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flowerandblood · 3 months

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The Sin & The Penance

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, revenge motive, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge

Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight

Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard

Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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That night he could not sleep – he wriggled in bed, checking from time to time whether she had perhaps called him back or written anything. Although he had tried to reach her at least ten times she did not answer and he was afraid to write her a message.

What if she went to the police with this?

Maybe that's what he deserved, he thought after a while with regret, staring blankly at the bright screen of his phone, wondering if he should try again despite the late hour.

As much as he tried to find some logical justification for what he had done, he couldn't explain what had really driven him.

Admittedly, at first he was guided only by anger and spite, but then these emotions disappeared, replaced by a hot, dark desire that filled his loins, completely overshadowing his cool judgement.

Something about her brightness, her lightness, her joy, made him long to lean over her like the dark sky, like night over the stars, and cover her with his blackness, his emptiness, consuming and devouring her.

He had never experienced such a disturbing and overpowering sensation before and was horrified that he was prone to such thoughts and such actions.

He had completely lost his mind because of her.

She had asked him to let her go, so why didn't he do so?

Alys had always been eager for his aggressive, violent games, he knew that, and he felt no remorse about what he was doing to her or where, but this little girl was terrified, trembling all over with fear, and yet all he could think about was how desperately he needed to feel her.

Perhaps subconsciously her cheerfulness, her attitude attracted him.

Maybe after years of sadness and mourning he wanted to feel at last something more than grief.

He covered his eyes with his hand, sighing heavily at that thought, feeling a squeeze in his throat and heart.

He only fell into a restless sleep in the morning with his phone lying next to his face, and was awakened two hours later by his alarm clock anyway, which he switched off with displeasure, tired, sad and embarrassed by what he had done.

He couldn't look Daeron in the face as they ate breakfast together. His little brother looked up at him from over his bowl of his favourite cereal with milk – he knew he was about to start asking questions about her.

"When will Esmeralda come here to sew our costumes?" He asked finally, stirring the milk with his spoon, looking at the chocolate balls that floated on its surface.

He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to explain to him how much he had fucked up.

What he had done to her.

"I don't know if she'll even show up here again." He replied truthfully, Daeron gave him a quick, horrified look.

"She promised me. She promised me we'd sew them together and go to the ball." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears again.

He decided he wouldn't be so cruel as to let him believe it was her fault, though part of his mind opted for that.

"I know, but I hurt her and I'm afraid she won't forgive me." He said lowly, swallowing hard, fiddling with his coffee cup, not daring to look at him, his heart pounding like mad.

"What do you mean? Did you hit her?" He asked in disbelief, and he clenched his eyes, realising that in his childish mind the greatest harm a man could do to a woman was that he could slap her.

He was silent for a while, not sure how or if I should explain it to him, whether it would be too much.

"In a way. And I did something else, much worse. Against her pleas. I could go to jail for that." He muttered, covering his face with his hand, feeling that even though he hadn't eaten anything he felt sick to his stomach.

"Why did you do that? She's so kind. What did she do to you? Did you get angry with her because of me?" He mumbled through his tears. He felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that, like any child, he was trying to justify the adult in his head, deciding that after all he was smarter and more experienced than him, so his behaviour must have been because he, his little brother, had done something wrong.

"No. No, it didn't and doesn't have anything to do with you. This is our adult business, but she has the right to be very angry with me and not speak to me. However, I'm completely sure she doesn't blame you." He replied quickly, biting his lower lip.

It wasn't until he spoke it aloud that it occurred to him how pathetic, inappropriate and cruel what he had done was, how afraid she must have been of him.

Was she telling herself she liked it so she could somehow survive it? She decided to go along with it so she wouldn't suffer?

"Do you think I can call her?" He asked in a quivering voice, and he looked at him with his heart pounding fast, recognising in the back of his mind that it was an excellent thought, that she might want to at least talk to him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll give you her number, but call her from your phone. She's not answering from me."

He stared feeling the cold sweat on his back at his brother's reflection in the mirror driving towards the centre, seeing as he pressed the numbers written on the piece of paper on the keypad of his phone and lifted it to his ear – he heard the quiet beep of a call waiting.

He shuddered as someone answered, trying to focus on the road, complete panic in his mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Hello? Hi, it's Daeron. Can you talk? No, he can't hear what you're saying, we're just driving to the centre." He muttered, and he swallowed loudly, feeling a constriction in his chest from which he found it hard to breathe, trying to erase from his mind the image of him slamming into her again and again with the brutal, sharp thrusts of his hips.

"He told me that he had done you wrong and that he had hurt you very badly. I'm very sorry he did that. I just wanted to ask when we're going to sew our costumes." He mumbled out quickly. He felt his eyebrows arch in shame and covered his mouth with his free hand, resting his elbow against his car door, looking ahead in disbelief.

How could he do this to her?

For a moment Daeron listened to what she was saying on the phone with concentration and he was dying inside, afraid that she would explain to him with details of what he had done to her. After a moment he nodded as if he understood what she meant, he saw his face lighten a little.

"Okay. Okay, I'll ask my brother if he agrees to it. Bye bye." He said softly and hung up, sighing heavily.

"And?" He asked looking at him in the mirror, stopping in the car park, feeling like he was about to go crazy. His brother looked down at his fingers.

"Esmeralda said that after your argument she can no longer come to our house, but that I can come to her at the University. She said that the building is modern and wheelchair accessible, there are special toilets, lifts and everything needed. We could do my homework in her room in the dormitory and then walk around the campus, sewing and painting." He said uncertainly, glancing at him pleadingly. He swallowed loudly, feeling disappointed and at the same time understanding of her decision and grunted softly, turning off the engine.

"Would you like that?" He asked him calmly, and his brother nodded quickly.

"Then so be it."

Despite his requests, Daeron refused to tell him which of the boys had called him Quasimodo.

He said that it didn't matter now.

He thought with regret that his younger brother had more maturity and calmness in himself than he did.

Sitting at work he was all nerves, he had not received any notification that anyone had filed a police report on him, so for some reason, perhaps out of fear, she had not done so.

He felt both relieved and ashamed at the same time, unable to look at himself, thinking that he was not only disgusting on the outside but also on the inside.

When Alys suggested that they go to the toilet for a while he simply agreed, feeling that he needed to lash out, to expel the grief, shame and desperation that seemed to fill his whole body.

He turned her body violently with her back to him, thinking with fatigue that he didn't want to look at her face. As he unzipped his trousers he tried to focus on what he saw in front of him, on her panties lowered halfway down her thighs, her entrance sticky with arousal. He closed his eyes and grasped his cock firmly in his hand, giving it a few aggressive, hard strokes.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about her sweet moans, about how wonderful she smelled, about how tight she was, about her body convulsing in his embrace.

He got instantly hard, wasted no time and surprised his lover, who moaned with delight at feeling how direct and exceptionally violent he was this day, his thrusts full of desperation and aggression, his groans low and throaty.

Something was wrong – her insides were different, her buttocks were different, her scent was different, too intense, her moans too deep, too sensual, not as innocent and surprised as hers.

He pressed his lips together feeling he couldn't focus or get as much pleasure out of it as he would have liked.

"− shut the fuck up −" He growled speeding up but it was to no avail – when he opened his eyes he saw a completely different woman in front of him. He slowed down, swallowing loudly, feeling that nothing would come of it.

"− fucking bastard − ah, don't stop − what happened? − did I do something wrong? −" She asked as he slid out of her and fastened his zipper in a quick motion, furious, disappointed, humiliated, distraught that he wanted her, this little girl, her moans, her scent, her touch, her gaze, her tight, weeping cunt, being able to spend whole nights with his face sunk between her thighs, begging her forgiveness, muttering between the flicks of his tongue that he would make it all up to her.

"− no − I'm sorry, it's my fault −" He said lowly, not wanting to lash out at her. She grunted quietly, surprised, putting her lacy underwear and trousers back on over her hips, fastening them with a quick, nimble movement.

"− you seem stressed − something wrong? − do you want to talk? −" She asked softly, and he felt a kind of gratitude that she hadn't laughed at him or judged him, that she had acted as if nothing had happened.

He decided, however, that he didn't want to share his thoughts with her.

"− no − forgive me − have a nice day −" He said calmly, opening the cubicle door and left the restroom, moving down the corridor in front of him, clenching his eyelids, brushing his short, slicked-back hair with a quick movement.

What had happened between them, what he had done to her had left a mark on more than just her.

He felt as if he had woken up from a lethargy after five years, everything around him was sharper and brighter, painfully clear.

The next morning, according to the arrangements made between her and Daeron, he was to turn up in the car park outside the University from where she was to pick up his brother.

He dreaded this meeting, dreaded what he would see in her face, disgust, regret and bitterness, all the way to the place he felt like stopping and throwing up.

He felt a shudder and a loud pounding of his heart when they arrived at the agreed spot and he noticed her, standing between the cars dressed in a fitted strapless dress with daisies on it, her beautiful hair the scent of which he could still smell in his nostrils loose, trainers on her feet.

He stopped, swallowing hard, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, glancing at her – she stood at a safe distance from them and looked away, playing with the fingers of her hands, thoughtful and sad.

What he saw hurt him even more than if she had been staring at him with hatred.

He walked around the car and took out Daeron's wheelchair to which he helped him move from the back seat – his little brother beamed at the sight of her and began to move the wheels himself heading towards her. He saw with regret that she smiled warmly when she saw him, genuine joy on her face.

"Hi. High five!" She said to him cockily and their hands hit each other in the air, even though he was standing a few steps away she didn't give him a single glance.

"So, shall we go?" She asked encouragingly, and Daeron nodded.

He wanted to ask if she was sure he would be safe here, if she would remember to take him to lunch, if she would watch out for him, but he didn't dare, shame took his speech away.

He decided it would be better if he kept quiet and led them away with his gaze, then got into his car and drove to work.

He spent all day thinking about her, sitting over the case files recalling again and again her appearance, her pleasant figure, her warm face that beamed all over at the sight of his younger brother.

Why did she have to be like this?

Why did she have to be what he craved, the personification of his deepest, darkest needs, a ripe peach that someone had placed in front of him on a platter while he was starving?

When he arrived after work to pick up Daeron they both stood in the distance, said their goodbyes, and she turned away without even bestowing a single glance on him. He got out of the car, intent on helping his brother into the back seat.

"And how was it?" He asked lowly, feeling sadness and emptiness, anxiety and a strange tightening in his stomach.

"Great! We studied together in her room and then she showed me around the whole campus. We even looked in the classroom where the students were painting portraits and she told me a bit about how it was done. Everyone was very friendly." He said quickly, clearly excited and pleased. He swallowed hard, sighing softly as he folded his wheelchair and threw it back into the boot.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked calmly, returning to the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and turning on the engine.

"Yes, we had lunch in the university canteen. I could choose whatever I wanted." He said with satisfaction, a wide smile on his face.

He felt like asking him if she had mentioned anything about him, if she had anything to convey to him, but realised that there was nothing she might want to tell him.

She was doing this to keep her word to Daeron.

For a few weeks it seemed to him that he had locked himself in some kind of circle, looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, days during which he would see her, albeit only from a distance, her figure bright and graceful.

He wondered with pain if she still had the bruises on her neck that his lips had left and swallowed loudly, feeling ashamed that his manhood reacted to that thought with a strong throbbing in his trousers.

He had suspected it before, but now he was absolutely sure.

He was fucking mad.

On the day the carnival ball was to be held, he was supposed to drive Daeron to the centre and pick him up after a few hours, but he decided that it wouldn't be worth going home for such a short time and he would just wait for them somewhere off to the side without bothering them.

As he pulled up in front of the building he swallowed heavily, seeing her from a distance, already dressed in her Esmeralda costume, her dark, loose hair tied with a violet scarf to form a headband, bells tied to her purple skirt, simple black ballerinas on her feet, round gold earrings in her ears, clanking bracelets on her wrists.

However, what drew his attention most was her white, buff long-sleeved shirt, tucked into the the sea-colored corset under her breasts that wonderfully emphasized her waist, it's sleeves lowered so that her shoulders were bare, it was slit down in the middle, showing the bare skin of her chest.

He swallowed loudly, looking away, feeling with horror that the very sight of it made him hard.

He grunted, helping Daeron out of the car and moved behind him, guessing that she wasn't going to help his brother dress after all, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"You really look like Esmeralda! So beautiful!" Exclaimed his younger brother, and she turned gracefully raising her hands with a clink of her bells and bracelets, showing off her costume in all its glory.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Where's my costume?!" He asked excitedly, and she picked up the large paper bag that stood next to her feet and smiled.

"Here. Let's go." She said lightly without looking at him, Daeron immediately pushed the wheels of his wheelchair and headed after her.

He moved behind them, feeling like an intruder, looking everywhere but at her, trying not to think about the sight of her partially exposed back.

She explained to him quickly what needed to be put on first and how – he was impressed that what she had made really did look like golden armour, but when he took out the individual pieces they turned out to be surprisingly light.

He locked himself and Daeron in one of the toilet cubicles, helping him to change, his brother looking extremely pleased.

"Are you two reconciled?" He asked, clearly thinking that since she was speaking to him again she had forgiven him. He swallowed loudly, not knowing how to explain to him that what he had done could not simply be taken back.

"I don't think so. But don't think about it. Hm?" He asked softly and he lowered his gaze, disappointed.

"You look great. What a real knight you are. Come, it's time for you to dance a little with your beautiful Esmeralda." He said calmly, opening the door for him. He wheeled out into the corridor with a smile, his Esmeralda catching her cheeks with a wide smile of delight.

The sight of himself in the armour gave him confidence – it appeared that the whole thing had been designed so that he could flex his arms, elbows and wrists, the parts fitted together.

He thought with a pained grin that she had really made an effort.

"My knight. Promise to protect me from the evil thugs!" She called out theatrically and glared at him – he swallowed loudly, turning his face away in shame, his younger brother assuring her that he would not let anyone hurt her.

Too late, he thought.

For some reason, he felt tears under his eyelids, his throat squeezed so tight he had trouble breathing.

He watched as they moved ahead into a large gymnasium where the lights were slightly dim, a disco ball was spinning on the ceiling, Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper was playing in the background, children and their caretakers spinning around, dressed as various characters and creatures.

Although many of the costumes looked quite impressive, he couldn't take his eyes off her – as she danced she sang the lyrics of the song with theatrical devotion as if she knew them by heart, her hair, bracelets and earrings glistened in the light of the multi-coloured lights, the sweat on the bare skin of her exposed arms glittered like little crystals.

He looked at her leaning with his back against the wall with his hands folded in front of him, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, covering up what was happening in his trousers.

He looked around the room and noticed a group of boys looking at her and Daeron. He frowned, wondering if they were the ones calling his brother Quasimodo.

He felt some kind of satisfaction at the thought that they were watching his brother dance with a pretty girl.

He really deserved her.

Such a good kid.

He left after a while, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket – even though he hadn't smoked in months and was trying to quit, he felt that what was happening was too much for him.

His hands trembled as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his lighter, taking a loud drag, closing his eyes, clenching his fingers on the base of his nose.

There was only chaos in his head.

"We need to talk." He heard her soft, trembling voice and turned around immediately, taking a few steps away, for some reason terrified by her sudden proximity.

He stared at her with his lips slightly parted, his body froze still, his heart pounding like mad, his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

God, she was pregnant.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I can no longer take care of Daeron. I just wanted to keep my promise and go to the ball with him. I think he's had enough disappointments in his life and I didn't want to provide him with any more." She said shivering all over, looking everywhere but at him – he felt like he was about to vomit from terror and grief.

What?

"But…if I'm the problem, we can arrange it so that I bring him in a while early and you pick him up from under the main entrance. I'll pay you more." He muttered, completely surprised by her words, not knowing what to say, not wanting to imagine how his little brother would react.

She shook her head quickly at his words, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists in a nervous gesture.

"I can't. He reminds me of you. You two are similar in appearance." She mumbled and burst out crying, drawing in air loudly, covering her face with her hand in an attempt to calm herself. He looked at her in disbelief, feeling his voice get stuck in his throat.

"I haven't told anyone about what you did to me, because in his eyes you are his authority. I don't want to put him through unnecessary suffering, but I expect you to come up with something and find some convincing explanation as to why I can't continue to take care of him, Mr Prosecutor." She muttered regretfully wiping her cheeks swollen from tears, struggling to catch her breath, her plump lips parted, her eyebrows arched in despair.

He didn't know when he fell to his knees in front of her, when he clasped his hands around her waist, dropping his cigarette to the ground – he pressed his face to her womb, breathing loudly, feeling like he was going through some kind of panic, his lungs compressed, tears streaming down his face one after another, everything around him seemed to spin.

"− I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − I'm sorry − please, please, forgive me −" He mumbled hysterically what he had wanted to say to her for weeks – he heard her gasp loudly in shock, raising her hands in a gesture of helplessness, felt her place them on his shoulders trying to gently push him away, her stomach trembled under his face in sobs.

