughing or sneezing. Less for propriety and manners but more to conceal the possible sparks that could exit you. It was already bad enough that people stared at you because of your evident illegitimacy in yours and your sibling's looks despite your father figure, Laenor Velaryon claiming that you were his true born children. You did not want to accidentally hurt somebody from the powers that it seemed you were beginning to develop.

In spite of the obvious drawbacks, there was actually a benefit to your abilities.

Whenever your brothers would end up with injuries from their training, you worked alongside the maester in healing their injuries. Like with how you first encountered your first two abilities, you didn't notice it happening right underneath your nose. You were healing your twin Jace, as he has a nasty swelling that was going to make him wince for a while. You decided to gently massage the nearby area close to the swelling. Whenever your mother did it for you it always made you feel better, it couldn't hurt to try. The maester was close by treating Lucerys, so if something went wrong you could simply ask him.

As you massaged the area, you began to feel his blood circulation slowly increase. Not to a noticeable degree, it was only later that you've realized what you actually did, but it definitely was a little bit faster than how it previously was going. It was only when the day after the day following that did the Maester did a checkup and was pleasantly surprised that the swelling has significantly reduced.

"My lord Jacearys you must have good health or good luck for the swelling to have been reduced by this much."

"It's all thanks to Alys. She's getting better at massaging people. Not like our mother yet but Alys is close."

"I appreciate that Jace." You roll your eyes in mild annoyance as he laughs at your reply. You turn to face away from him as you hide your shock.

You decide to test it upon yourself later that evening if it really was your newfound powers or if it's just your delusions. Placing your fingers on your non-dominant arm you begin gently massaging. Soon you could feel the energy in your blood, and an idea of how your pulse is currently beating. You make different movements with your fingers as you experiment with controlling the pace of how your blood circulates and towards which areas of your body. This energy, this force that helps you live, you're not sure what exactly to call it yet.

Had you known this ability would soon become very useful in your visit to Driftmark for an aunt that you barely know, you would have read more books about healing, and spent more time learning from the Maester how to heal injuries.

The incident that broke your heart and had widened the discord in your family.

You and Aemond didn't spend much time together in the funeral. He didn't know what to say to you. Your father, sir Harwin, was no more. How secretly you weren't mourning for the stranger that was your relative whom you barely knew, but for the father whom you have lost. The father whose only sin was to sleep with your mother but was a good man. When you were scared that your mother could die giving birth to Lucerys, and your father Laenor was with his own lover, he spoke to you of how no matter what happens, he will protect you. And how you've been a good daughter to your mother. Your mother was a woman with the blood of the dragon in her veins.

"If she survived giving birth to you and Jace, she could survive this." He says comfortingly to you as you cry in his shoulder as your mother screams out in pain.

And now he was gone.

You know your mother is powerful woman but you've never felt more scared in your life. Knowing the whispers at court, you were already aware of some people who are interested in you ending up dead simply because of your parentage, what you symbolized, or any other reason that was simply beyond your control to change.

And those things have now caused you pain in your bond with Aemond.

You could tell he was more distant than normal. He had always been dutiful to his role as a prince. But he still gave you looks of sympathy.

Not much words were exchanged between the two of you. You don't remember what you really said, but you vaguely remember offering to come to his room later to show him of your discoveries about yourself. He only nodded and told you that it'll have to be late in the evening since there was something he had to do. His last words to you was to make sure to awaken later and not turn your nap into a deep sleep. You were notorious for being a deep sleeper the moment your eyes closed. There were plenty of times when you fell asleep on his shoulder and he would need to shake you awake or ask for assistance in carrying you to your room.

"Maybe that's why you have vivid dreams." He once teased when you were still in King's Landing.

You were still uncertain if your deep sleep that evening served to your detriment or benefit.

You find yourself waking when the moon was full and the night was at its darkest. But as you grabbed your dark cloak, you were startled to see and hear a lot of people still awake. The atmosphere was tense and everyone was gathered around the main hall. You decide to hide yourself in an alcove that still allowed you to listen to what was going on.

That was until people began exiting the hall and you were nearly trampled as you hid in your cloak. Until ser Erryk found you and was able to protect you from getting injured. You know it was ser Erryk because you could see the black corded necklace on his neck. You don't recall who exactly gave him a necklace with a simple sigil of protection. His twin has always fancied something a little more bold and showed of his pride in serving the King's family. But ser Erryk was satisfied with a simple corded necklace.

