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#we can get so much further speaking to the enemy than fighting them. a movement always needs more allies
falled-over · 2 years
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your politics must ALWAYS come from loving people first. dunking on people you hate should be the furthest thing from what drives your opinions. because if you don’t love the people you’re allied with, someone else will, and i can’t promise their politics will be as kind as your own are touted to be
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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years
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Great, my girlfriend is a toddler
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: ~4.5k
Warnings: one curse word (I think), mentions of past trauma (nothing graphic), and a lot of fluff
Summary: Reader is caught in a trap during a mission and ends up trapping herself in her five year old mind and body.
Author’s note: I know I basically just post incorrect quotes, but this idea came to me and I just had to write it. I won’t stop with the incorrects btw, and if you guys prefer I create a different blog to post these little stories just let me know. Without further ado, enjoy, and let me know what you think (this is my first time writing something like this too, so tips/remarks are always welcome).
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the marvel characters.
(Picture is not mine, got it on pinterest)
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“West wing clear”
“Basement clear”
“Guys I need some help here.” 
You heard through comms as your teammates infiltrated the Hydra base.
It was a fairly simple mission, small base, so not that many enemies to fight off.
As you made your way down an empty corridor to the control room you could listen to Bucky's grunts, and punches, on your earpiece as Sam and Steve made their way to him. 
The silence and emptiness was rather suspicious, but you made nothing off of it, thankful you would get in easily. 
“I’m in the control room.” You spoke when you found yourself surrounded by computers and all sorts of technology. It seemed quite ancient for an organization that has been a pain in your asses for the past months.
Hacking wasn’t your specialty, but you sure were better at it then the other three, hence you getting the task. Your eyes scanned the room, trained on identifying threats. Surprised by the emptiness of it all, you focused on finding the main system.
You plugged the pen drive Stark had prepared and started typing, your eyes occasionally leaving the screen to take a quick glance around the room, an uneasy feeling growing at the pit of your stomach.
“Y/L/N, we’re all clear here,” Steve’s voice rang on your ear, “how are you doing there.”
“I’m nearly done,” you stared at the computer as the information was downloaded to the little gadget, “I don’t know guys, something here feels wrong, it’s too empty, too quiet.” 
No response.
“Guys? Can you hear me?” Your heart rate picked up, something was definitely wrong.
In a second the download was complete, and you hastily snatched the pen drive, going for the door. Your desperation grew when you stated it was locked.
“Can anyone listen? I’m locked.” You spoke to the earpiece. “The doors locked automatically. I need help getting out.”
The door was sealed shut, not even a small slit in between it and the floor, your powers wouldn’t help you on this one. You tried to bring your heart rate down as your eyes scoured the room once again for a way out. No air vents, no windows, there was another door on the other end of the room, and you promptly made your way to it, only to confirm it was also locked shut.
Your attention was brought back to the first door, loud banging and a faint voice coming from the other side. Thankfully the boys noticed there was a problem and came to your aid. As you ran across the room, your head started to get fuzzy, your vision was not as clear as it had been seconds ago, and breathing was starting to get harder.
Before you even reached the still shut door, your body collapsed on the floor, everything going black.
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You stirred in bed, shifting to a more comfortable position. Some light seeped through your eyelids, but you were tired, dragging the sleep as long as possible. 
Your peace was broken by a door suddenly opening.
“What the hell happened?” A woman’s voice filled the room. She sounded angry, and upset, the hostility in her tone made you clutch the blanket harder.
“Wanda calm-” A man spoke, but was cut off by the woman.
“Calm down? CALM DOWN? Don’t you tell me to calm down, Stark, when I got back from a mission fifteen minutes ago only to learn that my girlfriend turned herself into a five year old toddler.” She was loud and it just made you even more scared of being in trouble.
A small whimper escaped your throat getting both people's attention. You opened your eyes only to be met by several stares, there were easily five or six people in that room, but you didn’t have time to count as you pulled the blanket over your head, bringing your knees closer to your chest.
Your body was trembling with fear from what you knew would come next. You hadn’t done anything, you had been a good girl, done your chores, never speaking unless spoken to, but for some reason the people from the orphanage took a particular liking in punishing you even when you hadn’t done anything bad.
You waited for it to come, but instead of the ill-disposed voice and harsh hands, you were met with a soft “hey” and a delicate hand. Nonetheless it was still frightened, making your whole body tense.
“I’m sowy, I didn’t do anyfing, pwease don’t huwt me, I’ve been good.” You cried out, tears threatening to fall.
The hand started to caress your arm soothingly.
“Hey Y/N, you’re okay, we’re not going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe here.” Your muscles relaxed slightly at the words, thick with an accent, and touch. Your mind was still on alert but for some reason your body responded to this woman in a way your mind didn’t understand.
“Seems like she lost her memories too, she still thinks she is in that horrible place.” A new voice spoke up.
“Hey Y/N,” the woman spoke close to you, low as not to frighten you further, “you’re not in the orphanage anymore okay? You are somewhere safe. Those people can’t get to you here.”
You peeked over the blanket and was met with mesmerizing green eyes, they seemed so kind and comforting putting you at ease.
“Pwomise?”
“I promise. No one’s going to hurt you. We will protect you.” She offered you a smile that made your lips want to curl into one too, despite your wariness of the woman still being a stranger.
You pulled the blanket back above your head, muttering a quiet “okay”. Your heart rate then picked up it’s pace once you noticed you would be punished for forgetting your manners, your mind still not fully understanding you were no longer in a dangerous place.
You yanked the blanket just below your chin, uncovering your whole face so you were facing the woman.
“Fank you, miss.” You spoke quickly and hid again.
She chuckled slightly and you couldn’t help but feel fuzzy.
“How about you stop hiding that pretty face of yours huh?” The words caused a smile to unconsciously tug at your lips, as you pulled the blanket down and started to sit up. “See, much better, right?” 
You stared at the figure in front of you with what could only be described as adoration. She was just so kind and beautiful you couldn’t seem to stop smiling. A slight movement behind her brought you out of your daze and you landed your gaze on the several people watching the interaction, people you had seemingly forgotten were still in the room.
Your eyes went wide and a gasp left your lips before you laid back down, covering your curled up body with the blanket again. The woman noticed what had frightened you and brought her hand back to caress your back.
“Hey, it’s okay, they’re only here to protect you too. They are just worried about you.” You didn’t move, this was too many new people and having all their eyes on you was making you nervous. “Do you want me to ask them to leave?” She whispered closer to your ear and you nodded excessively.
Sounds of chairs moving, footsteps and a door closing were heard before the room fell back to silence.
“We’re alone now.”
You peeked carefully outside the blanket to be sure you were alone. When you found the rest of the room empty, you moved to sit back up. Suddenly the idea of being alone with this woman made you very shy, your eyes watching as you wiggled your toes. 
“Fank you, miss.”
“Wanda”
“Wanda” You whispered, not taking your eyes off of your feet.
After a few moments of silence a question popped into your head.
“Why did you save me?” You tried to speak but the sound wasn’t higher than a whisper.
“What?”
“”Why did you save me.” You said louder. “The Sisters said that I was- I was a bad giwl, and that is why my pawents didn’t want me, and no one would want because I was bad and-”
“Okay, stop,” she cut off your rambling and you finally met her gaze, “all those things they said about you are not true, okay? Don’t believe any of that.”
“How do you know it is not twue.” Sadness seeping on your voice. “You don’t even know me.”
“Quite on the contrary, I happen to know you very well. I know you get grumpy when you wake up. I know you don’t like to wear dresses. I know you like to laugh and make lots of funny jokes. I know your favourite colour, favorite food, favourite animal, favourite movie… but most importantly,” she brought her hands to rest on your sides, “I know you are very ticklish.”  
At that she started to tickle you mercilessly causing you to fall back on the bed, a string of laughs and giggles escaping your mouth. She stopped after a few seconds and you took the opportunity to catch your breath.
“See. I know many things about you.” 
“Yeah.” You said amidst giggles. 
“And I know that none of those things the Sisters said about you are true.” 
“Fank you, miss Wanda.” She let out a laugh.
“You are too cute,” she pinched your cheeks causing you to feel shy all of a sudden, “just call me Wanda.”
Your gaze fell down to the mattress again.
“Okay, fank you, Wanda.” Your voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re welcome.” She brought her hand up to smooth your hair. “Do you want anything sweetie?” That little nickname just made you even more flustered, even though you couldn’t hide the smile that formed at your lips.
You pondered her question for a second, you were hungry, but you knew better than to ask for food outside of mealtimes, the memories of the punishments still fresh. After a few moments you shook your head.
“Are you sure?” She pushed. “Don’t you want to eat something?” It was almost as if she could read your mind. “You can tell me, it’s okay, no one will hurt you for being hungry. And we can fix up something for us to eat.” She must have noticed your hesitation. “Y’know, I’m a little bit hungry too.” She whispered close to your ear, her breath tickling your ear causing you to chuckle. 
Your mind knew this was a bad idea, that you would get punished after, but Wanda was just so convincing you ended up nodding weakly.
“There you go.” She cheered.
She picked you up from the bed, but before she could lower you to the floor your arms circled her neck and your legs, her waist. You couldn’t help it, you just wanted to be close to her. She giggled at your actions, but didn’t fight it, carrying you out of the room and into a big corridor.
When the sound of muffled voices started to grow louder, your posture became tense. Wanda took notice, rubbing circles on your back.
“Hey, it’s alright, they are nice, you’ll see.” She tried to calm you down. 
Your posture relaxed, but you weren’t sure if it was because of her words or just her general presence.
“Whewe awe we going?”
“To the kitchen.”
“And the people in the kitchen? Will they huwt me?”
“No honey, of course not, they care so much about you, they are here to protect you too.” 
As she made her way into the kitchen, you hid your face in the crook of her neck, trying to ignore how the room went quiet with your presence.
“How is she?” A male voice asked, you recognized it from moments earlier.
“She’s okay, a little scared, seems like she did also lose all her memories, everything she knows is from when she was five.”
Wanda moved around and kept up with the conversation, to which you stopped paying attention when your eyes fell onto a thing a man was eating. You had tried one of those before, once, when an old woman donated a basket of those to the orphanage and you managed to steal a small piece, it was delicious, tasted like heaven compared to all the tasteless food they gave you in that place.
Wanda settled on a chair and you kept your head hidden, but your eyes were locked on the man.
You thought you heard Wanda calling you, but your attention was entirely on that piece of food. The man seemed to take notice when he met your gaze and gave you a smirk. The eye contact would’ve made you shy away, but Wanda’s presence made you feel safe, so you held it.
“I think I know what she wants.” He spoke to Wanda. “Would you like a muffin Y/N?” He directed at you. You lifted your head from Wanda’s shoulder and, after a moment of hesitation, you nodded slowly.
He opened a cabinet and picked one up, handing it to you, offering a beaming smile. You stared at it for a second, not expecting him to give you a whole one. Your eyes darted from him to Wanda, looking for some sort of confirmation. 
“It’s okay, take it.” She smiled at you encouragingly.
You slowly stretched your hand and grabbed the item.
“Fank you, siw.” You practically whispered.
“You can call me Sam.”
“Fank you, Mw. Sam.” 
“Huh, Mr Sam, I can get used to that.” He joked. Or at least you thought he did, since now you were just blankly staring at the muffin, not really sure if you should really eat it, despite your stomach screaming for you to do so.
“Just call him Sam,” Wanda spoke to you, “and we can’t let her keep calling us that, Sam, she does it out of fear for disrespecting us.”
“Is that why she also hesitated from taking the muffin?” A new voice questioned.
“I don’t know Stark, maybe…” Wanda trailed off and you decided to help, since they were talking about you anyways.
“Fhey did not let us- let us eat out of meal time and-,” you took a breath trying to calm your nerves, “and thewe wewe too many kids so- so thewe was nevew enough food and- and,” your eyes went wide when you noticed everyone was staring at you intently and a whimper left your lips unconsciously before you shoved your face back into Wanda’s neck.
She rubbed your back in an attempt to calm you down and, surprisingly enough, it did. Something about her just made you so calm.
“You don’t have to worry about this here,” a man with glasses said, “we have plenty of food and no rules, you can have whatever you want whenever you want, just tell any of us and we’ll get it for you, deal?” You smiled at how nice they were being with you.
“Deal, siw.” You nodded.
“And call me Tony, please.” You nodded again.
“See, it’s fine, you're safe here.” Wanda reassured, giving you a kiss on your temple. The action caused a silly smile to grow on your lips and your cheeks to heat up, as you leaned into her chest.
 “Oh, come on, seriously?” A man with the same accent as Wanda blurted. “She has known you for, what? 20 minutes? And she already has a crush on you.” His comment made laughter erupt around the kitchen, and, even though you didn’t understand what was so funny, you enjoyed the moment. Laughter was not common in the orphanage.
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Throughout the rest of the day you started to feel more comfortable around everyone. 
Wanda never left your side, or, you were the one who never left her side. Spending the rest of the evening watching movies on the most amazing TV room you had ever stepped foot on. 
Other people would join you from time to time. Pietro, who you learned was Wanda’s brother; Natasha, or Nat as she preferred; Bucky; Sam; and Steve. 
You couldn’t quite pinpoint when it was that you fell asleep. You just knew you were now in a room you had never seen before, it was pretty, but unfamiliar. You saw a stuffed animal left on the edge of the bed and clutched onto it, trying to get the images from the nightmare you just had out of your mind.
Several minutes passed and you were just too scared to even close your eyes. Sleeping alone was something you never did, the rooms in the orphanage were filled to the brim with precarious beds or improvised mattresses due to the excessive amount of kids there.
Deciding that you wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore, you climbed out of bed and made your way out of that room. Your feet automatically took you to another door down a big hall. You knocked softly, but got no response. 
After three more tries, you turned the door knob and it opened. You put your head inside the room and detected a figure laying in a bed. 
“Wanda,” you whisper shouted, trying to catch the woman’s attention, “Wandaaa.”
She stirred and lifted her head to look at you, her eyes were sleepy, but she managed to give you a tired smile.
“Hey Y/N, is something wrong? Do you need anything?” 
“Can I- can I sleep with you?” Your gaze fell to the floor.
“Sure.” You smiled widely and ran towards her, climbing into the bed messily, since it was so ridiculously tall.
She laid on her back, opening her arms, and you took that as your chance to cuddle into her, wrapping your tiny limbs around her torso. She caressed your hair until you drifted to sleep.
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The next morning you woke up still cuddled to Wanda. She was still fast asleep, and looked so peaceful you didn’t have the heart to move and risk waking her. Plus, you liked the proximity, the warmth from her body, her arm hugging you close.
A few minutes passed before she opened her eyes, only to be met by yours.
“Good mowning.”
“Good morning princess,” you giggled at the nickname, “wanna go down and get some breakfast?”
You nodded eagerly, already used this new environment, without the rigid rules and punishments. She climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, you just sat up and watched as she washed her face or something. She then went through another door, which you assumed was where she kept her clothes since moments later she came back in different clothes.
She picked you up from the bed and took you into the kitchen. When she walked past the room, a confused expression grew on you.
“Whewe awe we going?”
“To the dining room, we usually have our breakfast there.”
“Oh, okay.”
And that was one breakfast table alright. All kinds of fruit, bread, cereal, cake, cheese and ham, and butter. 
“Look who found our little runaway.” Tony commented, but you didn’t give him any attention, mesmerized by the amount of food.
“Yeah, she found her way into my room in the middle of the night.”
“Really? How?” Steve asked.
“Good question, hey, sweetie,” Wanda caught your attention and you turned to look at her, “how did you know which one was my room last night?” You shrugged.
“I just knew whewe to go.”
“Seems like some part of her memory is still intact.” Stark remarked with interest.
Wanda sat down, with you in her lap and started serving food on her plate. The rest of the room fell into light conversation as you all enjoyed breakfast.
Soon you were interrupted by Bruce.
“Guys, I’ve got results from the tests.”
“Do you know what happened?” Steve asked eagerly.
“Kind of, the smoke she inhaled during the mission was poisonous, it was supposed to kill her, but it seems like her cells reacted to it differently.” He explained. “Her shapeshifting abilities reacted with the poison causing her body to, well, change, in order to avoid dying.”
“My powews wewe able to bweak down the poisonous gas into hawmless pawticles.” You responded automatically.
Everyone was shocked at your statement, but you just kept on eating like nothing had happened, not understanding what they were so surprised about.
“Yes… precisely,” Bruce added, slowly, “and that took a toll on her own cells, turning off her powers momentarily, why she got stuck as her five year old self with no memories whatsoever of the rest of her life is unclear.”
“Can you turn her back?” Nat asked.
“I can try and find some serum that reverts her situation, but, by the looks of it, her body is doing it on its own.”
“She did remember her way to my room last night, and now this. It means her memory is coming back.”
“Can you predict how long it’ll take for her to come back to her own self?” Bucky urged.
“Not really, this is all new to me. Although if I had to take a hint, I’d say a couple of weeks at least.” The scientist answered.
“But she will come back, right?” Wanda sounded preoccupied, and it caught your attention.
“Relax sister, she’ll come back. And even if she doesn’t, she’s already in love with you again anyways.” Pietro teased.
“That’s not helping.” She teased back and tightened her hold on you.
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A few days passed and, as expected, you were still stuck as a five year old. You would slip out little snippets of things from time to time, memories of things you’ve learned only when you were much older, but you still weren’t coming back.
After a while you fell into a routine. You would sleep with Wanda every night, watch movies with her and some of the other people in that place, Bucky and Sam would come up with the funnest games for you to play, Pietro would take you around the compound to help set pranks to play on the others. 
You grew accustomed to the place and the people. The lack of excessive rules was relaxing. How nice everyone was to you. When Wanda would call you cute nicknames and get you all shy and flustered.
You were now watching Frozen for the fifth time that week, with Wanda by your side and Nat, Peter and Sam scattered around the TV room.
They found it adorable how you sang along to every song even though you didn’t know any of the lyrics. Peter and Sam had now countless videos on their phones of you doing all sorts of things just to mock you when you came back to your older self.
The movie was nearing the end, now on the scene where they were rushing Anna to the trolls to see if they could help keep her alive. You sang along to the song up until the moment where Anna collapsed from the spell Elsa threw on her.
At that moment you mindlessly turned to Wanda, the words seeping out of your mouth without your control.
“You bettew not die on ouw wedding.” Her eyes went wide with shock from the statement, which you didn’t notice. 
“What?” She whispered, more to herself than to you.
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna mawwy you one day.” You gave her a smile and turned your attention back to the TV, unaware of what you had just said as a blush creeped around Wanda’s face.
When the movie ended, you chanted for you guys to watch it again, earning a groan from everyone. When a yawn escaped your lips, Wanda took that as her cue.
“C’mon, honey, you are tired, we can watch it again tomorrow.” She picked you up.
“Pwomise?” You gave her your puppy eyes.
“I promised.” She pecked your nose, earning a giggle from you.
You settled in her bed as you waited for her to shower and join you. You cuddled into her and drifted off to sleep.
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You woke up feeling extremely weird, your muscles ached and your head was spinning a little. You kept your eyes closed as memories from the past days came back to you. The mission going wrong, you waking up in the med bay. 
And then you remembered.
“Holy shit.” You whispered to yourself, careful not to wake Wanda.
You had spent the past week as a five year old. Every moment started to come back. You playing hide and seek with Sam and Bucky. That time you and Pietro showered Nat with glitter,  and how she almost killed the boy later. Tony being a dad all the time, checking up if you needed anything and making funny faces to make you laugh. Steve carrying you around inside his shield. 
And Wanda, always being there with you. Taking care of you. Watching the same movies all the time. Cuddling every night. 
Your attention was caught by the woman stirring in bed next to you, still fast asleep. She had been so patient throughout the whole situation that you couldn’t help but smile.
You propped yourself up on one elbow, facing your girlfriend. You watched for a few minutes while she was fast asleep. Just appreciating how beautiful she was and how peaceful she looked. You were falling even more in love with her, if that was possible.
Not being able to hold yourself back any longer, you gave her a lingering kiss to her forehead, moving then to her cheek, leaving small pecks all the way. You then moved to her jaw and neck, inhaling her scent, as your free hand started to draw circles on her stomach.
You felt her breath changing, indicating she was no longer asleep and directed your lips to her ear.
“Good morning, my love,” you whispered softly, pecking her earlobe gently. 
Her hands grabbed your cheeks and moved you up to face her, her expression one of full happiness.
“You’re back.” She whispered moments after, trying to convince herself that it was true.
“I’m back.” You leaned down to capture her lips in a long and passionate kiss, resting your forehead against hers’, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she moved so she could stare into your eyes, “I missed you.”
“Why? I was here the whole time.” You teased.
“You know what I mean.” Your smile grew as you leaned in again, your lips meeting in another gentle kiss.
“At least we learned two things from this experience,” she eyed you with curiosity, “first, is that no matter what I’ll always be in love with you,” you referred to the crush five year old you had on her, and enjoyed as her cheeks turned bright red, “and second, is that you are great with kids.”
“I am, aren’t I.”
You spent hours in bed, cuddling, kissing and laughing at your childish antics from the past week.
That’s when you knew, you would marry that girl.
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shurisneakers · 3 years
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harmless (xiii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol
Word count: 6.2k
A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 
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Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?
Saturday started normally enough.
Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.
He still thinks it was worth it.
The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.
Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.
He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.
Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.
He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.
An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 
He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.
“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”
Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.
Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.
“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.
He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.
“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.
“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.
“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.
He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 
The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 
But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.
“Speak,” someone commands off camera.
“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.
“Why you’re here.”
“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”
“I warned you to take this seriously.”
Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 
The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.
“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”
”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”
“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”
“On it.”
“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”
"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”
“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.
You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.
“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”
He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”
“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”
“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.
“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.
“Okay, jeez, fine.”
Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.
He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.
“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”
“Do you think she has a strategy?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”
“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”
“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”
“Let them come. I’m prepared.”
“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”
“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”
“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”
“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”
“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”
The camera cuts to black.
“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.
“About ten minutes ago.”
Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.
[email protected] just sent you an email.
A video attachment.
“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.
This time, there’s a subject line included.
Attack on the Clone.
"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.
"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."
Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.
“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”
“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.
“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”
“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?
When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.
This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.
"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.
There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 
Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  
"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"
"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."
It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 
"And they listened?"
"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."
"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."
Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.
"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”
“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.
“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”
They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.
“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.
“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”
“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”
Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.
__
For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.
True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.
He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.
The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.
He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.
Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.
He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.
A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.
“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.
“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.
“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 
They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.
“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 
______
“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 
“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.
“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.
“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 
“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”
“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”
“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”
“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.
“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”
“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.
“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”
His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.
“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”
“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.
“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”
“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.
“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”
“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”
“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 
“Megedagik,” he corrects.
You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”
A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 
“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”
“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.
The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.
“Slow and painful,” he settles. 
A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 
“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.
_____
It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.
Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 
Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?
His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 
He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.
“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.
The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 
“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”
A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.
He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.
He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 
Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 
It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.
There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.
“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 
“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.
“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”
“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”
“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”
“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”
“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”
He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”
“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”
A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.
“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”
You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.
You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”
The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.
“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”
“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  
“Yay.”
The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 
“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”
“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.
He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.
“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”
He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.
“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.
"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.
“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”
“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.
“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.
“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”
“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”
“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.
“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.
“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”
“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”
He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 
“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 
“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.
“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 
“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.
“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.
“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.
The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 
“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”
“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.
“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”
“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”
If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.
“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.
“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”
“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”
There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.
“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.
“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.
Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 
There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 
“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.
“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.
“Maybe I will, you bore.” 
Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.
You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 
“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.
He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.
“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 
“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 
“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 
“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 
You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 
“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 
The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.
Another you.
“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.
“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 
“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.
Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.
“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”
“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.
“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.
“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.
“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.
“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”
No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.
“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”
“Can’t really say the same about you.” 
“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”
He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”
“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”
“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 
“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”
“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”
“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”
“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”
“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.
He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.
The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”
“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.
“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 
“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.
“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”
“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”
“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”
“Two.” 
“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”
He thinks it’s good relationship development.
“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”
“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”
“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”
“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”
Busted.
“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”
“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”
“You literally put it in the title.”
“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”
“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”
“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”
His nose twitches.
“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.
“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 
“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”
“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”
“No,” he says stiffly. 
“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”
There was no winning this. 
“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.
“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”
“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”
“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”
“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”
“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”
He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.
You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”
He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.
You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.
“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.
“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.
“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”
“But you don’t.”
He really didn’t.
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also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed
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Draw your swords, pt. 2
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Summary: While marriage was the last thing he’d want, especially with his enemies’ daughter, the Darkling isn’t above playing dirty to get what he wants. But his wish for a wedding night turns sour once he realizes his bride is anything but a weak human.
Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual references
Part one   
===========================
Walking down a hall, Y/N felt her heart drop as they neared a room meant for them. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized Darkling’s faithful Grisha followed them every step of the way.
Stopping moments before she walked into her now husband, Y/N turned on her heel. With a smile believable to anyone with an outsider’s perspective, she folded her hands before her abdomen.
“Did you guys enjoy the wedding?” Her voice is light, cheerful even. It felt odd, enough for Kirigan’s eyes to narrow at Ivan and Fedyor who replied simultaneously.
“Yes.” “No.”
Chuckling, she raised her eyebrows, “Well, did you both attend the same wedding?”
Swallowing thickly, Fedyor decided to speak for Ivan who was still disgruntled nearly as much as Kirigan.
“The wedding was perfect and you were a vision.”
Humming, she nods, “I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of time for you as it was for me. Good evening.” Turning her back on their flabbergasted faces, Y/N lifted her chin before entering the room on her own.
She could hear Kirigan’s annoyed sigh as he dismissed his Grisha, but the sound of the doors closing truly rattled her insides. Looking to him, she held her breath to stop a shuddered one from escaping her.
"I understand it's not what you expected", he smiled frostily. "I had plans that didn't include you either. But I suppose we'll both have to make do."