"− l-let me go − please, get up −" She whimpered pleadingly, but he shook his head – he thought he couldn't do it, he couldn't let her go.

"− I need you − even if for the rest of my life I will only look at you from afar −" He exhaled helplessly, sinking his nose into the material of her soft skirt, feeling her wonderful scent fill his lungs again, the warmth of her body that enveloped his face.

He didn't care that the people around them were looking at them like they were crazy, didn't care that perhaps they knew who he was.

"− I can't − I've tried − I've forgiven you, but I can't forget − you robbed me of my dignity −" She said in a raspy, broken voice – he felt himself whooping with his own tears, clasping his fingers at her back, his helpless mumbling ripped from his throat as if without the participation of his free will.

"− do what you want with me − fucking destroy me −"

"We needed to talk. I'll be right back." She said quickly, forcing herself to smile – Daeron could sense the tension between them though, his lips tightened, his gaze wandering from him to her.

"Aemond? What's going on?" He heard his brother's frightened voice and immediately rose from his knees, letting her go, both of them wiping their faces quickly, her cheeks pale and at the same time red from tears.

"Have you…reconciled yet? Has my brother apologised to you?" He asked uncertainly and she nodded and laughed lightly, something in her response made him clench his eyelids and swallow loudly – he covered his face with his hand, feeling that for some reason he couldn't stop crying.

You robbed me of my dignity.

"− y-yes − yes, we've already explained everything to each other, we simply got a little emotional − come on, let's go back inside −" She said softly and stroked his head – he smiled at her and glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" He asked, but he shook his head, choking out that he would wait for them in the car.

He locked himself inside in the driver's seat and put his forehead on the steering wheel, feeling an overpowering emptiness and this awful, terrifying chill, as if someone had gouged out his insides with a spoon like the flesh of a fruit, leaving only a mere shell.

He thought that he had died five years ago, on the day of that accident.

He only existed so that Daeron could live on.

He shuddered, as if awakened from a deep, restless slumber, hearing a knock on the window on his side – he glanced there and saw Daeron waving at him and his Esmeralda, looking at him uncertainly, terrified of his condition, dark night all around them.

He got out of the car, massaging his forehead, feeling a terrible headache, not being sure for a moment where he actually was or what time it was – in an automatic reflex he opened the back door and helped Daeron get in, he could smell her scent beside him, her gaze fixed on him.

"Are you sure you should drive?" She asked hesitantly, and he swallowed loudly, thinking that since the day of that accident he had never gotten into a car that someone else was driving.

"Yes. Shall I drive you back?" He asked lowly, not looking at her, folding Daeron's small wheelchair.

"No need, thank you, I'll get an Uber." She muttered, his younger brother furrowed his brow, looking at her worriedly.

"We'll drive you back. It's late, you shouldn't be going home alone." He insisted.

She sighed quietly and nodded, walking around the car, sitting down next to Daeron in the back seat.

He got behind the wheel and started the engine, involuntarily glancing at her in the mirror – their gazes met, her eyes sad and tired, full of a regret she had every right to feel.

He drove ahead, trying to wake up and focus on the road, looking at the lights of the cars passing him and thought that maybe if he had killed them it would have been better for all of them.

He grunted loudly, tilting his head back, leaning against the backrest, recognising that he had completely lost his mind, that he was sinking into depression and hysteria, that he had reached the very bottom.

It seemed to him that she sensed that something was happening to him – he was catching her on the fact that she was glancing at him uncertainly, answering something to Daeron who was chatting her up, talking about his friends' costumes. She was just nodding, pretending to listen to him, her hands playing with the material of her skirt in a nervous gesture.

God, how he longed for her to drive with him to their house, to go with him to his bedroom, so that he could kneel before her and whisper how sorry he was, how he wished he could make it all right, to slide with his hands the material of her shirt and her skirt, so that his lips could kiss her whole beautiful, warm body with devotion and adoration, her feet, her calves, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her face, her….

"WATCH OUT!" He heard her scream of terror and pressed the brake suddenly, at the last moment stopping in front of a crossroads where he should have given way to those driving on his right and left – a man almost rammed into them and started honking at them, gesticulating aggressively, opening his window and shouting, asking what the fuck he was doing.

He looked quickly in the mirror, feeling as if he was deaf, his brother was crying loudly, snuggled into her, shaking with fear, her eyes wide, staring at him in horror.

"… are you all right?" He asked dully, feeling like his head was spinning – he saw her nod quickly, and then suddenly he went dark in front of his eyes, his head dropped limply and hit something hard.

He was awakened by someone's conversation. He felt someone touching him, something pleasantly warm enveloped him – his body was lying on something soft and comfortable, he thought he was lying on the sofa in his house.

"− overwork, dehydration, stress, trauma − anything could have caused this, ma'am − when can his sister come? −" An unfamiliar voice asked.

"− his younger brother called her, but she only managed to buy a plane ticket for tomorrow −" He heard her soft, warm voice – he shuddered and opened his eyes with difficulty, wanting to see her, to make sure nothing had happened to her.

He spotted her blurred silhouette in the warm light of the night lamp – she was sitting next to him on the sofa in his living room, still dressed in her Esmeralda costume.

"− can you stay here until she arrives? − are you a friend of the family? −" Asked the man who was apparently a paramedic, packing his suitcase and pulling off his latex gloves. She nodded.

"− y-yes − yes, I'm his little brother's carer −" She replied calmly, the man and she both glanced at him when they noticed he was awake.

"− how are you feeling, sir? − you had a panic attack and fainted − I have given you intravenous sedatives and strengthening medications, you should feel better soon −" The man with the black beard, surely a few years older than him, said to him.

He grunted quietly as he tried to raise himself up on his elbows, feeling everything around him swirl and lay back, giving up.

"− fuck − I'm dizzy −" He muttered, his stomach sore and clenched.

She rose from her seat as the doctors left Daeron's room, sighing heavily in relief when the woman explained that he had only been scared.

"Aemond!" He shouted when he saw that he was awake, riding up to him in his wheelchair, wiping his face red from tears.

"− I thought − I thought you had died − you weren't moving − w-we couldn't wake you up −" He mumbled, and he hugged his head to his chest, closing his eyes, stroking his soft hair with his large hand.

"− I'm sorry − I'm so sorry − I've been working too much lately and I fainted −" He lied, swallowing loudly, his brother nodding his head in understanding, cuddling into him like a teddy bear. He kissed his temple, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

He thought he needed to pull himself together.

"− Esmeralda said she would stay with us until Helaena arrives − now it's up to us to take care of you − lie here and don't worry about a thing −" He said in a voice hoarse from crying and patted his head – he felt a tightness in his throat at his words, his eyebrows arched in emotion, he smiled involuntarily, feeling his lower lip tremble.

"− then I'm in good hands −"

He watched wordlessly as the doctors and medics left their house, Daeron showing his Esmeralda where she could find clothes to change into – she appeared a few minutes later in his long black hoodie reaching halfway down her thighs, her legs wonderfully bare.

She bustled around the kitchen with Daeron, trying to make dinner – he couldn't get out of his awe at what a harmonious duo they were, his brother talking to her without shame or embarrassment.

If he had been wiser, if he had given her a chance then instead of humiliating her, maybe now they would be preparing dinner together.

He rose to sit down when she brought him tea and sandwiches, thanking her meekly. He sighed heavily feeling he wouldn't swallow anything and although the medications were starting to work, he felt like his head was going to burst.

She only returned to the living room after she had helped Daeron change into his pyjamas and put him to bed. She approached him hesitantly and sat down next to him on the couch, not looking at him but at the floor.

"How are you feeling?" She asked quietly, covering her knees with the material of his sweatshirt.

He looked at her, silent for a long moment.

"Exactly as I should after what I did." He replied finally, not knowing how else he was supposed to call what he was feeling.

She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed in pain, regret and sadness in her gaze, but at the same time also some kind of concern.

He thought in disbelief that his fate mattered to her despite what he had done to her.

She lowered her gaze to her knees, fiddling with the material that covered her thighs in a nervous gesture.

"He needs you composed. Emotionally stable." She said sadly, her lips trembling.

He stared at her face unable to take his eyes off her, thinking only of how much he wanted to touch her, dreaming of her hugging him and locking him in her arms.

"I know." He said dryly, understanding exactly what she meant.

He couldn't be unpredictable, distracted while driving in the car, at work and on a daily basis.

Could not be distracted by her.

"Why did you do it? Then when I wanted to leave?" She finally asked in a voice quivering with grief, and looked at him, the depth of disappointment, sadness and emptiness in her bright eyes.

He licked his lower lip dry with stress and swallowed hard, feeling his heart pounding like mad as he stared straight into her face.

"Because I wanted to feel you. You were so sweet and soft. You were melting in my hands. I couldn't stop." He muttered at last, feeling with shame how pathetic that explanation was, thinking he was just a fucking pervert.

He drew in a loud breath as she slid the blanket off him and sat on top of him, pressing her buttocks against what was under his trousers – he wanted to grab her hips, feeling a rush of adrenaline from disbelief, but she grabbed his wrists.

"No. Don't touch me. If I feel your hands on my body I'll start screaming. I will tell Daeron everything you did to me and that you tried to do it a second time." She said with a seriousness from which his breath caught in his throat; he immediately placed his hands as before on either side of his body, watching in disbelief as her tiny fingers undid his button and zipper, his cock immediately swelled and began to pulsate, a loud shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

God, was she really going to do this?

As if in response to his thoughts, she spread the material of his trousers to the side and slid his boxers down, revealing his throbbing erection, twitching with lust, the head of it pink and glistening. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, swallowing loudly when he felt her grab it's base with a gentle flick of her hand and direct its thick tip between her warm thighs.

She had no underwear underneath.

She lowered herself onto him a tiny bit, barely sinking the fat head of his cock inside her, teasing him with the lewd click of her moisture – the sight of him stretching her slit and how wet she was turned him on so much that a low, helpless groan escaped his throat.

"− be quiet or I'll stop − do you want me to stop? − you didn't give me that choice, but I'm not that cruel −" She said with regret as he shook his head quickly, feeling how desperate he was to feel her again.

"− please −" He heard his own pathetic voice, not believing he was allowing it, but he no longer cared what she would do to him, he wanted to fuck her in any way she would let him.

He felt some relief at the thought of being humiliated, he wanted her to do to him what he did to her even though he knew she didn't have his awful nature.

"− what are you asking me to do? −" She whispered softly, almost tenderly, as if her superiority over him was giving her back what he had taken from her, her power over her own body, over what was happening to her.

"− use me −" He breathed out in a voice hoarse with emotion, saw that something had changed in her gaze, her lips parted in a shuddering breath.

He clasped his hands on the fabric of the couch and leaned his head back, gasping out loud as he felt her let him all the way inside her, his hard, fat cock throbbed aggressively with desire squeezed wonderfully by her hot, tight walls – he knew he was embarrassingly close to fulfilment and that she felt it too.

She put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over him, but not moving, waiting for his manhood to stop twitching inside her – her pretty, flushed face surrounded by her dark, shiny curls, her bright eyes fixed on him, her plump, swollen lips parted in a quickened breath.

"− use you? − mr. prosecutor wants to make me feel good? −" She asked in a whisper, her voice trembling with fear and arousal, as if she herself was shocked by what she was doing and by the fact that he was listening to her, by the way he was responding to her, by how much he desired her.

"− yes −" He mumbled out and closed his eyes with a low moan, feeling that with flick of her hips she slowly slid his cock out of her only to push it back in with a loud click of her wetness.

"− why? −" She exhaled, moving on top of him painfully slowly, her tight fleshy muscles giving him a wonderful squeeze each time she forced him back between her plushy folds, they both began to breathe louder and louder. He bent his legs at the knees, involuntarily tentatively responding to her thrusts with deep stabs of his hips.

"− God, don't you see that I crave you? −" He groaned low, with the last of his strong will restraining himself from tightening his hands on her buttocks and forcing her to move faster.

There was something wonderful about this slow agony, in the way she teased him, rubbing herself at the spot from which she felt the greatest pleasure, a sweet moan escaped her lips at his words.

"− are you always like this when you see me? − like you are now between my thighs? −" She mumbled in embarrassment, speeding up, their naked bodies began to slam against each other with splats of her moisture – he dared to buck into her harder, they both began to pant loudly, looking at each other with their mouths wide open, her lips puffy with desire.

"− of course − I jerk off every day thinking about you − fuck −" He muttered with difficulty, feeling the tickle and heat in his lower abdomen, his cock swelling with desire so much that he felt like it was about to explode if he didn't come inside her, their naked bodies slamming against each other.

He delighted in the sight of her throwing her head back at his words, her hot core pulsed hard around him, sucking him inside, her fingers clenched on the material of his sweatshirt, her buttocks slapping loudly against his thighs, soaking him all over.

"− touch me − touch me −" She cried out and he caught her quickly, one of his hands weaved into her hair and pressed her face against his, their lips joined in an aggressive, thirsty, sticky kiss, the fingers of his other hand clenched on the soft, firm skin of her ass.

They moaned loudly into each other's mouths as he began to pound into her like mad, almost not sliding out of her anymore – he embraced her and hugged her body to his, gripping her around the waist, her hands stroking his cheeks, his neck, his scar, his cock thrusting into her weeping folds twitching and throbbing like crazy.

"− fuck − fuck, baby, m gonna cum −" He babbled between the flicks of their lips, tongues and teeth. She gasped and came at his words with a loud mewl of surprise – he felt her moisture run down her thighs onto his lower abdomen, her muscles began to clench on him greedily, squeezing him wonderfully. He threw his head back and moaned in relief when he felt his warm seed spurt out inside her.

"− oh God − oh my fucking God −" He mumbled, experiencing such an intense orgasm for the first time in his life – for a moment he went dark before his eyes, he could see or hear nothing, there was only the wonderful hot pleasure spilling over his whole body, his hands clenched on her hot skin.

He hugged her close, snuggling her face into the hollow of his neck, covering their bodies with his blanket, not wanting Daeron to accidentally find them in this position, while having no intention of changing it.

He felt wonderful.

He stroked her soft hair placing tender, wet kisses on her temple, his other hand trailing reassuringly down her back, feeling that she was trembling all over with emotion, unsure as he was of what had really happened between them.

"− sleep here, little one − I won't touch you against your will − I promise −" He whispered, but her silence answered him – she breathed loudly along with him, lying still, his half-soft manhood still throbbing deep inside her.

"− I know −" She replied quietly after a moment, rising on her shoulders, sliding him out of her with a soft motion of her hips, his hands clasped helplessly on her thighs.

"− please, don't go −" He muttered, looking at her in horror, his heart pounding like mad.

Please, let me go.

"− I'm sorry −"

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

She rose from the couch, trembling all over, covering her thighs with his sweatshirt, his semen mingled with her moisture ran down her naked skin.

He wanted to touch her fingers but she turned and left the living room, hiding her face in her hand as if she was crying again, disappearing down the corridor.

"− I'll sleep in the free room next to Daeron's bedroom − I'll lock myself in − don't come to me and don't ever touch me again − we're even −" She said in a calm, quivering voice full of sorrow, sadness and emptiness.

He lay looking dully at the spot where she had stood just a moment before, feeling a squeeze in his throat – with trembling hands he slipped his boxers back on and zipped up his trousers, feeling tears of disappointment running down the sides of his face onto the pillow under his head.

We're even.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

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ranna-alga · 3 months

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I cannot stop thinking about Arthur and Mary and how truly tragic their love story is.

We know that a big reason why they couldn't be together was due to unfair circumstances. Despite Mary seeming internally conflicted about it all, it seemed like, at first, neither of them were willing to integrate themselves into each other's lifestyles and the consequences of that (Mary leaving her family behind and Arthur deserting the outlaw lifestyle), or at least in the first mission with Mary. But on the second? Mary takes back her word, almost impulsively, and says she is willing to run away with Arthur if it means they can be together. Despite the love and loyalty she has for her family (which mirrors Arthur's for the gang), she knows her family life will only continue to make her depressed, and being with Arthur makes her realise what she actually wants out of life.

And based on the implications of Arthur's words ("I want to. More than anything, I want to."), he may also be willing to even abandon the outlaw lifestyle. But he knows he likely can't. The one thing he fears the most is for the woman he loves more than anything else in the world is to be subjected to the violence that he is all too familiar with; he can deal with it if it's inflicted on himself as someone who grew up in such an environment, but Mary? He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her, especially when he likely already has an extreme amount of personal guilt for the deaths of Eliza and (especially) little Isaac, how he wasn't able to protect them.

But even at that, he promises to try. He's just as willing. He's willing to protect and look after her. He says they both need money, and he's willing to get it himself if it means they can abandon everything they once knew and start a new life on some newly-bought land. And what's so particularly painful is that you can just see the disappointment behind Mary's eyes at the mention of money... How, no matter what, money is always at the forefront of his mind, even if it seems valid on Arthur's end.