"Ser Erryk what's going on?"

"Lady Alys what are you doing here? You could've been injured."

"I was going to meet with Aemond." You notice how tense his face has become.

"I don't think that's a wise thing to do my Lady."

"But why? What happened." He looks around before he brings you into a hidden corner and kneels down to meet your eyes.

"It's all a mess, but I will do my best to explain what has happened."

And it was through him that you've learnt that Aemond has claimed Vhagar and got into a squabble with Rhaena. Baella joined in to protect her sister. Aemond in the heat of the moment called Jace and Lucerys bastards, and the squabble resulted into Lucerys slicing Aemond's eye.

"N-No."

"It's true my lady. And just now the Queen has asked for an eye from your brother in exchange for blinding Aemond in one eye. She even ordered ser Criston Cole to do so. And when he was prevented from doing so, the Queen took matters into her own hands and using the King's blade attempted to do so. Your mother held her back with an injury on her hand."

"Oh no, but I need to see Aemond."

"My lady, it's safer if you return to your chambers. The Kingsguards who are allied with the greens are not so friendly to anyone from the blacks now."

"That's why I'm wearing a cloak ser Erryk, but it's important that I need to -"

"It's okay ser Erryk." You turn to face Aemond who was standing nearby. In a cloak of his own hiding his hair.

"I would like to speak with her alone ser Erryk. I won't hurt her."

"Very well my Prince." He moves to give enough distance for the two of you to talk but close enough to intervene if anything should happen.

"Aemond."

"You just woke up." The hidden meaning hurt you. And you feel yourself beginning to cry.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there to do anything." He sighs and walks to you in the deep alcove. He was like the stranger coming for your death with the torches flaming behind him. And maybe it was a death of some kind. A death of your childhood together.

"Alys, this is goodbye."

"But why? It's our families who are quarrelling."

"You know how I feel about your brothers."

"I also know how you feel about my parentage but why does it have to end between us?"

"Ah Alys don't you get it? Unless you switch sides and support my brother's claim for the throne it's not going to work between us."

"That's your mother talking."

"It's the truth."

"Does she hate me? Even though all I've ever done was to spend my days with you?" You begin to stutter as you can't hold back your tears anymore.

"She hates your mother, and I know you love her very much."

"Another thing we have in common."

"Alys, you're not making this any easier." He begins to raise his voice a little but even you could see him begin to cry from his remaining right eye. At this moment you wished that the two of you had been born under different circumstances. No interfamily politics, no possibly deadly assassinations, just the two of you together.

"May I see it?"

He walks toward you as you gently reach out and touch his face. Careful not to touch the stitches. You clearly couldn't try massaging it but you use the brief time you have to do your best to use the energy in his blood to reduce the swelling.

"It's gone for good. You must think me hideous now."

"Everyone is hideous when they are hurt." You feel rather than see him wince at your comment. You do your best to be as gentle yet as efficient as possible.

"Are you going to force me to hate you when I let you go?"

"I cannot force you to do anything. I'm telling you things you are blind to when you are around me."

"Are you going to hate me now?" He has no reply but simply bows his head down.

"If only you were born as my sister. If only you were born to anyone but them."

"But I'm not. What sin have I committed against you to hate me so?" No answer.

"It's getting late, we depart as soon as possible away from Driftmark." He pulls you in for one last hug before he reluctantly pulls away and runs to his room.

And that was when you truly began to weep.

For days, you acted like you were in mourning. You gave your brothers the silent treatment to satisfy some arbitrary punishment from your end. They have your mother to scold and punish them. You have your silence.

But even you can't stay mad at them for long. No matter how much time you spent with Aemond, all of you were still children. And they were simply only doing what they thought was right. You are still uncertain if what Aemond did was right or wrong, but the results of that squabble made everything so much more worse.

In your period of silence, you find a what appears to be a prayer book. Not for the faith of the seven but rather for some of the Gods of Old Valyria. It being an old book, which was hidden away in a part of Dragonstone, you decide to take it to further your studies in High Valyrian. You were not yet fluent in the language but it was better to start somewhere than not starting at all.