She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "Make do?"
It was their wedding night, doors shut with no witnesses and the marriage arranged for the two of them felt like a noose tied around her neck. She swallows thickly, hyper aware of the bed dominating the room behind her and her hands, wrapped in each other behind her back have begun to tremble.
The general she married leaned back against the door, looking her up and down with a smile of slow appreciation. "Well, you are mine now."
"I may be tied to you by state laws, but I am not yours", she spat.
"No", he smirked, "Not yet." He peels away from the doors, stepping closer. He takes off his black kefta, draping it on a chair. Beginning to unbutton his black, silk shirt, the General looked at her as if she were a caged bird meant for his amusement.
"There are some traditions for tonight", he took one step toward her as he hummed.
"Are you familiar with the word defenestration?" She raised her voice ever so slightly, refusing to step back in fright. He does not get to challenge her and win. Not now, not ever. She does not draw back in a fight, her father taught her so.
"No", he raised an eyebrow, unsure what she means.
"If you come anywhere close to me", she growled out, "I will make sure you find out first hand."
"Don't be so quick to dismiss a good time", he purred, coming closer.
"Oh please, my heel is bigger than your dick."
Raising his eyebrows, the Darkling nearly scoffed at her confidence in this matter. "How can you be so sure when you've never even seen it?"
"No man with anger like yours could ever have something in his pants worth my time."
"You are my wife, are you not?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers in contempt.
"Unfortunately."
"Glad you're aware of it", he licks his lips, "Means we're on the same page."
"Same page? We're not even in the same book!"
Those eyes of hers, as fierce and unperturbed by anything he did, could swallow stars and galaxies and universes. As far as he's concerned, she did for he could see them all mirrored in the defiance she locked her gaze onto his with.
"This", he whispers aggressively. "You", he presses closer until his lips are but a faint inhale away from hers, "Are mine. He gazes down at her, gauging her reaction, his eyes burning.
"You're a demon", she speaks through gritted teeth. "I don't trust demons, I don't lay with demons", she pushed against his chest with both her hands, "All you do is destroy."
"I’d say the same thing about you, human."
Rolling her eyes at him, she refuses to relent. Her body is tense, her neck aching from looking up at his dark presence she would not bend before. She isn’t a horse to be broken, she’s a soldier, her father’s daughter.
“Why are you glaring at me?” He grumbled, his lips nearly brushing against hers and she noticed.
Her heart skipped a beat once she realized just how close he is, “I’m hoping you’ll combust spontaneously.”
Raising an eyebrow, a cold smile forms on his lips, “Ah, how cute. But you’re no Inferni.”
“I’m better”, she brought her knee up so swiftly he didn’t see it coming. As her knee collided right between his legs, Kirigan bent over, bellowing in pain.
“Don’t you know who I am?!” He growled with fury, struggling to straighten up. Forced to look up at the smug smile upon her lush, rosy lips, Kirigan never felt more enraged by a woman before.
“I do.” Shrugging, she sat at the bottom of the bed. “I just don’t fucking care. You don’t scare me.”
His gaze felt like fire, setting every inch of her skin aflame and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was hate or lust that burned so bright within him….within her. Either way, she knew she’d be teasing him like this every day if it meant he’d look at her like that. She always did like playing with fire, Inferni or not, and Kirigan just made himself an easy target.
On one knee, he gripped the sheets in an attempt to pull himself up, yet all he could do is groan and clutch his groin.
Gripping his chin, she locked her gaze on him with an unforgivable disobedience. “I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. I’m not a dutiful wife who desperately seeks your attention. I’m a general’s daughter. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.” Turning his head to the door, she leans in and whispers in his ear. “And now you can leave while your manhood is still relatively untouched.”
“I could kill you for this”, the Darkling threatens, wishing he could wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the resistance out of her along with her life.
“I’d like to see you try”, she sneered. Standing abruptly, she turned her back on him.
Sitting with his back against the doorframe, Darkling glared at her with burning passion – for vengeance, of course. While he assumed she’d be difficult, he didn’t presume her to be as strong-willed. A part of him was certain she’d cave once he turned on his charm, but she never allowed him to.
Noticing her hand movement, he quickly realized she’s unbuttoning her kefta as well. In seconds, his eyes widen as she slips the kefta off her shoulders and it falls to the floor. Nothing but a sheer gown hugs her body so tightly, the Darkling felt his breath stop in his throat.
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on him, “Do you have no manners?”
She kept her eyes locked on his as she turned, opened her gown and slipped it from her shoulders, exposing her body to him. In his eyes appeared a mix of hunger and desire in such intensity that she was both excited and frightened.
“I’m the only one allowed to look at you, that’s a right you can’t strip me of.”
In time it takes for a heartbeat to echo in her ears, the Darkling stood before her. She took a shuddering breath as he gathered her into his embrace.
“Are you planning on forcing yourself onto me?” Y/N’s jaw clenched as her nostrils flare.
Pressing his lips together, his dark eyes narrow in disbelief, “Do you honestly believe me to be so evil?”
Speaking through gritted teeth, she remarks, “Yes.”
Nodding, her purses his lips. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Kirigan moves away from her. He straightens his back, finishing unbuttoning his shirt until the end – just before he lets it fall to the ground.
She swallows thickly, refusing to look anywhere below his chin. For a moment, she could have sworn a flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but she blamed the candlelight for the deceit. There is nothing good, nothing human in general Kirigan. He cannot feel hurt and she refused to let him past her defenses. She will not feel for him, she will not fall for him. He’s a task she had to manage, nothing more.
Unzipping his pants, he took the rest of his clothes off.
Her eyes flicker to his middle as he heads to the bed, realizing he’s wearing undergarments.
Relieved, Y/N opened the drawers, finding herself a proper nightgown to cover herself with. Once her body was no longer open to his view, she looked to him with pursed lips.
“I will not touch you”, he rolls his eyes, “But we are married. Might as well make the rest of the world believe the arrangement is somewhat functional.”
Looking at the door, she contemplated leaving. Sharing a bed with someone, anyone, was intimate. It required trust, love, a sense of safety and loyalty she certainly didn’t share with Kirigan.
“If you choose to leave, it will be all they talk about it the morning”, Darkling warns her and she huffs.
“If you lay a hand on me, I’ll be seeing you at the end of the altar once more. But in a casket during your funeral”, she glares at him and he can’t help but chuckle at her words.
He watched her settle in the bed, beside him. Placing a pillow between them seemed rather odd, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he half expected her to make an attempt on his life on their wedding night. He still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do the same.
“Sweet dreams, wife”, he smiled as she blew out the candle and the darkness settled in. He always felt comfortable in the dark.
She never felt comfortable in darkness, but he’d never know. She would be brave from now on – she wouldn’t bend, break or bow to anyone.
“I hope your dreams are filled with Volcra”, she snapped before turning on her side, further away from him.
Eventually, despite her initial distrust for the man, Y/N fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. She shifted in her sleep, throwing her leg over Kirigan’s, her hair twisting round and round his arm.
But the Darkling did not fall asleep immediately. She moved against him and snuggled closer. Even though she wouldn’t come close to him awake, she reached for him in her sleep. She wanted him nearby and it drew a smile to his lips. Catching himself smiling, the Darkling sat up in distress.
She may be appealing, but he cannot get attached to her. Ever.
His heart beats loudly, deafening so, his mind unable to slow down even for a moment. How could he fall asleep when he knew this angel beside him was simply a devil in disguise?
She’s a human – daughter of his enemy. Once she serves her purpose, the Darkling knew what he had to do. Turning her back on her side, he fixes the pillow in the middle. She’s a human, fleeting, he’s eternal and he will not allow himself the weakness of caring for someone like her.
Just as his mind drifts, he feels an arm wrap around him and he tenses up, eyes opening wide. “Fuck.”
Tags: @kaqua​ @savannah-elliott​ @all-art-is-quite-useless​
PART 3
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milkbaer · 3 years
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heyyy there!! could you maybe do a fic with nikolai where the reader is a heartrender and they’ve been happily married and filling Ravka together for a while now, and she finds out that she’s pregnant and tells him, please?
Summary: Y/N feels a little different and Nikolai is over dramatic.
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x heartened fem!Reader
Warning: not edited
Wordcount: 1.4k
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. If you’re still around anon, I hope you enjoy it. 😊
Becoming queen had never been a dream of you. As a little girl you deemed of the fairytale prince to sweep you off your feet, and ride with you on his white steed into dawn. But if someone would’ve told you that you’d marry a blonde fairytale prince and become queen, you wouldn’t have believed them.
And yet it was true.
Ruling Ravka side by side with Nikolai wasn’t easy. You had experience in making hearts race but not ruling. Ravka wasn’t easy, enemies flanked you left and right. And a Grisha tsarina, sitting on the throne, wasn’t necessarily what Ravkans wished to see. However, over the years you managed to win their hearts. Not of everyone, but people knew and loved you for your charity. They loved that their new rulers didn’t shy away of responsibilities and problems. Simply they loved that they could see their tsar and tsarina, not like the previous ones who liked to hide behind walls of gold and parties, not caring what their people had to endure.
When your popularity grew Nikolai simply murmured into your ear: “See? I told you you’d win their hearts the way you won mine.”
The days in Ravka couldn’t be better. You woke up with the love of your life by your side, golden locks tousled, and his cheeky grin exchanged with sleepy loving murmurs. For once you hadn’t to fear enemies attacking your home and so far, there was no drought or famine either. Life in Ravka wasn’t perfect but it was great. Your life couldn’t be better. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that it was all real and not something your mind has spun out of a fairytale.
However, the past few days you felt something off. It was as if you could feel an echo of your heart, ringing through your body. Deep inside there was a second heart, you felt it. But you weren’t sure. It all could be something different. Your heart playing tricks on you. Or maybe it wasn’t even yours?
Maybe you felt something from the outside.
But no, you were sure that this fast, shallow beat came from you.
Your first thought was a baby. After all the first years of your marriage the only thing missing was an heir to the throne to round it all up. Your period missing would be one indicator, but you knew that you couldn’t simply rely on that. The queen’s cycle wasn’t known for its reliability.
How perfect would a little Nikolai be?
In the mornings when you woke up beside him, combing his hair with your fingers and watching him doze you imagined his reaction. How happy he’d be to hear that a new sobachka would’be coming. For days you dreamed of his reaction. Yet you weren’t really sure if your assumptions were true.
As discrete as it was possible for a queen you went to see the best healer in the Little Palace. If you a heartrender could feel it, she as a healer would know for sure, right?
“I’ve been feeling this second heartbeat,” you told her, eyeing her reaction. For some reason sitting in front of a trained and much experienced healer made you insecure. Not insecure of your body or position. But maybe it wasn’t a second heartbeat, maybe it wasn’t your and it was all just your imagination. The strong wish of bearing a child.
She nodded listening to your words, examining your body with her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is but I was thinking … maybe it’s pregnancy?”
The healer nodded again. Brows furrowed she stared intensely at your belly, as if she could see right through it with her eyes. “May I?” She asked and when you nodded, she laid her cold hands on your abdomen.
“Any sign of blood?”
“No,” you said, hesitating. “But it’s seldom steady.”
She nodded yet again, hands roaming over your skin. There wasn’t much to see or feel yet, your stomach looked pretty much the same. Her face scared you, filling your head with doubts. She looked so concentrated and harsh, with no hint of a smile or any other sign of positivity. It made you think there was something wrong.
She looked up at you. “Moi tsarina, you were right. I can feel something too,” she said and then she merely hinted a smile for the first time. “There’s a tiny heartbeat. But we should do some further examinations, only to be sure.”
Now it was your time to nod. You simply led her do whatever she believed was needed to be done. After a while she returned with a smile on her face. A real smile, the first you’ve seen on her this hour. Smiling she simply said: “Congratulations, Your Highness.”
. . .
Sitting on your bed you watched sun and moon slowly change places. The only thought occupying your mind was how you were going to tell Nikolai and imagine his reaction. You were thrilled to tell him but hadn’t seen him since breakfast. Today had been more packed and eventful for him than you thought. You just hoped that he’d get some sleep and work through the night.
As the sun finally said its goodbyes your love busted through the door. Concern was painted all over his face as rushed over you, letting the door hit the wall. You jumped at his bursting energy, but it also confused you. With wide, quick strides Nikolai was by your side, kneeling before of you, taking your hands in his. “Are you alright darling? They said you were at the healer, for almost an hour.”
His hands were quick, faster than his tongue. You couldn’t return anything before his hands rushed to your face to feel your temperature. His movements were hectic, almost slapping your face. “I’m sorry. I was so busy, I didn’t even notice – I couldn’t take care of you.” But Nikolai slumped down when he found no sign of fewer. “You’re sick and I’m fighting with Dukes over potatoes and kvas.”
“Nikolai,” you said, hoping to stop him but when he found no fewer his hand roamed further, looking for any other sign of sickness.
“I’m sorry for not being there enough for you,” he apologized, pressing different spots on your arms, hands and your neck. But he couldn’t find anything. Nikolai was desperate to find anything. However, he was so worried that he didn’t even let you speak. The young kind was too occupied to play physician and finding nothing.
At one point you had enough and used your hands to slow his heartbeat down. You rarely used your heartender abilities on him, only if he asked you to do so. It didn’t seem fair otherwise. But right now, he didn’t leave you any choice. “Love, please calm down.”
Influenced by your powers he let out a deep, rather relaxed breath and looked into your eyes. You cupped his cheeks and were tempted to kiss the tip of his nose, his brows, lips or any other part of his face. But you doubted he would listen to you when you kissed him first.
“Nikolai, I’ve to tell you something,” you said and contemplated about the way you’d do it. Simply proclaiming that you were pregnant seemed a bit boring to you. “You’re no longer my sobachka.”
Confused the blonde king furrowed his brows. Were you breaking off with him? Did you want a divorce? “Are you saying?” He didn’t know what you were saying. “I am not sure if our bond can be broken.”
“What? No!” You said in protest. Breaking off with Nikolai was the least thing you wanted. “I said that because there will be another sobachka.”
“Another?” Why did he look offended now? You really had hoped that he would get it, especially with the visit at the healer. Maybe you had slowed down his heart too much.
“Nikolai,” you sighed, defeated. Gently you caressed his cheeks and pecked his lips, you couldn’t resist anymore. He was so clueless; a kiss couldn’t do any more harm. “I’m pregnant.”
You could see how joy lit up his face. “Do you mean we will be?” He asked, overly excited, more than you had expected. Soon it was him who cupped yourface and kissed you senseless, covering your face in sweet kisses. “Are you serious?”
His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh with joy. You nodded. Nikolai kissed you again. But this time he captured your lips in a long, giddy kiss, where you could feel his grin against your lips. And after that he kissed you again, and again.
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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language and violence Warnings: Choking (kinda) Summary: Local feral human makes a friend, tries to sleep next to local mean vampire, then gets a taste of their own medicine Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!
3: Haunt Me Dearly
What a lovely crimson mess I’ve made, you think, watching as the last of the bloody water drained from the bathtub. There were still several splashes of red along the sides, where you had leaned on or otherwise touched. Frowning, you considered whether or not to clean up after yourself. Surely it wouldn’t be one of your captors doing the cleaning? In that case, you think, I don’t want to make any enemies out of the servants. First you had to finish binding your wounds. Wouldn’t want to risk getting them dirty so soon after washing them, after all. Except you weren’t even sure that you could properly wrap them on your own, considering the positioning of your injuries.
“Ah, fucking hell…” You muttered, scowling a little. Then you remembered that Cassandra had sent a maid to wait outside the bathroom for you. Maybe they could help? Nodding to yourself, you threw on your new undergarments and pair of trousers, deciding to save the shoes for later. Once you were ‘decent’, you slowly opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Before long you were making eye contact with an unfamiliar woman, who looked very confused. “Any chance you could help me bandage my shoulder? I can’t do it without help, and something tells me Cassandra’s not going to lend me a hand.” With that said, you gave her a friendly smile, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of the situation.
“Of course! It is my honor to serve a guest of my Lady,” the maid- servant, maybe- said, giving a short curtsy. Admittedly you’re a little confused by her response. Still, you gladly welcome her assistance, moving back into the bathroom to grab the gauze. Although you intend to do as much as you can on your own, the woman is quick to take over completely. “Please, allow me,” she continued, carefully beginning to wrap your wounds.
“Are all the workers here so polite? I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys working here, all things considered,” you mused, squinting at the middle distance. At that, the servant tenses up, clearly not expecting you to speak ill of her employers. Well, she had called you a guest. “Don’t be surprised, friend. Less than an hour ago I was fit to be consumed by ‘your Lady Cassandra’. Only reason I’m not dead right now is because of a stupid blood bond,” you explained, tone dripping with irritation. This time the servant doesn’t flinch at all, instead nodding slowly, taking a moment to let your words sink in. During this pause, you decide to introduce yourself, just in case the two of you might see each other frequently.
“I… see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter the circumstances of your presence here. You can call me Daphne, though I must warn you that I am not one for, ahem, gossip about my masters,” she replied, finishing her binding of your shoulder wound. Next she searched through the cabinet by the sink, looking for a medicinal salve of some sort. Once she found it she was right back to work. The substance stung a tad on your skin, but you could hardly complain, seeing as it would help fight off possible infections.
“You sure about no gossip? What if we call it ‘helping me get acclimated to my new situation’? I’m a fish outta water here, Daphne,” you suggested, turning your head to look her in the eyes. At first she ignored you, focusing on rubbing the medicine into your skin. Eventually she meets your gaze, briefly, and releases a quiet sigh.
“You are free to ask questions-” you start to celebrate, though not for long- “just as I am free to withhold answers. Though I may be more responsive if you can tell me one thing… Why was Lady Cassandra’s dress wet?” Daphne asked, making you freeze in place. Of course she wanted the one answer you didn’t feel confident about giving. She’s quick to notice this, though, and laughs to herself. “Well, I suppose some things must remain a mystery. Now let’s get your face cleaned up…”
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By the time you make it to Cassandra’s room, the sun is starting to rise, leaking in through the castle windows. Exhaustion weighs you down, making you want to fall immediately into the nearest bed. As it stands, that was none other than your soulmate’s, though it was currently occupied. For a moment you hover in her doorway, contemplating whether or not you should steal her blanket. Floor can’t be too bad, you think, right? Before you can decide you notice Cassandra stirring from her sleep.
“What took you so fucking long?” She asked groggily. Now she’s sitting up, blanket clinging loosely to her body, and you realize that she’s not wearing a shirt. Though a blush rishes up your cheeks, you’re certain it’s too dark for Cassandra to notice. Or at least you hope so. Wanting to think about something other than what she was (or was not) wearing, you focus your energy on responding.
“Isn’t it obvious? I got invited to a sick orgy on the way back, and I wasn’t about to turn that down, so…” You trailed off, gesturing idly with your hands. The movement stretches your shoulder more than you’d like, resulting in an ache that lasts several seconds. It distracts you to the point where you almost can’t catch the object Cassandra promptly throws at you. “What the hell…?” It’s a shoe, as far as you can tell, that definitely would have hurt, had it hit its intended target. “Such a lovely gift, babe. I will treasure it for the rest of my days, forever keeping it as a reminder that you-” your tone shifts from a false joy to deadpan- “are a piece of shit. Now, seriously, where am I supposed to sleep? Is there a walk-in closet I can camp in? Or do I get the bed, while you sleep in a fucking coffin or something?”
Before Cassandra has a chance to respond, you’re walking further into her room, wanting to take a quick look around. There’s a large dresser that you quickly toss her shoe inside, as well as a window sill with a built-in reading nook. Trading your tiredness for sheer dickery, you throw open the curtains, letting the light pour in (and nearly blind you in the process). Half of you expects your soulmate to screech in response. Maybe even turn to ash. Instead, you hear her moving, and you turn to find her laying back down, facing away from you.
“When you’re done fucking around, come over here and sleep. I will knock you out if I have to,” Cassandra muttered, still sounding half asleep. As much as you wanted to know if she’d go through with her threat, you are exhausted. Begrudgingly you approach the bed. It’s certainly large enough for two people, even having enough room for you to be completely separate from each other. When you start to climb in, you find yourself overwhelmed for a moment, surprised at the quality of the sheet fabric. Exactly how rich were these vampiric assholes? This room alone seemed to be worth more than you had ever known.
This was, perhaps, the one bright side to your situation: A comfortable state of existence. Well, as comfortable as one could get in a place like this. So lovely on the outside, a muse worthy of a thousand artists, yet hiding far darker horrors within… much like the woman you now found yourself laying beside. Why me? Why her? What could possibly bring the two of us together, you think, other than a cruel fate? There’s a pain in your chest, dishearteningly similar to heartache. Damning the universe, and your blood bond, and yourself, you think ‘fuck it’ before sliding closer to Cassandra. One arm drapes itself over her waist, while you slowly lean your head against her back.
In an instant she’s tense, not even breathing, waiting for you to reveal whatever trick hid up your sleeve. But no trick comes, just your hand meeting hers, squeezing softly. Suddenly the tension is gone. None remains, not even lingering in the air, and the two of you soon drift off to sleep...
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Shaking, body made a wreck through tremors, tears staining her cheeks. Breathing comes hard, each shift of her lungs bringing with it a mighty ache. Someone’s holding her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, fingers tracing circles against her back. But she’s lost in her dream, eyes clenched shut. Visions flash before her gaze like lightning in a storm. There’s no time to process, no opportunity to prepare for the thunder that follows. Every strike is a punch to the gut she can’t ignore. When release finally comes, it is not a gentle kiss to her forehead, or a reassuring hand on her own, but rather an intense surge of pain that jolts her awake.
Cassandra nearly screams as she sits up, hands reflexively going to hold her head. One of them stings, bad, and she notices what look like bite marks on the side. For a moment her confusion acts as a welcome distraction. Then she’s looking next to her, and the puzzle practically puts itself together. There you are, one hand in your mouth, an eyebrow raised as you stare at her. Ignoring the lingering memories of her dream, she turns all of her rage towards you. Quickly she grabs ahold of your arm, forcefully yanking your hand out of your mouth, even though it makes your teeth dig in a little deeper. It takes more willpower than she wants to admit to stop herself from strangling you right then and there.
“I didn’t know monsters could even have nightmares,” you taunted. Before you know what’s happening, Cassandra is lunging towards you, pressing her forearm against your throat. There’s just enough pressure to make talking difficult. Both of her yellow eyes are filled with hatred, aimed right at you, but you can’t help but laugh. “Ya know, I did try to wake you up nicely. I should have known you only respond to violence. Next time, though, I’ll remember to stay a safe distance away.”
“You don’t know anything, dipshit. Anyone else would know better than to spout so much fucking ignorance, but nobody taught you how to behave, huh?” Cassandra growled, applying more pressure with her arm, leaving you unable to reply (for once). “You’re a goddamn mutt, aren’t you? Thrown to the street like the garbage you are, left to live in the gutter, feeding off of trash like a fucking cannibal. You should be honored to be allowed anywhere near me. You should be worshiping me, for fuck’s sake!” Black dots form in your vision, a dark halo edging into the corners of your eyes, as your lungs beg for air. But you’re grinning. You’re showing your teeth, bright and proud, knowing full well that you have won this round. As soon as realization dawns on Cassandra’s face she’s pulling herself off of you.
Still, you are left gasping, clutching at your neck as she hurriedly gets dressed for the day. By the time you can see properly again, she’s left without another word. Even as she stalks down the corridor, eagerly rushing away from you, she hears your laughter howling through the castle. It digs into her brain, taunting her. Soon enough you’ll stop, light headed, but she will still hear it echoing inside her mind. You’ll haunt her just as much as her wicked dreams. Hopefully more.
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let-them-read-fics · 3 years
Text
Rivalries Of The High Seas
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Requested By Anon: "Pirate AU, enemies to lovers."
AU: Pirate
Pairing: Captain!Rosé x Fem!Captain!Reader
Word Count: ~ 7,375
Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Injury (Inflicted On Reader), Dangerous Situations, Fluff
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: Anon, thank you for this one! I've never seen the movie you mentioned in your request, but you did well in explaining what you wanted to see here. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
PS ~ Captain Rosé could step on me and I'd say thank you
♡ Happy Reading ♡
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Death isn't a new thing to you. It isn't some far-off, enigmatic fear capable of tearing down your psyche anytime the topic is brought up. In fact, you're faced with the harsh realities of it almost everyday, given your ranking. Even still, when you woke up this morning, you hadn't expected for the day to consist of you meeting your end. 
Your hands remain clasped together tightly, bound to the rickety wooden chair you've been securely strapped into by layers of rope and chains. Your wrists burn as the rough material pulls against your skin, surely leaving dark marks by now, but that's the least of your worries as you eye the bandits standing before you. Their faces hold smug grins, cheeks pulling back in eerie smiles to reveal crooked teeth. "I won't give you the pleasure of seeing me beg for my life. I accept my fate." You say bravely, holding your head high. 
"How noble, Captain." They sneer, leaning far too close for comfort. You fight the gag that works its way up your throat at the smell of them, the wicked stench burning your nostrils as it invades them. 
"Even if you escape now, the rest of my crew will come for you." Rosé finally speaks from behind you, sitting in the same state as you as she glares at the surrounding men. Her fingers futilely pull at your shared restraints for the millionth time, brushing along your wrist in the process. 
"It's cute that you think that matters. We'll be long gone by then."
Her head lightly pushes against yours as she leans back in her chair, seeking to evade the man when he enters her personal space. For some reason unbeknownst to you, your blood boils at his actions -- though Rosé is your enemy of sorts, seeing that she's a rival captain herself, you can't help but want to keep him away from her. 
The vile creature parts her legs with an evil smirk on his lips, his filthy hand groping her thigh as he runs his fingers along her beautiful skin. She whimpers in protest, growing afraid of what he'll do to her in her captive state. Had she been unrestricted right now, she would've most definitely cut his hand off, forever reminding the world of his misdeeds. 