When she said "I'll write to you.", it seemed as if there was some hope left to be had on Arthur's end because at least they both have a chance now, right? But in my opinion, I feel like Mary was already mentally writing the final letter in her mind at that moment, and the time gap between that scene to the moment Arthur receives said letter was Mary desperately trying to put those thoughts into words on paper.

How must she have been feeling upon hearing about Arthur's death?

Imagine the life they could have had if things worked out. If they managed to run away and be happy together. Would their home be similar to John and Abigail's in the Epilogue? Would Arthur and Mary get married? What if they had children and Arthur got a second chance at being a father again, this time not being absent and being there every day, looking after his beautiful family with the woman he loves the most..?

Arthur deserved that life. Both him and Mary. And I think that's what made John and Abigail's ending in the Epilogue so much more impactful. Arthur may have died and Mary may have been elsewhere, but they lived vicariously through John and Abigail by living the lives they themselves deserved but couldn't have.

Hear that noise? That's the sound of my heart breaking.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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The Aftermath || LN4 {2}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando's new role of taking care of you is one he takes very seriously. Warnings: 18+ only, grief and loss, depression WC: 2.6k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

Lando felt useless as he watched you cry in your sleep, the quiet whimpers making him hate himself even more. He should have come by and checked in on you, he should have been a better friend. He had foolishly convinced himself that you were better off without his interference since all he did was remind you of what you lost.

He remembered how hard it had been to get back into his race car for the first time after the funeral and not see René in the McLaren next to him. It had been a gut punch that was more shocking to his system than the weight of the casket he had carried on his shoulder. Whatever loss he was feeling could only be tenfold for you and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Now he wished he could go back in time and save you from yourself, but all he could do was plan to help you move forward.

He grabbed a blanket from inside the ottoman and draped it over you, the very same one he used countless times when it got too late and he would crash on the couch after a movie night or BBQ. It was like a mausoleum of memories and he could feel himself tearing up as he walked around the room opening the curtains and windows for some much needed fresh air.

Stepping out onto the terrace he found the pool you had loved to swim in daily was ruddy brown and the once pristine garden that you had tended to was overgrown with vines creeping up the stonework of the house. Anger flooded him and he pulled his phone out.

“Why the hell did no one invite Y/N?” he growled when his team principal answered the phone. “She didn’t even know about René's memorial.”

“Look, take a breath, I know it’s upsetting but the FIA didn’t feel comfortable having her there after her accusations last year.”

Lando laughed humorlessly as he dragged a hand through his hair. “Uncomfortable? Fucking unbelievable. Of course they are uncomfortable, they pretty much killed him.”

“Lando…” Andrea started to warn him.

“I know, I know.” Lando took a deep breath. “Is there really a ‘surviving spouse’ clause in our contracts?”

“It’s not exactly easy to get life insurance for you guys, too much risk,” Andrea confirmed. “Look, I’m not going to say stay away from her, but be discreet, we don’t need to be pissing off the FIA right now. Pictures of your car at her house is not discreet.”

Lando frowned as the call ended and he opened instagram to see he had been tagged in a photo.

Only moments later did his phone vibrate with a What’s App message from his old teammate, Daniel Riccardo.

It was still daytime when you woke up on the couch to find all the curtains and windows open wide. Your neck protested the movement of getting up but it was quickly overpowered by the pain shooting down your legs and you remembered why you drank so much in the first place.

“Lando?” you called out, wondering where he was as you stood up on shaky legs.

You searched the house and found the carpet in your bedroom covered in foam cleaner to try get the bloodstains out and all the glass had been vacuumed up too. Other than that, there was no sign of Lando at all so you walked outside and followed the sounds of quiet cursing in the backyard.

“Is that a good idea?” you asked as you sheltered your eyes from the harsh sun and looked up at a shirtless Lando scaling an unstable ladder.

“Probably not,” he shot back, leaning out with a pair of clippers to cut the vines climbing the house. “Will it stop me? No.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into the garden bed and grabbed hold of the ladder to try stabilise while you looked around and saw he had already mowed the lawn.

“You must still be single then I take it,” you said with a shake of your head. “You never had this much time to waste when you had a girlfriend.”

“First of all, it’s not a waste of my time. And secondly, well, yeah, okay, I am single. But that’s not the point and not why I’m doing this.” He nearly lost his balance as he hacked at a stubborn vine and scrambled to cling to the ladder. “Maybe I’ll call an arborist. And someone to clean the pool too.”

“Stop, please, you don’t need to do any of that.”

“I know,” he said as he jumped down and used his discarded shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. “I want to.” He nodded his head back to the house. “Food’s ready, I was waiting on a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

You self consciously touched your hair at the comment and stepped away before he followed but he easily caught your hand.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a shake of his head. “Don’t shy away. You still look beautiful, and I am almost decent at untangling curls so we will tackle that whole situation after you have eaten something.”

“Lando, Lan, La-”

He shoved the spoon into your mouth with a laugh before dunking it back into the soup bowl and starting the aeroplane sounds again. “Here comes another one.”

“I’m going to shove that spoon up your ars-” He took the opportunity to get it past your lips again and you thumped him on the arm. “I can fucking feed myself. Give me that.”

You swiped the spoon out his hand as he doubled over laughing and before you knew it a foreign sound bubbled from your chest and your cheeks ached as a smile tugged at the forgotten muscles. Lando froze at the sound before a slow smile broke over his face as he sat back in his seat like he had witnessed a miracle.

“Stop staring, you’re making it weird,” you murmured as you took another mouthful of the surprisingly good soup.

“For a while I didn’t think I would hear that again.” He smiled to himself as he stirred his soup. “You couldn’t go a minute without laughing and joking over something stupid.”

“That’s because you and René were always doing something stupid.” His name slipped past without a thought but the moment it filled the room you felt the air leave and the spoon trembled in your fingers.

Your chair clattered backwards as you rose swiftly and covered your lips as if you could take it back.

You spun on your heel almost tripping over the chair as you rushed down the hallway. The back door you passed offered an escape from the suffocating weight on your chest but instead you ran deeper into the house, your feet flying as you spiralled down the stairs to the converted basement. You slammed into the door and it flung open as you burst into the space you hadn’t dared open in a year.

This place wasn’t just his, it was an extension of him. The shelves were lined with his helmets, his team shirts hung on the walls. The trophies in glass cases were dull and dust clung to every surface.

But in the cold, still air you could smell his lingering scent from the hours he spent playing on the sim set up in the corner. You closed your eyes and felt the air shift around you, feeling his presence enveloping you and chasing away the bone-numbing chill you had endured for 365 days.

“It’s finally real, Lando,” you whispered, knowing he was standing in the doorway watching your back. “When the house was silent I could pretend he was down here, playing iRacing or Gran Turismo. I could fucking pretend…that I wasn’t alone. If I didn’t call his name then I could pretend that’s why he doesn't answer me.”

Your vision blurred and when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your body you could pretend one last time that it was him holding you. It was the closest to a goodbye you would have.

“He’s gone.” You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat knowing what you needed to do but somehow no longer finding the thought as daunting as you once did. “No more pretending.”

“I’ll try be gentle,” Lando promised as he stood behind you, armed with a hairbrush.

He had poured a bottle of conditioner onto the bird's nest on your head and let it absorb for almost an hour before working up the courage to try and detangle it. While the conditioner was hopefully working its magic, he had helped to dust and polish René’s trophies, doing most of the work while you silently mourned the fantasy you had lived in.

“Just do it,” you ordered as you locked eyes with him in the bathroom mirror.

“Here goes nothing.”

Your neck ached and your scalp burned by the end, and there was a huge pile of hair balls he had pulled off the hairbrush, but finally he was able to drag the brush relatively cleanly through your hair.

“See, who’s the man?” he grinned as he flipped the brush confidently in his hand.

You rewarded him with a small smile in the mirror before turning and wrapping your arms around his narrow waist. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he said as his own arms encased you and he pressed a friendly kiss to your hairline. “Ugh, it smells like coconut but doesn’t taste like it.”

You laughed and stepped back with a wave to the door. “Go on, let me wash it out.”

It took far longer than you expected for your hair to finally feel clean but eventually you were satisfied with it and got out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your body. Your fingers automatically reached for a shirt of René’s when you opened the closet but something had changed in the basement.

You grabbed a handful of his clothes and pulled them from the closet, coathangers flinging off in all directions, before grabbing another and another.

“Hey, woah!” Lando skidded into the room thinking you were having another meltdown. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“If I keep them,” you panted as the small effort already exhausted you, “it’s all I will wear again, I just know it. I have to get rid of them.”

“Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly.

You sent him a peeved glare before opening the drawers next and grabbing the stack of sweatpants he had amassed over the years. “Yes!”

“Look,” he said softly as he raised his hands with the universal sign of peace, “why don’t we go and get some boxes, pack them up, and then you sleep on it before doing anything drastic?”

“I’m not going to change my mind, Lan.”

You did change your mind.

You woke up at 3am and sprinted through the house to the front door, tripping over Lando’s leg that hung off the couch and waking him up with one hell of a fright. He burst onto his feet after pulling himself off the ground and his wild curls swung as he looked around for some threat.

Seeing it was just you looking equally dishevelled, he grabbed your shoulders and bent his knees so he was at the same height. “Are you alright?”

“Tell me you didn’t throw them,” you begged as your rapid breathing sent stars dancing around your vision. “Please, please, please.”

“What? René’s clothes?” he asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes before pointing to the door on the other side of the living room. “Of course not, they’re in the garage.”

The relief was immediate and you sagged against his warm chest only to notice he had taken his shirt off to sleep. Clearing your throat, you straightened up stiffly and frowned. “But I asked you to dump them…”

“I know, and if you still wanted that in the morning I would have done it.” He sighed and took a seat on the makeshift bed he made on the couch despite there being plenty of spare bedrooms in the house. He patted the space beside him and you took a seat, the only warmth coming from his arm touching yours. “It’s going to take time, Y/N. Moving on doesn’t just happen overnight, even when you are ready to.”

“You sound like a shrink.”

His shoulders bounced with a small laugh and he fell back into the cushions, pulling you with him. “Mandatory counselling sessions, courtesy of Zak. Everyone got them, and I think it helped. Maybe you cou-”

“Don’t push it, just be proud you got me out of bed today.”

“Hmmm, but then I got you drunk.”

You looked up to see he wasn’t happy about that and you didn’t like seeing that look on his face. “But then you brushed my hair.”

A small sleepy smile grew on his face as he looked at your hair that was a little messy after sleeping on it but nothing compared to what it was before. “I always liked your hair.”

“I always liked yours,” you admitted as you eyed the curls that fell over his forehead. “I wondered if they were as soft as they looked.”

He tipped his head down for you and you reached up, running your fingers through them leaving ringlets twirling closed again. Even when you pulled one out straight, the moment you released the strands they bounced back into shape.

“Huh,” you chuckled as you did it again. “I thought you used hairspray to keep them perfectly curled.”

“As if I have time for that kind of maintenance,” he muttered drowsily as he closed his eyes and let you play with his hair. “That feels nice.”

“You’re no better than a house cat.”

He cosied deeper into the couch to get comfortable as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, his head falling onto your shoulder while you continued massaging his head. Just when you thought he was asleep, he let out a quiet, “Meow.”

Laughter filled the still air of the night and he peeked an eye open to watch you find joy for the second time in one day, a proud grin written on his face. “I missed your laugh.”

“Me too,” you admitted after feeling how light it made your pain, if only for a moment.

“I would go to the zoo and visit the hyenas when I really missed the sound.”

More laughter grew in your belly and you punched him repeatedly on the arm as the loud bursts escaped. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he gasped between his own fit of laughter before catching your hands and holding them above his head to stop your pitiful attack. “I just wanted to hear it again.”

You froze as you realised how close you were to him, your face only inches from his and his full lips so close to yours. Your heart stammered as his tongue peeked out as he licked his lips and you cleared your throat as you pulled away, shattering the strange moment.

“I’m, uh, I’m going to go back to bed,” you muttered weakly as you stumbled off the couch.

He looked like he was going to say something as he sat up straight but his lips closed again and he nodded, settling for a polite, “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Lando. And thank you again, for being here.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said as he settled back into the blankets and covered his very distracting body. “I should have been here sooner.”

You could have sworn you heard him whisper something more as you walked back down the hall.

“And I’m not leaving you again.”

Click here for part three.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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aspoonofsugar · 27 days

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RWBY Volume 9 Epilogue: The Five Stages of Grief Again

As @greenteaandtattoos's friend noticed, volume 9 epilogue has its five narrators embody the five stages of grief:

Negation - refusal to aknowledge the truth, while clinging to a preferable reality.

Anger - lashing out on others in an attempt to channel one's pain and frustration.

Bargaining - being ready to negotiate, to give something in order to avoid loss. When death already happened, it is about exploring what ifs scenarios.

Depression - sadness, desperation and refusal to engage with others. It often comes with low energy.

Acceptance - coming to terms with one's loss and finding a new stability.

This isn't surprising, as volume 9 as a whole uses this motif. In particular, Ruby herself goes through the 5 stages twice. First to grieve over Penny and then to face her emotions towards Summer. Finally, RWBYJN reach acceptance (the main theme). Acceptance of death, loss, pain, change and of themselves. All in all, RWBYJ's journey in the Ever after is a metaphor for the process of grieving. Well, the epilogue shows us how the other characters have been dealing with this emotion.

So, here comes NORWQ as the 5 stages of grief:

Nora = anger: tbf she is the most difficult to pintpoint, as she fits the pattern less than others. Still, her section focuses on how Vacuans and Atlesians are both reacting with anger at the new status quo. Vacuans are frustrated that Atlas brought its own problems into their Kingdom. Atlesians are furious nobody came to help them. Nora herself enters into a short confrontation with two angry Vacuans and clearly projects her own past into the conflict. What's wrong with orphans? What's wrong with her?

Oscar = negation: our Little Prince is the only one that believes Ruby and the others might be alive. He even looks for an answers into books (mirroring how RWBYJ is grieving through a fairy tale). On a personal level, he and Ozpin are both fighting the merge, so they are negating a transformation, which is bound to happen.

Ren = bargaining: Lotus boy is trying to replace Jaune as the glue who keeps the team together. He is conscious of everyone's feelings and problems, but is not sure on how to handle them. Moreover, his section deals with how Salem's faction goes through a bargain. Sure, it lost some people in Atlas, but Tyrian and Mercury free the Crown, so that new forces are ready to fight for the Evil Witch of the West.

Winter = depression: our Winter Maiden is dealing very very badly with Penny and Weiss's lost. She blames herself for everything and is far away from accepting Penny's final teaching: "I won't be gone, I will be a part of you". Winter is struggling to honor both Penny and Weiss's legacy. If anything, she feels she isn't the right person to do so. Her section is also the most somber on a macrochosm level. As a matter of fact through her we discover Vale was destroyed by Salem and we see how the refugees are not handling their new situation well.

Qrow = acceptance: Qrow is Winter's opposite, as he is the closest to find acceptance. On a personal level, he shows he has integrated with Clover. He has embraced his friend's optimism and has learnt to love himself through him. This is why his semblance evolved and he is now able to bring both good and bad luck. This new found balance lets him find hope even in the bad situation the world is in. He sees how people are showing kindness and realizes Ruby's message is the first step into uniting Remnant.

Of course, our five narrators all foil each other in different ways. I have discussed Qrow and Winter here, so let's see what to say about Nora, Ren and Oscar.

RENORA = LONELY TOGETHER

Nora and Ren are going through an inversion of their dynamic. Nora is now repressing her feelings and avoiding Ren's attentions and offers of support. Ren instead is grieving openly and is trying to be open with his feelings.

Nora isn't even able to speak directly with the person she lost, but narrates talking to no-one in particular. She mostly speaks about the macrochosm and uses plural forms. "We buried our friends", "I think everyone lost someone that day", "For us it was a relief, but for the Vacuans", ""What if we can't go on, what if we are too scarred?". She is in a sense the embodyment of everyone's grief. At the same time, she is so disconnected from her own trauma, that she can only read it while projecting it on the world:

Ren: Nora, she is putting the world on her shoulders.

Ren instead is the one more focused on the feelings of the people around him. Through his point of view, we discover how the other main characters are doing. We realize Nora is too focused on the macrochosm, while Oscar has trouble with the microchosm (he just isn't himself). Ren is trying to balance out the two dimensions. He is grieving for Jaune and is inheriting his legacy. At the same time, he understands that just like his friends are fighting to overcome anger and pain, so is the world. By doing this, he once again draws a parallel between Nora and the World:

I think the epilogue of volume 9 (or the prologue of volume 10?) sets up Nora as a strong symbolic character in Vacuo. She is Vacuo itself, struggling with pain, grief and anger. She is Atlesian orphans, nameless children too scarred to go on. Ren's role will probably be to step in and remind her how beautiful she is.

OSCAR = STAGNATION

Oscar's conflict permeates both the microchom and the macrochosm. It is synthesized by this phrase:

Oscar: "You always believed in the best. You saw people for who they really were. Some of us don't know anymore."