As you progressed in your studies you began learning more about the mere scraps of Old Valyria's religion. Merexes, the Goddess of marriage, protection, mothers and women. In the Old Valyrian religion she was prayed for protection and defensive strategies of war. Her spouse, was the God of the Heavens, aggressive warfare, rulership, and men. His name was lost to time. Their son, the God of fire, volcanoes, warfare of all kinds, mining, and blacksmithing was Balerion. From the texts it suggests that he was a rather popular God despite having no wife or main consort. Dragons were his sacred animal, and was said to have been responsible for Dragons being able to bond with people at all.

If there is anyone who could help you understand and manage how to use your powers it must be him. The God with seven faces condemns any type of magical ability (or so the Septas and the Septons claim) and so you doubt that he would be useful for what you need to do.

A week after your sixteenth nameday, was your first prayer to Balerion. You decide to do it in the common tongue since you weren't confident in your abilities in High Valyrian just yet. And besides, if he's a God surely he will be able to understand your intent at the very least.

First part, state the aspects of the God you feel the most important for your request:

"Balerion of the fire;

Balerion of the volcanoes;

Balerion the creator of weapons through the divine forges"

Second, state your plea:

"I have abilities that I do not know how to control, I do not have anyone else to turn to."

Third, state why you need the God specifically:

"Your domain is fueled by the most sacred of energy that has brought both enlightenment and destruction. You are knowledgeable in the nuances of such energy."

Fourth, what do you plan to do should this happen:

"Help me, Great Balerion, whose sacred animal is the Dragon. Help me, and I will help your people in whatever I can."

Fifth, saying farewell:

"Consider my plea, Great Balerion, thank you for hearing me."

You spoke this prayer as much as you practically can. Which meant at least once a week. But it seems your prayers are not answered. Nothing has happened except self-exploration and secretly testing your abilities when no one is around. Your faith begins to waver and soon you forget your weekly prayer. Life goes on and before you knew it, you begin to simply control yourself through brief meditation. The maesters have given you a small time glass which was sufficient enough to help be mindful of the thoughts you have and the powers you possess. It turns out this had allowed you to at least have safe control over your hidden powers and prevented them from having another accident.

At least that is what you hoped.

Around this time you've also began having even more vivid dreams that didn't make sense. There was an air of familiarity, like you've known these people for a long time. You resided in a grand castle, grander than the Red Keep or any of the castles you have seen in person. The front door was guarded by what appeared to be a dragon, a griffin, and a winged horse of some kind. You recall reading and talking in an everlasting library close to the throne room. How you seem to instinctually know this is a mystery to you.

Speaking of mysteries, sometimes you find yourself spending time with a man dressed in all black. You could sense he had incredible power over this world and everyone at least paid him respects as he passed by. Sometimes he alone was with you, and other times a beautiful woman with long wavy raven hair, beautiful deep brown eyes, and a voluptuous body, dressed in white with ever shifting patterns and colors that just seemed to make her even more beautiful, accompanied him to keep you company. Her necklace appeared to have a pendant of crow skull. And on his finger was a rose ring. You don't know why these things seemed significant but it seemed so. You are guessing she must be his wife since the way they are in each other's company reminds you of Corlys and Rhaenys. One of the few married couples who had a successful marriage.

"It will rush towards you." You recall her saying assuredly.

"When it does, just focus on your breath and what you have been doing for awhile. Otherwise you might get lost in it."

"Get lost in what?"

"You will find out soon Alys." The man says in a surprisingly gentle way.

It was one of the few things that you could still recall the moment you've awakened. You're not sure if this is Balerion's answer to your prayers. But you were thankful that you have at least someone among the divinity saying that you were doing well and to just keep it up.

Soon you recieve word from your mother and stepfather that you would be returning to King's landing. There was contention over Lucerys' position as heir to driftmark. Vaemond Velaryon seeks to claim that he has a better right over Driftmark than Lucerys and allegedly wishes to keep Driftmark within the Velaryon family.

"If he wants to keep it within the Velaryon family, why is he not petitioning on behalf of Baela and Rhaena?"

"Good point, you should tell Rhaena to say that. But nevertheless it is because he wants to embarass Lucerys and your mother." Your stepfather replies as you make your preparations to enter court.