"Just get it over with!" You shout angrily, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've done today. You've grown tired of the game they've been playing for over an hour, flipping between beating and ridiculing you relentlessly. 
"Alright, alright," their leader chuckles, putting his hands up as he approaches you. He instructs his men to be on standby, ready to gather around the two of you and hoist you into the air. They wait for the all-clear to throw you overboard and into the chilly sea below, full of creatures you've seen during your fateful adventures over the years. There are certainly worse ways to go, and you attempt to come to terms with what's about to happen. Perhaps this is a poetic end for you -- being laid to rest in the place that you've spent most of your life and made countless memories.
"Keep those eyes on me as you fall. I want to remember what it looked like to take down the infamous Y/N L/N." You narrow your eyes at their leader, grimacing as they scan over his greasy, jet black hair and tattered overcoat. Aren't the "bad guys" supposed to at least be stylish? He's a sorry excuse for one if so. 
"Kiss my ass." You utter, spitting at him. He lunges forward, just like you expected -- seriously, why are men so predictable? -- and takes the collar of your shirt between his fingers. He delivers a swift blow to your left cheek, only allowing you a second to recover before pulling your head back up to give the same treatment to the other side. 
You can feel Rosé tense behind you, doing all she can to reach for you and offer comfort. 
With a pained groan, you spit out a mouthful of fresh blood and raise your head to look at him again. "You know, you're not nearly as observant as you think you are." You smile, ignoring the pain that shoots through your busted lip. Before he has time to react, you raise your foot in one motion, swiftly connecting it with his crotch.  How could they neglect to tie your feet? That's practically Pirate 101.
He doubles over in an instant, lungs void of the air necessary to speak another insult in retaliation to your act and body incapable of any further movement. His men make the decision for him, taking this moment as a sign to follow through with their plan and throw you over. Shouts and cheers pierce through the air above you as you make your quick descent, not even having time to say a goodbye to Rosé or offer a final word to the universe. 
Cold water immediately rushes over your heated skin as you plunge into the waves below, its frigid temperature almost taking what little breath you managed to store away in your lungs. Aided by the water's altered state of gravity, you're able to work your hips past a few of the loosely tied ropes that rested against them. 
One thing you admire about Rosé is her quick thinking. She's smart -- while you distracted the leader, she took the opportunity to pry off some of the restraints that required more time and effort, just like you hoped she would. Her slender fingers inconspicuously wiggled their way out of the ropes before freeing you from them as well, and the bandits were none the wiser. Her previous actions make this part all the more easy, and after spending a while on the final ties, the two of you kick off of your chairs and head for the surface. It's a struggle, no doubt, with the way you have to fight to bring the chains up with you and keep them from pulling you further under. But eventually you reach the surface, once again filling your lungs with that miraculously fresh air that they so desperately craved. 
The saltwater stings as it flows over your face, getting in your eyes and rushing over all the wounds you've accumulated. Rosie sputters from beside you, struggling a bit to keep her head up, so you extend an arm for her to use to push herself up. You tell yourself you're only doing it -- that is, making sure she doesn't drown -- because she'll be useful in helping you survive. Deep down, though, your intentions extend further than that. 
Once you find a steady rhythm with the waves and the fear of drowning subsides for the time being, you scan the horizon line. "I see land -- over there." You say, using your head to point to what looks to be an island in the distance. "We'll swim when we have the energy and float when we need rest, okay?" She nods in response, and the two of you get set on your way. 
-----
Huffing from the pure exhaustion coursing through your bodies, you manage to drag yourselves onto shore before collapsing. The sand serves as a good place to lay, almost cradling you the longer you lay there. Tiny, rippling waves -- the aftershocks of much bigger ones -- lull into shore, fluttering past your ankles before being pulled back in by the tide. They lap against your skin, remedying your racing mind with their rhythm. Minutes pass in this cycle, setting you in a state of comfort before you remember everything you'll have to do before nightfall.
Once gaining enough strength, you raise your head and peek over at your rival.
She's sleeping. Of course. You can't blame her, but the sun -- once blazingly hot, perched high up in the sky -- is now setting, giving you a preview of the darkness that the night sky will hold. She turns, rolling her head towards you in her sleep, and you almost smile -- a light dusting of sand sticks to her puffed-out cheeks, and the bridge of her nose holds a small sunburn, making her look sunkissed and blushy. Y/N, stop that, you command yourself, shaking your head at your thoughts. She's your enemy, and she's the reason you're even in this mess in the first place. 
"Wake up," you nudge her, reverting back to your previously tense demeanor. The anger you possess for the situation you're in is returning en masse, wiping the pleasant thoughts of Rosé from your mind. 
She groans, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she attempts to ignore you. "Roseanne, we have to get up." Your voice is strong, commanding her just like your crew. Your crew, you think to yourself. Some of them were killed by the bandits while others were thrown into the prison chambers of your ship, left at the mercy of your enemies until they decide what they want to do with them. Your people are inventive and strong -- they'll likely find a way out of the sticky situation and reclaim victory. For now, though, you're left to worry about their fates as you attempt to survive on this island. If the elements and animals don't kill you first, the gorgeous woman beside you most definitely will. 
"I'm up!" She all but shouts, following another prodding from you. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively raises her hand to wipe her face -- you catch the chains before they can make contact and harm her, and she sends you an appreciative look. "Guess I forgot about these…" she shakes her arms, jiggling your restraints in the process, "Oopsie."
"Come on." You say, standing up and pulling her along with you. Her dilly dallying is making you impatient, and it only increases your levels of irritation. You don't have time to waste. 
"We have to break these," she states the obvious, searching the shore for a decently sized rock.
A sarcastic gasp slips past your lips as you look at her. "You don't say! I was thinking we'd just leave them on." She turns to glare at you, narrowing her eyes as she stops walking. Dear god, there's no time for this. With a mumbled "here we go", you allow her to continue. 
"You know, we wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you." 
"Me?!" You shout, completely taken aback. "Quite the contrary, Rosé. You're the one who led them to us!"
"If you would've accepted my offer, none of this would've happened. But you refuse to team up with anyone else. Look at where that got us now." She motions around herself to the island, expression settling back into an annoyed scowl as her eyes settle on you again. 
"It's not my fault that my crew is more trained than yours; I had no reason to merge our teams."
"An agreement would've solidified our strength!" She yells, stomping her foot into the sand. Her boots managed to survive the long trip here, but their material is completely soaked.
"I'm responsible for my crew, and my crew only. I had no decent reason to bring yours in with mine. It's just a liability and more mouths to feed." You say evenly, clenching and releasing your jaw a few times. 
She begins to fire off her rebuttal, but you tune her out for the most part and start walking further inland. She has no choice but to follow, and she does so while adamantly complaining. You throw occasional jabs to her arguments in order to keep her moving, and your plan works well. She's too busy bickering with you to notice that she's doing exactly what you want her to.
"...and you're so arrogant, Y/N! I mean, really. God, you're infuriating." 
"Are you done yet?" You ask, cocking your head to the side while you simply blink at her. She squints at you, about to give you another piece of her mind, but you glance down at the rock you led her to and she closes her mouth. 
"You can keep screaming at me or we can break these chains. Your choice." You shrug, pursing your lips. She cuts her eyes at you, but agrees with a huff, nonetheless. 
The two of you work together to find fittingly sized rocks, taking turns dropping them on your restraints and methodically working them against them. Eventually the chains give way, allowing your hands to wiggle out of their strict hold. You're the first to free yourself; once you're done, you find Rosé struggling in silence, refusing to ask for your help. 
"Here," you offer, extending a hand to her. Doing nice things for people without gaining something for yourself isn't something you do often -- you've been raised differently; grown more independent and self-serving after your time on the sea. 
"Oh, now you want to work together?" She quirks an eyebrow.
You put your hands up with an amused grin. "I don't have to help, feel free to do it alone." You stand, dusting the sand off of your clothes as you begin to walk away and investigate the island. She calls out behind you, annoyed shouts getting further and further away as you just smile and continue your journey. 
------
"Ah, glad you could join us again." You smirk, adding some kindling to the small fire you managed to set up during her time away. 
"Shut it," she bites back, glaring at you. 
"Tough crowd," you laugh, raising your eyebrows. For once, she doesn't say anything back. She busies herself with removing her shoes and socks, setting them next to the source of heat to dry before disappearing into the tree line. She returns a few minutes later, carrying with her a few different branches. Some of them are forked at the top, and she arranges them into a sturdy structure beside the fire as well. You try not to focus on how strong she looks as she does it, her muscles glistening in the fading evening light with a sheet of sweat.
To your surprise, she begins stripping. 
First her overcoat, which she drapes across the branch acting as a beam between the forked ones, and then her vest. She wrings them out individually, and you watch as the materials drip with what water hadn't already evaporated yet. The loose linen undershirt that she wears remains on, and you're thankful for that -- had she taken it off as well, you likely would've passed out. The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel her eyes on you, and you keep your gaze trained on the fire. 
"Well? Are you planning to stay in those clothes all night?" She asks, running a hand through her hair to fix it and get some of the sand out. 
"If I didn't know better I'd say you're trying to get me naked, Rosie." You play, smiling harder when you see her roll her eyes and look away. 
"You wish," she scoffs, though you can see her stealing glances at you as you remove your clothes. She admires the shadows that the fire casts over your body, the flames dancing as they offer their beautiful warmth. The two of you go way back, having grown up as frenemies due to your professions, but she's always had a soft spot for you. You piss her off to no end, and yet somehow she can think of plenty worse people to be stuck with.
After catching her staring, you decide to tease her. You flex your muscles, making sure to be extra and really make a show of it. She blushes, hiding behind her hands to escape the situation. 
"Awww, somebody's shy." You say, chuckling at her. 
"Am not," she protests, though her sheepish grin sells her out.
"Prove it," you challenge, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Teasing her is one of your favorite pastimes. 
Tired of the games, she gathers all of the courage she possesses and stands, slowly sauntering her way over to you. Your eyes take in the sight of her, and she smirks; she works hard to stay in shape, and she knows she looks good. Countless weeks spent at sea, working alongside her crew on long voyages has left her with artfully tanned skin and a physique to die for. You go to compliment her, but she stops you before you have the chance, pressing a finger to your pursed lips. She trails it lower, blazing a path across your jawline and chest, stopping at your ribs. Your breath hitches, and she definitely feels it. You curse yourself for being so easy, already knowing what's coming. 
"Who's shy now, sweetheart?" She purrs out, smiling victoriously. 
How she's capable of switching demeanors so easily baffles you, but it ensures that no interaction with her will be boring, if nothing else. 
"Yeah, yeah," you grumble, pushing her away to break the growing tension. She's looking at you with some glint in her eye that you can't quite place -- all you know is that if she keeps doing it, things might escalate to a place neither of you are prepared for.
You clear your throat and step around her to adjust your clothes on the drying rack. "You can go ahead and sleep. I'll stay awake and keep the fire going."
She nods with a slight frown on her lips, though you don't see it. "Alright. But wake me up when you get too tired, okay?" You assure her you will, though truthfully your body is aching for sleep right now. The beating you took earlier did its worst on you, leaving your skin bruised and muscles knotted. She deserves to rest, though, and you're okay with giving her the first shift of it. Besides, your mind would surely keep you awake for the better part of an hour -- at least it'll be used to its fullest with her. 
What you don't realize, however, is that when she lays down beside you, cuddling into the sorry attempt for a bedroll that you threw together, she merely pretends to fall asleep. Likewise, when she settles her head in your lap, searching for a more comfortable place to lay it, she's fully conscious. She lazily smiles when you run your hands through her hair, wrapping the locks around your fingers in mindless patterns before releasing them and starting over. It's soothing, and soon enough she calms her eager heart enough to slip away to dreamland. 
--- A Few Days Later --- 
"Wakey wakey…" Rosé sing-songs, hovering over you. The two of you have settled into this familiar rhythm over the past few days, spending the daytime searching for food and supplies and taking shifts to sleep through the night. You've almost always ended up taking the latter opportunity, though sometimes Rosé would force you to rest first if you needed it badly enough. 
"Mmm," you groan in disapproval, rolling over. The sun is far too bright, and your upgraded bed situation is much too comfortable to offer any valid reason for you to leave it. Rosé knows how difficult it is to get you up, but she's learned some very useful tactics. 
"Y/N…" she drawls, voice like honey as it releases your name with care. Her lips are next to your ear, teasing you as her warm breath fans across your neck. You audibly swallow, not prepared for that in the slightest, and slowly peek your eyes open. She raises a hand to shield your face from the unforgiving sun, and you smile at the domesticity of the act. She looks like a dream -- her hair is fanned out, swaying peacefully in the calm breeze that rolls in from the sea, and she's grinning that killer smile down at you. Her previous sunburn has turned into a tan now, making her look even more irresistible somehow. 
"What do you want to do today?" You ask, lacing your fingers together as you put them behind your head. They work as a cradle, cushioning your head from the sand.
"I saw some berry bushes on the north side of the island. They didn't look like any poisonous kind I've studied about, so maybe we could check them out?" She suggests, sitting back on her knees with a quirked brow. 
"Sounds like a plan." You smile lazily, gazing up at her. A light pattern of freckles paints her cheeks, and you can't help but grin at how adorable she is. 
"What is it?" She asks skeptically, squinting at you. 
"You're just too cute for your own good, is all." You sigh, content as you stand up and tug a blushing Rosé behind you. She closes the "door" behind herself, sealing off the entryway to your humble abode. It's a panel of leaves and sticks, built to be sturdy yet lightweight and easy to move. She built it herself, and a sweet smile works its way onto her lips as she remembers the praise you sent her way after she presented it to you. 
--------
"If you don't slow down then I'm gonna slap you," she says, peering up at the trees that loom high overhead. In her distracted state, she neglects to look where she's going.
Her rambling is cut short by your hand darting out in front of her, effectively stilling her movements and words. You glance at the ground, prompting her eyes to follow the path they made and widen upon realizing what you just saved her from. An animal -- some wretched cross between a scorpion and pincher beetle -- continues its trip across the downed log that lays in front of you, menacing in its appearance. 
"Thank you," she breathes out, leaning into your side as you hold her and direct her away from danger. 
"Do me a favor and don't die, okay?" You quirk, scrunching your face up at her humorously. She shoves you, holding up her middle finger as she walks ahead and blazes a path for the two of you. You chuckle, grinning stupidly as you follow after her. 
--- 3 Hours Later --- 
"Take cover," you shout to an imaginary army, seeking refuge behind the base of a large tree. Rosé chuckles maniacally from behind one of the berry bushes, her fingers lightly stained from the juices that are running down her palm. 
"Nice try, Y/N. But you can't escape… CAPTAIN ROSÉ!" She shouts, surprising you as she charges in your direction, pelting you with berry after berry. You squeal, evading as many of the makeshift missiles as you can by darting behind different greenery. She eventually catches up, snaking her arms around your waist and preventing you from getting away again.
"NO!" You exclaim, slumping further into her arms in defeat after your attempts to escape prove futile. She spins you around to face her, pressing your back up against the nearest tree as the two of you practically double over with laughter. She looks ethereal, with how she shines in the sunlight that sneaks its way through the canopy of tree tops above you. Her eyes are almost closed from how hard she's smiling at you. 
A sharp growl breaks the happy moment, perking your ears up and causing your heart to race for a different reason entirely. You glance around the tree, protectively stepping in front of Rosé to shield her from any new threat. An animal -- something you've never seen before -- bares its teeth, snarling aggressively as it sets its sights on you. Your blood runs cold in your veins, stopping your heart momentarily as your brain attempts to formulate a plan on the fly. With only a few precious moments left before it attacks, you glance around for anything to double as a weapon without making any sudden movements. 
Rosé is clutched onto you from behind, and you can feel her heart beating wildly. You have to protect her, no matter what. 
"On my count, I want you to climb into this tree. I'm going to try and defend us." From what little knowledge you've inferred in the past couple minutes, you doubt the animal is capable of climbing well; it doesn't have the body or feet for it. You fear it is capable of running quickly, though, so the tree is likely your best bet. 
"What? No, I'm going to--"
"Roseanne, please, for once, just do as I ask. Trust me." You plead over your shoulder, noting the slight tremble that runs through her as another roar echoes out. Your eyes remain trained on it, never backing down for a second. 
One steadying breath later, you shout, "Now!" and swoop down to pick up what helpful materials you can. You charge at the animal, taking the offensive in order to keep as much distance possible between it and Rosé. You successfully jab the sharpened stick into its side, causing it to wail in pain. In an instant it grabs your arm, wrapping it's paws around you as it lunges forwards and tumbles to the ground on top of you. A scream leaves your lips as you watch its teeth dig further into your flesh, garnering deep crimson blood to spill from your developing wounds. You protect your neck with your other arm, only breaking this rule to reach to your side and retrieve the heavy rock you brought along as well. It connects with the side of the animal's head, only making it whimper before loosening its grip the slightest bit. You weren't prepared for it to be such a tough enemy. You use your strength to roll it over and sit on top of it, keeping your arm in its grip to ensure that it stays occupied. Your fingers dig into every sensitive part of its body you can reach, performing the defense moves you've spent your life practicing to use. With a glance at Rosé, you find her safe in the tree, just like you wanted. 
"Run!" You shout, willing to keep the creature distracted in order to give her time to escape. Before you can see if she listens to you, it's nails claw into your abdomen, scratching painful designs into the previously smooth skin. It performs another death roll, and you barely have the strength to shank it in the side again. It howls, rearing back to go for your jugular before its movements are abruptly cut short. An unsettling crack rings out above you, and you open your eyes after not receiving the fatal blow you had been expecting. The animal scampers away from you, limping off further into the forest until it's out of sight. 
Rosé drops the large branch in her hand, the end of it lightly stained with blood. "Go..." you weakly mumble, eyes beginning to flutter closed as you notice how much blood you've already lost. You feel cold, and you have to fight the shiver that runs through you.
"I've got you, Y/N." She whispers, cradling your fragile frame in her arms as she picks you up and begins the journey back to camp. "You did good." She reassures, having no idea how much you needed to hear that before falling unconscious. 
---------
After gathering the medicinal plants and resources that the two of you have accumulated so far, she returns to the fireside, settling down beside you. She raises your shirt enough to have access to your wounds, but not far enough to expose you. Temperate water meets your bloodied and broken skin, rushing over the sensitive areas as she gently cleans them. Once dry, she mixes the materials into a sort of salve to rub on them before laying the plants on them in place of bandages. 
The crackling of the fire works with the crashing of distant waves to serve as background noise, making the night far more peaceful than the day had been. She allows you to continue resting, knowing you need all of it that you can get. 
About an hour or so later you wake with a start, hands reaching out as if you were right back in front of the animal. Your dreams were plagued with images of the nightmarish beast, and you're having trouble adjusting to the fact that they were all in your head. They felt so real. Rosé is by your side in an instant, brushing your hair out of your face with one hand while caressing your thigh with the other -- it's one of the only places that made it out of battle relatively unscathed. Your panicked eyes find hers, glazed over with tears as you pull her flush against your body, glad to know she's okay. Her warmth reminds you that she's here, that she's real, and that she's safe. 
Memories of your fight come flooding back, filling your mind with the terrifying things you witnessed and reigniting your fight or flight response. You remember that she didn't listen to you -- she put herself in harm's way instead of leaving you behind, like you asked -- and you grow angry. Muttered phrases of disapproval leave your lips as you push her away, stumbling slightly when you try to stand on your own. Although confused by your erratic behavior, she reaches out to assist you, only to be met with a harsh refusal from you. 
"Stop!" The word comes out as an angry shout -- louder than you originally intended -- but you can't find it in yourself to apologize right now. You find your footing after a moment, holding your side as you walk away from her. 
"What's your problem?" She shouts, marching after you. She refuses to let this go without a fight, seeing as how she has plenty more questions than answers now.
"You could've gotten hurt, Rosé, and I could've handled it on my own." You say over your shoulder, continuing on your journey away from camp. Her relentlessness is quickly getting on your nerves.
"Clearly you couldn't! You needed help; why are you denying that?" She stops now, crossing her arms angrily with her brows furrowed. The fact that you're still so set on clinging to your pride is pissing her off. 
"You should've left me there! I can't have you getting hurt because of me." You turn around now, setting your jaw. Is she really this blind? This has nothing to do with your pride. Her eyes meet yours, the pools overflowing with confusion as they scan over your face in search of clarification.
"I can handle something happening to me; I've made my peace with that. But if something ever happened to you because of my incompetence…" you shake your head at the mere thought of that, momentarily too overwhelmed to continue, "...I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I care about you, idiot." You add that last line before turning around, not bothering to wait on her reaction. Part of you is scared to, honestly, and the day has been far too eventful for you to handle a potential rejection on top of everything else. 
She says nothing, leaving the air around you void of her beautiful voice, and you don't know whether to be thankful or disheartened. 
You put more distance between the two of you, leaving a stunned Rosé in your wake as you find a place to sit along the shoreline. Your temper -- more precisely, the fear you hold that presents itself as anger -- reared its head tonight. You didn't mean to snap at her like that, but the possibility of her getting hurt because of you makes your blood boil. That would be unforgivable, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. You felt helpless earlier, quickly running out of the strength required to keep her safe.
Salty tears manage to break past your line of defenses, much like Rosé has managed to do with your heart. She's torn down every wall you've ever put up to protect yourself, and now that she's there you don't know how to cope. You've had people you considered close before, but none of them have mattered like she does. You've never been so afraid of losing someone. 
A soft hand on your shoulder makes you jump slightly, pulling you from your thoughts. Speak of the devil.
"Hey." She says simply, sitting down beside you. You turn your face away, not wanting to let her see you cry. "I'm sorry for fighting, okay? But I'm not sorry for helping you. I care about you, too, and I'll be damned to just leave you like that." She doesn't say anything else, doesn't try to make you look at her -- she just sits there, waiting for you to be ready to do so on your own. 
She's waited on you since you were teenagers, so she figures she's capable of waiting a bit longer now. Both of you are aware of the love you hold for one another; this is just the hardest part -- finally admitting it. 
"I can't lose you," you whisper, eyes full of tears that occasionally roll down your cheeks once gravity finds its footing. You turn to the front, still too emotional to look into her eyes. 
"Ditto. That's why I did what I did." 
Your knees are raised and pulled in close to your body for security, your arms wrapped around them to keep them in place. She reaches over to rest her hand on yours, wordlessly coaxing you into looking at her. 
"I…" You pause, voice breaking with the emotions you're still reeling from. 
"I know." She says, resting her forehead against yours. 
"I love you, too." 
She pulls you in, making sure to be gentle and not injure you any further. She raises your head to press her lips against yours, tasting the faint hint of wildberry that still rests on them from earlier. It's slow and new, giving you a break from the intensity you've been dealing with the past few days. You tilt your head to the right, letting out a whimper as her fingers graze a bruised spot on your ribs. She gives you another peck before pulling away, determined to stop herself while she still can. You're addicting, and she already can't get enough of you. 
A beat passes between you, giving you time to sort the thoughts rushing around your mind. "I've always loved you." You admit, pulling back to look at her. Tears well in her eyes, shining brightly in the brilliant moonlight as they threaten to fall. 
"Ever since we commanded our own boats for the first time. Mine was better, of course," she laughs at that, smiling despite herself, "...but I knew you were different then. I've spent all these years being too stubborn to let myself have you." 
She takes your words in, her heart pounding victoriously in her chest at your confession. "I knew when we were still training together. You always made things better for me then; I was so thankful to know you. Even if we teased the hell out of each other." 
You grin at the countless memories that come to mind. "Do you remember that night at the docks, after we graduated from our classes?" She looks up, searching her memory vault. "When you kissed me?" She asks. You nod, looking down with a bashful smile. 
"I knew we wouldn't see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it count."
"You made it really hard to say goodbye, you know?" She says, her eyes softening as she looks at you. 
"I know. But you get half of the blame." 
She tuts at you, nudging you playfully. You hiss in pain, causing her to bring a hand up to cover her growing smile. "Oops. Sorry, not sorry." 
"If I wasn't hurting so bad I'd tackle you right now." 
"Oh, I'm so scared." She laughs, mocking you. 
"That's it," you declare, ignoring the pain that shoots through your body with all the moving you're doing. Her laugh practically heals you anyway, so it's not hard to push it from your mind. You press her into the sand, rolling over to straddle her hips and pin her hands above her head. 
"Woah, tiger. Don't hurt yourself." She raises her head as much as her restrained state will allow, coming dangerously close to your face. 
"You're such a dork." You tut, leaning in to capture her lips once more. She mumbles out a, "you love it, though" against you, and your heart can't help but soar. 
- A Few Weeks Later -
A soft melody rides along the airwaves towards your ears, persuading you to wake up from your cozy slumber. You cuddle further into Rosie's tempting embrace, smiling at the way she pulls you impossibly closer. Her throat wiggles as she hums out a familiar tune from your childhood -- one of the songs you used to dance together to. 
"You big softie." You coo, resting your chin on her chest to look into her eyes with a smile. She grins, finally peeking at you through her lashes. 
"Good morning, beautiful." She says, her accent coming through adorably. She pulls you up to her lips for a kiss before rolling you onto your back. 
You sigh as she leaves open mouth kisses to your neck, dragging her lips over the skin there lazily. She takes her time, leaving marks here and there to show the world who you belong to. Her hands skim over the warm skin of your abdomen, finally free of the intense wounds you've been recovering from. Only small scars are left now, serving as a testament to what you endured.
"Mmm, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." She chuckles at that, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder as her body shakes with laughter. 
"You're thinking about food while I'm kissing you?" She grins, propping herself up on her arm to look down at you lovingly. 
"What can I say? I'm a hungry girl." You kiss her cheeks, ghosting your lips over hers. "Although," you tease the corner of her mouth, "...you're looking pretty tasty right about now. I might just eat you instead." 