Here, Oscar is speaking both:

Of himself, who is slowly and painfully merging with Ozpin

Of the world, which finds itself in "uncharted territory"

Oscar is uncertain. Of who he is. Of what to do. So, he looks up to Ruby, who was always certain and could "see the world through better eyes".

At the same time, Oscar's situation strongly suggests he is stagnating. He refuses to accept RWBYJ's death (he is right, but it isn't a healthy reaction). He fights the merge unsuccessfully. He can neither go back to the person he was before nor can he progress towards a better version of himself. Basically, just as Ruby is finding the path back to herself in the Ever After, Oscar is losing himself in Vacuo. This is (just like in Renora's case) an inversion to their previous dynamic. Back in Atlas, Oscar was the one progressing, whereas Ruby was stagnating. Right now, they start their stories in Vacuo in an inversed situation.

OTHER POSSIBLE FOILINGS

Of course, the epilogue/prologue offers several possible foilings that could be explored in volume 10. Here are some (but they aren't all).

Ren and Winter are both talking to the "sibling" they entered a conflict with in volume 8. Both grew distant from Jaune and Weiss, only to reconcile later on. Now, they realize how much Jaune and Weiss did to keep their respective families together. They celebrate their legacies and wonder if they might be able to live up to it. This might also foreshadow some foiling of Jaune and Weiss themselves, once they come back.

Qrow and Oscar are both talking to Ruby (to be fair, Qrow speaks to everyone, but thematically Ruby is her interlocutor). However, Qrow has managed to integrate (with Clover), while Oscar fights integration (with Ozpin (understandably so)). At the same time, Qrow focuses on how Ruby has changed the world, whereas Oscar focuses on how Ruby has changed him.

Nora and Qrow open and end the epilogue. Nora is the one who struggles to grieve the most (she is the only one who never visits the memorial, after the cerimony). She insists she must move on, but also wonders if she will ever be able to. Qrow instead is the one who deals the best with the situation. He finds serenity while at the memorial and grieves in a hopeful way thanks to the murales realized by the community. Both are very involved with helping people and the refugees. Nora is shown helping children and states she wants to help Velvet before eating herself. Qrow keeps going into meetings with Theodore, he spends time with Robyn and the kids and helps the Schnees giving out free food. Still, Nora is clearly wearing herself out, whereas Qrow genuinelly finds hope and energy. Nora is symbolically one of the orphans trying to carry the world. Qrow is instead a mentor, who has learnt he doesn't have to face the world alone.

OTHER THOUGHTS

Happy to see the Crown. I think Jill and Jax have the potential to foil Emercury to an extent, so I am happy to see them (it's them, right?) with Merc. It is also something I had always thought that Tyrian and Mercury's mission to Vacuo might have been to find some new allies there. The Crown were the obvious choice.

I feel neutral about team CFVY appearing so much in the epilogue. My guess is that they are set up to be minor foils to RWBY, kind of like the Happy Huntresses and the Ace Ops were in Atlas. I think the books give them enough set-up to solve their arc in a quick way, while commenting on those of the main characters.

I was surprised about the revelation of Salem attacking Vale. I wonder if she found the crown. I doubt it, so far and I think Glynda missing is clearly set-up as a future plot-point. In any case, we'll see. I am open to everything.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #greenlight volume 10 #rwby volume 10 #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #lie ren #winter schnee #qrow branwen #rwby meta #my meta

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graveyard-cuddles · 3 months

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There's this post I saw on here about how if the player turns Shadowheart over to the Sharans, the rest of the party should all turn on you. I completely agree, and I think they should also mutiny against Tav/Durge if they tell Orin to just go ahead and kill the party member she takes hostage. Act 3 feels like the act where everyone in the group should care about each other the most and yet it's the act where they arguably feel most disconnected from one another. And this is all probably a symptom of the overall lack of reactions and responses to major events in Act 3 from the companions in general.

But another similar example that drives me insane is how, if you ascend Astarion and then immediately turn on him and side with the Gur, ALL of the companions will just be like "Nice work taking out the trash, team. Job well done. Another vampire lord vanquished, " without so much as a hint of emotion after you betray him, gang up on him and KILL HIM?? As if they hadn't spent weeks and possibly months traveling with Astarion, getting to know him, bonding with him, ect. As if they hadn't just all stood there and let him complete the ritual. But the moment Paladin Karen and the Gur show up, they just abandon all that over what? Some vague ideal of "evil is evil black and white no nuace" nonsense? (which is even more ridiculous if some of the other companions are evil like DJ Shadowheart or Minthara).

The only companion with a reasonable reaction is Halsin, who correctly points out you should have tried harder to stop the ascension rather than betray Astarion and kill him after it happened. I understand that not all of the companions have the best relationship with him. And I understand all of them very much disapprove of him ascending. So I don't expect the whole party to mutiny over this particular decision. But the fact that they ALL uniformly turn on him so quickly for these people they don't even know is disappointing. There should have realistically been some pushback/objections. Or at least some guilt and sadness and reflection over the fact that they all just had to kill their former traveling companion/friend that THEY allowed to become this threat they felt warranted putting down.

It feels like it should be an incredibly tragic and cathartic moment, and it just falls spectacularly flat. I tried to rationalize their reactions as just part of the shitty lack of responses the companions all generally have in Act 3. But at least with Shadowheart and the hostage situation with Orin the companions will still be ANGRY at you and express their disaproval. Whereas here it really comes off like they just don't give a shit about Astarion and never really did. It's depressing.

I feel like it unintentionally and very sadly lends validation to the idea that what Astarion says about no one else being like Tav/Durge. No one else will look out for him. No one else will have that same kindness for him. No one has a heart like them. I don't actually agree with this notion. I think based on the good epilogue for his spawn ending he's definitely capable of making friends and genuine human connections. But Tav/Durge HAS to come first. They have to be the example that shows him how.

Also why I can't stop repeatedly romancing him. Astarion needs Tav/Durge arguably more than any other companion. He has nothing and no one else.

#also don't come for me for calling the gur lady a karen lmao #i understand the gur have every right to be angry i just don't like her okay?#she's a monday morning quarterback #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #astarion #baulders gate 3 #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin

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sometipsygnostalgic · 28 days

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i'm losing my mind how are there STILL ACTIVE CATRA HATE BLOGS it's been FOUR YEARS how are you still this mad about a female abuse victim!!!!!! how do you STILL not get it!!!!!!!!!!

I have been in enough fandoms to understand that some of the people who stick around the longest are those who act the most scarred after watching the media. It's like stockholme syndrome. Or it's like hating the thing is what gives them drive in the world.

I have also been on the other side of this. I remained a Homestuck blog for a whole four years after the ending made me depressed about Terezi Pyrope, even lasting an additional year and a half after the dogshit epilogues released, through to the demise of Hiveswap and Homestuck^2, before I realised enough was enough and let Adventure Time give me sanctuary again.

But Homestuck had its Gamzee fans who hated the comic and fandom, Adventure Time had its Lemongrab fans who hated the show and fandom, and it seems She-ra has its fair share of antis.

The She-ra antis consist of the following groups, from my observation:

Former fans who got obsessed with some other show and have to bash She-ra because it ain't cool anymore. Usually Owl House fans but can be from anywhere. Their hate is universally connected to propping something else up, and is never done in isolation.

Hordak fans who hate Catra and maybe every other character and crew member and the show. There are a lot of the reverse, Catra fans who hate Hordak, which is part of why this group is so persistent, as a "counter" to this Hordak hate. However, the Catra fans who are Hordak antis MOSTLY do not hate the show (they are just... out of touch with it and generally have bad takes). I've seen one or two extreme cases of Catra apologists accusing Adora, Scorpia, and even Entrapta of abuse, but they were completely alone in their feelings. The Hordak fans who hate Catra tend to also hate Glimmer, Mermista, Adora, Bow, and say that the show is ableist or whatever, but they do not actually harbor much love for Entrapta. Her victimisation is an excuse for their behaviour and they have no understanding of her chaotic character. Do not interact.

Glimmadora fans (the ones who purely seem to exist to make 'Spop Is Abusive' posts). Why the fuck Glimmadora fans hate the show so much, I do not understand. But these are probably the most In-Your-Face of these three groups. While the Hordak fans mentioned above have a lot of similarity to Homestuck Gamzee fans or Adventure Time Lemongrab fans in the weird way they'll hate on the show for doing their blorbo wrong, Glimmadora fans don't have that evidence because they don't really care about Glimmer or Adora. They have absolutely nothing to say about the show, other than that it is Bad. My theory on these Glimmadora fans is that they really liked the Glimmer and Adora ship on a superficial level, and then the show decided to have its Deeper Themes and give Catra and Adora a messy, complicated relationship. There was a lot happening after season 3 where people went "CATRADORA IS REALLY ABUSIVE AND CATRA IS HORRIBLE AND YOU SHOULDNT SHIP HER WITH ANYONE". This period was SO fucking harmful to the fandom that it never recovered, so much work was lost and deleted from AO3. People would say "Glimmadora is a much better ship anyway". But then when season 4 rolled around and, uhh, Glimmer was acting like a little shit all season (for good reason but she really fucked things up with Adora), and Glimmadora crumbled into ash? Well the Glimmadora truthists felt like the show was working against them and that Season 5 was a grand conspiracy to make the Abusive ship Catradora canon!!! The funniest part of this is I sympathise a lot with these feelings. I used to be a Glimmadora truther myself when I watched the show in fall 2021. I was like, "wow, look how nice this ship is. And they go with catradora in the end?? Fucking HOW???". But then seasons 4 and 5 happened and.... yeah, I was disappointed with how Glimmer and Adora's friendship ended up, but I was ENAMORED by the messiness of Catra's character and how raw her and Adora felt about each other even in spite of all the bullshit. I never made excuses about the show being abuse apologising. I analysed it purely in how believable the relationships were and what the intentions of the characters are.

Of these groups, the ones responsible for the most actual SPOP Anti blogs are undoubtedly the Glimmadoras. The only time I've seen something similar, so many antis appearing, was because of Steven Universe ship wars. You have NO IDEA how petty people feel about Lapidot, Amedot, all the dots, all the amethysts. A crew member was chased off the internet over it, or left the internet over the show's own decisions, depending on whether you believe the """screenshots""" that were taken of Zuke's ""private blog""".

#she ra #spop #catradora

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river-of-wine · 3 months

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I know I’ve been talking about Molly and Abigail a lot but I love them and people are way too mean to them, and when I see people blaming them for things such as the failure of the bank robbery all I can think is this. Do you really think that the game wants you to dislike Molly and Abigail? These two are portrayed incredibly sympathetically throughout the game, and it could not be made more clear that they are victims.

Abigail was a sex worker at seventeen years old, and she had a baby at eighteen. Her son’s father abandoned her in a gang with an infant to take care of while she was still a teenager, and he has been absent in his son’s life and refusing to accept Jack is even his son for four years. All she wants is for her son to have a better life than she had as an orphan growing up in bars and brothels, she wants John to be responsible for Jack and everybody else does as well, even Dutch of all people tries to tell John he shouldn’t abandon his own son. Literally all she wants if for her family to be safe, and that is not the unreasonable ask that people seem to make it out to be. She is a young woman with a traumatic past who loves her family, and who, in the epilogue, just wants a life with her son and her husband where they won’t be in danger anymore. Abigail is one of the biggest reasons why John ends up changing into a better man, why he goes from the deadbeat he starts the game as to who we later see him become for the better. Do you think that’s how the narrative would portray a traitor? How it would show Abigail to you if she were anything other than a desperate young mother trying to care for the people she loves?

Molly is a young woman in an abusive relationship. She is alone in America with nowhere to go and presumably no means to support or defend herself if she ever did leave Dutch, which is a hard enough thing to do in a relationship like theirs even when you are not an isolated Irish woman in 1899. She is completely alone in the gang, she has no friends and no one will properly listen to her no matter how hard she tries. She is in love and she’s worried about Dutch, she never asks him for more than the bare minimum of, as she says, “respect and affection”. She is not asking to be the only focus of his attention, she is not asking him to focus entirely on her instead of the gang, she just wants to be looked at, to be called by her first name, to not be ignored by a man who supposedly loves her. Molly is driven into depression and paranoia by her isolation from any support in the gang and Dutch’s abuse, and she ends up so desperate for somebody to pay her any attention that she says something she knows will get her shot. She is revealed to be innocent in one of the most important cutscenes in the game, the final plot twist that Micah ratted on the gang, and after this, but there is doubt before. Karen doesn’t believe her, Mary-Beth doesn’t believe her, Arthur himself is what keeps Dutch from shooting her and he doesn’t believe her. In the money ending, Arthur will plead with Dutch, telling him it wasn’t Molly and to kill Micah instead. Do you think that’s how the narrative would portray a traitor? Is that how it would show you a victim of severe abuse who wanted nothing more than to be loved?

Each have their own flaws in addition to this, but that’s because they, like the men that are so highly praised within the fan base for their brilliant writing, are complex characters. They are three dimensional characters with personalities and wants and needs, who make decisions or react in ways we might not understand because they are their own people in their own impossibly difficult situations. Just think about the actual storytelling of the game, because nothing is done accidentally. There is a reason for every narrative choice made because it was all written down and performed with the intention of telling the story properly. There is a reason why no one questions that Molly was innocent after it is revealed and why her arc ends with that cutscene, and it is because she was innocent. There is a reason why John changing his ways for the sake of his family, both because of Jack and because of Abigail, and finally listening to his wife for once is shown as a good thing, and that’s because it is. Have whatever opinions you like about a character, but don’t pretend the game is telling you they are something that they’re not

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #molly o'shea #abigail marston #I’ve probably said this on here before but I’m talking about them again

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veronicaphoenix · 2 months

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To drown your sadness in a sea song. ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x mermaid!reader Parts: one - two - three - four - five - epilogue Trigger warnings: mental health issues; implied depression.

PART ONE — THE KISS | Words: 1.3k

He’s heard tales about creatures like her before. He’s certain his grandma used to read books about them to him as a child. Mermaids. He doesn’t remember much, though. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He just stares at her.

Her face is heart-shaped. She’s got long hair cascading over a bare torso. Her lips are thin and pink, her eyes vast and blue as the ocean itself. Tiny patches of shiny scales adorned her shoulders, chest, and wrists, while from the waist down, her legs are missing. Instead, a beautiful tail flaps against the water.

She’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. Not in a beautiful way, but in a mesmerizing sort of manner. He can’t keep his eyes of her, maybe because she’s also staring straight at him.

They don’t say anything.

Noah is here, in this secluded corner of the earth, a piece of land hidden from the rest of the world by towering rocks on the shoreline. Things hadn’t been good lately, and the whole ordeal going on with work and his colleagues has started to take a toll on him.

The thoughts that haunted him the night before were unsettling and dangerous. They scared him and kept him awake. To avoid the story from repeating itself, today he left his house before those thoughts got the worst of him.

He came down to this distant beach because they say that gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean puts life’s troubles into perspective and makes them seem insignificant. He’s not convinced about it, but the creature staring directly into his eyes has certainly seized his attention, and all he wants to do is to approach her, ask her why she’s there instead of traversing the ocean’s depths, and what sort of fascinating thing she’s seen in him that’s keeping her gaze fixed upon him.

The first thing he asks her is her name, but he gets no reply.

Mermaids are known for their alluring voices and their melodious songs, however, under the moon’s gentle glow that first night, Noah realizes that this mermaid has no voice. He finds out because of the pained and disappointed expression that crossed her features each time he sought answers and each time she couldn’t provide.

It’s painful to watch. A deep-seated desperation for something to go right courses through him.

As if sensing his distress, she splashes some water his way, just a few droplets to catch his attention again. This time, she has a little smile on her face, and it’s sweet and innocent.

He decides he feels at peace merely looking at her, and if that’s what the sea has got to offer him, he will take it.

It’s been ten minutes or maybe an hour. Noah is not sure, and he doesn’t care. He lets the minutes meld into hours. He doesn’t want to worry about time anymore. He knows once he’s back home and away from the ocean he will have to get back to the mundane; phone calls, meetings, a working schedule, and all that. But for now, while he’s here, with her, time doesn’t matter. They regard each other with the intensity of a summer storm.

She disappears after a while.

The second time he meets her, she offers him something more than just her smile and company.

She extends her arm out of the water, droplets cascading between her fingers, and Noah instinctively opens his palm out for her. When she drops the amulet, it’s the first time they touch. It’s merely the brush of her fingertips against the skin of his palm, but it’s enough for him to know that he wants more.

Looking at it, Noah feels grateful. In his hand lays a necklace. It’s just a piece of weathered thin rope, adorned with a glass pendant containing a miniature world: inside, there is a bit of the ocean, a few drops only, a sprinkle of sand, and a minuscule pearl. The weight of it is not much. All the same, he’s convinced he’s holding a treasure from the depths.