"Father, I think Alys should be the one to make that statement. She's next in line after stepmother."

"No Rhaena this is something you should do."

"Alys, if you want to support Lucerys and make sure that Driftmark doesn't go to the greens, then you should make the statement."

"And I've told everyone in our eighteenth name day that I have no plans on actually ruling and so the next in line is Jace because I don't want to be involved in court politics." You find yourself catching your breath after you quickly try to convince Rhaena that you shouldn't be involved at all.

"It's a little too late for that I'm afraid. You'll have to learn to play it whether you like it or not." Your stepfather says, his tone one of gloom. He could tell you didn't want to do anything with courtly life and yet you have to.

"Is it too late for me too runaway to Essos?"

"I'm not sure you'll like it in Essos. You haven't developed anything that could help you survive there."

"But you'll love Pentos. They have an unfamiliar worship from either the Gods of Old Valyria and the Faith of the seven, but I'm sure you'll love it there."

"Pentos is an exception Rhaena."

"We still have our home there father, how about we ride there after all the court affairs have been resolved."

"Rhaena I don't have a dragon."

"You could ride with me."

"Rhaena, Morning is not yet ready for two riders."

"It's okay Rhaena." You finally reassure her that a dragon ride to Pentos was appreciated but is not feasible at the moment.

You wonder how Aemond has changed. Does he hate you now and now plans and assists in your murder? You at the very least know that Lucerys is in danger whenever he is in Aemond's presence.

And you couldn't help but sympathize with both of them.

You arrive at King's landing and the first place you've decided to go to once you've settled in you decide to go to the library. You began looking for any books concerning the Gods of Old Valyria. Particularly Balerion, maybe you've done something wrong that he has decided not to answer your prayers.

"An interest in Balerion the dragon?" You look up to see a man who seemed only a little bit older than you. Black haired with a bit of a stubble. He was attractive, his body (from what you can tell), was at the best midpoint between muscular and lean, his shoulders broad, and his hands big. Unsurprisingly he was at least a foot taller than you.

"Oh no, I am more interested in his namesake, the God Balerion. I've only heard and read about Balerion the dragon but not whom Balerion the God was."

"Oh? Quite the curiosity you have in exploring other religions when the God of the Seven is almost hounded on us here daily." You couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Let's just say I find the God of the Seven to be lacking in sympathy for who I am. And so I am striving to learn more about Balerion who might be able to help me. I'm sorry but I don't know your name good ser." He laughs and you couldn't help but feel your heart beating.

"I have many names. But you may call me Ion."

"A bit unusual for a name."

"I am someone unusual, around these parts at least."

"I see, where are you from and how did you end up in King's landing?"

"Do you have time? I might be stealing you from your duties here my lady."

"I do, as long as I don't miss dinner with my family I should be fine."

"And what may I call you? I would be at a loss if I did not know your name."

"Alys Velaryon ser Ion."

You two find a table and from your conversation you learn that he is a scholar and a warrior of some sort. He wasn't planning on joining the Kingsguard and yet he is not a sellsword. He was in the Red keep to meet the person who has acquired his services.

"You say you are not a sellsword and yet you are here to meet the person who has need of your services."

"My lady Alys I never mentioned that my services are that of a warrior. I am here in my capacity as a teacher for someone who had felt lonely for awhile."

You didn't know why this had touched you deep in your heart. The conversation ended there, but the two of you agree to meet again as he escorts you to your room to prepare for a dinner with your family.

"How will I know what hour you are available?" He smiles at you with a tenderness you never knew you were somehow missing. Almost as if you were being blessed just by gazing into his eyes.

"Trust me my lady. I will know when you are there." And then he leaves.

"Made a new friend?" Your mother asks as she sees you about to enter in your room.

"Maybe." You say coyly as you enter your chambers and you see your mother smiling at you with a knowing look.

Your days were filled with conversations with him to your surprise. A part of you was saddened that you haven't met Aemond yet. Or any of the main members of the Green faction. They may have seen you around but you may have been blind to them. Ion was there and had become your main escort around the Red Keep. You've learned that his interest in Old Valyria was about his heritage as well as his family. It was only up close that you noticed his eyes were a lighter shade of brown. In certain ways it was almost as if there was a hidden fire in the shade of his pupils.