She squeals as you crawl on top of her, pretending to bite her skin as you tickle her sides. 
"I surrender!" She shouts, finally giving into you. You kiss her one last time before pulling away and practically dragging her out of the structure. 
"I'll get started on cooking the fish if you grab some water." You offer, rustling through your handmade crate for the skewers you use to prepare food. 
"Alright," she nods, kissing you on the cheek before grabbing your canteens and setting off towards the freshwater spring not far from camp. 
"Be careful!" You call out after her, smiling when she turns around to face you with her hands in the form of a heart. 
---------
"Good job baby. That was delicious." She compliments, leaning back against the log you use as seating beside the fire. She almost always opts to sit in the sand and rest against it for some reason, but you're long past questioning her at this point. Rosie's… unique. 
"They don't call me Chef Y/N for nothing." You quip, holding your head higher with a sense of self-importance. 
"They don't call you that anyway." 
"Hey," you pout, slapping the back of her head with no real force. "Let a girl pretend, would you?"
"Fine, my apologies." She smiles again, and you can't help but do the same. You've lost count of how many times she's made you laugh over these past few weeks, and although you hope to be rescued sooner rather than later, the thought of being stuck here with her for a while longer doesn't seem all that bad. 
"You're doing it again," she trails off, wiggling her voice up and down to tease you. 
"What?" 
"Looking at me like a lovesick puppy." Her eyes shine in the warm, tropical sunlight, pools of rich amber that you wouldn't mind getting lost in. They match the color of whiskey almost perfectly.
"Not my fault. Have you seen yourself?." She scoffs, but blushes nonetheless. You lean over to press a kiss to the top of her head affectionately. 
Your attention is stolen away all at once as you hear the words you've been imagining ever since you arrived on the island. "Land, ho!" Multiple voices bellow out in the distance, prompting you to search for their source. Collective cheering can be heard, and you swiftly stand -- as if that simple act will miraculously enable you to see better. 
"We're coming, Captain!" Jisoo, your second in command shouts, seemingly hanging off the bow of the ship -- your ship. A squad of others follows behind, maintaining a tight formation as they make their way to shore. 
"Us too, Captain!" Someone calls from one of the neighboring boats, apparently one of Rosé's crewmembers. She waves back excitedly, and you bite back the smile that tugs at your cheeks. 
Eventually they reach land.
"Y/N!" Your scout, Lisa, shrieks like a schoolgirl, running into your arms eagerly. She was the first friend you ever made during your training years, long before you met Rosé, and you were truly worried for her.
"Ah, Lisa. Jisoo." You look between the two of them proudly, glad to see them alive and well. "What happened?" 
"We managed to defeat Captain Crusty's men--" she stops to explain when she notices your brows furrowed in amused confusion, "--that's the nickname we gave the bandit leader. Anyway, we defeated them and repaired the ship enough to make it back to shore. They did some major damage, though." 
You nod, satisfied with their story, until you remember that they didn't come alone. You subtly motion your head to the other crew, and Jisoo gets the memo. "We found the rest of these pea-brains back at the docks and they insisted on coming along."
"Hey, it's not like we wanted to be stuck with you either!" Jennie, Rosé's second, hits back, defending herself and the rest of her crew. "If your moron captain would've listened to Rosé we wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't have lost anyone in the process." 
"Quiet," Rosé warns, stepping in front of her to block the two sides from each other.
Despite knowing it isn't technically your fault, Jennie's words do hold some truth. You feel guilty for all the senseless violence you could've potentially spared your people from enduring, and the what-ifs weigh heavily on your mind and heart. 
"So long as I'm still in charge, no one will disrespect Y/N or her crew. Are we clear? I won't take kindly to any of you going against me." It's a heavy warning, and her tone makes it clear that she'll be true to her word. They know better than to test her. Her eyes scan the group of misfits, all looking bewildered by her sudden change of heart. It must be a bit jarring for them, after being such bitter enemies with the others for so long. Regardless, scattered nods and grumbles of acceptance leave them before they all scurry away to get started on their tasks, looking like scolded children. 
You send Lisa and Jisoo along with the rest of your crew to go ahead and board again, seeing that you have no real equipment to pack up this time. It feels wrong to leave the island  -- the place that brought you back to Rosie and allowed you to open your heart to her -- without something to remember it by. So, with a whispered, "Wait here," you run back to camp to snatch something. 
You return soon after, a huge smile plastered on your face. "You're bringing our door?" She laughs, tilting her head at your strange choice. 
"Duh. Good to know your eyes still work, I was getting worried." You tease, giggling as she pinches you. 
"Come on baby; let's go. Last one there has to clean the poop deck." 
"Get back here!" She yells, chasing you into the chilly water with a smile. Whether she loses or not doesn't matter much to her -- she finally has you after all these years, and she can't wait to see where the future will take the two of you. 
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apocalypseornaw · 3 years
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Keep Me From You
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For the square "Temporary amnesia" on @girl-next-door-writes make me feel bingo
Warnings: mention of injury,cursing
Word Count: 10,201
Smidge of angst but lots of fluff
“Dean I’m fine. A few scratches but I’ll be home soon and you’re more than welcome to play nurse” You’d left a few days before to help Claire out on a hunt and had called him to say you were only about an hour out from Lebanon. “So you want me to wear the uniform and all?” he teased and heard you laugh. That was a sound that he’d always loved. “Of course I want the uniform, why would you even ask?” A smile slipped onto his face as hearing just how truly happy you sounded to be coming home to him. He’d never imagined getting this. Someone who really did love him and not only understood the life but lived it as well. “I’ll see you soon sweetheart” “Better be waiting for me at the door….” Your sentence was cut short by the sound of tires squealing then a hard hit. 
Dean knew a wreck when he heard one and his heart fell to his feet “Y/N!” when you didn’t reply he screamed your name again which brought Sam running into the room. “What’s wrong?” Dean was already on his feet grabbing the keys to the impala “Y/N’s been in a wreck. We gotta get to her”
By the time Dean and Sam rolled on scene a passerby had called 911. Multiple cop cars, a couple ambulances and even a fire truck had the night lit brightly. Dean barely stopped the car from rolling before he was jumping out. Your car was on it’s side, the driver door crumpled in. “Y/N!” before he could get close Sam grabbed him along with three of the firemen on scene “Sir! We already got her out! She’s in the ambulance!”
Dean looked to see the ambulance in question pulling away “Is she alive?” The firemen nodded solemnly “She’s in critical condition but she’s alive”  Sam pulled him back towards the impala “C’mon we’ll beat them to the hospital. We know her Dean she’s strong” Sam nodded to the firemen that he had Dean so they headed to finish cleaning up the scene. Dean looked at your car once more before following Sam “If the other driver isn’t in bad shape..I’ll kill em”
------
Sam took the lead to speak with the doctors because by the time they got to the hospital he didn’t really trust Dean to not throw a punch. “Mr Evanson..your sister in law is in critical condition as you were told at the scene. She was hit by a drunk driver that ran a red light. She’s got multiple contusions, a fractured skull and a dislocated shoulder” the fake names had you as Dean’s wife should something like this happen and Eileen as Sam’s. Helped to have insurance and provided a cover story so all of you could get updates on each other should injuries ever occur severe enough to warrant a hospital trip.
Before Sam could open his mouth to ask any questions further about your condition Dean spoke up “Let me guess the bastard that hit her is just fine right?” Sam couldn’t really blame Dean. You were one of his best friends and knowing you made it out of a hunt just fine to turn around and get hurt this severely by an idiot who drank too much and chose to get behind the wheel was more than upsetting. “Mr Evanson I know you’re upset but I assure you we’re doing everything for your wife we can” Sam could tell Dean was doing what he did best which was to lean into anger more than any other emotion so before he could fire off threats to a doctor or worse Sam grabbed his arm then looked back at the doctor “When can we see her?” “As soon as she’s settled into the room I’ll send a nurse out to get both of you”
The moment the doctor stepped away Dean spun around and hit the wall hard enough his fist left a hole in the plaster. “She was talking to me Sam. What if I distracted her? What if she would’ve seen him sooner if she hadn’t been on the phone?” “Dean, don't do that to yourself. This isn’t your fault” It shocked Sam more than anything to see Dean wasn’t trying to hide the tears in his eyes when he faced him “I can’t lose her Sammy” “You won’t. I’m gonna call Eileen and Jody to let them know. She’ll be ok. Let the doctors do what they can then if need be we’ll find other means to help her. She’s strong, she’s a fighter and honestly I think it would take a lot more than a wreck to keep her from your side” “Let’s hope you’re right”
------
A little over an hour passed with Sam and Dean pacing across the waiting room. The other inhabitants of it and staff alike were giving both men a wide berth, Dean even moreso. The air around him was thick with the mixture of anger at you being in this shape and fear at the possibility of losing you.
When a nurse finally walked in and asked “Mr Evanson and brother?” Dean snatched his head up “Over here” she smiled warmly at him “Your wife is out of surgery and stable. Would you and your brother like to see her?” “Please” Dean managed trying to remember it wasn’t this woman’s fault you were hurt.
------
The walk to your room felt longer than anything Dean had even endured. When he walked in to see your still form he could feel his hands ball into fists. You were the single most important person on the face of the earth to him besides Sam. Your head was bandaged, your left shoulder was in a sling and both arms had gauze nearly covering every surface. “When’s she gonna wake up?” Sam asked knowing Dean needed an answer but also knowing his brother wouldn’t be very good at communicating at the moment. 
“That’s a tricky question. It’s really up to her. She’s in stable condition, there’s no bleeding on her brain. Now it’s just up to her body” “Thank you. Can we stay with her a while?” “You both can stay an hour but only one can stay overnight” “Thank you” the nurse walked away and Sam turned back to see Dean was motionless at the foot of your bed.
“Dean?” Sam called jarring him out of his thoughts. “She’s a hunter. I’ve seen her hurt and I’ve known that there was always a possibility of something happening to one of us but she was fine, she was headed home and laughing” Dean had walked up next to your bed and left his fingers barely brush against the leather bracelet tied around your wrist. It was a gris-gris gifted to you by a witch in New Orleans three years before, just a couple months before you and Dean had gotten together actually. 
You’d helped her out and it was supposed to protect you from evil. You hadn’t taken it off since citing that it was a lucky charm too considering you hadn’t gotten seriously injured on a hunt in quite a while. Turned out it only worked on supernatural beings not human actions.  “She’s gonna be ok Dean” Sam repeated as Dean gently took your hand in both of his and sat down in the chair next to the bed before looking up at his little brother “How can you be so sure?” “I’ve seen her fight and I’ve seen how much she loves you. She’s not leaving us like this”
------
The two of them stayed like that for the next hour barely talking, simply watching you breathe. When the hour passed Sam headed back to the bunker while Dean stayed rooted in the chair holding your hand. “Remember when we first met? God I thought you hated me because of my dad..he had a habit of turning people into enemies. I’ve never seen Bobby laugh as hard as talking about the time you backed dad down on a hunt by calling him a washed out jarhead that didn’t know a vampire from a rugaru. Baby you’ve survived so much..you’re stronger than anyone I know” he didn’t even realize he was crying before the droplet hit your hand.
“Please come back to me. I don’t want to do this without you. I love you” he nearly whispered the last part willing you to hear him and open your eyes. 
------
For three days Dean sat at your side. Sam would bring food and clothes. Eileen had of course headed back to Lebanon when she heard what happened and Jody along with all the girls had been in near constant contact. You had so many people behind you but the horrifying reality was it didn’t matter how much backup you had this time. This fight was a solo one.
The nurses and doctors assured him that you were healing. Your body was simply mending itself and keeping you asleep to save energy to do so. He didn’t care about anything they said he needed you awake to see for himself that you were ok.
It was during visitor hours so Eileen was sitting across the room flipping through a magazine while Sam had gone after coffee. The hardest thing for any of them was simply being forced to sit around and wait to see if you’d wake up on your own. Of course Rowena was digging around to see about some spells to help speed up healing but those were a bit fragile and out of her usual wheelhouse which was to cause damage to someone instead of healing them.
“Dean they were out of sugar so I had to put artificial sweetener in yours” Sam spoke from the doorway as he walked into the room. Dean shrugged “I don’t care” Sam shared a look with Eileen when he handed her coffee over. She signed “I’m worried about him” so Sam nodded and mouthed “Me too” before walking over to hold Dean’s coffee out to him. 
Dean took it then looked back at the bed “Why isn’t she awake yet Sammy?” “Head injuries take a little more to heal Dean” Sam offered but knew it was of little solace. All of them wanted nothing more than for you to wake up. Sam walked back over to stand next to Eileen but a movement of your hand had all of them on their feet and next to the bed “Y/N?” Dean spoke first and when you opened your eyes they all shared a sigh of relief “Thank god baby” Dean breathed moving to press a kiss to your lips but you snatched your head away “Dean, what the hell?” 
------
Your head felt like it’d been run over by a truck. You felt like you were drunk and there wasn’t a body part that didn’t hurt.  When you finally forced your eyes open you realized you were in a hospital room. Sam, Dean and Eileen was next to your bed meaning you must have gotten hurt on a hunt but you couldn’t remember how.
“Thank god baby” baby? Did Dean just call you baby? Before you could ask he leaned forward as if to kiss you so you snatched your head away not missing the look on his face as you said “Dean, what the hell?” 
“Y/N? What's the last thing you remember?” Eileen asked stepping closer to the bed while Dean backed away obviously hurt but you weren’t sure why he’d called you baby or tried to kiss you. You were friends yeah but he’d never acted like he had those feelings for you. You realized your head hurt even worse when you tried to think of why he would be hurt but a memory finally came to you of you and Eileen working a shifter case in Austin. “The shifter?” you asked hesitantly and saw her eyes widened.
“Eileen? What’s wrong?” you asked grimacing when you tried to sit up further only to realize your left arm was in a sling. Sam moved to help you and you noticed Dean looking rather lost standing off to the side of the room. She looked over at him sympathetically before finally saying “Y/N that case was over three years ago”
------
 Three years? You’d lost three years worth of memories. Dean had slipped out the room after alerting the Doctor Rhodes you were awake and once Eileen assured Sam she’d stay at your side he went after his brother. You were only half listening to the doctors as they gave a run down of the wreck you’d been in and the injuries you’d received. “Well if you’re saying my brain is fine why the hell do I have a three year gap in my memory?” you knew you were being a bit blunt but given the circumstances you felt it was warranted.
“Mrs Evanson this is common in an injury like yours” the nurse nearest you spoke so you cut your eyes at Eileen silently questioning the name they’d called you. She smiled and touched Doctor Rhodes on the shoulder. When he turned to look at her she motioned to you “Can I have a few moments alone with her before you take her for tests?” he looked back at you then nodded. After he and the nurses finally exited your room giving a warning that transport would be there in twenty to take you down for a cat scan Eileen came over and sat gently on the side of your bed facing you “Ask” You looked around the room eyes settling on Dean’s jacket that he’d left draped over the back of one of the chairs “What have I missed?” she followed your line of sight over her shoulder then smiled sadly before looking back at you “The shifter case was only a month before you and Dean got together” “We’ve been together three years?” you asked making sure you were facing her fully as you spoke. “Yeah. For the insurance he’s listed as your husband and Sam’s listed as mine since me and him have been together two and a half years” 
You felt tears sting your eyes as the realization of why Dean had looked so hurt when you pulled away from him hit you at once “Why don’t I remember? God he must hate me” She covered your right hand with hers lacing your fingers together and the familiarity of that small action bought a smile to your face as she leaned down to look you in the eye before saying “Believe me when I say there is nothing on earth you could do to make that man hate you sweetie. Now I’ll be here when they get you back from the tests but I’m gonna go find him and Sam in the meantime ok?” you nodded not trusting your voice at the moment so she kissed your forehead then nodded to the nurse that had just just stepped into the door before walking out.
------
Eileen found Sam and Dean outside in the parking lot. They were leaned against the side of the impala staring at the entrance of the hospital. When they saw her they both pushed off the car Sam getting to her side first while Dean was a little slower to approach “How is she?” Sam asked and Eileen shrugged “She found out she’s missing three years. How would you be?” Then her eyes drifted over to Dean “She’s afraid you’re gonna hate her because she doesn’t remember being with you” “I could never hate her especially for something that’s not her fault” he quickly replied and she nodded “That’s what I told her but I think you need to be in the room too when she gets back from having her scans done” 
------
You were in short terrified. The scans showed that your skull was healing quite well actually and as far as structural wise your brain was in good shape and according to Doctor Rhodes your memory loss was more than likely temporary. The bad news? In cases like yours those memories could return in a matter of weeks or a matter of years. There was no way to estimate the amount of time it would take from one person to the next.
“When can I go home?” you asked adding in your head the fact that you weren’t exactly sure where home was these days. “In a couple days at this rate and I’d say within two to four weeks you can return to normal life” There was a knock on the door and one of the nurses peeked her head in “Her husband, brother in law and sister in law want to come in” Doctor Rhodes looked back at you so you nodded with a small smile “Do you remind going back over what you’ve told me?”
“Of course” he nodded to the nurse so she stepped back out and a moment later Eileen walked in trailed by Sam then finally Dean “Mr Evanson your wife asked me to go over the findings from her test with the three of you” you barely met Dean’s eyes while he listened to Doctor Rhodes despite the fact that his gaze never left your face. When the doctor mentioned you’d be going home in a couple days if you stayed healing at this rate Dean shared a look with Eileen that you didn’t miss before the three of them thanked the doctor then he excused himself.
“So turns out I was right Dean, you do have the harder head” you tried to tease but heard your voice fall flat at the end. You wanted nothing more to remember the last three years of your life. The three people standing in front of you meant the most to you yet you could only remember so much and apparently now shared your life with one of them but couldn’t so much as remember ever sharing a kiss with him. 
“Y/N..Eileen told me what you said” Dean spoke, stepping closer to the bed. He tapped the bed close to your leg but didn’t touch you “Sweetheart there’s nothing that could make me hate you. I was on the phone with you when the wreck happened. I’ve never been more afraid in my life and just seeing you awake? That’s a win for me” “I want to remember if that helps any Dean.I wish I did because it seems we’re happy” “I’d like to think we are” he replied with a small smile. You moved your leg closer to his hand so he took the hint to gently touch you near your ankle.
“While we’re all here talking..can someone tell me where is home for me?” you asked embarrassed over not being able to remember such a small detail “Um you live at the bunker” Sam answered cutting his eyes at Dean who nodded “You’ve been living there for about two years full time” “Oh then I guess we’re really serious then huh?” your voice was low enough you weren’t exactly sure Dean had heard you until he said “Yeah” meeting your eyes for a second before clearing his throat “Um visitation is over in an hour. I was gonna stay but if that’s weird for you I’m sure Eileen or Sam would” 
“Of course” they both spoke over each other then shared a small smile. Your heart ached seeing the look on Dean’s face at the two of them so in sync while you didn’t remember him. “Maybe Eileen could stay? She can help fill in some blanks since I remember hunting with her last?” you offered and Dean nodded “Of course sweet..Y/N” you noticed how he stopped himself from calling you sweetheart. Christ you’d been friends with Dean for so long. He was the best man you’d ever known but you also knew he had the self worth of a grape and you could only imagine what this was doing to him. “Thank you Dean” you whispered and he smiled slightly “Of course”
------
Dean didn’t really talk much before him and Sam left for the night but he did ask if you wanted him to bring you a change of clothes since the nurse said you could shower with assistance the next morning. “Please” you told him and with a sharp nod he was out of the room. Sam left a quick kiss on Eileen’s lips then one on your forehead before quickly following after him.
You watched the door where they’d disappeared for several seconds before Eileen touched your arm gently and you jumped which pulled a small smile to her face “Are you ok?” she asked so you nodded then turned your head to look at her fully “I was in love with him wasn’t I?” she slowly nodded. You let out a breath then leaned your head back against the pillows before asking “How did that shifter case turn out anyways?” she laughed then went into the story talking and signing what had happened trying to catch you up to speed without overwhelming you.
------
Sam found Dean sitting in the library at one of the long tables around three in the morning. There was a bottle of bourbon in front of him and a glass with a piece of ice watering down what of the brown liquid was in it. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, pulling the chair out across from Dean after grabbing himself a glass. Dean cut his eyes up at him “Would you be able to if it was Eileen?” “No” Sam wasn’t even going to attempt to lie, Dean knew him too well. “I don’t want to put any stress on her because she doesn’t remember” 
“You’re not. She knows now that you’re not mad that she doesn’t remember. Give Eileen a little time to ease her into the last few years besides Doctor Rhodes said her memory could be fully back within a couple weeks” “Or a couple years” Dean interrupted which earned him a glare from Sam “If you’ve ever had faith in anything..have faith in Y/N” “What if this is nature’s way of a course correction? She deserves better than me and maybe this is the universe trying to say that” 
Sam reached over and pulled the glass out of Dean’s grip then moved the bottle for good measure before saying “The only thing this says is that assholes shouldn’t drink and drive. She’s coming home in a couple days Dean and the familiar setting may help her memory..Rowena is getting there with the spells especially now that she knows to tweak it to memory wise. We’re gonna get her memory back Dean..we will”  “I hope you’re right Sam, I really do”
------
Today was a big step in the right direction. You were finally checking out the hospital to head home. Eileen had mentioned Cas would be at the bunker when you got there so that meant at least for your physical wounds you could get healed, who knows maybe angel mojo would effect your memory as well? Not likely but it didn’t hurt to hope did it?
When the nurse knocked on the door she smiled to see you were tying your sneakers onto your feet. Eileen had stayed in the room with you while Dean went to pull the impala around to the exit you’d be coming out of. “Must I ride in the wheelchair? I mean I think I’m capable of walking” you asked and she grimaced “Sorry Mrs Evanson it’s hospital policy” Eileen winked at you then teased “Besides you get to ride in style out” riding in style was the collection of get well soon items that had found their way to your room from your friends. The one you liked the best was the little stuffed wolves that Garth and Bess had sent by Donna. The nurses didn’t quite understand the significance of them but you’d seen even a small smile work it’s way onto Dean’s face. Over the next few days though it was only supposed to be the four of you at the bunker well plus Cas. You weren’t being anti-social but you could also only bare so much guilt at a time from not remembering certain things.
Eileen bumped your arm and when you glanced her way she signed “Stop it” “You don’t read minds” you replied and she winked “No but you I can read” you sighed and climbed into the wheelchair while Eileen grabbed the bag carrying your presents. Sam was back at the bunker apparently switching your belongings to a different room. Eileen had let it slip that he offered to do it so Dean wouldn’t have to.
“Take me away” you told the nurse who smiled “I can say you have remained in good spirits the entire time you’ve been here and that bodes quite well for your recovery” you shrugged your good shoulder as she pushed you out the door “I can wallow or deal. I always work better by gritting my teeth and doing what I gotta do regardless”
------
The sun was bright in the sky when you finally were wheeled out of the exit. When Dean saw the three of you he quickly came around to open the passenger door and moved to help you but stopped just sigh of touching you then looked at your face for the ok. When you reached for his hand his whole body seemed to relax slightly “Mrs Evanson you have a follow up for a scan in three weeks but if any new symptoms occur such as headaches, blurry vision, dizziness feel free to come in before and if any pain outside the expected occurs feel free to come back in” 
“She will” Dean and Eileen answered in unison so you shot the nurse a smile “I have a lot of people looking after me. I’ll be fine”
After you were in the passenger seat the nurse waved then headed back inside. Eileen climbed in the backseat behind you and reached up to pat your shoulder reassuringly while Dean walked around to climb in the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?” he asked and you nodded “Let’s get home”
------
You vaguely remembered the internal set up of the bunker. You’d been there a time or two and even stayed the night once but as far as knowing it as well as you should considering how long you’d apparently been calling the bat cave home? You were far from it.
Eileen headed down the stairs first followed by Dean then you walking slowly down. Everything in the map room was pretty much how you remembered it including the angel sitting at the table talking to Sam who smiled when he saw the three of you “Y/N” you pulled him into a hug as best as you could “You’re a sight for sore eyes there Cas” he ducked his head and started to explain “I couldn’t exactly come to the hospital to heal you” “I understand Cas. Just saying it’s good to see you” he nodded then looked to your left arm “Can I?” “Please” you replied with an excited smile.
Cas had healed you before but it was always a bit surreal. He laid his hand palm down on your forehead and you felt the warmth spread throughout your body. You closed your eyes and felt your shoulder stitch itself back and the tender spot in your head from the fractured skull fade to a dull ache then disappeared all together.
When you opened your eyes everyone in the room was staring at you expectantly. You tried to force memories of being with Dean into your mind but they refused to come. You shook your head sadly “Healed me physically” “I’m sorry Y/N. Memory is something different than physical injuries” Cas apologized but you shook your head “No Cas. Thank you. Since the physical part is no longer an issue I can start trying to concentrate on my memory”
You didn’t miss the disappointed look in Dean’s eyes and apparently neither did Eileen because she touched your arm “Y/N why don’t I show you your room?” you smiled appreciatively at her “Sounds good. Cas are you staying?” he shook his head “No I’ve got to get back” you hugged him again “In that case be careful out there and thank you again” 
------
You heard the three guys talking while you let Eileen direct you down the hall and tried to block it out. One worry at a time. She pointed to one door “That’s mine and Sam’s room” then pointed to the next door “This one is empty” the door a little further down the hall she pointed to “Um this is Dean’s room” you swallowed hard at the unadded words which were “Until a few days ago this was your room as well” and followed her down to the room right to Dean’s “This one is yours”
You walked in behind her and looked around the room. You recognized the weapons laid about as your own. That was definitely your jacket tossed across the chair in the corner. A black blanket with red swirls was folded on the foot of the bed. When you touched it she smiled “That’s your blanket you usually want. Dean’s been using it but he got me to wash it and fold it for you” you nodded feeling very much overwhelmed “Um Eileen is it ok if I say I want to be alone?” she nodded “Of course. I’ll be in the library with the boys, your phone is on the charger so if you need me cause you know hollering for me won’t work” you managed a small laugh at that and signed “Thank you” since you know had use of both hands again.