When he looks up, she’s looking at it with a mesmerizing smile, content that even if she cannot offer him the gift of her voice, she could give him something else.

There’s sweetness in her eyes.

Yearning, too.

He can guess enough by the look on her face: she wants to communicate with him, to tell him something. Yet, she cannot bring herself to, and the pain of it spreads through her delicate features as they stare at each other after he’s muttered a low ‘thank you’.

She motions around her neck and then signals to him. Understanding her unspoken message, he hangs the necklace around his neck. Her expression shifts and she’s smiling again. It’s just a tiny smile but it will do for now. She sees him reciprocate the feeling, too, and that’s all she had hoped for tonight.

The young man is beautiful, and she wants to tell him. He’s goodhearted despite the thoughts that have been scarring his mind for the past weeks and she wants to acknowledge him that she can feel it.

Instead, she can only offer him a place of her home in that precious necklace, hoping that he will understand that he’s worth the ocean.

The third time he goes down to the beach it isn’t just to seek solace from the noise of the world. It’s also because he longs to see her. A voice in his head tells him he might be under an enchantment, some sort of bewitchment. She’s after all, a mythological creature, and he’s too mundane and too rational to believe this is real. Life is no magic tale, or is it?

Maybe it’s all in his head.

Maybe the sleepless night, the headaches, the arguments with his teammates, his dissatisfaction at the turn his life has taken has started to show its effects. Nevertheless, he wants to see her, if only one last time.

She’s already waiting for him by the time he arrives, but she’s cautious. She’s perched behind a massive rock partially submerges. She peers at the descending path in anticipation of his arrival. The way they greet each other feels like they’ve reached home after a long journey.

Her tail gently flaps at the water as she rests her body on the shore, her forearms and palms laid on the sand, her long neck stretched towards him.

Noah doesn’t stop. He takes off his shoes and socks, but he doesn’t bother rolling his jeans up.

He crouches down. The water laps at his feet, seeping into his clothes. The salt tang of the ocean fills his senses. She’s shining under the moonlight when he grasps her chin with his thumb and the bend of his index finger.

Droplets of water rest on her eyelashes. There’s no fear in her eyes. Her lips are wet, and he dives right for them.

He kisses her, his lips trapping her lower lip in a tender clasp.

Worried that she might pull back, he’s taken by surprise when, instead, she presses her mouth harder against his and parts her lips a little to give him more access. It’s like diving into the depths of the ocean, tasting a bit of the world we know so little of.

If the water touching his feet is cold, he cannot tell anymore. A shot of warmth is spreading through him as he moves his lips ever so slowly against hers. He would have loved to elicit a moan from her, some sound, but he knows by now that’s not going to happen, and he doesn’t let the disappointment take a hold of him. He relishes in the comfort of kissing the shiny creature in the water, thinking that if this is the respite the ocean has got for him, he’ll gladly take it.

'PART TWO — THE BODY' COMING UP TOMORROW

Author's note: I'm aware I have tons of projects going on at the moment. I'm looking forward to complete The Unmaking of a Warrior & Into the Abyss of Bad Habits this month, but bear with me and my random ideas in the meantime 😶‍🌫️

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x you

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hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

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Take a Chance with Me || fourteen

*mostly written parts

remember to comment and reblog

it was quite obvious that yn and seungcheol would be invited to numerous interviews. and of course, they went to most of them.

"so who liked who first?"

"we first met when we were trainees because yn's younger brother and childhood friend were friends with our maknae, Dino. yn was a trainee under a different company and... was his name Jae? I'm sorry but my memory of him is very fuzzy. I believe Jae was a trainee with us until he dropped out due to health issues."

"so we knew each other from the start of our trainee days and I debuted the same year as them, so we were quite close, I would say. But I think I fell first."

"no, i definitely did."

the interviewer sat up in her seat. "really? why is that so?"

seungcheol grasped yn's hand. "it was in 2014 when we were meeting up together with the other 95 liners in Seventeen. yn was wearing this winter coat that made her so pretty. I fell instantly. you can ask jeonghan, he'd be more than happy to embarrass me."

this was news to yn, who couldn't help but smile. "so you did fall first."

"so when did you fall for him, yn-sshi."

"when i first saw him perform during one of his dance practices. his presence was so strong and i don't know... he was so attractive."

seungcheol flushed red.

yn was at svt's dorm, celebrating her rekindled relationship with seungcheol.

"finally you both are together again. after 3 long years."

"thanks to hoshi actually. he sped the process up by a lot."

"noona, we should do a weverse live right now."

"yea, we should."

their weverse live hit record-high views. the app almost crashed. everyone was so curious to see domestic, drunk yncheol.

"hi guys. yn is super drunk and is having a mini concert with hoshi." - mingyu

"they've sung "just do it" 15 times. someone please stop them." - scoups

"wait they're singing yn's album songs now." - joshua

"oh my god i don't want to hear a drunk version of Oceans and Engines..." - jun

"stop hoshi before he ruins Take a Chance with Me" - minghao

"no wait i want to hear this." - jeonghan

"now hoshi is crying..." - wonwoo

"jihoon-ahhhhhhhhh" - hoshi

"no hoshi..." - woozi

"why is yn still singing... now she's crying... scoups!" - seungkwan

"on it." - scoups

"i'm so sorry for this me-"

"HORANGHAE." - hoshi

"..." - svt

"mianhae" - minghao

"everything okay, yn?"

"yea. i finally feel like... i'm home."

he pulled her in for a kiss. "i'm glad you feel this way. maybe now you'll continue writing those good love songs about me?"

she laughed. "we'll see, cheol. but thank you for... taking a chance with me."

now he laughed. "was that supposed to be a joke?"

"no, i meant it. I love you."

"i love you too."

-fin-

a/n THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING "TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME" AHHHH!!! my first ever smau and kinda long fic. omfg thank you for all the love on this. i'm so so grateful. stay tuned for chpt fifteen, the epilogue. i have something special planned. special thank you to those who always commented/reblogged my posts. yall have a special place in my heart!!!!

note to my taglist: please reblog and comment abt the chpt so i know that you're actually reading my stuff.

summary: 3 years after your breakup with seungcheol, you release an album to cope with your still-broken heart. you didn't expose his name but quickly, your fans and fans of svt begin to connect the dots to the past you wish you could relive. little did you know, the man you loved so desperately would begin to chase you back with the same desperation you so very much desired

inspired by: take a chance with me

pairing: idol!choi seungcheol × fem!idol!reader

genre: past relationship, fluff, angst, best friend!booseoksoon, smau, miscommunication, pining, 2nd chance

warnings: implied self harm/depression, hate comments, updates irregular but will finish because i cried when i thought abt this idea

started: 13.12.23

taglist: fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to the taglist (specify this smau in the pw section)

smau masterlist

smau socials

previous I next

tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @atinybitlonely @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupskook

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sissylittlefeather · 5 months

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This is the Story

Chapter 12: The End

A/N: We've finally reached the end of this beautiful saga. I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm not sure I'll be able to fully give them up, so there may be an epilogue coming, but only time will tell.

I'm so thankful for everyone who has helped me along the way with this one, but I'm eternally grateful to my besties @ccab and @elvisfatass for all their love and encouragement. You two mean so much to me.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist.

Warnings: angst, sadness, depression, and then the smutty fun stuff, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also mentions of pregnancy and periods

Word count: 4.7kish

The depth of their misery is equaled only by their love for each other.

******

By sundown, Grace has packed everything in her car, including a crying Wendy.

"Mama, why do we have to leave Daddy? I like it here." She asks from the back seat, sniffling.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. We just have to go home."

"This is our home." Grace strokes Wendy's hair through the car window.

"I'm sorry, baby." She turns to look back at the house. She hasn't seen Elvis since she finished packing in the bedroom. She wonders if she should find him to say goodbye or if she should let him be. She goes back up to the bedroom one last time to the pile of things she left on the bed. She's left the boots he bought, the book, her necklace with his initials, and a few other things he's given her. She stands there with more tears on her face, looking at the pile. At the last second, she grabs the necklace. She can't leave it. She turns to walk out of the room and finds him there in the doorway.

"Grace, please don't leave."

"You know I don't have a choice."

"I'm not going to stop loving you. My heart is yours. If you ever change your mind, I'll be here."

"Elvis, please." As she goes to walk past him, he grabs her and holds her against him one last time. She melts into him, shoulders quaking as she cries on his chest.

"Honey, don't leave. We can figure this out together." He whispers into her hair. She almost gives in, wanting nothing more than to stay with him. But she can't forget about Wendy. Everything she does is for her and her good.

She pulls away from him and looks into his face.

"Kiss me goodbye."

"No. I refuse to believe this is goodbye." She looks at her feet.

"Then I have to go." She walks past him and down the stairs to the car out front. He leans against the doorframe and shakes as the tears stream down his face. He should've given her that last kiss. He tries to catch her before she leaves. But when he gets downstairs and to the driveway she's already gone.

******

He spends the rest of the day in bed. When the Colonel comes to visit the next day, he drags himself down the stairs.

"You've got a lotta nerve showing up here."

"My boy, I was only trying to protect-"

"You're fired."

"Now, my boy-"

"Get out of my house. And don't come back. You're fired. I don't care what I owe you. I'm done."

"You know it's a lot-"

"I SAID I DON'T CARE. GET OUT. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN, YOU FUCKING BASTARD." He moves toward the Colonel menacingly.

"Don't do anything you'll regret..." The colonel tries to back away slowly, reaching for the door handle behind him.

"I'll regret my association with you for as long as I live. You've lost me the only woman I've ever truly loved. I suggest you leave before I find a gun."

The Colonel backs through the door, shaking his head, and leaves. Elvis slams the door behind him and sinks to the floor again. Jerry comes to his side.

"Come on, boss." He half carries him back up the stairs to the bedroom, where Elvis lays on the bed.

"Don't bother me until I say so."

"Yes, sir." Jerry watches with a look of concern as he backs out of the room. He's never seen Elvis like this before.

******

Almost two weeks later, Grace is still moping around her apartment. She takes Wendy to school everyday, but that's the extent of her ability to do anything. One day, there's a knock on her door. Her heart leaps. Somewhere inside her, she hopes it's Elvis. When she opens the door, though, she finds Maryann.

"What are you doing here?"

"We haven't heard from you since Christmas. And then I saw this." She tosses a tabloid on the counter. It's a picture of Elvis with a headline about him going back to Vegas early.

"Why aren't you with him?" Grace is lost in thought. The only thing she can see is that he has on her initial necklace in the photo. He's still wearing it. "Grace?"

"We broke up."

"Why?"

"My editor said I had to end things with him or I would be fired."

"And you chose your job? What the hell, Grace?"

"How would I take care of Wendy? If he left me?"

"You really think he would do that?"

"I don't know anymore." Maryann shakes her head. She can see now that her sister is broken by this decision. She decides not to push it any further.

"Well, I'm here. And I'm staying for a while. When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know. My stomach hasn't been great lately."

"I'm making you some food." She starts to fiddle with pots and pans.

"No chicken. I can't eat chicken." Maryann stops.

"Grace. When was your last period?" Grace turns to her with a look of panic. She hadn't even noticed.

"I'm not sure."

"Because the last time you couldn't eat chicken..."

******

The first of February is Lisa Marie's 6th birthday. Priscilla brings her to Vegas for a party with Elvis and the rest of their friends.

He almost breaks down when Lisa's first question is about Wendy and Grace. Still, he swallows his feelings and slaps on a smile, explaining to her that they won't be there. She's sad, but after she sees the pile of her presents, she cheers up significantly.

He does his best to be happy all day for his baby girl, and he's pretty sure he's doing a decent job, but anyone who knows him can tell something is wrong. Priscilla walks over to Jerry about half way through the party.

"What's wrong with him?"

"With Elvis?"

"Yes. He's not himself."

"Grace left."

"And he's this messed up about it?" Priscilla raises her eyebrows.

"Priscilla, it's been almost a month and he's still broken. I don't know what to do." Jerry shrugs in frustration and Priscilla looks at Elvis across the room with Lisa.

"I'm sure he'll be better soon. He just needs a new girl." Jerry nods, but he's not sure he agrees.

******

By that first week in February, Grace has an appointment with her doctor, but she won't get the test results for another week or so. She's trying to go about her life as usual, but nothing is the way it should be. She misses Elvis every day so much that it hurts. And she still hasn't had a period. It was nice to have Maryann's company for a while, but she couldn't stay too long with the kids at home.

One day, after dropping Wendy off at school, the phone rings.

"Grace, it's Jerry. You have to come to Vegas."

"What? Why?"

"He's dying without you. He plays his shows like he's supposed to, but nothing is helping. When he's not on stage, he's in bed. He won't come to parties or anything. We've tried everything." Her heart sinks. She knew she was miserable, but she assumed he had moved back to his Vegas life and forgotten about her.

"I can't come back, Jerry. I appreciate you calling me, but I can't fix this."

"Please, Grace. He needs you." The last part makes her heart break in two. She didn't think it was possible to hurt any more for him, but she was wrong.

"I can't. I'm sorry. Tell him- nothing. Don't tell him you talked to me. I'm sorry." They hang up and Grace sits on the floor of her apartment weeping. Will this ever hurt any less?

******

In Vegas, the Memphis mafia guys continue doing everything in their power to get Elvis back to some semblance of himself. One night after a show, Jerry takes the initiative and brings a girl to him. She's young, blonde, beautiful, and everything Elvis used to like. He really hopes this will get him out of his funk.

He knocks and Elvis opens the door slowly. He's already in his pajamas and robe, despite the party that rages downstairs in his honor.

"What do you want, Jerry?"

"I brought you some company." He gestures to the girl, who waves nervously.

"Jerry, I'm really not-"

"Will you just try? Look at her. Come on, boss. You're going to have to move on at some point." He nods as though he's defeated and opens the door for her to come in and then shuts it behind her. Jerry says a quick prayer that this will work before he walks away.

Inside the room, Elvis gestures for the girl to sit on the couch.

"What's your name, doll?" He can't call her honey. He just can't.

"I'm Linda. It's nice to meet you." She is very attractive and he knows he should try.

"Why don't you come sit a little closer to me." He pats the couch right next to him and she scoots into his shoulder. He puts his hand on her knee and then looks down into her face. He tries with everything inside him not to think of Grace as he leans in and presses his lips against hers.

Suddenly, he pulls back and stands up. He feels like he might be sick.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this." She looks at him puzzled.

"Am I not-"

"It's not you. I just... I'm in love with someone else." He hangs his head and she stands up. When she puts her hand on his shoulder, the dam breaks. He sits back down on the couch with his head in his hands weeping. The girl looks at him awkwardly and then sits down on the couch too.

"Do you... do you wanna tell me about it?" Before he can stop it the words just start pouring out of him.

"I've never loved anyone the way I love her. She's the love of my life. But she doesn't believe that I'll be faithful. She doesn't trust me. And it's my own goddamn fault." The girl is shocked to see him so broken. He always seems so strong and in control on stage. She never dreamed he would have this depth of emotion.

"It sounds like you need to show her you're serious. Most women just want some security, especially if they've been hurt before." He looks up at her, eyes red and puffy.

"Security?"

"Yeah. She needs to know you mean what you say. Words are great but action is better."

"Action."

"Mhmm." She nods her head, glad that he's finally stopped crying. "How far are you willing to go for her?"

"I want to marry her."

"Then you gotta tell her that."

"What if she says no?"

"That's a risk you're going to have to take if you mean what you're saying." He nods slowly and pats her hand.

"Thank you, Linda. I'm sorry this didn't go how you planned."

"It's okay. I hope it goes well for you." They stand up and he walks her to the door.

On the elevator ride down, she and Jerry are both silent. Jerry can tell by the way Elvis looked that his plan failed. He's wracking his brain for what to do next. And she's still reeling from the conversation she just had with Elvis Presley.

******

Grace sits in the meeting with Frank, praying he can't tell that she's spent most of the morning crying.

"This manuscript is beautiful, Grace."

"Mhmm."

"We're looking at a publication date in the next month." Grace takes a deep breath.

"You can't publish it."

"Grace..."

"You just can't. I'm saying no."

"You know the higher ups won't like that."

"I don't care. Fire me. I'll find a new job."

"Grace."

"I'm done, Frank."

"You really loved him, didn't you?" Grace looks at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears in her eyes. "You still do."

"I can't have my name on this book. Publish it under a different author. I can't do this anymore."

"Well. We're no longer working with his manager. Elvis told us to publish the book only if you want to." Her heart leaps and she looks up at Frank with a flicker of hope.

"What happened to the Colonel?"

"He said he fired him."

"So... you don't have to publish it?"

"Not unless you want us to."

"No. Please don't." Frank looks at her sadly.

"Finish your novel, Grace. I'll keep you on a contract for just that project. Once it's done, that'll be the end of our professional relationship. You're fired." She nods and gathers her things.