Your conversations somehow was stirred toward the direction of how the Gods of Old Valyria may have wielded their power in their respective domains.

"They simply are. Merexes is the defense measure because her domain is to protect women, mothers, and the family. Balerion at his core is the fire that wields, that warms, and destroys. The Gods simply are, along with all their complexities of each."

"Ser Ion, may I ask your opinion...do you think Balerion did not answer my prayers because I am an unusual mortal?"

"Lady Alys, I believe he did not answer your prayers in the way that you expect. From what you have told me you have prayed to him to be able to control your powers. But underneath that, what you really are also seeking is a solution that would solve the divide and discord in your family and thus setting you free to be yourself. As you are, without judgment." You feel another shard once again pierce your heart as you feel the truth has been laid out on front of you.

"...You say that the Gods simply are?"

"Yes, even the God of the seven simply is. Even though the faith likes to exaggerate every now and then."

"Do you think, that it could work for someone like me? To simply be?" It was hurting you not to be able to tell him of your powers but you also don't know if he's secretly going to use this against you. Apart from Helaena by personality alone you are aware that there were talks of how unusual you are since you did not actively force your way into having a dragon. You were rather dull and someone who would rather spend her days in the library, in the beach, or in the garden.

"Yes, just see the parts of yourself in the abilities you wield. That is how I believe the Gods control their powers. It is why your mother is so admirable in my eyes. She may practice restraint and has to temper down and play the games of courtly affairs. But she simply is herself."

"Oh, thank you so much Ser Ion. You have no idea how much that has enlightened me. Oh I hope I haven't stolen you from the person you were bound to meet." He chuckles and you can't help but lighten up with what he says next.

"You're welcome, you haven't stolen me from anyone. You cannot steal what was never theirs in the first place. And you are more than worth any meeting I have had this far."

That evening, you decide to accompany your mother as she visits your grandfather in the evening. Tomorrow was the day of the trial, and if it was to be run by the hand, it would inevitably be decided in favor of Vaemond. Without your grandfather's help, you and your siblings by ser Harwin are doomed to be condemned in court. This was going to be your first visit to him, and from what you now see, his condition is worse.

"Hello grandfather, it's me Alys." You say as you sit on his right side and taking his hand. You allow your mother to take the side that was uncovered. As your mother pleads and talks with him, you do your own secret work by focusing on the energy that still exists within the blood. Compared to what you have experienced, this was far slower and it was closer to getting stagnant. You'll have to be gentle, otherwise you may accidentally start a war without even having met Aemond.

"Simply be." You tell yourself as you somehow give some of your energy into him. Encouraging blood circulation to areas that are crucial for him living.

"May I stay with him longer mother? This is the first time I've seen him."

"Of course darling. I trust you can find your way to your room?"

"Yes mother."

She leaves you as you go to his uncovered side and repeat what you have done. No one escapes death, but the least you could do is to delay your grandfather's death long enough for him to help your mother tomorrow. Slowly and ever surely as you gently introduce more energy into his blood, his breathing begins to be more normal than it was earlier. His pulse now at a healthy rate than the dangerously slow speed it was in.

That must be enough for now. If he can make it through the night, then you'll just repeat what you've done tonight to give him more strength to be able to assist in the trial.

You make your way to the Sedan that was adequate enough for you to lay your head as you began to sleep and restore your own energy.

You awaken not long after your grandfather begins to call for you.

"Ah Ahlys, you are still here?" His voice was much more clearer now than when your mother was talking with him.

"Yes grandfather I am here."

"Help me child. We need to go."

"Grandfather slow down." You immediately catch him before he fell over trying to stand up.

"Do you remember what my mother?"

"Something about a trial. Am I right child?"

"Yes you are grandfather."

"Then help me dress. Don't alert the servants, I'll dress simply. Your mother needs me."

"We all do grandfather."

You proceeded to help him dress, and to fasten his mask and delivered to him his cane. At first you thought you were ready to leave when he stopped you before you could help him out the door.

"Alys, go to the chest over there. Change into the violet dress."

"We don't have time for that grandfather."