She walked out and shut the door gently behind her. You sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. There was a since of familiarity tugging at you being in the bunker but you weren’t sure if it was true or just the fact of your own desire to remember. After a while you started feeling tired so you laid down across the bed pulling your blanket over you. A small nap wouldn’t hurt then maybe you could wander around a bit after everyone else went to bed.
------
You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when you heard a small knock at your door. You sat up smoothing a hand over your head “Yeah?” then kicked yourself when you realized it could be Eileen but the door opened before you could cross over to it and it was Sam standing in your doorway instead “Dean and Eileen ran into town to grab some food and a few other things we needed. I had to convince them both I would check on you” you smiled at that then stepped back so he could come into the room.
He sat down on the chair that your jacket was draped across so you sat down on the foot of the bed right across from him “How is he?” you asked and Sam raised an eyebrow “How are you?”
You sighed “Apparently I am in a stable relationship and can’t remember past being friends. At least Cas could get the wounds on the outside healed?” he nodded then glanced around before rubbing at the back of his neck “He’s ok” “Sam” you warned so he half smiled “He’s blaming himself of course. You were on the phone with him when the wreck happened” “Christ could it get any worse?” you groaned and Sam leaned up to gently touch your leg “Yeah. You could’ve died. We can deal with this. I know we can” you nodded and laid your hand on top of his “Thanks Sam” he smiled “So do you want to check out the rest of the bunker while it’s just the two of us or go back to sleep?”
“Can I sneek a peek in Dean’s room?” he shrugged “Hell why not?” You followed him out into the hall and stopped him right as he put his hand on the door leading into Dean’s room “Are you sure I should?” He nodded “Yeah. It may help” you took a breath and followed him in. The room didn’t look that much different then the one they had moved your things into at first then on second glance the differences popped out to you.
There was your shotgun on the wall underneath Dean’s. A photo of you, him, Eileen and Sam was on the nightstand. A few albums that were clearly your taste in music was next to his radio and there were two sets of headphones instead of one. You walked over slowly and picked up the photo. The boys were sitting on Jody’s couch and from the looks of it had pulled you and Eileen down into their lap probably seconds before the photo was snapped considering you and her were both laughing. “It was the day Alex got into nursing school” Sam explained coming to stand next to you looking over your shoulder at the photo. 
“We all look so happy” you whispered running your fingertips across Dean’s face. “You’ll get your memory back just give it time” he replied and you sighed then sat the photo down “I know. Let’s check out the rest of the bunker so maybe I can have my nerve enough to face Dean by the time they get back”
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You had made your way into the library by the time Dean and Eileen came back from town. The few times you could remember coming here you’d been impressed by the extensive collection of lore this place held. You trailed your fingers along the spines of the books reading different titles. “I think you’ve read most of the books in here at least once” you heard from behind you and turned to see Dean leaned against the doorway watching you with a small smile on his face.
You sighed and said “Hopefully I’ll actually remember reading them sooner rather than later...well and other things too” the last part you added in a whisper but you saw the way his expression changed “Y/N I don’t care how long it takes I’m not going anywhere. You may not remember the last few years right now but I do, I know this is worth fighting for” “So you don’t blame yourself then?” you asked crossing your arms over your chest and saw the barest hint of a grin pulling at his lips again “Ok that look is too familiar and I’m guessing by you asking me that you’ve talked to Sam while we were gone?”
You nodded “Dean they said a drunk driver hit me. It wasn’t your fault hell if I hadn’t been on the phone with you it could've been a lot before all of you knew what had happened to me.” He nodded slowly “Not like you have always had a habit of kicking my ass if I’m too hard on myself” that made you laugh lightly “Ok that I do remember and yes someone needs to!” 
He nodded back towards the kitchen “We got some food. Eileen tried to remember what your favorite was but couldn’t quite remember so we got a few different things” You smiled “I’m sure I’ll like whatever I’ve never really been picky” the two of you stood there after that staring at each other for a few heartbeats before you heard Sam call yours and Dean’s names “Guessing that’s our cue to come eat?” “Guessing so” 
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You sat next to Eileen at the table turned halfway towards her so if you said anything she wouldn’t have to turn to read your lips. Sam was sitting across from her and Dean was across from you. You always loved california rolls but now you were simply pushing them around in the little tray. “Not hungry?” Sam asked motioning to your plate. You shrugged “Guess not. Want them?” Eileen reached over before Sam could move “I’ll take them” you laughed at the look on Sam’s face “Snooze ya lose Winchester”
You glanced over at Dean’s plate to see the burger in front of him was barely touched as well “Dean you’re not gonna eat?” he shrugged “Not that hungry” you sighed and drank the last little bit of your lemonade then stood up “I think I’m gonna grab a shower and call it an early night” “If you need anything” Eileen started and you nodded then signed “I know”  Dean glanced up so you smiled “Night Dean” “Night Y/N” “Night Sam” you called over your shoulder before you walked out the kitchen and heard him say “Night” as you stepped into the hall.
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Everything felt wrong. The bed felt wrong, your clothes felt wrong. There was a gaping hole craving the memories of the last three years and there was nothing you could do. You tossed and turned most of the night until finally calling it.
You dug around and found a thicker pair of socks so you pulled them onto your feet then grabbed the black and red blanket to wrap around your shoulders before stepping out into the hallway. You weren’t sure what part of the bunker you were headed to but you hoped maybe to clear the confusion in your head. The library called to you so you let your feet carry you in that direction.
You walked aimlessly around the rows of books letting your fingers graze some of them. God there was everything from classic literature that book collectors around the world would sell their souls for all the way to books describing just how bad of an idea that would be and why. You ended up not picking a book and instead just pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down.
You smiled when you saw Sam and Dean’s initials carved into the tabletop. It matched where they’d carved their names in the impala back when they were kids. You traced Dean’s initials and seriously considered waking him up to talk but decided against it. Just like you needed time to adjust you were quite certain he needed some time too. One moment he’d been with a woman for three years the next that woman didn’t even have a memory of a shared kiss.
You sighed and pushed away from the table. You had seen a laptop in your room hopefully it wasn’t password protected,maybe you could watch a movie or something.
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Within a week and a half of being released from the hospital you were going absolutely stir crazy and what was even worse you knew everyone was sitting out of cases to be there with you.
You walked out of your room after grabbing a shower and headed towards the kitchen. Sam and Eileen were normally up before Dean you’d learned so you were hoping it was just the two of them again. When you walked around the corner you nearly froze in your tracks to see Dean pouring a cup of coffee. He cut his eyes up and almost smiled when he saw you then motioned with the coffee in his hand “Want a cup?” You mentally kicked yourself as a reminder to speak and forced a small smile onto your face “Please” 
He nodded and turned to grab another cup. You stood there not missing the looks Sam and Eileen were sharing while Dean poured the coffee and held the cup out to you. You took it from him letting your fingers barely touch his hand “Thanks Dean” “Sugar’s on the counter and creamer’s in the fridge” he replied with a tight smile then walked over to sit next to Sam.
You couldn’t help but over the conversation between the three of them which consisted of the fact that Donna apparently needed help and that Garth had asked Sam if him and Dean could check in on some strange occurrences. “Why don’t you all go?” you asked turning to face the three of them and repeating yourself in asl for Eileen. “We don’t want to leave you alone” you nodded slowly then said “I have a cell phone. Sam just gave me a new one all set up yesterday. Not to mention I’m in literally one of the safest places on earth. I think I can manage for a day or two. Seriously I feel horrible that I’m keeping all three of you cooped up, go I’ll be fine”
The three of them knew you well enough to know that if you had your mind set on something you were far too stubborn to let it go that easily. Sam and Eileen shared a few hushed words followed by Sam and Dean having a whispering match before Dean finally sighed loudly “Fine! I’ll meet you outside in twenty”
You watched him walk out then glanced at Sam questioningly “What was that about?” “He still doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you but he agreed to go check out Garth’s lead” Eileen looked up from her phone with a grin “I texted Donna that I’ll come help her and she said to tell you and I quote can’t wait till Y/N is back in action. I miss her face” you laughed lightly and said “Well be careful and tell Donna I miss her face too”
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Sam and Eileen left to go grab what they needed so you wandered back towards your room but stopped when you saw Dean’s bedroom door was open. You knocked lightly on it and half a second later he stepped around it and stopped in his tracks when he realized it was in fact you and not Sam or Eileen. “Y/N..something wrong?” you shook your head “No I was just wondering if maybe I could talk to you just for a second?” 
He stepped to the side and waved a hand into the room “Of course” you walked in and sat in one of the chairs at the small table in his room so he sat across from you. You took a deep breath before saying “Dean..if my memory doesn’t come back” “It will” he cut you off and you couldn’t help but smile at just how certain he sounded “Please let me talk” “Sorry go ahead”
You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He stared down at your intertwined fingers as you started to speak again “If my memory doesn’t come back and you want to move on there’s no hard feelings” his eyes flew up to yours “Sweetheart I knew you’d hit your head hard but damn I didn’t realize it’d done you that bad” “What?” you asked with a shocked laugh. 
He slowly raised your joined hands up to his mouth before just barely letting his lips brush across your knuckles “Y/N listen to me good here darling....I love you more than I ever dreamt possible. A future for me? Naw I never really thought about it before you but since the moment you first told me you love me I feel like maybe one day I can actually be the man worthy of you. I’m never walking away from you. If it takes two months or twenty years, I’ll still be right here” you had tears in your eyes by the time he’d finished talking “Christ no wonder I’m in love with you. Who would’ve thought Dean Winchester is a romantic at heart” he chuckled before saying “Only for you sweetheart..only for you” 
You pulled your hand from his and saw his face fall slightly before you said “Come home in one piece?” “Nothing could keep me from you” he replied and you had a sense of almost dejavu as if that was something that was said a lot between the two of you but you didn’t want to ask and get his hopes up just for dejavu. 
“Dean..you ready to go?” Sam called from the hall but stopped when he saw the two of you sitting across from each other “Or we can wait. A few minutes wont hurt” you held Dean’s eyes as you said “No Sam, you two need to get going. I’m gonna go see Eileen off” you stood to walk out but stopped to pat Sam’s shoulder “I expect you both back here just the way you’re leaving”
“Bye Dean” “Bye Y/N” you smiled at Sam then headed to tell Eileen your usual parting and wish her a safe hunt.
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Everyone was due back to the bunker within a few hours so you were currently folding laundry in your room. Things were starting to hold a sense of familiarity to them but you weren’t certain if it was true or if you were simply wanting to remember so badly you were tricking your own brain into saying it remembered when it truly didn’t.
You’d started texting with Jody, Alex and Claire. You felt horrible that you didn’t remember Claire’s girlfriend Kaia or the newest addition to the wayward daughters as you called them Patience but the girls were more than understanding and were wading in little by little to catch you up on any and all memories involving them. 
Your phone chimed from where it sat next to the bed so you walked over to pick it up and saw a text from Sam which read “We’re two hours away and Eileen is an hour out” you smiled knowing everyone was safe and texted back “Make it back in one piece and then I’ll be happy” then sat the phone down and returned to putting your laundry away.
You pulled out one drawer and stopped. Your socks and undergarments were in it but you had a flash of t-shirts being in the top drawer. Must have simply been mistaken. You finished up then headed into the library where you’d been scrolling through news websites to catch up.
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You must have been invested in the article you were currently reading because when Eileen tapped on your shoulder you jumped. When you looked up she said “You’re a hunter and I scared you!” “You didn’t make any noise! Besides my guard is down in here” she shook her head but laughed “Nice to see you in a good mood” you motioned around “It’s starting to feel like a sense of being at home here” you knew you could confide in her without it reaching Dean and possibly getting his hopes up for nothing.
Her smile grew as she pulled out the chair next to you and sat down “That’s really good news” you and her sat there talking for the next while and were still talking when you heard the bunker door open so you signed “Our boys are home” she smiled and glanced over her shoulder about the time Sam and Dean walked down the stairs but both of your faces fell when you saw the cuts and scratches littering both of their faces.
She was on her feet to Sam’s side and without hesitation you were at Dean’s side before you could even think about it. “What the hell happened?” you asked gently touching the deepest cut that ran right across Dean’s left cheek “Couple witches hexed a couple vamps. Made them a little harder to kill. No big deal sweetheart” he replied flinching slightly as you turned his head to look at the different cuts and you shook your head then glanced at Eileen “You got your idiot cause I’m gonna go patch this one up and call Cas to see when he came come through the heal them” she nodded so you grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him behind you out of the library and down the hall to his bedroom.
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Dean sat on the side of his bed while you fussed over the cuts on his face and neck. “Did you kill the witches? Because if not I’m gonna find them and shove their damn broomsticks up their asses” you finished cleaning the cuts and stopped when you realized he was staring at you
“What?” he shook his head letting just the barest hint of a smile play on his lips “I love when you’re all fiery” when you dipped your head just enough that hair fell in front of your face he knew that was one of your tells that you’d gotten embarrassed so he reached up to push the hair back gently and felt his heart flip when you actually leaned into his touch “I love everything about you Y/N. I don’t mean to embarrass you or make you feel weird about it since you can’t remember but you patching me up and fussing about me being hurt? It feels normal or normal for us anyways” you covered his hand with your own and smiled “I want us back Dean”
“We’ll get there sweetheart. Rowena said a few more days and a few more continents she should have her hands on everything she needs” you nodded then pulled away from him slowly “I need to put this first aid kit up” he watched you move around and wanted to say something that would make you feel better but really didn’t have an idea as to what to say.
You stopped at the doorway and glanced back at him “Is it weird if I ask you to take me for a ride in the impala?” he shook his head “Not at all. When do you want to go?” your smile pulled one to his own face “Let me grab my jacket” you glanced at his dresser for a second then added “Are your t-shirts in the top drawer?” he looked between you and the dresser then nodded slowly “Yeah..why?” “No reason” you replied then went in search of your jacket and to return the first aid kit to the kitchen.
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You weren’t sure where Dean was headed but sitting next to him watching him drive felt so natural. You’d known him for years but it was like your heart was remembering even when your brain was refusing to. “Want to pull over or just keep driving? It’s a quarter moon but it’s pretty bright out if you want to park and talk?” he suggested and you nodded “Please”
You watched as he found a pull off and drove back to an open field. When he killed the engine he cut his eyes at you “You coming?” you smiled and climbed out behind him. He walked to the front of the car then sat on the hood leaned back against the windshield so you sat next to him making sure your boots were hanging off the side to not scratch the paint. Thousands of stars were dotted across the sky and although the moon was only a quarter it was bright. You could hear a few crickets far off and a slight breeze was in the air not enough to make it cold but enough to make your jacket comfortable.
You cut your eyes at him twice before he said “You can lean your head over on me Y/N. I won’t bite” “What if I asked you to?” you joked but had another sense of dejavu hit you. He pulled you over onto his chest leaning further back while you got comfortable “You know you said that to me the first night we slept together” he spoke after a moment.
It was the first time he’d actually talked about your relationship. You knew it was because he didn’t want to push your memory. You had your head laying against his chest and could hear his heart beating steadily under you. “Who kissed who first?” you asked and his answering laugh vibrated through your entire body “Believe it or not you kissed me first” you turned to look at him and he shrugged so you asked “Tell me?” 
He nodded and leaned his head back to stare at the night sky “We were fresh off a possession case. Me and Sam had been working it and you rolled through nearby. Eileen was with the twins working a case so you offered to help us. After it was all said and done Sam headed back to the hotel but me and you decided to grab a beer” you hadn’t realized just how much you were hanging onto his every word until he grinned “You’re staring there Y/N” “Oh hush. You’re telling me about our first kiss I get to stare” 
“Fair enough” he replied with a nod then continued “Anyways. We got to the bar, grabbed our drinks and then headed to a corner table. We were talking about the job, the life we live. You were the most beautiful woman in the place and you were sitting there in jeans and one of my flannels since your shirt had gotten torn during the fight and you had a scratch right across the top of your collarbone that flashed when you moved just the right way. I’d been trying to figure out a way to ask you if you’d ever consider being with another hunter for weeks by that point. You got up to grab us another round and I admit I watched your ass while you walked to the bar but you hadn’t even gotten the beer yet when some drunk asshole decided to grab your ass”
“How did that go over?” you asked pretty much already knowing the answer. Dean tilted his head with a hint of a smirk “I may have broken his jaw in a few different places. Luckily the bartender saw everything so she snuck us over the bar and out the back about the time the police were coming in the front. We hightailed it out of there and headed back to the hotel. I walked you to your door even though you were right next to us. You told me you could’ve handled it and at first I thought you were pissed at me for stepping in but then you added that you thought it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. You kissed me then asked if I wanted to grab coffee the next morning before we all headed our different directions”
The happiness in Dean’s eyes as he spoke about the two of you made your heart ache. You loved him, that much you were sure of even if you couldn’t remember the details as to why. “Was it just me for you from there on?” you asked and when he looked at you god your heart skipped more than a few beats at the emotion those green eyes held “No one else would’ve stood a chance” you leaned closer to him and just barely let your lips brush against his in a tentative kiss. When he didn’t push you away you deepened it moving closer to him. He groaned into the kiss when your hands slid across his chest coming up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
One of his hands came to grip your thigh closest to him and he gave it a tug pulling you on top of him never breaking the kiss. You straddled his waist breaking from his lips to kiss down his neck. The grip on your hips tightened when you kissed on top of his pulse point “Y/N...sweetheart..baby stop” you froze the moment he said stop and looked at him in confusion “What’s wrong?” he swallowed hard before saying “Don’t get me wrong because fuck I’ve missed kissing you but we can’t do this. Not until you get more of your memory back. The moment you do I promise to keep you in bed for days but for now we can’t”
You nodded and left another quick kiss on his lips before sliding off of him and the hood of the car. He stood up after you and wrapped both arms around you “I love you Y/N” you nodded leaning back against him “I know Dean” the two of you stood there in silence for the longest just enjoying being close to each other until you shivered. “Let’s get back” he said so you nodded with a sigh “Will you watch a movie or something with me when we get back?” he nodded and kissed your cheek “Of course”
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You paced across the floor glancing towards the table in the center of the room every now and then. The redhead working over the large silver bowl stopped in the middle of a movement “Y/N..dear I have grown quite fond of you actually but if you don’t stop that incessant pacing I will lock you out until I need you” 
You held your hands up defensively “Sorry Rowena. I guess I’m just nervous” “Understandably but just take a breath” you nodded and sat down at the table across the room. She smiled then went back to her work. You looked up when the door opened and gave a small smile to Eileen “The boys are on their way back” “It’ll be done before they get here” Rowena said not looking up so you repeated it to Eileen who questioned why your eyes got wider.
Eileen sat down next to you and drew you into a conversation about a few hunt years back and that managed to keep your attention until Rowena cleared her throat. The both of you looked up so she waved you over “It’s time” Eileen walked next to you so you gave her hand a small squeeze before stepping over to the table “Give me your hand” Rowena spoke so you held your hand out palm up. She picked up a silver dagger and slid it across your skin. You watched as your blood dripped onto the mixture in the bowl and it glowed a deep silver.
Rowena spoke the incantation of which you only caught half the words because while some was latin the rest was a language you didn’t recognize. After a moment the silver turned to a shimmering black. Rowena dipped a red wine glass into the bowl and held it out “Drink it all” you looked at the liquid and swallowed hard. You’d drank worse before. You looked at Eileen who nodded so you toasted her and Rowena “Here’s to our health ladies” then tipped the entire glass back in one go. “How do you feel?” Eileen asked and you started to say you felt fine then the world took on a fuzzy haze and you felt yourself falling right before your vision went black.
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“Y/N..wake up..sweetheart” you could hear Dean’s voice and forced your eyes open. “She’s awake” he breathed in relief. You were laying on a makeshift pallet in the armory. “Told you I know what I’m doing” Rowena chastised then crouched down into your view. “Y/N..how do you feel dear?” you looked at Dean before answering Rowena “I feel amazing. I remember everything” you could hear Eileen and Sam both thanking Rowena but your eyes were glued to Dean who whispered “I love you Y/N” you pulled him down into a kiss before whispering “I love you too Dean. Nothing could keep me from you either”
Tagging @girl-next-door-writes for the bingo challenge and @akshi8278 cause it's Dean
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grailfinders · 3 years
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Fate and Phantasms #200
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Wow, what a milestone, huh? It feels like only yesterday we were building Mash. Didn't even know you could grab multiple fighting styles back then. We were also one person back then. Things change. Things change even faster when you have magic eyes that let you bend anything you can see, so let's hurry up and build Asagami Fujino already. She is a Quandrix Sorcerer to tear apart anything she lays eyes on, as well as expand her field of vision beyond what her eyes can see. Dangerous combination, that.
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: In the dark of the night, evil will find you! (If Rasputin ever become a playable character I am really going to regret using that one here.)
Wait, what's that...
Race and Background
No surprises here, Fujino is a Variant Human, because normal humans can't tear people apart with their mind. That means she gets +1 Dexterity and Charisma, as well as proficiency with Perception (kind of her deal) and the Tough feat. HP isn't just how much body you have to get hurt, it's also how badly getting hurt affects you. Fujino's deadened sense of pain means she can take hits and keep going, purely due to the fact that she doesn't realize she should stop. That means you're getting an extra 2 HP each level.
Fujino is a schoolgirl, so the closest thing we have is the Cloistered Scholar background. That gives you History and Nature proficiency.
Ability Scores
Your highest score should be Charisma. Your magic eyes are an innate part of you, and it's really easy to be frightening when you can tear a bridge down around you. Second highest should be Constitution, for the reasons we outlined in your background feat. Your Dexterity should probably be pretty high, you fight in clothing, and you fought against Shiki for more than five seconds without dying. That's impressive. Your Intelligence isn't that bad, though you're still going through school. We aren't dumping Strength, it's alright, but we are dumping Wisdom. You have a hard time feeling yourself and feeling connected to other people.
Class Levels
You're a Sorcerer, giving you proficiency with Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as proficiency with the Intimidation and Arcana skills. You've got magic implanted in your face, and again, bridge. As a Sorcerer, you can cast spells using your Charisma. Blade Ward deadens your senses further, giving you resistance to physical damage types for a round. Mending lets you twist a small item back together, instead of tearing it apart. Sword Burst is a short range bending... sorta. Force damage is hard to quantify. But it's free, so that's nice. You can also Shape Water to bend liquids to your will. For first level spells, Mage Armor helps you not die, and Magic Missile lets you shoot little bursts of twistiness that'll never miss. You also join the school of Quandrix, which gives you the starting gift of the spells Guidance and Guiding Bolt. They aren't super in character, but they're free, so suck it up. More Importantly, you learn Functions of Probability, helping you bend luck in your favor. When you cast a leveled spell targeting a creature, you can add an effect to a nearby creature (yourself included). A Diminishing Function forces a wisdom save (DC 8 + Chr mod + proficiency), and if it fails it subtracts 1d6 from the next attack roll it makes this round. Turns out swordfighting is hard when your sword is a corkscrew. Alternatively, a Supplemental Function lets a creature add a d6 to an attack or save made in the next round. This part is less believable, but if you're creative I'm sure it'll look good.
Second level sorcerers are a Font of Magic, giving you sorcery points equal to your level per long rest. You can turn them into slots, or turn slots into points. Eventually you can do other things. Also, you can cast Thunderwave now. It destroys objects, you destroy objects, it's a match made in heaven.
Now that you're a third level sorcerer, you can make your spells truly your own thanks to Metamagic! If you cast a Heightened spell, one creature in its effect has disadvantage on their save against it. If you cast an Empowered spell, you can re-roll a couple damage dice. Tearing people in half is generally hard to avoid, and kind of damaging. You can also bend the air itself by casting Dust Devil, creating a Medium sized tornado, dealing damage to creatures nearby and pushing them around. It'll even pick up dust and make things hard to see, though that's kind of a drawback for you.
Use your very first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma. Kind of a spell-based build, to be honest. Speaking of, Mage Hand probably doesn't have much tearing force behind it, but it's free. You can also cast Shatter for more indiscriminate destruction.
Fifth level sorcerers gain third level spells like Clairvoyance! Now you can see a bird's eye view of the battlefield, tearing your way through it like, well, you.
At sixth level it's about time you started bending the earth to your will. You can Velocity Shift nearby creatures if they start their turn or move within 30' of you. If they fail a charisma save you can shove them to any other point within 30' of you. You can react this way 30' per long rest. Twist debris at people and watch them scatter, it's fun. To help with that, you can also cast Erupting Earth, bending the ground in a 20' cube. This forces dex saves on creatures in the cube, dealing damage and making the area difficult terrain until it's cleaned up.
Seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells like Stoneskin for even more deadened senses. Now you resist physical damage without having to waste your action every turn. It does use your concentration, but it lasts an hour.
Another ASI! Max out your Charisma for super special eyes. You can also Control Water to create truly damaging whirlpools. There's other options, but whirlpools! Who'd want anything else?
Oh hey, I found something you might want else. It's fifth level spell Bigby's Hand! You can grab people and play with them like a stress ball. Technically there isn't a twisting option, but a Grasping Hand is probably the best you'll do. It'll grapple a huge or smaller creature, and if it successfully does so you can Crush it as a bonus action for damage.
Another Metamagic option! Technically these spells are all just you looking at things, so grab Subtle Spell so you don't have to yell out all your attack names. You can also Mold Earth. It's not that powerful, but it's free twisting. You also get Telekinesis! Again, no "twisting" in the rules, but it's strong enough to lift an object of 1000 pounds, and fine enough to open a door. Their heads should be popping off here.
Sixth level spells! Here are the big boys of the spell world. If you twist anything enough, eventually it'll Disintegrate, dealing plenty of force damage and leaving behind a mess you can't even revive. A little too clean for Fujino, but it's destructive enough.