******

After the shows in Vegas end, Elvis seems to get a second wind of sorts. He spends his afternoons looking for something around town. Jerry and the rest of the Memphis mafia breathe more easily, hoping this marks the end of his depression over Grace. Maybe he's finally decided to move on and is ready to get back to himself before he leaves for tour in a couple of weeks.

On the third day after he finishes playing shows, he seems to find what he's looking for. He sits by the phone in his suite anxiously fiddling with the small box. He keeps picking up the phone and putting it back down. His stomach flip-flops every other second and his palms are sweating. When he can't sit still any longer he stands up and paces for a bit, always coming back to his seat by the phone.

Finally, when he just can't take it anymore, he picks up the receiver.

"Fuck it." He dials quickly and waits as the phone rings, his heart lodged in his throat.

"Hello?" Even just the sound of her voice comforts him in a way he hasn't felt in months.

******

"Hi Grace." Her heart stops cold. It's him. She's spent the days since she got fired trying to come up with an excuse to go to Vegas, but she just couldn't get up the nerve. And now he's calling her.

"Elvis." She responds breathlessly.

"I want you to come to Vegas."

"When?"

"As soon as you can." She glances at the calendar. Today is the 12th of February. Her doctor appointment to get the test results is tomorrow.

"I can be there on the 14th."

"Valentine's Day. That's perfect." She didn't even think about the fact that it would be Valentine's Day. Perfect for what?

"Don't bring Wendy. I want it to just be us. Can you swing that?"

"I'll call Paulette."

"Okay, well, I-I-I guess I'll see you then." The thought of seeing her again brings out his nervous stutter. "Grace?"

"Yes?" She doesn't know what to say, but she doesn't want to hang up either.

"I miss you, honey." Her heart melts and the tears gather in her eyes.

"I miss you too." There's so much more to say, but neither of them can bring themselves to say it.

******

After he hangs up, Elvis breathes a sigh of relief. She agreed to come to Vegas. He knows this may not mean anything, but for the first time in months, he has some hope. He puts the box in his pocket and sets out to make the arrangements.

******

The next day, Grace sits in her car in the parking lot of her doctor's office crying hysterically.

The test confirmed what she was too terrified to contemplate as a reality.

She's pregnant.

As the tears stream down her face, a million thoughts run around her mind. Just when she thought she had a chance of getting Elvis back, this happens. Surely, he won't want anything to do with her now. And even if he does, it'll only be out of obligation.

She doesn't have a job. It's hard enough trying to support Wendy. How will she raise and care for two children on her own?

Maybe she'll invent a dead husband to explain why she has two children with no man. She shakes her head at that thought.

And what will this do for Elvis's image? What if it gets out that this is his baby? Should she even tell him?

She holds her head in her hands and continues weeping. How will she face him tomorrow?

******

Elvis paces nervously in his suite. She's here in the hotel. He sent Jerry to the airport to pick her up an hour ago with a message to meet him downstairs at 7. He's actually going to take her to a real restaurant for dinner. He no longer cares if anyone sees them together. In fact, he hopes there are pictures in magazines after tonight. Every few minutes, he pats his pocket to make sure the box is still there.

He's dressed in the velvet jacket again, this time with a white silk shirt under it, unbuttoned enough for her to see that he's wearing the initial necklace. A cigarillo hangs from his mouth and he keeps running his hand through his hair, so it's especially fluffy. He's trying to recreate the feeling of New Year's Eve, since it's the last time they were really happy together, but he's not sure he's succeeded.

Finally, he looks at the clock and it's five til. He can head downstairs and not look like he's too desperate. When the elevator opens, he looks around anxiously. He spots her standing uneasily in the lobby. She's looking around for him too, her dark hair pulled into a low bun, purse tucked up under her arm. She has on the black dress she wore for Halloween. His eyes drift slowly over her body as the dress hugs her curves perfectly. He wants to touch her so badly it hurts. When he can't stand it anymore, he walks over to her and resists the urge to wrap his arms around her.

"Hi honey." She turns to face him, obviously nervous too.

"Oh hi!"

"Should we... go?" She nods and he leads her through the lobby to the parking garage where his car is waiting. He wants tonight to be as normal as possible, so he's driving his own car.

They make small talk as he drives the short distance to the restaurant. It's clear that they're not sure how to approach their reunion. Neither wants to be the first one to take the conversation into deeper territory. Yet they're both sitting on secrets that will require a real talk at some point.

At the restaurant, they're seated at a private table in the back. He pulls her chair out for her and softly grazes her shoulder she sits. His touch is electric and they both shiver with the contact.

They eat, talking about everything and nothing. He tells her about firing the Colonel and she tells him about being fired for not publishing the book. At last, they sit there with nothing to distract them and they both know the time has come. He clears his throat, assuming he's the only one with a confession.

"Grace, I asked you to come here for a reason."

"Elvis, wait-"

"No, I need to say this. I love you, Grace. I'm barely half a person without you. I can't live-"

"Elvis, I'm pregnant." His mouth drops open and Grace's mind runs wild. She's pretty sure he's about to backtrack on everything he just said.

"I'm sorry I just blurted it out like that, but I feel like you needed to know before you made some big declaration." He closes his mouth and sits quietly, his heart pounding as he reaches into his pocket. "Anyway, so now you know. I don't expect anything from you. I've had a baby out of wedlock before, I can do it again-"

"No. You won't." He sets the box on the table and opens it. Inside is a 8 carat emerald cut diamond engagement ring. Now it's Grace's turn to be speechless. He slides out of his chair and onto one knee beside her with the ring box in his hand.

"Grace, I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. You are the other half of my soul and I've been searching for you for as long as I can remember. Everything about you is music and poetry and you amaze me every day. You are the only woman I want for the rest of my life. Please let me love you forever. Marry me, Grace Dubois."

"Yes." She whispers it, unable to summon any more words. And besides, that's the only one that really matters. The smile that spreads across his face could light up a million dark rooms and he pulls the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. Without another thought, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a deep and passionate kiss. Then, he kisses her cheek and they embrace.

"I love you, Elvis. God, I love you so much." She laughs as the tears slide down her cheeks and he pulls back, cupping her face in his hands.

"Oh, Grace. I'm so excited for this life with you, for our child, for our family. I've never been this happy before."

"Me neither. I'm just so glad you're happy about the baby." He stands up and goes back to his chair, pulling it closer to hers so he can keep hold of her hand.

"Of course, honey. The girls need another sibling. I love that we will have one that is part of both of us." He kisses her hand. Then, he looks around.

"Hey, you know where we are?"

"Vegas?"

"We could get married tonight." His eyes sparkle with excitement and she laughs.

"We could."

"Why not?"

"I honestly can't think of a single damn reason."

They laugh together and head out of the restaurant hand in hand.

******

Elvis and Grace make it to a chapel before the paparazzi find them, but the way out is crowded with cameras. Elvis doesn't care. He holds up her hand to show off the ring and tells anyone who'll listen that he's happily married. Grace is shy at first, but his energy is contagious and before long, she's the perfect picture of a blushing bride. They kiss one last time for the cameras before he helps her into the car and they drive away, laughing and waving.

******

Back at the International, they maintain decorum only as far as the elevator. Once the doors begin to close, they turn and wrap around each other passionately, mouths pressed together with tongues dancing wildly. He slides his hands back to her ass and rolls his hips into her. She moans into his mouth and he kisses down her neck to her cleavage, running his tongue along the edge of her dress.

When the doors finally open, they tumble out of the elevator together to the door of his suite. He presses her body against the door with his own and she nibbles on his earlobe as he fiddles with the key. They roll into the room together, kicking off shoes and shedding clothing left and right. By the time they make it to the bedroom, they're both naked.

He lays her gently on the bed and kisses down her body to her stomach. He kisses just below her bellybutton and looks up at her softly. She knows he's thinking about the baby that's settled there for the moment. But he quickly switches gears and moves down lower on her body. He kisses the inside of each thigh before he presses his mouth to her center and she moans loudly, arching her back. He moves his tongue in circles over and around her most sensitive spot. He was always skilled, but in the time they've been together he's learned her body and knows exactly how to make her crazy. He slides first one finger and then two inside her and begins to move them against her as she squirms. He continues to move his tongue in a way that causes her to cry out his name. He knows exactly what she wants and he gives it to her until the waves of ecstatic pleasure wash over her again and again and she runs her fingers through his hair. He kisses back up her body and lines his cock up with her entrance. When he pushes into her slowly, they groan together at the sensation of him sliding into her tight pussy. She takes all of him easily, almost as though she was made for him to fill her up. He fucks into her, kissing her shoulder and neck and cheek.

"God, honey, I missed you so much. You feel so good." He says, his voice a husky whisper. She moans into his mouth as he pounds his hips against hers.

"I love you so much. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

"Honey, that ring on your finger is a promise that I won't." He leans in and kisses her deeply, all the while filling her rhythmically with his cock.

She pushes him onto his back and settles between his legs. He loves it when she takes control like this. He never dreamed he would, but there's something about the way their love is a give and take that drives him wild.

Holding the base of him in one hand, she sinks her mouth down onto him, rolling his foreskin back so that the sensitive head hits the back of her throat.

"Oh, fuck, honey." He moans loudly and throws his head back. She continues to work, running her tongue up the bottom of his shaft and licking small circles around him. She's learned his body too and it's obvious by how she makes him come undone.

When he's approaching the edge, she stops and pulls back. He whimpers and aligns her hips with his desperately. He's so close to his release and it's been so long that he feels like he might burst. She slips him into her slowly and then lets him drive into her from underneath. He holds her tight to his chest with both arms while he fucks her, grabbing the back of her hair and pulling her in for deep kisses.

Before too long, he slams into her one last time, filling her with warmth as he shudders and pulses inside her. Neither of them expected her to tumble over the edge with him, but she does, the heat from her orgasm exploding from her center, muffling her hearing and coursing through her like wildfire. They lay there together panting and sweating for a moment. Then, she pulls off of him and settles in the crook of his arm, her fingers making circles in his chest hair. He's the first one to speak.

"I think I can handle doing that forever."

"You better! Not much choice now." They laugh and he rolls over to face her, bringing her fingers to his lips, suddenly serious.

"I know we said vows at the chapel, but I'm making another one to you now. I promise to always love you like this, even when it's hard. I promise to always try."

Her eyes glisten and she holds her hand to his cheek.

"I promise to trust you and believe in you with my whole heart. I love you, Elvis Presley. Always."

They settle in to sleep, finally secure in knowing there's no end to the nights they'll spend wrapped up in each other.

******

The first stop on his tour is Tulsa, so Paulette brings Wendy and they head to Grace's mom's house. The welcome they receive is warm and chaotic and their joy is undeniable. At first, Ruth is disappointed that they didn't have a big wedding, but the news of a new grandchild distracts her.

After several hours of family time, Elvis and Grace head to the hotel where they stayed for Thanksgiving, leaving Wendy to stay with her grandma again.

When they get to the door of their room, he stops her.

"Wait, I wanna carry you over the threshold." He scoops her into his arms.

"This is not our home, though?" She looks at him puzzled.

"Honey, my home is wherever you are." He kicks the door open and carries her inside, never looking back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The End

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #grace dubois #this is the story #Spotify

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shatcey · 2 months

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1st anniversary (William)

William Victor Victor epilogue Liam Liam epilogue

You know how it happens… Someone shows you affection, and you become curious about this person… Will recently shows up with the most beautiful 5⭐ card I've ever seen in this game, and that's the reason I decided to read his story in this event. Not because I liked the description of his story more than the others. No, no, no, no! It's just because he definitely likes me. And it doesn't really matter that I chose his route about a week before I got the card. This is just a... coincidence, yes, coincidence.

So...

You expect some flashbacks from the events dedicated to the anniversary. And this one is no exception. The story is from his perspective (which is really rare), so it is even more precious.

After Victor's instruction, Will feels a bit conflicted. Will respects the wishes of others, and he doesn't like making decisions for them. But Victor forbade him to tell Kate about it. So he went to play the piano, but Kate didn't answer his call as usual… So he went to look for her. He finds her in the garden with Harry and Liam. They were playing cards and laughing happily.

Will feels a bit nostalgic and recall the impression of her at their first meeting.

Harry jokes that it's written on her face that she loves Will. They laugh and at that moment, the man himself appears. The boys immediately found a reason to leave them alone. Good boys.

Will said he was a little tired and would like to take a nap on her lap and listen to her story. She agrees and asks what story he would like to hear. The day they met… He wanted to know in details how she spent that day. And she tells him (I'm actually impressed. It was a year ago, and she remembers it so well… I don't remember what I did a week ago, at least not in so much detail, that's for sure).

The next day… thanks to the combined efforts of the Crown members…

They repeat step by step everything she did on that remarkable day. She wakes up late (Alfons played the role of an alarm clock, oh, his magic fingers), Ellis brings her bread from the bakery (she used to lives to the second floor of the bakery and eats their bread for breakfast). Liam asks her to write a love letter. When Harry came and said that because of the season at the post office, where she used to work, there were not enough staff and they needed a hand. Kate is a good girl, so she agrees to help.

Will escorted her to the post office and went for his business. But at the same time as before, he was at the same place where they met. While waiting for her, he remembers their meeting…

I'm not sure, but I think it was in episode 0…

So… Kate appears and points out that this day is remarkably similar to the day they met.

In the normal ending, she instantly figure out that this is Will's doing, and when she asks why, he offers her to reveal it herself. So she did. And then she begs him to let her stay by his side.

After that, Will came to Victor with a signed agreement.

I actually find it so Will's like… "until the final day separates us"… poetic and a bit depressing)

And they recall their conversation on the same topic when Kate first appeared in the crown.

I think he ment "not soon" or "as far as possible"… But I'm not certain…

In the premium ending they continue. He sends her to deliver the last two letters. And the last one leads her to the same mansion where she meets all the boys from the crown (prologue).

Will mentioned that in this mansion he once again killed someone…. This place somehow attracts bad people.

He was playing the piano, and Kate (of course) happily approached him. She realized once again that this was a test of her determination.

If you've finished his route, you know what it means… If not… don't think about it, you'll figure out eventually.

After that, Will recalled his thoughts…

Yet again I think it was in episode 0…

And in the end, he expressed his usual hope..

And for once, something sweet, not gloomy.

I didn't expect it to be so grim.

I finished his route, read his events, so I knew about his fatalism and I cannot say I was surprised. But it's still too dark…

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 5 months

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Everlark (Mockingjay, Ch. 15)

(an aside: it's hitting me more reading it this time how horrific the falling of the nut is when katniss puts it into comparison with how her dad died in the mines. like it's a very significant turn in her and gale's relationship when he devises this plan i think)

it's interesting that katniss says she has no choice but to listen to haymitch's updates on peeta. of course it's because he's literally in her ear (she could take the piece out/tune him out) but i think it's mostly because it's more like something within her compels her to listen to them

funny how katniss at this point has resigned herself to never getting her peeta back but her heart still skips a beat when she hears mildly better news on him. like she's been in a state of not allowing herself to have hope because she fears inevitable disappointment but that hope is still deep within her

peeta remembering katniss's father singing the hanging tree when he was like 6/7 makes me want to weep. and i'm sure it made katniss want to weep, for peeta to remember her father, how the birds stopped to listen to him sing. i feel like there's so many instances where peeta is linked to katniss's father throughout the trilogy, through katniss's own thoughts and here we have a link that peeta remembers.

the fact that this memory is linked to peeta being mesmerised by katniss singing in school when they were 5. because his father had pointed out katniss's father to him. so he'd already seen katniss sing at this point, and then he's 6/7 in the bakery and he sees katniss's dad walk in and he remembers and he listens to see if the birds stop for him the way his father says they do, the way he saw them stop for katniss. ugh. i am so glad peeta and katniss found each other again and again and again. they were really inevitable.

her wishing peeta was there to articulate why it's all so wrong. because even though peeta shares her rebellious feelings and anger, he also shares her heart and her kindness and her compassion for human lives

"i hope he's watching now, that he remembers that night as it happened, and maybe forgives me when i die" - i am so glad they got their growing back together and their epilogue because this outcome or any other outcome for them would have seriously depressed me. that this is what this teenage girl is thinking about, the teenage boy she loves and who has been taken from her and twisted, right before she dies as part of a political plan she just kinda stumbled into...

#everlark #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #tgtpto everlark read #mockingjay

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euphoric-dramione · 2 months

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January Dramione fanfic wrap-up *with links*

FULL-LENGTH:

Waifs and Strays by kyonomiko: very cute fluffy fic where draco is a cutiepie pine marten.

& Obey, Till Death Do Us Part by LongtimeLurker1111: his could’ve been a dark romance, but instead hermione decided to stay with “phin” theo and i just don’t understand it. the worst part wasn’t rapist draco bc he was the bad guy, it was rapist “phin” theo who was supposed to be good smut was nice at first.

Brand New World by NinaBinaBallerina: i loved loooved the beggining of this fic. then after they graduated and she found out she was pregnant i kinda lost the plot. i read until the point draco wanted her to move in with him while he was married to astoria and then i just skimmed until the epilogue.