"We do. It's important I...I want everyone to know that I want peace, and I need someone to represent that. It was your grandmother's favorite dress, and I just couldn't bear to part with it till now. Plea-please-"

"...Okay grandfather." You say as you make him sit as you quickly change behind the dressing screen. Putting it on now, you realize why it may have been grandmother Aemma's favorite. It was easy to put on while still being regal without being too grand. You arrange your hair in a simple half bun secured by the hairstick that accompanied the dress. Allowing your face to be seen while also allowing your own wavy hair to flow naturally.

The two of you make your way to the throne room. You pray to Balerion or whomever God or Goddess is listening that neither of you were too late. The Kingsguard offered to assist him but he refused them all and told them that you helping him was more than enough.

You were now on front of the doors. You hear some loud voices. You felt nervous, but your mother needed you. You take a breath before opening the doors.

Everyone turned to look at you. Otto Hightower was standing on front of the Iron Throne. Now is not the time to lose focus.

"And who might you be? We are currently in the middle of a trial and we would appreciate it if there be no more interruptions."

"I am a granddaughter helping her grandfather." You didn't pay attention to the startled gasps as you turn around and immediately assist in helping your grandfather walk straight towards the Iron Throne.

"That's Alys Velaryon?"

"Seven help me."

"I am starting to understand why Rhaenyra and Daemon didn't want her to be seen."

"I wonder what Aegon feels now that she has made her appearance."

"Oh I think we all know the real person we should be making that inquiry to."

"I wonder if they have already met in private, they were incredibly close before the incident at Driftmark."

"I can't read his expression, maybe he doesn't care about her anymore."

You block out anymore gossips that you inevitably heard and focus on helping your grandfather take his place on the Iron Throne.

"I will be sitting today Otto." He says before taking your hand as you help him. Along the way his crown falls and he nearly fell over reaching for it had you not had a steady hand and was insistent that he be seated first. From your periphery you see Daemon reach for the crown and reverently places it back on your grandfather's head. Once that was done, you turn to make your way down, but your grandfather stops you.

"Alys dear, please stay by my side. It'll be easier than having to come back here just to assist me."

"Very well your grace." He was acting as the King now and you carefully step to the side and turn to face the crowd for the first time.

It was also your first time seeing him.

Who else would have an eyepatch if not Aemond.

From where you were standing, he now towers over his siblings. And has now grown into a man.

Your gazes meet.

You couldn't tell what he was feeling. Maybe it's the distance or maybe it's because he has learned to hide how he feels. Both are reasonable.

"Before we begin, I'd like to say that my granddaughter Alys looks beautiful in the violet gown she is wearing. Wouldn't you agree Rhaenyra?"

"Yes your grace she looks quite wonderful. It fits her quite well."

"And do you remember this dress?"

"It was my mother's favorite dress." You could see Alicent's eyes widen.

"Aemma has always said that violet was the appropriate color for peace. It's a product of talented dyers and artisans to make such a vibrant color. And it is because of this cooperation that clothing in this color was almost always the best. To Aemma it proved that it was possible to rise above pettiness and to actually achieve what was best for the realm. I feel like this needed to be a reminder to everyone."

A figure in the distant corner of the room caught your attention. But you couldn't be too obvious as to who it might probably be. You fix your gaze straight ahead as you use your periphery to see who it was.

Ser Ion looked relaxed in his hidden corner. You may not be able to see his expression, but you felt reassured that what you were doing was right.

At the same time you could also feel Aemond gaze at you. You feel your blood rush. You're uncertain if it was because he has any ill will to you or maybe it was just out of curiosity.

Either way, you're bound to find out soon enough.

Bonus:

Before puberty.

Aegon: I am so glad I'm not marrying Alys, she's a dragonless twit like you.

Aemond: Leave her alone she's my best friend.

After puberty.

Aegon: FUCK she could've been my wife? Mother why did you reject the proposal?

Aemond: Leave her the fuck alone she's mine.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed this. I'm wondering if any of you have caught the seeds to the main conflict. Please leave comments or feedback. Thank you :)

#aemond x fem!reader #Aemond x reader #House of the Dragon #Hotd #Zaldrizo lentor #The Sandman netflix #House of the dragon x Sandman #Crossover fic #Sandman fanfiction #Hotd fanfiction #House of the dragon fanfiction #Higher Intervention

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