ASI time. Bump up Constitution for a thicker skin and more HP. HP changes retroactively, so you get an extra 12 HP here.
Did you know turning into rotini is painful? Your enemies certainly know that, thanks to Power Word Pain. If a charmable creature has 100 HP or less, their speed drops to 10', and it gets disadvantage on all attacks, checks, and saves, aside from constitution saves. If it tries to cast a spell, it'll be wasted if it can't pass a constitution save. The target stays in pain forever until it can pass a constitution save.
Cool, so fun thing about these Multi Class Subclasses! As long as you're the correct level, you can take any one feature they have each time you hit the appropriate level in your main class. Since the highest requirement is 14, we're taking Quantum Tunneling now, and we'll pop back to the other one later. Your senses permanently deaden, giving you complete resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage. You can also bend your way through any physical objects, as long as you're willing to deal with a halved movement speed and 1d10 damage each square you move. You also have to end your turn in an empty spot. Playing to character this should leave a huge hole behind you, but maybe you're conscientious? You weren't raised in a barn, after all.
Your eighth level spell is Earthquake. Now no structure in your view is safe from your destructive powers. Tear open the earth, shatter structures, and interrupt concentration, there's nothing you can't do!
Bump up your Dexterity this ASI. Not getting hit is still pretty useful, even if you can't feel it.
Remember when I said turning into rotini hurts? I was wrong. Actually, it kills you. Please grab Power Word Kill to reflect these changes. You have become death, destroyer of mages. You also learn how to cast Distant Spells, doubling your spell's range. Your range should be "anywhere in sight", so this is a step in the right direction.
Okay, I guess we'll grab Null Equation. Once per turn you can twist up a creature you damaged. If they fail a constitution save, they get disadvantage on strength and dexterity saves, and they only deal half damage with weapon attacks, all for a round. You can do this Proficiency times per long rest. Again, real hard to hit people when your femurs are spring shaped.
Use your last ASI for more Constitution for more HP and better concentration.
We've finally done it, we've made a pure sorcerer build! It's time to finally learn the dark secret of the Sorcerer capstone. What feature could be so powerful we've completely avoided it for 200 builds? It's Sorcerous Restoration. You get 4 sorcery points per short rest. It's not good. Sorry.
Pros and Cons
Pros:
You're good at dealing damage, and your most powerful spells deal Force damage, which almost nothing blocks against. That means you're consistent and deadly, a solid combination.
You're so good at damage that it isn't just limited to creatures. Use telekinesis, mold earth, and shatter to tear apart structures that are getting in your way. Walls? Torn down. Steel Beams? Melted. Bridges? Falling down.
Despite spending your entire time in a class with the worst hit dice imaginable, you're pretty tough to kill, with just over 200 HP, a decent AC for a spellcaster, and permanent resistance to physical damage types. To make things worse for fighters, it's also a pain to get near you, since you can tear up the area around you and shunt melee fighters away as a reaction.
Cons:
While you do have magic missile, a lot of your spells deal damage in wide areas, so your party might have words with you about using earthquake one too many times.
While you're good at tearing things up, that's just about all your magic can do. There's the occasional Clairvoyance and some defensive spells, but by and large you're either dealing damage or doing nothing.
Despite your great physical defense, you struggle a bit more against other damage types. If you end up fighting someone who can turn their knife into psychic damage, you might have a problem on your hands.
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vostara · 3 years
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I Am Lost - 01
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Volume One: A New Guardian Component 01
pairing: - cayde-6 x female guardian x uldren sov - the crow x female guardian (eventual)
blurb: “The woman’s gaze drifts down to look at her hands. She moves her fingertips, intrigued by this odd sensation of feeling, of movement.”
word count: 2.8k+
When Verna awoke as a guardian, she knew nothing about what life is meant to be like as a Lightbearer. And though she has been told that learning about her past is a forbidden endeavor, she can’t help but feel drawn towards discovering who she once was. But her pursuit of the quest is interrupted by the growing chaos, by the Darkness spreading.
Begins with the events of Destiny 1 and will continue up to the current timeline (but hey, it’ll take awhile to get there). Verna is a void-using Hunter.
*This work is cross-posted on Ao3.
01 | … series masterlist
Tag List (Open): @mangovalkyrie
We called it the Traveler, and its arrival changed us forever. Great cities were built on Mars and Venus. Mercury became a garden world. Human lifespan tripled. It was a time of miracles. We stared out at the galaxy and knew that it was our destiny to walk in the light of other stars—but the Traveler had an enemy. A Darkness, which had hunted it for eons across the black gulfs of space. Centuries after our Golden Age began, this Darkness found us and that was the end of everything. But it was also the beginning. — The Speaker
COSMODROME
Old Russia, Earth
A pale orange machine with golden engraving zooms around a wreckage of rusted, disintegrating vehicles. Searching amongst the ruins. He stops to scan a skeleton, slumped over in one of the cars. “Ouch,” he comments, blunt, before flying away. He pauses, looking off into the distance. And then, quick, he speeds off to investigate this new area of interest. Curiosity running strong within his circuits.
His scanner flicks on once again, scrutinizing the debris. “Is it possible?” For a moment, he feels an inkling of hope. His protective shell moves away from his main body—a metallic orb—pushed apart by a glowing sphere of blue light. “There you are!” He says, confirming his suspicions. Excited, the machine puts all of his energy into bringing the skeletal remains back to life.
In its place, a young woman appears. Tanned skin forms, surrounding the broken bones. Dark hair grows, cascading in loose waves down to her mid-back. And with her first inhale of breath, a blush of pink life spreads across her cheeks. Slowly, the woman opens her eyes, and winces at the invasion of light.
“Guardian,” the machine says. He moves closer to her, flying right up into her line of vision. “Guardian?” He repeats.
The woman blinks at him. She feels sluggish, confused. Her mind still busy trying to process the concept of life, existence.
“Eyes up, Guardian!” The strange object says, inching the slightest bit closer to her face.
She tilts her head in curiosity, finally noticing the talking robot.
“It worked… You’re alive!” He says. “You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you. I’m a Ghost. Actually, now I’m your Ghost. And you…”
The woman’s gaze drifts down to look at her hands. She moves her fingertips, intrigued by this odd sensation of feeling, of movement.
“Well, you’ve been dead a long time,” the robot continues. “So, you’re going to see a lot of things you won’t understand.”
Something yells in the distance, drawing his attention towards it.
“This is Fallen territory,” he says. His optic eye shifts rapidly to glance around the area. He’s nervous, concerned. “We aren’t safe here. I have to get you to the City.” Briefly, he flies away, before turning back to the Guardian. “Hold still,” he says, disappearing.
The woman opens her mouth to speak—tries to call out for the machine to return—but no sound escapes.
“Don’t worry,” his voice says. The sound vibrates inside of her head, and it feels ever-so-slightly unsettling. “I’m still with you. We need to move, fast.”
Almost hesitant, the woman pulls herself up onto her feet. She surveys the world in front of her, overwhelmed by the sight of sparse greenery and spreading decay.
“We won’t survive long out in the open like this,” the Ghost gives her a verbal nudge. “Let’s get inside the Wall.”
She looks beyond the clumps of rusted metal, focusing on a building that’s crumbling in the distance. With unsteady steps, she walks towards it. She stumbles in the dry dirt, gradually adapting to process that’s involved in forcing her legs into motion.
“I didn’t bring you back just for you to die again,” Ghost says. “We need to move.”
Sensing the urgency, she picks up her pace. The woman climbs through the wreckage and jogs the rest of the way to the Wall. She enters through a large hole that greets her with darkness. An automatic light resting on her left shoulder switches on, illuminating the space. She climbs the staircase to her left, ascending up a couple flights of stairs. The woman is cautious as she travels further inside, careful to avoid cutting herself with the jagged, sharp edges of broken metal. She considers grasping onto the safety railings for support, but changes her mind upon noticing that they look as if they could snap between her fingers.
A skittering noise echoes throughout the building, pulling the woman’s attention to the dark ceiling.
“Quiet,” the Ghost says, half a step below a whisper. “They’re right above us.”
Making a deliberate effort to keep her footsteps light, the woman traverses further into the building in search of a way through. Eventually, she opens a door and steps into an open space.
The Ghost rematerializes beside her, and immediately begins to scan the area. “Hang tight,” he says. “Fallen thrive in the dark. We don’t. We need more light. I’ll see what I can do.” He zips away, flying deep into the darkness. “Another one of these hardened military systems and a few centuries of entropy working against me.”
As she stares into the pitch black, a rock of discomfort settles inside the depths of her stomach. Goosebumps bloom down the woman’s arms. She feels something watching her, examining her every move. But she can’t see the source.
The lights flicker on.
And illuminate the swarm of creatures moving across the adjacent bridges and walls. The woman’s eyes widen at the sight, caught off-guard by their six slender limbs, claw-like hands, and glowing blue eyes. The creatures—the Fallen—are dressed in spiked gray and silver armor, with purple cloaks draped over their heads.
The woman emits an involuntary gasp, taking a step back towards the door that she had walked in from.
“They’re coming for us,” the Ghost yells as he speeds his way back towards the woman.
“Yeah,” she responds. And for a brief moment, she is startled by the sound of her own voice. It’s coarse, strained, yet soft, quiet.
“Oh,” the Ghost pauses, stopping abruptly to look at her. “So you can speak!”
“Yeah,” she confirms, though she sounds as if she doubts this herself. Hearing hurried footsteps, she turns her attention back to the creatures that are gaining on them.
The Ghost turns to look back at the Fallen, and then rushes back to the woman. He scans a gate beside her, hacking into the system to unlock it. As the gate rises, he flies through and points a light at an object leaning against a metal crate. “Here,” he says. “I found a rifle. Grab it!”
She runs after him, quick to pick up the offered weapon.
“I hope you know how to use that thing,” he says.
Walking at a brisk pace down the hall, she detaches the rifle’s magazine and checks the amount of ammo stored inside. “You and me both,” she mumbles, clicking everything back into place. A group of Fallen soldiers jump in front of them, and the woman reacts on instinct, lodging a couple of rounds into each of their heads. Another Fallen appears, ready to strike. And, pulling out a knife from her thigh holster, she jabs the blade into the creature’s neck.
“I think you’ll be okay,” the Ghost says, watching as the fresh corpse collapses onto the ground.
The woman looks over at the Ghost, before continuing forward. Rifle raised and ready to fire. After walking through a disorientating maze of hallways and fighting off two hoards of Fallen soldiers, she stumbles into an open space with high ceilings. On the other side, a giant fan is slowly rotating behind a metal grate.
“The Fallen have a tighter hold on this place than I thought,” the Ghost comments. He heads towards the fan and looks down a new hallway. “Just a little bit further. Let’s hope there’s something left out there.”
She follows after him. “You don’t sound entirely confident.”
“I was fortunate enough to finally find you,” he says. “I don’t know how much more luck I’ve got left today.”
As the woman enters the hallway, she pauses to look back at where they had come from, double checking that none of the Fallen were hot on their heels.
All clear.
The Ghost and the woman follow the path. It leads them outside, into another field of rust and ruin.
“This was an old Cosmodrome,” the Ghost explains. “There’s got to be something we can fly out of here.”
“Cosmodrome?” The woman whispers. She takes in the sight, trying to process and understand this ever-growing pile of information.
“Right,” the Ghost turns to look at her. “You don’t know—”
His words are interrupted by the loud sound of something being launched in the distance. The woman and the Ghost whip their eyes towards its direction, watching as a smoking orange light—a flare—flies high up in the air. Gradually, it changes direction, curving towards a nearby tower.
“Incoming!” The Ghost warns, pulling the woman’s attention away from the flare.
A large portal of blue and white light forms in the sky. And through it, a ship appears and starts to descend. With the sound of a faint explosion, another ship flies through another portal. It heads towards them, landing closer than the first.
“Fallen ships!” The Ghost says. “This close to the surface?”
The woman unclips her magazine from the rifle and replaces it with a fresh one. “We should go.”
“Move!” The Ghost agrees.
She sprints across the courtyard, approaching the ship. As she nears, several Fallen leap out of the vehicle. Aiming her rifle, she shoots several of them dead before their feet can touch the ground. Moving at a quick, but steady, pace, she heads closer and continues her task of killing the creatures. Fighting her way around the swarm, she treks through the open courtyard, before entering a new building on the other side.
“I’m picking up signs of an old jumpship,” the Ghost says. “Could be our ticket out of here.”
“Here’s to hoping,” the woman mumbles.
They follow the hallways inside, pausing to kill the Fallen before these enemies are able to spot them. Eventually, they turn a corner and enter a wide, open room with a broken glass ceiling. Across the way, an old ship sits abandoned, collecting dirt and grime. It’s suspended above them, held up by multiple thick cables.
“There’s a ship!” The Ghost says.
The woman steps closer, her eyes glued to it. “It looks relatively intact,” she notes. A cluster of running footsteps storm in through the entrance behind her, and she pivots to shoot the Fallen. Once all is calm, she turns her attention back to the ship.
The Ghost reappears beside her. “Alright, let me see if I can get us out of here,” he flies up to the ship and begins to scan it. “It’s been here awhile,” he comments. “Hasn’t made a jump in centuries. We’re lucky the Fallen haven’t completely picked it clean.”
“Will it fly?” The woman asks.
The Ghost pauses and turns to look at her. “I can make it work,” he says. He turns back towards the ship and disappears as he slips inside of it. After a few moments, the ship’s lights flip on and its engine begins to rumble. Another moment goes by, and then the ship breaks itself free of cables as it raises to hover in the air.
“Would you look at that,” the woman says.
“Okay, it’s not going to break orbit, but it might just get us to the City. Now—about that transmat...”
Through a hole in the wall, several Fallen scurry into the room. “Might wanna put a rush on that,” the woman yells. She swings up her weapon, finger ready to pull the trigger.
“Bringing you in!”
Before she can fire a shot, the woman disappears in a cluster of blue lights. She reemerges inside the ship, disorientated and confused. As she stares at the different levers and buttons inside, the Ghost steers the jumpship out of the building and away from the enemies that are shooting at them.
“Let’s get you home,” he says.
“Home?”
The Ghost turns to look at her, but says nothing in return.
And unbeknownst to the duo, a stranger watches them from a distance.
TOWER
The Last City, Earth
The trip “home” is shorter than the woman anticipates. Though, she was—admittedly—a bit distracted with her face pressed up against the windows of the ship. Eyes glued to the snow-capped mountains, vast forests, clear lakes, and crumbling cities that passed by beneath them. Breaking through the dark clouds of a thunderstorm, the ship is greeted with bright rays of warm sunshine. And, pressing her nose even further into the glass, the woman’s eyes widen at the sight of a giant orb floating in the distance. Below it, a towering grey building glimmers beneath the sun’s light.
When the ship approaches the location, the Ghost switches back on the transmat and teleports the woman down onto the courtyard below. Just as her feet touch the ground, the ship flies away and disappears behind the roof of the building.
“Welcome to the last safe City on Earth,” the Ghost says. “The only place the Traveler can still protect. It took centuries to build. Now, we’re counting every day it stands.”
The woman takes a step towards the balcony’s edge, wanting a better view of the City below.
“And this Tower is where the Guardians live,” the Ghost says, flying towards the main building.
She turns to follow him, but freezes in place. She’s stunned by the expansive entryways, tall pillars, glowing lights, and red flags billowing in the wind. Robots patrol the courtyard, sweeping the ground and collecting stray pieces of rogue trash. A group of children race across the steps, led by a young boy that’s clutching a large black ball between his small hands. As the laughing children sprint passed one of the cleaning robots, it cautions them to be careful and to slow down.
“You keep referring to Guardians,” the woman says. “Is that what I am?”
“Yes.”
“And what does that entail?”
The Ghost hovers just out of her reach, his outer protective shell whirling in circles as he goes through an internal debate. “It’s normal for you to be confused,” he says, looking at her. “I’m sure that all of this is… a lot to take in all at once.”
The woman sighs, “Maybe just a little bit.”
Their conversation comes to a halt.
“Follow me,” the Ghost says, ending the long stretch of silence. “I’ll take you to—”
“Wait,” she interrupts. “I want to… I want to know who I am. Why can’t I remember anything? What even is this place? This… Tower?”
He drifts closer to her, meeting her gaze. “The answer to that is a bit complicated,” he says. “But who you are now is a Guardian, a new Guardian.”
“So,” the woman blinks, “I was once somebody else?”
“Yes and no,” the Ghost responds. “Your body—your face—it once belonged to somebody else. Beyond that, you are completely different.”
“So, you’re saying that I’ve been reincarnated?” She asks, looking down at her hands. The woman examines the bare skin, noticing long scars etched along the outside of her right forearm.
“Don’t think about it,” the Ghost says, nudging her arm back down to her side. “Pursuing knowledge about your past life is ill-advised. Forbidden, actually.”
“Do you know who I was?”
“No.”
“Nothing at all?”
The Ghost stares at her.
But she continues to pry, “Not even a name?”
“Would you like a name?” He asks.
“‘Guardian’ feels a bit… impersonal,” she admits. “You probably have a name, don’t you?”
The top of the Ghost’s shell lowers, as if pulling itself down to represent a frown. “No,” he says. “I’ve only ever been ‘Ghost.’”
“Wouldn’t you like a name?”
“Oh!” The Ghost’s straightens out his shell. And his optic center appears to widen with brewing excitement. “You could gave me a name,” he suggests. “We could… do a trade. You name me and I’ll name you?”
For the first time, the woman feels amusement. “A fair proposal,” she smiles, “Tangerine?”
The Ghost flies around her head, contemplating the suggestion. “I like it,” he says, coming to a halt in front of her face. “My turn! What to name you,” his voice trails off, pondering his options. “Something strong? Pretty? Traditional? Unique? Do you have a preference, Guardian?”
“It’s up to you, Tangerine. That was the deal.”
Finally, he speaks, “What about Verna?”
She quirks an eyebrow, “Verna?”
“You don’t like it?” Tangerine’s shell spins rapidly, nervous. He starts to sink towards the ground, unsure and embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s the first thing that I thought of. I can come up with something else if—”
She giggles softly, lifting the Ghost back up high into the air. “I like it,” the woman—Verna—says.
A/N: Thank you for reading! While I plan on keeping this story relatively close to the game itself, it will prioritize accuracy for the in-game cutscenes and spoken dialogue, and not any other miscellaneous written lore. This is simply because Destiny has an absolutely massive library of lore and I am simply a graduate student with little free time who has to write a novel for her thesis project.
Also, we'll be seeing some of Cayde-6 in the next chapter. ^^ I was hoping to squeeze him in for this one, but I felt that ending with Verna's name was a natural stopping point.
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Let Me Do The Work [t.h.]
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6.2k idk how 
Posted: 11/19/2020
Warnings: Fluff, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral sex (f receiving), maybe too much plot? and definitely a whole lotta lazy sex sue me you’re welcome.
Summary: Tom thinks you deserve a reward after a hard few days at work.
A/N: uhhhh I mean I think I covered all the bases lol. I rly hope you guys like this I think I started it over a year ago and only recently had the motivation to finish and post it. This is basically my brain baby so please lmk how you guys liked it and if you would like to be added to my taglist there’s a google form linked in my bio. Enjoy horn dogs!!
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When Tom got home on Wednesday night the last thing he expected his girlfriend to say was “Wanna have sex?” He had asked a few times before if you could and your response was usually something to the effect of “Sorry babe, another time, I’m just exhausted.” He knew your job was taxing and took a lot out of you and, frankly, Tom could survive the work week without getting any. He also knew that once Friday night rolled around it was all systems go; the weekend was yours to fool around as much as you wanted. And he was willing to wait.
Asking never hurt, though. Tom wasn’t annoying about it, at least he hoped he wasn’t. And for all the times you’d asked to have sex after he had a particularly exhausting day on set and he agreed, he didn’t feel super guilty about asking now and then.
It was unusual that Tom would be so exhausted from working that he didn't have any energy left to have sex. There had been some rare days when Tom could barely keep his eyes open even though you were right there, naked and sweaty, and riding his cock right on the living room couch. Your hands would be resting on his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscles beneath his freckled skin as you bounced on his cock and his hands could barely stay put on your waist or hips to help you move. Sure, he liked watching you rise and fall on his lap and he liked seeing himself disappear inside of you and he liked the way your tits bounced with every movement and he liked watching your face. God, he loved your gorgeous face.
Your eyes would flutter open and closed the closer you got and you’d look at him with your big, beautiful eyes that were dark and lust blown and your jaw would go slack and you’d throw your head back in pleasure. Your movements would get sloppier as you’d start shaking and convulsing while you came. His arms would lazily wrap around your waist to pull you closer and you’d nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard against his skin as you came down from your high. But Tom couldn’t find it in himself to even worry about his own orgasm, he just wanted to sleep.
So when he came home to your shared flat around 7 pm from walking Tessa on a particularly boring Wednesday, now that he had a break, and saw you lying on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and your other arm thrown over your eyes, he figured it was pointless to ask. You had gotten home sometime while he was out, didn’t bother changing out of your blouse and jeans just yet, popped a bottle open, and poured yourself a glass.
Tom unclipped the leash from Tessa’s collar, allowing her to run free around the flat. Immediately, she trotted over to you, nuzzling your legs with her nose until you caved and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Tom slipped off his sneakers, padding over to you, causing Tessa to run off in search of her favorite toy. The couch sank under his weight as he sat down next to your head, your eyebrows raised at the shift.
“Hey, stranger,” you muttered, removing your arm from covering your half-lidded eyes. Your eyes sparkled in the dim living room lighting as you looked up at Tom. He couldn’t remember a single time they looked dull. Not during a fight, or when you were sad or tired or sick, never. They reminded him of stars. No matter what, they kept shining.
“Hi love,” Tom leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your wine-stained lips. The upside-down angle was slightly awkward, but you’d be lying if you said you two hadn’t done the Spider-Man Kiss before, per his request.
You smiled up at him as he pulled away and closed your eyes. Tom threaded his fingers through your messy locks and you relaxed, even more, leaning your head into his hand.
“Long day?” He asked, continuing to run his fingers through your hair.
“Don’t even get me started,” you huffed out, dramatically throwing your arm back over your eyes, which made Tom chuckle at your antics.
“Tell me what happened?” He asked lovingly, and as you lowered your arm you raised a single eyebrow at him.
“You sure?” You asked cautiously, “Because I wouldn’t wish the shit I dealt with today on my worst enemy.”
Tom scoffed, shrugging his shoulders, “Try me.”
You sighed before beginning your story. Today had been insufferable. From the minute you clocked in, to the minute you clocked out, it had been hell. One coworker in particular, with whom you were not super close or friends in any way, kept nagging you about your relationship like she did every single day.
The incessant questioning and probing was getting old and, quite frankly, rude. The questions started out harmless, like everyone else’s when they found out the Tom Holland was your boyfriend. Some asked for autographs or pictures and you declined, saying that if he ever came in Tom would be more than happy to do that. And Tom agreed; you playing messenger was weird and not the type of thing either of you wanted people to get accustomed to. And most people understood; except for one.
The more she asked the worse they got. Personal questions were the norm now. Questions about family members and life together and sex. God, the sex questions never ended. ‘Is it good?’ and ‘What are you guys into?’ were some of her favorites. Sometimes she’d get creative with them and switch them up. And every time, you refused to answer. And you relayed this information to Tom like you did most days, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance at her ignorance before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when he saw you were getting riled up.
You softened immediately and sighed. Tom had a calming effect on you. Just being around him was relaxing. After so long together he still could calm you down. And he was cheaper than your copay for therapy, so hey why not vent to him?
“Just forget about her for now, babe,” Tom sighed out, continuing to stroke your hair, “she’s not worth your energy.”
“You're right,” you exhaled, “I’m home, I got my wine, I got my boy, I can relax.”
“Exactly,” Tom said, laughing at your words. He didn’t feel the need to say anything else as you both relaxed, his fingers still threaded in your hair, until a few more minutes went by, your eyes opened, and you turned your head to make sure you were setting down your not yet empty glass on the coffee table.
A soft “hey” escaped Tom’s lips as he watched you use your arms to lean up and turn to face him. He would’ve spoken more but was cut off as your lips pressed to his, the kiss awkward since you had caught him as he was speaking. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like spearmint gum as you hovered over him and moved your lips against his.
Tom sighed into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. You clumsily clambered into Tom’s sweatpants clad lap to straddle him and his other hand sat high on your thigh. The kiss was slow and passionate, neither of you in a rush to go further just yet. You melted into the kiss as his tongue slid along your lower lip to ask for permission to enter. You parted your lips immediately, allowing Tom access. After a few moments of lazily making out like teenagers, you pulled away to catch your breath. You closed your eyes, leaning your forehead against Tom’s as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.
“Can we go to our room?” You mumbled, just loud enough for Tom to hear. Your voice was low, soft, and a little shaky from being so tired. His eyes opened at your words and his ears perked up. Tom pulled his head away from yours and your eyes returned to their half-open state.
“I thought you were tired?” He questioned teasingly, tucking some strands of hair behind both your ears and resting his hands on your cheeks. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around Tom’s wrists, smiling sweetly at him. He was sure his heart damn near melted in his chest at the sight of his sleepy girlfriend asking to have sex with him.
“I am,” you said softly, smirking as Tom ran his hands down your sides and settled over your hips, “why do you think I wanna go to our room?” You joked, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and ducking your head down to place soft kisses along the side of it. He sighed, tilting his head in the opposite direction to give you more room as your fingers carded through the short, soft curls at the back of his head.
“You sure?” Tom asked breathily, as you continued laying kisses across his jaw and below his ear, “Because I don’t want you to do it just because I want to-“
“Tom,” you huffed, pulling away from his neck, your hands migrating to rest on his shoulders. He straightened up and opened his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips disappeared from his neck. “I’m sure. Now shut up and take me to the bedroom.”