In Silence And Submission by gillianeliza: this was a cool smutty bdsm fic, it had some nice things but i just think the writing was kinda wonky? nevertheless, very much enjoyed reading this.

The Fever by Flightglow32: this was supposed to be a smutty novelette but the smut happens in the very last chapter and only last five pages and we skim through the smut scenes like we’re a train on schedule and i just don’t understand why? especially because the fic was so sexual in its themes so why was the smut so lackluster??

Draconian by Noelle: It was like a really fluffy wartime with not-so big stakes, at first i thought how stragely whiny and crying hermione was all the time, but then we started to slowly find out what happened to her. I didn’t feel very much towards this story but it was entertaining and very readable.

Uncoffined by lady_of_clunn: it was nice, but due to the dubious ethics i’m quite conflicted of how i’m supposed to feel.

Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark: look, i know i had dnfed this when i had read only like one or two chapters, but lemme tell you how much i loed this fic when i picked it back up! it was all i needed - spicy, entertaining, angsty, with toxic but possessive and loving draco. although hermione felt ooc, it didn’t dim the reading experience.

The Politician's Wife by pir8fancier: this was so realistic, the romance was subtle but powerful, the little bit of smut we got was fantastic. also, it was incredibly well-written.

Seasons Pass (To This Ass) by mighbewriting: didn’t love it, but it was short, so i read it in one night. the smut was realistic as in how sex works but it wasn’t great smut if you know what i mean. loved draco’s quidditch player physique.

More Than One Way To Win by scullymurphy: i loooved the fake dating in this one, it was short but had all the scenes, i really liked it, although i wish there was more plot for after they got into an actual relationship.

Safe Home by khakis: cute kinda short kinda omegaverse story with draco as a werewolf but the werewolf part doesn’t play a huge part.

Breed by RoseDeVents: sooo muuuch breeeding.

The Curse of Malfoy Manor by alwaysaclaw11: a nice retelling of beauty and the beast, but it didn't leave a lasting impact on me.

Our Girl by geoblock: hands down the best smut i’ve ever read, and it's hermione x draco x theo x BLAISE

Innocent Monsters by itscometothis: very fluffy, but then draco gets depressed and a lot of attention is paid to his depression which i don’t mind, but it was a bit triggering. so not extremely fluffy, even though on of the tags was “tooth-rotting fluff”.

ONE-SHOTS:

Belladona by NinaBinaBallerina

(What’s a kink?) Between Friends by morriganmercy

Bond by spicyxpisces

Tell Me by GardenAtTwilight

Keep Me Safe by Skyfire2459

Perfect by CaityBell

Fourteen Days by its_banannaz

Marked as Mine by LilithShade

WORKS IN-PROGRESS:

Let The Dark In by senlinyu

The Sun, The Moon, The Truth by pinkinku

House Pet by NinaBinaBallerina

(all three of these are pretty dark and ansgty and VERY well written, i usually don't read wips)

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #fanfiction #booktok #fanfic #books #high reeve #ao3 wrapped

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anki-of-beleriand · 11 months

Text

The house at the edge of the world ch. 13

Summary: Y/N is the owner of an Airbnb at the edge of the world, a place in which Wanda would either heal or become what everyone is afraid of.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff/SW! x Female!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! +18, angst, drama, slow burn, friends to lovers, pregnancy, romance, fluff, mentions of depression and self harm, healing, R owns an Airbnb that welcomes many known characters from Marvel, R has powers, Wanda needs healing, and so does R. More warnings as the story progress.

Author's Note: Hello people! I know it has been quite some time, I do apologise about that. Life has not been easy and I have been living some hardships that prevent me from writing here, but not from writing on my notebooks, so I'm trying to get everything orginize and back into the different chapters of the stories.

This chapter is just a small moment of separation, and realization. I hope you guys like it. The end is almost here, remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 -Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Why are you fighting for?

Who are we fighting for?

There was not a single sound.

Darkness surrounded her, while tight straps of leather and heavy chains tied her to a wall. She felt panic rising inside her mind the moment she realized she could not call upon her powers. Her body tensed, fighting against the bonds keeping her in place. It took her a moment of struggle to finally understand there was no possible way out of this trap.

She took a deep breath, but her mouth never uttered a single word.

For some reason, she knew she was alone.

Her head was hurting, dizziness was taking over her senses while she recalled the events leading to her current situation. She remembered the helicopters, the screams, and the explosions; the pain of electric discharge running through her body made her lose the control she was holding over her magic. The heavy weight of something hitting her head made her staggered and then…

You were running towards them; she was confused but she tried to warn you.

Another discharge of electricity and Wanda was out.

The young woman didn’t need to wonder further to know in what kind of situation she was in. This only made her struggled against her bonds, if she had been kidnapped then there was only one person of doing such a thing. Wanda felt panic again, this time around she fought to get a hold of her powers only to feel a current of burning electricity moving from her neck through her head.

The memory of the Raft came right into her mind, and she understood why she could not use her powers.

She tried to move her neck, the weight of the device tied to it was now easily detected. Wanda clenched her jaw holding back the scream of frustration that wanted to leave her lips. Never before had she felt so vulnerable, her powers had become such an important part of herself that being unable to reach for them told her she was really in big trouble.

The sound of footsteps and heavy metal being scratched caller her attention, her whole body tensed and once more the pain from the device attacked her head making it impossible for her to hold back her protests of pain.

“Please, try to now overexert yourself, Wanda.” The voice of a familiar man reached her ears, though it took her some time to get used to the blinding lights in the room. “I would hate for you to be unconscious and unable to use your full potential before I have a chance of using it.”

Wanda tried to lift her head, and after a couple of minutes and intense pain crossing her face, she could finally do it.

“Hayward.” She mumbled through clenched teeth, the man tilted his head unimpressed his lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

“Hello, Wanda. I’m glad I was finally able to find you and have you as my guest.” The man stood right in front of her, and Wanda finally realized the precarious state she was in.

The room was circular in form, with white walls and LED lights hanging from the ceiling. She had been strapped to a wall but was put in such a position that she was facing a surgical bed and a couple of instruments and machines she was afraid to identify. The man in front of her stepped aside, his eyes gleaming with emotion when her clear eyes fell upon the lifeless body that had been Vision.

Wanda felt her heart drop at the sight, she had seen him like this before.

The moment she tried to recover his body and was denied the closure of a funeral for the man she had loved with her life. Her eyes filled with tears, fear and uncertainty pocked at the back of her mind while Hayward stood right in front of her.

“Now that I have your full attention, how about we have a small conversation.” Hayward tilted his head ignoring completely the glare Wanda was sending his way. “I am sure we can get into an agreement and this situation would end in something beneficial for the both of us.”

“As soon as I am out of here, I am going to make you pay for everything.” Wanda warned holding back her anger such as to not activate her powers.

Hayward sighed shaking his head while making a gesture with his hand, “that was an unfortunate answer, Wanda. I really want your cooperation willingly; however, I am not beyond into obtaining it by force.”

Not sooner had he said this the device around her neck activated, and the screams of Wanda filled out the room. The young woman clenched her eyes shut, but her body ignited with a fire she didn’t recognize, and her hands burnt intently while a spark of red magical mist left her fingertips.

“It seems we can work something out.” Hayward said turning around to one man dressed in a white lab coat. “Keep trying until we can get from her what I want.”

______________________________________________________________

You woke up startled, your mouth opening to take a deep breath.

The side of your body was hurting, and the world around you was dancing in front of your eyes. Nausea hit your stomach the moment you sat down, your eyes clenched closed for a moment while you tried t get a hold of your surroundings and the situation at hand.

An explosion. A fight.

Wanda!

You didn’t have time to react, a hand placed itself on your shoulder and you were forced to lift your head and see the concern glare from Ajak pinning you to the place you were sitting on.

“Wanda…” You stuttered but the older woman merely shook her head, you tried to stand up again but she pressed you back with a strength you were always surprised to find in her.

“Stay still. You were hurt badly. I have taken care of most of your wounds, but it wouldn’t do any good if you were to force yourself at the moment.” Ajak went back to the previous position on the chair, you blinked away your dizziness before noticing you were in your room.

The place was a mess, but it seemed as if nothing in there was broken beyond repair. The older woman turned around tilting her head and making a face.

“The living room and the guest house were destroyed.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes burning with emotion before they settled on you once more. “I have called them already; they will be here as soon as they can.”

You didn’t need to ask who was coming, you knew Ajak had called the family. You weren’t sure who would come to your aid, after all, this was the first time in a very long time one of them had been hurt. What you did know was that you were still family and that was all Ajak needed to let them know what had happened.

Morning was already there, the light of the day sneaked inside the glasses of your bedroom and the sky above your head was still heavy with unleashed storms. You sat down slowly, your heart beating fast while your hands clenched tightly at your sides, you took a deep breath trying to control yourself before demanding answers.

Turning to the right your eyes found those of Ajak, the clarity in them told you everything you need to know. Yet you asked the question burning in your mind.

“What happened to Wanda?”

“We don’t know exactly.” Ajak fixed her position on the chair, ready to stop you from doing something harsh. “No one expected such an attack, this place was supposed to be a secret and Natasha and Yelena are assuring Sprite they were not followed. Though they obviously were, or something else its at play here.”

You scoffed at that, shifting on the bed so your legs were at the edge of the bed. Ajak was on her feet right away, her eyes gleaming strangely while her hand placed itself on your shoulder.

“You’re still hurt.”

“That man, or whoever the hell did this have Wanda.” You lifted your face with determination, the magic inside you igniting a golden fire around your irises. “I need to…”

“Take it easy.” Ajak stated firmly, her hand held up to stop you from any harsh movement.

For a brief instant you defied her with your eyes, your body creating a tension in your muscles which only made the pain increased. Your shoulders fell, eyes downcast before you stood on shaky legs.

“I need to do something, Ajak. Wanda may be in danger and I can’t…” You lifted your face to make sure Ajak could read the emotions running rampage through your system.

The older woman softened her features, her hand lifting up to put a strand of hair behind your ear. She smiled at you nodding towards the bathroom.

“I am not saying to do nothing, I’m just saying take it easy.” She stood back allowing you more space to move. “Go and take a bath, be careful with your wounds and once I have patch you up we will join the others.”

Two hours later you were walking down your hall, your eyes went from the complete destruction that was now your house and the falling drops of water coming from the dark clouds above your head. Your eyes drifted from what used to be your living room to the place where Natasha and Yelena were standing on. Ajak and Sprite had long gone to get everything ready back at their home, the Quinjet waiting in the front yard.

“So, I bet you two have some news, right?” Your eyes gleamed dangerously at the two Widows; Natasha nodded curtly pointing to the jet.

“Hayward has recruited some sympathizers and has been using some of SWORD’s resources to execute his plan.” Natasha went directly to the computer in the jet, her fingertips moving swiftly on the keyboard. “Tony and Monica had been monitoring some of the known bases of the organization, but after five years of leaving the leadership to this man it is quite obvious, he has been preparing for a situation such as this.”

“Which means, whatever he is up to, he is well hidden and almost impossible to track down.” You complemented sitting down with a wince.

“In theory, yes.” Natasha pressed a key and the window transform into a screen showing the map of the world with several dots in red and green.

You glanced at the screen with a frown in place, there was impatience in your posture while your thoughts filled with how much time everyone had wasted without knowing what could have happened to Wanda. Your strength was at half its potential, and your fingertips tingled with the possibility of the answers you could get if you were to get a hold of your powers.

Yelena shifted at your side, and soon you felt the weight of her hand on your shoulder. When you looked back at her she was offering a comforting glance, something you returned with a shaky smile.

“What do you need from me?” You finally asked to the two women, Natasha and Yelena exchanged a quick glance before another voice came in right through the coms.

“We need you to tell us how you can help us in this situation, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You had heard stories about the man, and you had seen him several times through the news but never before had you had the honour of meeting him much less talk to him. You knew your existence was a secret, it was something Natasha and Yelena had kept to themselves and this had been a great advantage for you to remain anonymous and out of the conflicts happening in the world. But right now, you didn’t care. The woman you had fallen in love with was in danger and it was about time for you to cross that line.

“Nick Fury, the man of many legends.” You replied standing up and walking towards the camera, the sole eye of the man focused on your image and you gave off a half smile. “I can do many things, but you must know each one of them comes with a price.”

“Is that a threat or a negotiation?” He retorted tilting his head unimpressed, you snorted shaking your head while looking around the place before lifting your hand. This time around your fingertips were gleaming gold and your eyes shone with power that many would envy from you.

“It’s a promise.” The electronics around you flickered before everything went back to normal, neither Natasha nor Yelena changed their postures though you were quite sure they would be ready to jump at you if at any point they felt threatened.

It seemed as if Fury thought the same, for the man merely chuckled shaking his head while crossing his arms.

“We do not have time for games, as you can see there are many bases and many spots in which Hayward can be hidden. And there is no time.” He stated leaning. “I am not sure as to what he has planned for Wanda, but last time Wanda lost her control she created a complete different reality in this one.”

“She won’t lose any control of her powers.” The conviction behind your words surprised Fury, you shake your head remembering her progress in the last couple of months. “But it is true that if used incorrectly, her powers can be disastrous.”

“We have monitored some of these bases, and have…” You lifted your hand shaking your head.

“I can find her with a flickered of my hand.”

“You can?” Yelena asked surprised by your declaration, you nodded though there was no a single trace of happiness or smugness in your expression.

Fury tilted his head lifting a single eyebrow at you, “there is a price for that, am I right? And you are not talking about money.”

“That’s right. My powers…” You hesitated for a moment, revealing the extended of what you could do was pretty dangerous so before speaking you measure the extension of the information you could share. “They required concentration, and energy that I didn’t possess an hour ago.”

“Then, we should cut the crap and go down to business, don’t you think?” Fury finally stated, you nodded in agreement sitting down once more and listening to the debrief.

With each passing second you grew inpatient.

It was almost impossible to not think of her at the moment, of her smile and the way her eyes would shine with happiness and tenderness whenever she felt safe. How smooth was her skin, and how warm was her smile; you had fallen into her spell without measuring the consequences. And now, as they spoke about Westview and Hayward, about what they think was going to happen and how Wanda play into all the mess, you couldn’t help but think that this mission would define your fate and hers.

“Y/N?” You lifted your head startled, Yelena was glancing at you with a glint of concern in her eyes. The cockpit was silent, everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

It took you a moment to realize they were waiting for you.

“I will do it on my own. And, under my rules.” You stated glancing at the screen and making sure the man at the other end knew who he was dealing with. “I am not going to be a tool, nor someone you can call on whenever the world is in danger. I am doing this out of selfishness.”

Fury scowled at your words, he lifted his chin and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to fight over your words. But then he dropped his shoulders nodding curtly.

“Very well.”

You turned around leaving the Quinjet with a set of soft steps following you slowly, you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Yelena the one walking right behind you. A part of you knew this was mainly out of duty, but there was also a part of you that knew she opted to do it out of love.

The place was a complete mess, the house that had guarded Wanda the last couple of months was on ruins and ashes, the rain creating pools of blackness while the wind hit your face scratching the tenderness of your skin. Time seemed to stop around you, your footsteps taking you through the ruins of the house and the destruction around you, the burning anger inside your heart was making it impossible to focus on something differently to what had happened before disaster stroke.

You stood in the middle of the hill, glancing at the sky then at the ocean spreading in the horizon. The waters were dark, waves disturbing the calm waters while the salty aroma in the air filled your nostrils. Whatever you heard inside the Quinjet was nothing to what you knew about Wanda and the situation she was in. You knew the moment you started working your magic to find her, she would be a step closer to her previous life than to the one she had started building in Vernazza.

It wasn’t about her going back to her dark path, it was her going back to being a hero.

And you being alone.

You heard footsteps behind you, your body tensed knowing there was no more time to waste. Natasha stood behind you for a moment, her own heart was pressing hard against her chest and she couldn’t help but feel worried for what Wanda might be living at the moment.

“How powerful are you, really?” Natasha finally asked crossing her arms while shooting you a calculating stare.

Your lips quirked upwards; one eyebrow raised just as you turned to face her.

“Powerful enough to find her, to bind her and to destroy her without moving from this spot.” You replied without changing your tone of voice.

Natasha nodded curtly tilting her head to the side, “and all this time, you just remained here without helping others.”

“It was not my place, Natasha.” You furrowed your brows, shrugging. “Not all of us are made to be heroes, and sometimes…we could do more harm than good. My powers are special, like most witches are.”

Natasha scoffed shaking her head without understanding completely your reluctance to be of any help in the past. She had learnt the hard way that being inactive when the world needed you the most might lead to disaster. Innocent people, children, suffering at the hands of injustice and evil individuals that would stop at nothing until they had gotten what they wanted. The Red Room was just one example of this, but Natasha knew more cases in which perhaps more help would have make a difference.

“My powers come with a price, Natasha.” You sighed closing your eyes for a moment before you opened them and the golden light that was your inner strength. Your fingertips created a golden mist while the air around you changed.