He smiled up at you as he snaked one of his large hands around your waist and the other under one of your legs before shakily standing up. You yelped at the jerky, clumsy action and wrapped your arms tighter around Tom’s neck and your legs around his waist. Tessa jumped up from her bed where she had been lying from the sudden movement as Tom carried you down the hall to where your bedroom was, the door ajar. You giggled as he almost smacked both of you into the door frame and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. Tom kicked the door gently to push it open before entering the room, turning around, and kicking it closed again. Tessa scratched at the door for a few seconds before giving up and trotting off back to her bed.
The room was cool and dimly lit by two bedside lamps and the computer monitor on the desk, which had yet to go dark and was emitting a hazy, red-orange glow on everything in the room. The window was cracked open to allow some fresh air in and the sheer, white curtains fluttered every so often due to a random gust of wind.
The room still smelled like Tom though. Sure the scent of your lavender body wash and coconut and vanilla hair products and the eucalyptus candle you occasionally burned was lingering, but it was predominantly Tom scented. It was a clean and fresh smell, not shoe polish or sandalwood or, god forbid AXE. It was a perfect balance of pine and rain and laundry detergent. God, if you could bathe in Tom’s smell you would. It was intoxicating. And having the direct source of the smell pressed against you did little to quell the ache that had appeared between your thighs.
However, Tom never closed doors behind him. The door to the walk-in closet you and Tom shared was halfway open, as was the bathroom door. He always left them just open enough where he could get in and out without having to touch the door. You had no clue when the habit had started. It was only mildly annoying, one of those things you find out about a person only after you start living with them, and you always went and closed them after him. As much as you reminded him to close them, and as much as he promised he would, he never did. Tonight, however, was an exception. One, you were far too tired to do so, and two, there were far more pressing matters at hand than some open doors.
When Tom walked over to the bed until his knees hit the edge and he gently laid you down on top of the soft covers, all thoughts of open doors were immediately forgotten. You relaxed instantly into the comforter, one of your legs propped up and bent at the knee, your arms up by your sides, with one hand absentmindedly scratching at your shoulder. Tom settled his hands at your ankles, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin with his thumbs as his eyes raked over your body.
You took this time to admire Tom. There aren't enough words in the English language to describe how gorgeous Tom Holland is, even in sweats and an old t-shirt. Everything about him made you crave him more. His loose curls and warm brown eyes and soft smile and broad shoulders and, god, everything about this man drove you wild. You knew that what was hiding under his tight, white t-shirt and grey sweats was worth the many minutes — maybe hours — of sleep you’d lose tonight.
“God, I love you so much,” Tom broke the silence, as he crawled up your body to rest directly on top of you, between your parted legs. His hand trailed up your legs and sides before it settled on your waist and the other on your cheek. Your own hands snaked around his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss, both of you closing your eyes as your lips collided, melting into one another. Tom quickly picked up right where you left off on the couch, swiping his tongue against your lower lip. Just as quickly, you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped inside, running against your own. Tom wrapped one arm tightly around your waist and with his other arm, he picked you up and pulled both of you higher up on the bed, gently placing you back down amongst the soft pillows.
“Now,” Tom spoke into the kiss after a few moments, “let’s get you outta these jeans.”
“What?” You mumbled against his lips, feigning offense, as his nimble fingers popped open the button on your dark grey, straight leg jeans and pulled down the zipper, “You don’t like my jeans?”
“No, I love your jeans,” he responded, still kissing you, “but right now they’re in the way.”
At that, Tom stuck his fingers through the belt loops on either side of your hips and broke away from the kiss, sitting back on his legs and pulling the denim down your legs. Once you were free of your jeans, he repositioned himself above you and attached his lips to your neck, just as you had done to him earlier. His fingers reached for the buttons on your blouse and clumsily began to undo them. Your hands were in his hair as he left open mouth kisses along your neck and jaw, occasionally biting down a little before running his tongue over the spot to soothe the skin. You could already tell there’d be some dark marks on your neck Tomorrow, but at this point, you didn’t care. You’d just wear a turtleneck the next day.
Eventually, Tom was able to undo all the buttons on your blouse. He pushed the creamy white satin down your shoulders and arms, tossing it somewhere in the room, his lips never leaving your skin. You were now only in your underwear, the chill from the cool air seeping in from the window causing goosebumps to form across your body. Soft, quiet moans escaped from your lips as Tom continued his attack on your newly exposed collarbones and chest. One of his hands came up to massage your breast through the light blue, lace bra you were wearing as he left sloppy kisses over your chest, and you could tell that you were completely soaked watching him do this. He looked up at you from between your breasts, one hand still resting on top of your left one, a cheeky smirk gracing his thin lips at the noises you were emitting.
“I like this color,” Tom said, his voice low and husky but he was grinning. As he spoke, he snapped the band of the bra against your ribs, the sting causing you to flinch a little, “it suits you.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’m matching today,” you whispered, still heaving slightly. Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down and sure enough, you were wearing matching lace bottoms, not entirely unintentionally. Beaming up at you, Tom traveled down your body, his fingers grazing gently over your skin and his hot breath tickling you as his lips left soft kisses across your stomach, sparks dancing across your flesh in their wake. Slowly, he settled between your legs, your thighs thrown over his shoulders with your feet planted on the mattress on either side of his torso. His own hands were on your hips, holding you down against the bed. He pressed a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs as he began pulling the sides of your underwear down your hips.
Raising your butt off the mattress to help, Tom was able to carefully pull the delicate lace completely off your legs. There had been one prior occasion where he had tugged at your underwear just a little too hard and ripped the fragile material and you had not been too pleased with him after that. From then on, regardless of the nature of the activity, he was very careful in removing your underwear.
Once your underwear had been discarded, he resumed his place between your thighs, his hands finding yours and resting on your stomach just above your hips. Tom continued laying gentle kisses on your hips and inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed him most, each one followed by a soft exhale from you. After a few moments of teasing, he pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, before licking a long stripe up between your folds. Your breathing hitched as Tom started working on your clit, alternating between gently pulling and sucking at it and circling it with his tongue. It didn’t take long before your back was arching off the bed and your legs began squirming around his head, the familiar knot forming in your lower stomach. Soft pants fell from your lips as Tom pulled away for a second to breathe, eyes fanning over your body, before diving back in, your hands squeezing his own as he reconnected with your pussy. Soon after, your legs began to shake and you bucked your hips upwards, Tom following your movements. As he continued applying firm pressure to your clit, you felt the knot snap, your toes curling and your head falling back into the pillows as you came. White-hot pressure flowed through your body as you rode out your orgasm, a string of soft moans and curses filling the room.
Tom’s tongue rolled lazily around your clit as you exhaled heavily, your body jolting forward and  sharp gasp leaving your throat when he lightly pulled on it with his lips. You felt another shock roll through your body as he continued massaging your clit. He slipped his right hand out of your grip, the other laying flat against your lower abdomen, holding you down as you bucked your hips again. He lifted his head, making direct eye contact with you. His stunning brown eyes beamed up at you through his long eyelashes, clouded over with lust and reflecting the faint light of the lamps on either side of the bed. His breath fanned over your heat, sending chills down your legs.
He was giving you a break. Just because you were tired did not mean Tom was, and after a few days with no action, he was ready to show you just how desperate he was for some.
“More,” you begged, pushing some damp curls that had fallen away from his forehead back. His free hand lowered to between your legs, his touch feather-light as he ran his index finger through your folds, soaked with your own arousal as well as his saliva.
“More?” he questioned teasingly, moving his finger in a figure-eight motion around your clit and your opening, dipping in just for a second before retreating. You nodded quickly to answer him, not trusting yourself to use your voice. “Use your words, baby.”
“Yes,” you choked out as he circled your clit, “please, more.”
“Thought you were tired?” Without even looking at him, you knew he was smirking. You could hear it in his voice. You exhaled in annoyance, groaning quietly as he continued to torment you. He chuckled at your reaction, finally giving in and placing his lips back on your core, as well as slipping a single finger inside, and very soon after, a second. You inhaled sharply at the new feeling, hands darting down to run your fingers through his soft hair, tugging at the curls as if you could control him like a puppet. Either that or he just knew exactly what you wanted, circling and pulling on your sensitive clit while simultaneously pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up ever so slightly to graze your g-spot.
Reaching your second orgasm took mere minutes, leaving you spent and panting harder than after the first. You knew that unless you pulled him away, he’d continue his assault on you. Breathing heavily with parted lips, you tugged harder than before on his hair until his lips left your body with a quiet pop, his own breathing heavy as well. You pushed your fingers through the dark curls that had fallen over his forehead again, attempting to smooth them down. Fortunately or unfortunately, you weren’t sure, but they refused to settle, instead sticking up in odd angles from your constant tugging. Either way, he looked beautiful, all messy hair and lust-filled eyes. Glancing down at him, his glistening lips pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and another, and another, working up your body until he was eye level with you. His hand settled on your ribcage and yours on the back of his neck as he kissed you roughly on the lips, teeth clashing together, letting you taste yourself.
Tom hovered over you as your lips danced with his for a few minutes, rough and passionate, his large hands grasping at and exposed skin he could find, which was quite difficult considering you were still wearing a bra. His arms coiled around you to get to the clasp, forcing you to wind your arms tighter around his neck and arch your back to create enough room for his arms to pass under you. You could feel him tug at the clasp with one hand, unable to undo it, too distracted by your teeth grazing his bottom lip to adequately focus on the task at hand, which was to get you fully naked.
He just wanted to see you, why was this so fucking difficult?
“Tom, just let me-” you began to say, but Tom quickly cut you off with a firm “no” before fully sitting back on his heels, still leaning over you. His other hand now joined the first in trying to unclip your bra. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your head rolled back, an exaggerated sigh leaving your mouth. You weren’t sure why he insisted on always taking off your bra for you, but boy did he need the practice. As many times as he has tried and you demonstrated, it always took him a few moments, his fingers fumbling with the delicate clasp.
“Oh, for fucks sake-” you snapped, giving up and scooching up to sit up straight, Toms hands falling from behind you and settling in your knees. You didn’t have time for this tonight. His back straightened as he sat up to watch you work your magic, the outline of his thick cock on display under his grey sweatpants catching your attention, all but making you drool. You reached your hands behind you, swiftly undoing the clasp and beginning to tug the delicate straps down your shoulders.
“I almost had it,” you laughed as Tom attempted to salvage what was left of his ego, causing him to pout at you. Why was he so darn cute?
“Maybe on a day when I’m not as tired,” you said, fully pulling the bra from your body, “you can finally get it right, but right now we’re on borrowed time. Head can only boost my energy for so long.”
Tom rolled his eyes briefly before redirecting them to your chest, his hands traveling up from your knees to your shoulders to push you back onto the bed. He resumed his position above you, still fully clothed while you lay under him, completely exposed. His legs settled on either side of one of your thighs, his cock pressing firmly into your leg, straining against his pants. Another wave of chills, which Tom noticed, ran down your body as a gust of wind blew into the room, the cold causing your nipples to harden immediately.
“You cold?” he smirked, bringing a hand up to pinch your left nipple, rolling the bud teasingly between his thumb and index finger. You squinted your eyes at him, which caused him to chuckle.
“Yes, actually-” before you could finish, Toms’s fingers stilled and he gestured over to the open window, his head turning to follow his hand, asking if he should close it. Cupping his cheeks between your hands and turning his face back to you, you exclaimed, “No, oh my god, just fuck me already!”
The look of surprise on Tom’s face at your outburst was that of pure shock, as he very evidently did not expect you to be so desperate. Alternatively, the look on your face was one of slight annoyance as well as desperation and it set Tom into a frenzy. Your eyes were stars again; deep and dark and gleaming with desire. He swore he could see every constellation, every supernova, every inch of the cosmos in your beautiful eyes. After a moment, he whispered, “As you wish,” before leaning down to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss.
Tom relished this moment. He was with you, the most important, precious person in his life and he got to see you like this. Which reminded him: he was still clothed. You seemed to have had a similar thought, as he felt your delicate fingers graze the sides of his torso as you searched for the hem of his shirt. Finding it, you started pulling it up, allowing Tom to break away from the kiss to pull the t-shirt over his head and chuck it somewhere into the room before reconnecting his lips with yours.
You raked your nails down his pecs as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips. The sensation caused Tom to exhale into the kiss, eliciting a giggle from you. He broke away from your lips, ghosting over your jaw before settling on your neck in a spot he had yet to leave a mark on. You traced your hands down his muscular chest and over the prominent grooves of his abs, settling on his waistband and undoing the loose bow he’d tied. Pushing his sweats and boxers down at the same time, he kicked them off, letting them fall over the foot of the bed and land on the ground with a soft thud. His cock audibly slapped against his lower abdomen, the head red and already leaking precum. Reaching down with one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his length, spreading the sticky fluid around his sensitive tip with your thumb causing him to rut into your hand. You pumped your hand a few times slowly, using your fingers to press against that one extra sensitive spot right under the head, making Tom gasp against your neck.
You could feel Tom’s hands reach down to push your legs open for him to settle between them, the tip of his dick mere inches from your entrance. He was now out of reach, and he hissed softly at the loss of contact between your hand and his very erect cock. His arms rested on the bed on either side of your head, hot breath fanning over your face. His eyes were half-open and glossy as he looked down at you, writhing under him, waiting for him to fill you.
“Ready?” he whispered against your lips. Since day one, Tom always asked for explicit consent before, always making sure that you were comfortable. You loved it. It was never a mood killer, in fact, it made the whole interaction that much more intimate.
“Yeah,” you whispered breathlessly as you gazed up at him, nodding slightly. You tilted your head up to catch his lips in another kiss, full of passion and desire and love. God, you loved this man so much it would surely be the death of you.
After a few moments, he pulled back, looking you directly in the eyes and whispering a quiet “okay”, one of his hands moving down to hold his dick, running the tip through your soaked folds, grazing your clit, and causing you to jump at the unexpected feeling. Guiding himself in, he slowly slid into your drenched core until his hips were flush with the backs of your thighs. Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, and his eyebrows furrowing as a exhale of pleasure left his lips at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. “Fuck...” He grunted through clenched teeth.
He waited like that, buried inside your tight pussy, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock inside you. And he’d wait like that until you would tell him to move. While he waited his lips ran over your neck and shoulder, leaving soft, loving kisses in their wake. After a few moments, you tugged on his messy hair, signaling him to look up at you. “Move,” you pleaded quietly before he pressed his lips to yours and adjusted himself to begin moving. Your eyes fell closed as he pulled his hips back slowly, until he was almost out, then snapped them forward in one fluid motion, causing you to yelp. He eased into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips, hitting that one spot deep inside you that made you yelp every time the tip of his dick hit it.
“Y/n/n, open your eyes.” He whispered sweetly against your skin as he left soft kisses on your cheek and jawline. You complied, letting your eyes slowly flutter open and look up at the ceiling, Tom soon emerging from the crook of your neck to meet your gaze, smiling. You took this opportunity to admire him as he hovered above you. His short hair was a sweaty, tousled mess, sticking up in odd directions from your fingers tugging at it earlier. His thin, pink lips were now swollen and darker from your fervent kisses. His freckled cheeks were flushed a deep pink. His dark brown eyes made you melt, looking down at you in a way that made you forget about everything else going on in the world. It was just the two of you, in the home you shared, making love.
You snaked your arms around Tom’s toned body, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his shoulder blades, pulling him as close as you could get him as his thrusts sped up, becoming sloppier. His hand slipped between your bodies and rubbed rapid circles around your already overly sensitive clit. Gasps and moans fell from both of your lips. You could feel the familiar knot already tightening in your abdomen as his thrusts became more erratic. He knew you were close, your walls clenching around him as he relentlessly pounded into you, chasing his own high to catch up to you.
“Tom- Tommy I’m close.” Your words were music to his ears, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He dropped his head back into the crook of your neck, littering your skin with kisses to muffle the loud moans that threatened to spill from his throat that he knew would certainly annoy the neighbors. One of your hands traveled up the base of his neck into his hair, closing your finger in his curls, pulling on them gently the way you knew drove him crazy.
“I know,” he panted against your neck, “me too.” His fingers never stilled, continuing to rub fast, tight circles against your clit until you crashed over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping for the third time that night, pleasure-filled spasms racking your body, and loud moans spilling from your lips. A few more rough thrusts and the muscles in his shoulders tensed, his body lurching against yours as he came, releasing inside you. His lips found yours as you both tumbled over the precipice in unison, one of his arms wrapping around your waist and snaking up your back, his hand settling between your shoulder blades. He held you up like that, your back slightly arched and your breasts pressed against his chest as he continued to sporadically buck up inside you, riding out both your highs until he couldn’t support his weight anymore and he collapsed on top of you, still inside you.
You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently placed his forehead against yours, both of you panting as if you had just run a marathon. You both stay like that for a few moments, chests meeting with every inhale, breathing the same air. Groggily, your eyes open only to find Tom already looking at you, his dark chocolate eyes soft and a small smile gracing his lips as he admired you in your post-orgasm bliss. Your cheeks were flushed, dark eyes hidden behind half-closed lids, and lips a deep pink and kiss-swollen.
"What?" You asked, placing your hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone delicately with your thumb. He leaned deeper into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face.
"Nothing," he muttered, "You're just amazing."
"Amazing in bed?" You asked sarcastically, a cheeky grin spreading across your lips, "Thanks, I try."
"No-" he starts, before seeing the bewildered look on your face and correcting himself, "well, yes, you are, but I meant in general. I love you so much Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without you."
You looked up at him in surprise. Moments of vulnerability like this were not uncommon between the two of you. You both frequently told the other how much they meant to you, how you couldn’t imagine life without the other person. And yes, this did usually occur right after sex, when both your emotions and hormones were at a high. No matter how many times he said things like this you could never get used to the sound of his voice saying those words to you.
“How did I get so lucky?” You wondered aloud, continuing to run your thumb over his cheek.
“Dunno,” he said cheekily, shrugging his shoulders, “good karma?”
Your melodic laugh filled his ears, your eyes closing as you giggled at his stupid joke. He leaned down to kiss you, cutting off your laughing. Your arms wound around his neck again as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips, making you groan. After a moment he pulled back, placing a kiss on your cheek and gently pulling out of you, flopping onto the bed next to you. He pulled you into his side, holding you in his arms. You nuzzled your head against his chest, his heart still beating rapidly under your hand. You two laid like that for several minutes, sweaty and warm, stuck to one another.
Your eyelids began getting heavy and you almost slipped off into a deep sleep before Tom shifted under you, gently rolling you off him and getting up to go to the bathroom. You could hear water running for a few seconds before shutting off and Tom emerged from the doorway holding a washcloth. He sat down on the edge of the bed and used the warm towel to clean up the mess between your legs before setting it down on the bedside table. He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and mumbled something against your temple. "Wanna go again?"
Your eyes shot open. He flashed you a crooked smile, raising his one messy eyebrow suggestively. Is he serious?
“Tom, I’m so tired-” you started, but he cut you off with a peck on the lips, short and sweet.
“That’s not what I asked love,” his voice was lower, seductive, as he maneuvered to hover over you again, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to lay more kisses down on your already heavily marked skin. He is serious, oh my god.
You hesitated for a moment before caving in, “Yeah…” you trailed off as he nipped at your collarbone, “but I have no energy anymore.”
“That’s alright darling,” he whispered into your ear, sending chills down your spine at the pet name that he knew would drive you crazy, “you just relax and let me do all the work.”
-
A/N: The amount of times Grammarly told me I had errors when I was writing this when I didn’t was ridiculous oml lol but hey it’s done!! I’m really proud of it obviously I will keep writing and will get better, but hey my first fic and I don’t hate it. anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, requests are open right now so if you would like a short lil blurb feel free to send me something! 
Tags: @hollandprkr​ @itstaskeen​
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Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)
Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!
Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”
Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission. 
Calculated Risk
Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: None, I don’t think!
“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.
“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.
“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him. 
“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.
“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.
“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”
“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.
“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.
“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.
Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics. 
“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.
“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.
“Well-”
“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.
“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.
“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.
“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.
“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.
“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.
“What?” 
“What?” 
“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.
“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.
“You’re telling me that?” You ask.
“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.
“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.
~+~
Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down. 
As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.
You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew. 
You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.
“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.
“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.
“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.
“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.
He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.
“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.
“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.
It’s only a moment later when you speak again.
“Bend down,” You tell him.
“What?”
“Bend down.”
“Why?”
“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.
“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.
“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.
“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.
“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.
“...Touché.”
~+~
Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.
“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.
He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.
“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended. 
“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.
“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.
“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.
“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?” 
“I didn’t need the help-” 
“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.” 
“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”
You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.
“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.
“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.
“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.
“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.
“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.
But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.
“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.
“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.
You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.
“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that. 
“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist. 
Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces. 
“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.
“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.
“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.
“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.
“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.
Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.
Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.
~~~~~
Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove
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tigerkirby215 · 3 years
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5e Sona, the Maven of the Strings build (League of Legends)
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(Artwork by Shilin Huang. Made for Riot Games.)
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(Shit meme by yours truly.)
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Revealing my Champion Mastery just to say that I play a lot of Sona. Don’t flame me for playing Seraphine and Yuumi I swear to god, and I have no idea why Teemo is in my top 10 highest mastery champs ngl.
Anyways you have no idea how happy I am as a Sona main that my girl is now top tier. I came to League of Legends from Overwatch (yes really) and I used to main Lucio in OW along with some of the more “techy” characters like Symmetra and Torbjorn. (Came to OW from TF2 where I mained Engineer and Medic.) Sona was a natural fit for me as a champion who was both easy to play and very similar to Lucio. It also helps that I joined the Rift during the single most engaging meta to ever grace this game. I was kinda too shit to play Janna but the Ardent Censer meta is also why I have such a high mastery on Lulu tbh.
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But enough about my history with League: Sona! Honestly when I think of an archetypical support Sona pops into my head a lot sooner than Soraka: a champion based on empowering their teammates in as many ways as possible with heals, shields, movement speed, and CC to hold the enemy team down. I’ve always loved playing her because she feels like much more of a macro oriented character than other supports, with team-wide support as opposed to keeping one person alive like Soraka or Yuumi or focusing on CC like Morgana and Nami.
I’m going to build most if not all the champions eventually but man I am happy to tackle Sona now. She’s always been on my mind as my main but it was pretty difficult to think of how to make her. I think this build is good enough though!
Wow that was much longer of an intro than I’m used to. You can really tell which champions I’m excited for lol.
GOALS
Everything in harmony - Sona boosts everyone on her team with her songs as they fill the air.
Triple time! - Sona’s ability to boost her whole team into a good position is always beneficial.
Crescendo! - Fun fact: Sona’s ultimate is canonically extremely painful as she forces you to contort your limbs against your will. Why is Sona needlessly macabre? Well remember that Riot also wrote Volibear as an Eldritch old god.
RACE
Sona is Human but if you want to be cool you can make her a Kalashtar for resistance to Psychic damage and advantage on Wisdom saves. Regardless we’re going to be making what’s known as a dollar store Kalashtar with Variant Human. Increase your Charisma by 1 as well as your Constitution because we kinda don’t need much else. You also get proficiency in one skill of your choice which will of course be Performance, and a language which you can pick as you fancy: you won’t be speaking it anyways lmfao.
That’s because “Only you can hear me summoner; what masterpiece shall we play today?” Grab the Telepathic feat to complete this dollar store Kalashtar package. Increase your Charisma score by 1 and get a 60 foot telepathy to speak while being mute. You also learn the Detect Thoughts spell and can cast it once without using a spell slot. "Did he want... four autographs? I don't understand."
ABILITY SCORES
15; CHARISMA - Charisma is tied to performance and all the other stuff a Demacian noblewoman is expected to be good at.
14; DEXTERITY - Something something medium armor; even if you wear a dress there’s no reason you can’t have some padding beneath it!
13; STRENGTH - Hey this isn’t something something medium armor!
12; CONSTITUTION - Sona may be squishy in League but I value not dying more than good skill checks honestly.
10; WISDOM - Speaking of not dying: Wisdom saves are more common, and Insight is more useful than most Intelligence skills.
8; INTELLIGENCE - We had to dump something so unfortunately Intelligence gets the short end of the stick. You may have studied under the illustrious Buvelle family but most of those lessons were music classes.
If you want a better stat array going 13 / 14 / 12 / 10 / 10 / 14 with Point Buy is perfectly viable, and if your DM is cool enough to let you multiclass without Strength then you’re more than welcome to dump it.
BACKGROUND
There’s two obvious backgrounds that fit Sona: the first is Entertainer for proficiency with Acrobatics and a skill of your choice (since we already took Performance lol.) You also get proficiency with Disguise Kits and your Etwahl! (That’s what Sona’s instrument is called btw.) Your background feature By Popular Demand allows you to play any stage once. "Some, just the once.” You can perform in exchange for a place to stay, and when you do so the local people will remember your wonderful performance!
But making an Entertainer Bard is kinda cliché, no? If you want to lean into Sona’s Demacian heritage go for the Noble background. This gives you proficiency with Persuasion and History as well as a gaming set of your choice: unfortunately Tellstones isn’t an option (unless your DM decides otherwise!) so a Dragonchess Set will do well enough. Oh and you get another language that you won’t speak: fun! Your Position of Privilege makes it easy for you to arrange meetings with other important people, and the commonfolk will be kind and cordial with you.
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(Screenshot from the Tellstones: King’s Gambit trailer by Riot Games.)
I personally opted to go for Noble when making this build, but if you want to choose Entertainer go right ahead! Backgrounds don’t affect too much overall and it’s up to you (and your DM) to make your own Sona!
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(Artwork from League of Legends Wild Rift. Made for Riot Games. RIOT PLEASE UPDATE MUSE SONA ON PC I’M BEGGING YOU!)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - BARD 1
I mean what else did you expect? Bards get proficiency in three musical instruments of their choice: a Lyre is the closest you’ll get to Sona’s Etwahl, though a Dulcimer is also pretty close. I’d also recommend grabbing a Lute since most magical instruments come in Lute variety.