It felt heavier, suffocating.

Natasha shivered for a moment, though she never backed down from her position in front of you. You didn’t expect her to do just that, you knew the woman could face whoever she wanted without never showing fear or uncertainty. That was one of the things you like the most about her, Natasha was always ready for action and she was someone you knew you could count on.

At the moment, she was the best bet you had to help Wanda.

“I’ll find her, and you better be ready because I have a feeling this won’t be pretty.” You took a deep breath and then close your eyes ready to concentrate.

After you were taking under Ajak’s wing, they realized you need instruction. There was nothing much Sersi could teach you about magic, it was pretty obvious that due to the nature of your powers you would need powerful people ready to teach you how to handle your powers completely. Thus, after getting used to living with the Eternals, they journey started. You met a lot of people in all that time, but it was actually an old Yoruba woman you met when travelling to Togo. It was thanks to her that you learnt about the magic connecting all beings, and the magic itself tying everyone to what many in modernity called mutants.

When you opened your eyes you could see the different strings around you.

The magic tickled your skin, with a warm waved of air forming around your chest and spreading around your body in an explosion of connections coming to you through your own powers. The first time you did this, you almost died. But now, you were able to separate yourself from the other strings…the many people that had some magic in them, the ones that were powerful, and the ones that were not so much.

Natasha observed with calculating eyes the way you changed your posture, your eyes wide open now shining a deep golden colour. Your hands spread out, fingertips wriggling around while the air around her felt heavier.

The hairs at the back of her neck stood up when your eyes gleamed brighter and your mouth mumbled intelligible words. Then, as soon as it started, it had ended.

You clenched your jaw, breathing hard your clear eyes turned to Natasha’s ones.

“Poveglia.” You mumbled. “And we have to move fast, Wanda is liberating her powers in an erratic way. There is a lot of physical pain and she seems to be losing a battle trying to hold back.”

Natasha nodded turning around, “then let’s move.”

You went right behind her, Yelena was already sitting on the co-pilot seat playing with a knife. She got ready as soon as she saw the both of you entering the Quinjet.

“You got it? That fast?” Yelena sounded surprised, sending you an inquisitive stare you smiled at her. Your lips completely tensed.

“I am good at what I do, Lena.”

Yelena snorted shaking her head and getting everything ready, “I don’t have a doubt about that.”

“Okay, then let’s move it. Fury will send reinforcements to our location. Tony is coming over and…”

“And we need Ajak and Sprite.” You replied nodding back to the town. “You need to pick them up, they are waiting for us in the cost.”

Natasha furrowed her brows, turning to you with some hesitation in her expression.

“I’m not sure that they…” Natasha trailed off, she examined your expression before shaking her head. “What other secrets are there, Y/N?”

“a lot more, that will be kept in that way, Natasha.” You replied standing in between the two Widows. “Let’s go. Wanda doesn’t have much time.”

_____________________________________________________________

Wanda could remember the last time she was torture in such a way.

Hydra had been experimenting on her and Pietro, trying to get the best of their powers by putting them through some hardships that left physical and emotional scars on them. She remembered the time her powers had been taken away from her, the pain of electric shocks through her body whenever she tried to access them and get free from her prison.

It had been the worst experience of her life.

Now, tied to the wall, with the same device around her neck and the death body of Vision on display, Wanda had to wonder why she fought so hard to defend these people. Why she fought so hard to be accepted when many of them wanted to put a number on them, and make sure they could be located it at all times.

When her freedom and privacy would be violated the same way she was being used at the moment.

Her lips parted, and her throat hurt the moment she let out another chilling scream into the room. Her eyes gleamed red and her power was expelled in waves of red mist. Her voice inside her head screamed with the same intensity, and the young woman could sense Scarlet fighting over the binds around her neck.

We need to free ourselves; we need to…

But her voice was losing her intensity.

“I know you can give me more, Wanda.” Hayward entered the room after the last explosion of energy, his eyes fell upon a cylindrical device tied to Vision’s grey body. The man pursed his lips touching the synthetic body before turning his eyes to Wanda. “I thought you love him. It is disappointing that, when giving the chance you decide to say no.”

Wanda took a deep breath, sweat falling down her face while her eyes flickered between red and green. Her glared would have scared the man in front of her if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew he could stop any attempts from her part to harm him. Hayward approached her with a kind smile, though her eyes were completely cold.

“If I were to take off the device…would you be inclined to help?” He asked, not for the first time, the same question.

Wanda took a deep breath, her mind clouding over to the implications of what Hayward was saying. The presence inside her head stirred once more, and she knew Scarlet would kill the man in front of her if they were given the chance to use their powers at its full potential.

“This is not the way…” Wanda breathed out. “Vision…if he comes back, he won’t be your weapon…”

Hayward snorted shaking his head, disappointed at such an answer.

“That’s too bad.” Hayward turned to Vision lifting his chin, arrogance dripping his voice as he spoke. “Your powers may return him to life, but I have made some modifications on that body. He will obey. This is for the greater good, we need a weapon like that to help us against people like you…People who obviously have powers they don’t deserve.”

“Vision would never…” Wanda started but trailed off when Hayward slapped her.

“Vision would do what I tell him to, and you will no longer be of any concern to the U.S government after today.”

Wanda lifted her face, her eyes burning with anger as she clenched her fist closed. In her eyes, the shadow of Scarlet was visible through the red colouring in her irises. The characteristic red mist forming slowly just as she tried to put up a fight against the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Hayward stepped back, his eyes gown wide though his lips pressed together in a thin smile; Wanda shook her head trying to collect her energy and getting herself freed from her current predicament.

“I won’t let you use Vision in such a despicable way, I won’t let you taint his memory!” Wanda struggled even harder, she held back her exclamations of pain feeling the energy moving through her body.

There was power surging through her, and the lights around them flickered through the sheer energy she was using. Hayward opened his eyes in shock, his feet moving back one step at a time not hearing the warning from his team just outside the room.

In no time, soldiers came in with their weapons at the ready all of them pointing at the witch that was now screaming in pain and anger. She was fighting over what had her imprisoned in that room, her mind breaking at some point when the electricity running through her body made it impossible for her to keep holding on.

Hayward let out a sigh of relief, he smiled lifting a hand to stop his soldiers from doing something stupid before moving to towards the door.

“That it’s all you need to do, Wanda.” Hayward smiled pointing to where the body of Vision was resting and the cylinder seemed to be gleaming red. He walked towards the door followed by his guards, with a last glance to a suffering Wanda Hayward exited the room. “Goodbye, Wanda.”

The world had not been fair with her.

Losing her parents, and her childhood was just the beginning of a life that would be filled with uncertainties and hardships. Pain seemed to be the only thing she knew pretty well, as an emotion and a feeling she had learnt to deal with as she grew older. Her body shivered with sweat rolling down her forehead. She didn’t know when it stopped, but it did. And suddenly everything around her was back to being black, the only sound that of her hard breathing.

She had tried.

She really tried to get out of this situation.

Her eyesight became blurry, and she hated the vulnerability she was feeling at the moment. How useless she was without her powers? Without the strength she relied on for so long, would she be able to survive? In a moment of clarity, she didn’t have before Westview, Wanda and Scarlet thought about their lives from the moment they lost their parents.

Falling into the hands of Hydra had been out of desperations, and getting the powers that led them to the Avengers was something that built in them a new purpose. A purpose Wanda lost in the Lagos incident. Every s ingle step she had taken had been wrong, every decision had led to more suffering, to her losing herself and letting others take advantage of who she was. Of what she was.

Until Vernazza.

Until Y/N.

For the very first time ever since she lost Vision, and she went away in the Blip Wanda was happy. She was at peace with herself and her past. She had forgotten the outside world that had pointed their fingers at her in fear and hatred, the ones that had forgotten her as a hero and now were screaming at her like a villain. For the very first time, Wanda understood why Natasha and Tony offered that gateway and the usefulness of such a time.

There was always time for a second chance, there was always time for making a difference and to step aside. Wanda stirred lifting her face, the room was dark still and she wasn’t feeling any strength in her body but now she knew what she had to do. She thought she knew what she wanted, that she was ready to go back to her life as a hero, as and Avenger…to show everyone she was not the bad person many thought she was. For the very first time, Wanda realized she needed to be happy for herself and nobody else.

We have fought many battles, we have faced many enemies but none as big as ourselves. It is time for us to decide who we are, and what we want to do. The voice of Scarlet sounded stronger, more confident that before and Wanda felt her power grow inside her chest.

“I thought we have decided already.” Wanda smiled and she could sense the smile of her alter ego in her mind.

Let’s get out of here, I don’t think she knows.

“I think we made her doubt.” Wanda finished before she took a deep breath.

And when she started gathering her inner strengths, the lights inside the room blinked to live. The body of Vision was completely visible, and there was no more doubts inside her mind. Wanda knew out there someone was looking for her, she knew that as soon as she did something help would come so she only needed time to make a big ruckus and hold until they get there.

With her usual determination, Wanda called upon her power closing her mind and body to the pain just as the lights inside the room started flickering. The device around her neck activated, and her lips opened up to let out a bloodcurdling scream inside the room. Everything in her body hurt, but she wouldn’t stop and push herself to the limit.

Wanda knew she was doing the right thing; she could hear the soldiers and the screaming of orders left and right. She could sense many thoughts, all of them scared or angered, and then just before she lost all consciousness…Wanda felt Y/N.

A flash of gold, a comforting warmth around her body and then only blankness.

_____________________________________________________________

Natasha had seen many heroes with superpowers fight before.

She had seen the good, the bad and the ugly learning how some of these powers could be a destructive forced that she usually thanked were on her side. She had seen Wanda fight, and she had been victim of her mind-altering technique; but never before had she seen what she saw in Y/N.

Poveglia was a small island located it in the venetian lagoon, it was a deserted island that many rumours said it was haunted. In all reality, it had been a secret Hydra based back in the World War Two and had been abandoned once the war was over and the newly founded SHIELD got control of the installations. It was supposed to be abandoned, but over the years it was obvious that the rumours about strange happenings in the island had been fed by those secret Hydra agents that were trying to continue with the groups secret dealings.

It was difficult for Fury to debrief everyone, and to assemble a team that would make sure this island was finally out of commission.

The place was heavily guarded, and Natasha feared it wouldn’t be as easier as she thought at first. That was until Y/N knelt down with a yelp of pain leaving her lips. Ajak was the first one by her side, speaking in a language the Widows didn’t recognize but that seemed to do the job.

“She…she is pain.” You stated through clenched teeth, your eyes gleaming brightly. “We need to…”

Ajak pursed her lips lifting your chin with two of her fingers, “peace, control, and power. Without them, you are nothing, Y/N.”

You nodded curtly standing up, you turned your back to them and walked towards the gate.

“Take care of everyone else, I will take care of this and the enhanced individuals inside.”

“Y/N we should wait…” Natasha started but trailed of when the switch changed and the gate started opening. “Y/N, WAIT!”

You didn’t wait.

Magic had always been a part of your life, you learnt to fight from Thena and Gil, and you had grown to be a great warrior thanks to them. Your frown increased as you landed in the backyard, the golden mist leaving your hands and pinning the soldiers to the ground. Your intention was not to kill, but you had learnt a long time ago that you were not above it.

Whatever you needed to do to keep your precious people safe.

Making your way inside the building was easier than you thought, your footsteps echoed in the building. You could hear the blasting sound of alarms and screams and shoots being fired; whenever you came across one soldier or a group of them, you were quick. Your fighting style was that of a seasoned warrior, and many of them were children before your eyes.

Your first problem was a young man.

He stood in front of you with his face marked by arrogance, his body muscular and filled out to resist heavy fights. He was dressed in black, with a strange armour covering his body and his hand armed with a combat knife. He smiled looking you up and down before assessing the threat.

“You don’t look like much.” He cocked his head to the side; he cracked his knuckles stepping forward before twirling the knife. “You have powers, I give you that. But you’re not the only one.”

You stood there taking a fighting stance, tilting your head to the other side you locked eyes with him. The young man hesitated for a second, before his arrogance was back into the game. He came at you with great speed, you side-step his first attacked barely missing the blade of the knife cutting through the air before he turned to you hitting you square in the face with his closed fist.

Your head bounced against the wall, an exclamation of pain left your lips before you dodged his next attack, that went right through the wall. You narrowed your eyes, this super strength was not something you were used to but at the moment you were more focused on other things.

Your leg lifted up hitting the young man on his back, his face crashing against the wall. You heard the crack of something breaking, but the young man turned as soon as he could and with the same technique he hit you squared on your midsection coming at you before hitting you once more in the face.

“You bitch!” You lifted your face dodging and blocking watching the blood coming down his broken nose. “You will learn!”

You lifted a hand and he stopped dead on his tracks, his eyes opened wide just as you lifted him in the air. Your golden eyes glancing at him with indifference before you pressed him against the ceiling of the place, he tried to struggle but it was useless.

“I could take your life with a single flickered of my hand.” You said coldly, your eyes falling on the knife he had dropped on the ground. “the energy I can sense in you would be enough to fee me for two more lives.”

The young man opened his eyes in terror, his struggling became frantic and you merely scoffed.

“I’m not interested in you, kid.” You stated walking forward. “Where is she?”

You waited for a moment before letting go of the man that soon fell to the ground, the young man was breathing hard. His face to the ground, his body trembling and spasming still quite sensitive to the magic that had pinned him to the ceiling. You turned around kneeling in front of him.

“Where is Wanda Maximoff?”

“Do—down the ha-hall.” He stuttered unable to move, you smiled patting his head like a dog.

“You won’t be able to move for a while, take this time to think over what you want to do next. Humans are not merciful with those who abused their privileges.”

He wasn’t the only one, and as you tried to make your way down the hall to what seemed to be a control room you realized many of these individuals were different. But were not natural, the energy they carried was fake, as if it had been forced through their bodies instead of being born inside them. You scoffed disgusted at the human experiments you seemed to be fighting, but your disgust was directed to the ones behind these poor souls that probably thought they were getting the deal of their lives.

They obtained strength through sacrifice.

Weapons. Tools.

You finally came to your destination, only to find a man standing with a full fledge army pointing their guns at you. This could have been a disaster if it wasn’t for the fact that the moment you stepped forward three different explosions shook the whole prison.

The ceiling came down, and the doors of the lab were thrown off their hinges with a red mist involving the room. Your eyes opened wide, you heard the order and your hand lifted to stop the bullets from reaching you and Wanda.

Wanda that was floating in a room with ropes and chains still hanging from her wrists and ankles, her neck covered with a black gadget and her mouth open in a rictus of pain. You flickered your hand, the magic around you expanded and the screams soon softened down while Wanda now in full Scarlet Witch mode dropped to the ground tired.

You ran to her side, your hand grabbing the collar around her neck.

For a moment you felt the voltage coming from it, and you merely used your inner strength to destroy the artefact and free the woman from it. The world around you kept spinning around, but your magic was protecting you from what was happening right outside.

Now with her in your arms, you could finally see the damage she had undergone.

With bags under her eyes, her face was covered in scratches and blood. She had signs of torture, and you could feel as her vital energy flickered dangerously in and out, as if she had been made to force her power on more than one occasion. Your hand trembled, your fingertips taking some strands of hair out of her face while you swallowed down your emotions.

You could sense others right outside your bubble of power.

You knew you were not alone; you could sense Ajak and Sprite, Natasha and Yelena and the life force of one Tony Stark. Your hand trembled when you moved away the hair from Wanda’s face, she had blood and a black mark on her cheek, anger went through your veins as you realized she had been tortured.

Then, your eyes lifted and you saw him.

The body of Vision.

A piercing pain went through your heart at the thought of Wanda trying to bring him to life. Of you losing her.

You swallowed down your doubts picking her up in your arms, Ajak showed herself in a moment glancing at your wounds and Wanda’s ones. She noticed the urgency in your eyes, and she knew you would not allow a single healing process in you until Wanda was okay.

“I think we better go; I need to see how badly she was wounded.” Ajak said pointing to the yard of the fortress.

“You better bring someone to take the body of Vision out of here and have someone check over the different technologies they have in here.” You spoke looking passed Ajak, Tony Stark stood with full armour and his face barely visible. “I think they had been experimenting with more than AI in this place.”

“Where are you taking her?” Tony asked with his eyes fixed on the redhead in your arms. “She needs medical attention; I can provide her with a good care.”

You scowled at the man, “she is out of energy, her magic had been affected by that disgusting gadget. She needs me and Ajak, Stark. When you have finished with this place, you are more than welcome to join us back home. No soldiers, no traps. Natasha would know how to locate us.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, instead you started walking down the debris helping yourself with your magic to move as fast as you could. No one dare to stop you, and Sprite alongside Yelena guarded your side as you went to the Quinjet that Natasha had been flying around.

Fixing Wanda in your arms, with tears in your eyes you waited until they carried you home.

_____________________________________________________________

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