You also get proficiency in 3 skills of your choice like Perception to watch wards, Insight to watch people, and Athletics for a bit of Tenacity to break out of grapples. (As well as potentially grab some people yourself! Although Acrobatics is also perfectly fine for escaping grapples.)
As a Bard you can boost your ADC with Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You have a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier and they come back after a Long Rest.
But of course the main reason to play a Bard is to do Demacian-banned Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list like Vicious Mockery for some diminuendo, making it harder for the enemy to hurt your allies while also cutting them down to size. (I don’t know if your DM will let you slap your Etwahl angrily and then point at them judgingly, but you may have to break your vow of silence every now and then.) You can also learn Prestidigitation for all sorts of general magic stuff that you really shouldn’t do in front of anyone important.
You of course also learn 4 Bard spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word for the atypical healing spells, Dissonant Whispers for some Hymn of Valor damage, and Detect Magic which you’ll likely be expected to cast as the designated support. *Sigh* Always gotta buy wards.
LEVEL 2 - BARD 2
Second level Bards could be called a Jack of All Trades, as you get to add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you aren’t proficient in. This means even if your ability scores are bad the skills you don’t have proficiency in are still good enough! You also get Song of Rest, letting your allies recover an extra d6 of health during Short Rests. And if you have Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything  Magical Inspiration will let your allies add their Bardic Inspiration to the damage or healing of a spell they cast!
And finally you can learn another spell: against as the designated support you’re expected to take Identify.
LEVEL 3 - BARD 3
Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: Performance is an obvious must and Persuasion would probably be good as well.
But more importantly you get to choose your Bardic College and if you want to both shield your allies and speed them up look no further than the College of Glamour! That’s because Mantle of Inspiration grants 5 temporary hitpoints to a number of creatures within 60 feet of you equal to your Charisma modifier (which can include yourself by the way!) Additionally those creatures can move up to their movement speed as a reaction without provoking opportunity attacks, making this a great tool to reposition an ally who’s caught in a dangerous position!
You’re also capable of creating an Enthralling Performance: if you perform for at least 1 minute, you can attempt to inspire wonder in your audience. At the end of the performance you can choose a number of humanoids within 60 feet of you who watched and listened to all of it, up to a maximum equal to your Charisma modifier. Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you.
While charmed in this way, the target idolizes you, and speaks glowingly of you to anyone who talks to them. They also hinder anyone who opposes you, although they avoid violence unless it was already inclined to fight for you. This effect ends on a target after 1 hour unless they take any damage, you attack it, or it witnesses you attacking or damaging any of its allies. If a target succeeds on its saving throw the target has no hint that you tried to charm it, and you can use this ability once per Short or Long Rest.
Finally you can learn second level spells like Hold Person, for a one-man version of your ultimate.
LEVEL 4 - BARD 4
Ah the first of many Ability Score Improvements. You may have noticed our deliberately uneven Charisma modifier: that’s because I’m going to be taking the Fey Touched feat for +1 to your Charisma, the Misty Step spell (for Flash, of course), and the Gift of Alacrity spell from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount for a Song of Celerity! Accelerated movement? I concur.
You can also learn another spell as well as another cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand for help warding those hard-to-reach areas, and for your spell take Lesser Restoration, because yeah it’s also your job to buy Mikael’s. *Sigh.*
LEVEL 5 - BARD 5
5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration that lets their Bardic Inspiration come back after a Short Rest as well as a Long Rest. That’s good because your Bardic Inspiration increases to a d8, which also boosts your Mantle of Inspiration to grant 8 temporary hitpoints!
You can also learn another spell like Hypnotic Pattern: while it won’t do any damage and your allies can’t hit the dancing enemies it’ll still be the best recreation of your ultimate for now.
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(Artwork by Katie “TeaTime” De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 1
I hope you weren’t expecting this to be a pure Bard build, because then I’d just be building Seraphine again! Grab your something something Medium Armor as well as a shield (well technically you need both hands free to play a musical instrument) it’s Paladin time, master of auras! 
Paladins get a Lay on Hands pool equal to 5 times their Paladin level for some more healing. You can touch a creature to give them any amount of health from your Lay on Hands, or use 5 hitpoints from your Lay on Hands pool to neutralize a poison or disease affecting them. You also get Divine Sense to locate any Celestial, Fiend, or Undead as long as they’re within 60 feet of you and not behind total cover. Don’t worry it gets a lot more exciting later.
LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 2
Second level Paladins can choose their Fighting Style and you’re still more of a mage than a warrior, so Blessed Warrior will give you two cantrips from the Cleric list that use your Charisma! Guidance is an obvious must for a support and Toll the Dead is a great option if you want to go full AP.
Should you have options for attacks to target enemies who have high Wisdom? Yeah probably: Sacred Flame might be a good choice.
Of course cantrips also imply more Spellcasting! You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Charisma modifier plus half your Paladin level (rounded down) which is currently a freaking lot of spells. Let’s just go down the list, shall we?
Bless is great to buff your team and make them harder, better, faster, and stronger.
Command is a mostly harmless Enchantment spell that will force your foes to do as you, well, command. I’d argue “dance” is a reasonable Command.
Protection from Evil and Good is never bad to have in your back pocket in case you’re fighting either Kayle or Fiddlesticks.
And Shield of Faith will let you boost your ADC’s survivability with Ardent Censer!
I know you can prepare more spells but there isn’t much I want from first level of Paladin. I am contractually obligated to mention that you can also turn your spell slots into a Divine Smite if you hit an enemy with a melee weapon, but you aren’t really going to be using weapons in this build. That’s right boys hop aboard the caster Paladin train!
LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 3
Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath and Oath of the Watchers may seem weird but it’s really good at defending your allies. That’s because you get two different Channel Divinity options: Abjure the Extraplanar works similarly to the Cleric’s Turn Undead feature except it affects Aberrations, Celestials, Elementals, Fey, and Fiends.
Watcher’s Will meanwhile lets you choose a number of creatures you can see within 30 feet of you, up to your Charisma modifier. For 1 minute, you and the chosen creatures have advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws. This means that in a party of 6 this ability can give your whole party advantage on all mental saves, which is huge for keeping everyone alive against nasty casters! See? Demacia can use your magic!
Speaking of magic you get Alarm and Detect Magic as Oath spells. (Might want to swap Detect Magic from your Bard list with Mass Healing Word ty Tasha’s.) You can also use Harness Divine Power to regain a spell slot equal to half your proficiency bonus a number of times per Long Rest. And you get Divine Health, because you don’t take a sick day to stop complaining about Seraphine.
LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 4
4th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement: cap off that Charisma for maximum AP scaling!
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(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 5
5th level Paladins can finally prepare second level spells! As a Watchers Paladin you get access to Moonbeam as well as See Invisibility, both of which are very good for dealing with incoming gankers.
You can also prepare spells like Aid to boost your allies’ HP, Prayer of Healing (ty Tasha’s) for some out-of-combat healing, and Warding Bond for a Knight’s Vow.
Oh and you get an Extra Attack, which sure would matter if you were actually using weapons.
LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 6
6th level reasons get the main reason Sona’s a Paladin: Aura of Protection! All your saving throws are increased by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier, which is a full +5 currently! But what’s special about this ability is that it also applies to your allies within 10 feet of you, letting you give out auras a plenty to keep your allies safe!
You can also prepare another spell but again: not much I really want. So we’re going to be waiting a little while longer once again.
LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 7
7th level Watchers Paladins get Aura of the Sentinel, or as I like to call it: Song of Celerity. When you or any creature of your choice within 10 feet of you roll for initiative, they gain a bonus to initiative equal to your proficiency bonus. While this may make positioning a little difficult (everyone’s going to have to huddle around you) this ability guarantees that you can speed up all your important allies to make sure they get their powerful abilities off!
LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 8
8th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. You may have noticed your uneven Constitution score: grab good ol’ Resilient Constitution for a boost to your health and even more insurance on your Concentration checks. With your Paladin aura and proficiency you’d have a +12 total to your Constitution checks currently, meaning that if you take 24 damage or less you won’t even have to roll for Concentration!
LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 9
You are probably the only Paladin who cares about spells, so it’s nice that you get 3rd level spells now! Watchers Paladins get two very strong third level spells: Nondetection will help you deward and keep your allies safe from enemies that may try to sneak a peak at you, but Counterspell is the true best choice to stop danger from befalling your allies. What’s very good about Counterspell is that as a Bard you get to add Jack of All Trades to the skill check, meaning it’s far easier for you to deny an incomming spell than any other spellcaster! “Mages have enough problems without you.”
Of course you can prepare some more spells like Aura of Vitality for Aria of Perseverance, and Revivify for an ADC’s Guardian Angel. But having access to spells like Remove Curse, Dispel Magic, Crusader’s Mantle, and even Daylight on the Paladin spell list are all extremely useful to be able to prepare. Remember that you are doing yourself a disservice by not taking time to think about what the best spells to prepare would be for your current quest. "Every note is important."
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(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 15 - BARD 6
Now that we’ve got all our auras it’s time to go back to Bard for Mantle of Majesty! As a bonus action, you cast Command without expending a spell slot as you take on an appearance of unearthly beauty for 1 minute. During that minute you can cast Command as a bonus action on each of your turns without expending a spell slot. Additionally any creature charmed by you automatically fails its saving throw against the command you cast with this feature. You do have to concentrate on this feature (like a spell), and once you use it you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest.
You can also learn another spell but there isn’t much I want from the third level of Bard, really. Oh and you get Countercharm which is awful and I hate it, but since you didn’t take a 10th level in Paladin I suppose you have to use it. Spend an action to give allies advantage on their saving throws against charms and fears, I guess.
LEVEL 16 - BARD 7
7th level Bard; 4th level spells. Freedom of Movement will let you help either yourself or an ally with Mikael’s Crucible, and Dimension Door is great to get into lane fast, or back to base fast!
LEVEL 17 - BARD 8
8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement, and if you don’t like the look of something something Medium Armor then the Eldritch Adept feat might be able to help. Take the Mask of Many Faces invocation to be able to cast Disguise Self at will to change your skins as you please.
Could you have taken this earlier? Absolutely. Are there better invocations? Yeah probably, but by level 17 you can make some of your own choices. Build your own Sona: this is merely a guide and you can make your own choices.
Speaking of own choices: take whichever spell you want at this level. There’s plenty of great ones for a 4th level Bard and I can’t recommend anything in particular to you. Every musician has their own style, and it’s up to you to find your own!
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(Artwork by Yan Li. Made for Riot Games.)
LEVEL 18 - BARD 9
9th level Bards get to pretend that increasing Song of Rest from a d6 to a d8 by total level 18 is helpful.
You do get access to 5th level spells like Mass Cure Wounds, which is like Mass Healing Word but better! "Harmoniously."
LEVEL 19 - BARD 10
10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception is an obvious must to watch over your wards but beyond that? Honestly pick your poison with whatever skill you want since by level 19 you can make your own choices. (Though my personal choice would be Athletics to hopefully give some more safety against grapples.)
But of course the main boon of reaching level 10 in Bard is the Magical Secrets! ...I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you again: there honestly aren’t any spells in particular I want as Magical Secrets. Sure I could recommend spells like Haste or whatever but are they really going to be that great by total level 20? To be honest even the spells on the Bard list like Animate Objects, Greater Restoration, Hold Monster, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Scrying, and Synaptic Static are very good (although I’d sooner replace some of your old spells with them.)
Again I know this is supposed to be a “guide” but most people won’t hit level 19 anyways, so I don’t think it’s that bad for me to recommend you take your own steps to make your own Sona. Hell, build some AP if you want! I know I would!
LEVEL 20 - BARD 11
Our final level is the 11th level of Bard and I’ll be honest: it’s just to add Otto's Irresistible Dance to your spell list. It can only affect one person but it’s still your ultimate by total level 20.
Oh and you were supposed to get a cantrip last level. Uhhhhh I dunno take Mending lol.
FINAL BUILD
PROS
The rhythm connects us all - You have dozens of spells to keep your team alive and active during a fight, not to mention that all your Paladin auras and abilities really help them give 110%. It’s worth mentioning that Gift of Alacrity combined with Aura of the Sentinel is a d8 + 6 to an Initiative roll, which will almost always guarantee that whoever you want to go first will be going first!
A true masterpiece should celebrate living - Despite your somewhat weird level split you maxed out the only stat which matters for you: Charisma. And woah holy shit turns out Paladins are really good with maxed out Charisma! +5 to all saves means even your lowest save is a +4, and the saves your proficient in vary between +13 for Dexterity and Constitution (both very common!) and a whopping +16 save on Charisma!
Curtains up; I'm ready - Jack of All Trades also does quite nicely to help your middling skills. Even though I dumped most of your mental skills you’re still proficient enough that you won’t be completely helpless when caught off guard. And when you’re in the zone with Persuasion or Performance you are easily the best girl around!
CONS
Don't make me get off stage - It was my intention to recreate Sona’s positional gameplay with this build but it does present some gameplay issues when trying to maximize your effectiveness. Where do you position yourself as a character who’s still primarily a squishy caster despite your good saving throws and AC? Can you give everyone in your party support, or are they too spread out to get value out of your 10 foot range auras?
Quiet, please! - You have a damn good concentration check, but what do you concentrate on? Not only do you have a ton of spells but they all scale very good with levels and you have spell slots that go far higher than your maximum level spell. It can be hard to choose what to do with those 7th and 8th level slots.
The world is cruel... Until that changes, I'll never stop playing - One of many “meta” problems with this build was my choice to focus almost entirely on support. Sure Toll the Dead is a great damaging cantrip but your only two damaging spells are Moonbeam and Dissonant Whispers. Again: you don’t have to follow my build point-for-point and while you’ll be flamed in League for building Sona full AP I don’t think your friends will mind if you take some damaging spells.
But if you can’t tell it was really hard for me to come up with those downsides. With the exception of the positional requirements a Bardadin is a very strong build and Sona is a very strong support. Boost your teammates with your own amazing power and make sure everyone’s alive and jamming! Your power may have been forgotten over the years but no one’s ever upset to have a great support at their side. And remember: Seraphine may be in K/DA but you’re in Pentakill, and you have your own label! No one can replace DJ Sona!
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teawaffles · 3 years
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The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2
“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”
The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.
“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”
“What!? Really?”
Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.
“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”
“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”
Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.
The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.
For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.
Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.
Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.
“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”
Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.
“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”
“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”
Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.
“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”
“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.
However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.
“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”
Albert could sense what he was trying to say.
“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”
Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.
“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”
“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”
At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.
“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”
Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.
“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”
“Huh?”
Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.
The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.
“There’s someone there.”
“Huh? Really?”
Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.
Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.
“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]
“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.
The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.
For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.
At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.
“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”
“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”
“I’ll do my best.”
At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.
“Are both of you already acquainted?”
“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”
Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.
“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”
“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”
“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”
Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.
“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”
Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.
“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”
“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”
Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.
“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”
“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”
Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.
“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”
Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.
“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”
“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”
“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.
Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.
“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”
At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.
“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”
But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.
“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”
“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.
Andy sighed, as if astonished.
“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.
Albert nodded firmly.
“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”
“T-Take care……”
Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.
Scoreboard
🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy
🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena
Footnotes:
[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)
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luvlyrv · 3 years
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Duel | Seulgi x F!Reader | Knight!AU
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Request: Okay so I have a request 👀 you don’t have to write it if you want want to, but the idea came to my head and I thought why not request it from one of my favourite writers! 🥺
SO, knight!seulgi. Or basically Seulgi with a sword and being bad ass 🥴 maybe a small bit of enemies to lovers, who knows? But just Seulgi. With a sword. 😳🥵
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: i hope you like it! i'm not big on action scenes so they were kind of rushed, sorry :( also sorry that it took so long my dear!! hope you're doing well <3
Date: 4/11/21
You uncomfortably roll your shoulders back, a phantom pain gradually enveloping your body. Somehow the mere sight of Seulgi was enough to send shudders down your spine as your body recounts the sensations of the many fights you've had with her. Maybe defeat has already etched itself into your muscle memory.
You let out a quiet breath as you observe her sparring session with a fellow damoiseau, a knight-in-training. Your mind feels a bit torn by the sight in front of you. On one hand you are entranced by the fluid motions and contortions that Seulgi managed to make her body do. On the other hand you struggle to not make an obviously unsettled face. Your mood sours at the disappointment you feel when reminded of the fact that despite how much you try to observe and study her, you have never bested her in a duel.
Besting the people around you had always come easy. You've enjoyed the pain of your training, knowing that it would be proven a worthy investment of your time when you see a pitiful body laying on the floor in front of you. When you get to see the face of defeat, hear the admittance of it. For all you know you are the perfect warrior. A noble knight worthy to serve the monarch.
You're better than everyone. You know it. Except for her.
What was it? What did you she have that you didn't? Every time she bested you in a duel it dealt a bastardly blow to your ego. The words 'second best' would make your eye want to twitch. For all your strength and endurance, your familiarity with the motions of battle, Seulgi just seemed to understand it more.
You recount the many times your body would strain itself after being dealt with many sharp thwacks. The throbbing pains from falling and rolling, again and again. The sense of hope and excitement as you pushed yourself to take on a stance and seemingly deal a final blow, only for Seulgi to easily and gracefully step away, just to kick you back to the ground.
You hate her. You hate the weaklings underneath you too. You swear you can hear them snicker when you lose to her, that treacherous woman.
You stop your thoughts when you suddenly hear the booming voice of your master calling for you. Your grip strengthens around your training sword as you slowly make way towards Seulgi. It's time for the two of you to repeat the process. This time though, you are determined to win. Certain of it. Seulgi, the best apprentice in your regiment, would not longer make a mockery of you.
Your jaw hurts as clench, barely containing your anger. You try to calm down and refocus on the situation at hand. You look at Seulgi as she stands in her own battle-ready stance in front of you. You wonder how her blows deal so much power when her frame looks so delicate.
Focusing on calming down your breathing, you slowly advance forward. Your opponent does the same and soon enough you're circling around each other. It's the same story again. The same beginnings.
You want to end things quickly and dive in for the first blow. One blow should be all you need, you think to yourself. You force yourself to go as quickly as possible, everything around you a blur except for your target herself. All of a sudden though, she disappears and suddenly you feel your training sword facing resistance, threatening to escape your grasp.
You grunt in frustration and reorient yourself to find Seulgi. You spot her and balance yourself waiting for another opening. She is always on the defensive it seems, but you are never one to wait. As the seconds go by you deem it the right time to go for a slash. It feels as if your body is moving through molasses as you watch Seulgi glide out of your weapon's way in horror. You see her sword and a painful thwack is given.
It's the same story again. The same middle.
You repeat and repeat these motions. You going in for a hit only to be countered. Sometimes you'd get one in, but like you your opponent is hardy and gets back up. After a brutal pummeling you must resign yourself to defeat, as much as your heart hates it. The same ending as always.
This time though you can't seem to hold your tongue back.
You storm up closer to Seulgi and roughly hold onto the collar of her training attire. "What the hell is it? What's your secret?" You shake the woman a bit until her hands come up to your wrist. She pushes them down and you decide to let go. "Rematch tonight. I'll prove my worth." The words come out viciously but quietly. They were a promise both to her and yourself.
The crowd of spectators around you stay quiet after your outburst, and Seulgi doesn't say anything either. Not bothering to look at anyone's faces you leave the grounds to change clothes. They stuck to you with sweat and the gritty dirt that covered it bothered you
You can't think much for the rest of the day. The thoughts of your failure prevents you from enjoying training or beating other people. Soon enough you find yourself looking at a bowl of measly soup and bread in the mess hall all by yourself.
The warm soup makes you feel marginally better, but you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you take in your surroundings. This scenario is routine. You sit by yourself somewhere among the crowds of people interacting and enjoying their meal together. Even if people were nearby you simply would not speak. Why waste your breath on them?
In contrast to you though, you notice how hordes of people flock around the number one apprentice. Vying for her attention. Are you jealous? You can't tell. You just wonder if people would act that way towards you if you were the best.
Soon enough you hear the familiar yelling of a commander telling you all to return to your bunks. You quickly put away your bowl and utensils before hanging back from the line of people walking back towards the measly barracks that housed you all. Through the large body of people you see the crowd finally thin out as people their respective barracks. As you get closer to yours you finally spot Seulgi towards the entrance of the building. Coming up behind her you speak out.
"You didn't forget, did you?" She takes a moment to think before huffing.
"I suppose I should humor you after all."
You turn without letting her speak further. There's a silence between the two of you as you go to retrieve your training swords. You'd expect to hear loud padded footsteps behind you, but surprisingly Seulgi's footsteps sound faint. Nearly nonexistent.
The night sky of course makes it hard to see things, but your years of training has ingrained the layout of the entire area into your heart. It also helps that the moonlight allows you to see just enough as well. You make it to your destination with ease, picking up your weapon you watch as Seulgi grabs hers too.
"Where are we going to fight?" She questions you tiredly.
"Out in the field." Your answer is curt as you once again lead Seulgi, this time to the middle of the field you had fought in earlier in the day. When you arrive you distance yourself farther away from her and take your stance.
"You ready?" You ask her as you plant your feet into the ground and focus on your breathing.
"Mhm." Seulgi, unlike you, decides to stand there. She seems uncommitted, like she doesn't care about the fight. How dare she do that when your pride is on the line? When you're taking this so seriously?
Frustration builds up inside of you as you take her attitude as disrespect. You move in to give her a quick jab. Extending your arm, you feel your weapon graze her before she moves out of the way. A popping noise fills the air as she strikes down near the hilt of your weapon, trying to make you loosen your grip. It almost works but you quickly readjust your hands. You force up your sword in retaliation, breaking away the contact between your two swords.
With your sword so high up you decide to go for a horizontal swing towards Seulgi's body. In the early moments of your swing though, Seulgi ducks down and gives you an upwards jab towards your chest.
You heave as air forcefully leaves your lungs, a pain exploding around your chest.
"God!" You wheeze out loudly. Seulgi stands in front of you while she lowers her sword. You get down to your knees and look at the ground. Your breathing normalizes quickly but you try to get your bearings before rising again.
"I still... don't get it." As quickly as your breathing returned to its normal state, your voice quivered as your eyes felt hot. The disappointment that you seemingly always felt around Seulgi had made its reappearance. This time it hit harder than normal. Hard enough to make you start crying.
As your breathing began to become more uneven you finally raise your head and stand up. The form of your opponent gets closer to you. The only sounds between the two of you is the noises escaping your throat as you broke down again.
"How can you manage to fight like that?" You notice Seulgi has put both of her hands out to you. Your hesitance to take them spurs her to speak.
"I'll show you." Her voice touches you somehow. How have you never noticed how angelic she sounded? How gentle she was being with you right now? "Just take them."
You allow her to take your hands. She carefully clasps her similarly calloused hands around yours and begins to move. Her body sways, you don't quite understand why but you try to follow suit.
"I don't get it." You say as you try to mirror her movements. You fumble in embarrassment as Seulgi moves with confidence and grace. You're like a fawn who hasn't learned how to walk next to her.
"I'm a dancer, don't you see?" She momentarily lets go of your hands and walks backwards. You miss the feeling of her hands but you're entranced by the short show she puts on.
She performs for you, the dance itself was beautiful as she created curves and angles with her body. The moonlight enhances it, bouncing off her body and allowing her to glow.
Why have you never noticed how delicate her features looked? How it looked as if she was hand sculpted by the gods?
She returns back to you, taking your hands in hers and leads you back to dancing. You focus harder on trying to mimic her correctly. Eventually the both of you are gracefully dancing across the vast field. You're calmer now, happy even.
"See?" Seulgi says after a while of silent dancing. "The battlefield is my dancefloor, and I'm simply dancing around your blade."
"You're an incredible dancer, Seulgi." Seulgi has brought the two of you closer now. You notice how her lips tug up a bit as you pay her a compliment. That was the first time you've complimented her, perhaps even anyone here. It was the first time you said something without malice to her.
"I try." She laughs a bit. "I wanted to be a professional dancer at first actually. My family wanted me to go into a more noble field though, for the sake of our reputation. I protested at first of course. As I thought more though I decided I wouldn't mind protecting people. I still try to dance everyday though."
"Oh." Shock is laced through your voice. Listening to Seulgi was a humbling experience to say the least. You had wanted to become a knight for your own honor, to attain glory and recognition. You hadn't paid much thought towards protecting other people.
It was also strange to see Seulgi treat you like this. Her kindness was unprecedented. Was your hatred and spite one-sided all along?
"Hm?" Seulgi is curious to your shock as she quirks her eyebrow.
"Sorry."
"For what?"
"I've..." It hurts you a bit to say sorry, let alone apologize correctly. You force yourself to do it though. Maybe, just maybe, you need to change. "I've certainly acted coldly towards you and others. My actions have been... conceited." You here a soft giggle before Seulgi speaks again.
"You're cuter when you're not being awful, you know?" You're glad that the sun has set and that Seulgi can't see the embarrassment on your face. Seulgi hums a tune as you continue dancing together.
"Try smiling more and scowling less. You'd be more approachable that way, along with some attitude changes of course. Aren't you lonely?" She tries to advise you, and normally you'd lash out if anyone made comments about your behavior, but you can't help but to listen to the soothing voice of Seulgi.
"...I can try." You whisper. "I think, if I may speak frankly, I would be okay with being second best under you." Seulgi laughs again.
"Oh? Was dancing with you all it took to make you earn some humility?"
"Maybe... can we dance again another time?" You ask with hesitance before you quickly elaborate. "To get better at fighting, like you! Of course. Only if you want to."
"If this would effectively make you learn your lesson, then sure."
This was the first time you could talk to someone like this, and you like it.
"Thank you, Seulgi, for your patience."
You understand why she's the best apprentice out of all of you. Why people flock around her. Who wouldn't want to be near the giving soul of Seulgi?
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WC: 3.2k
Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader
Requested by @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku​!
Genre: Angst/Fluff
TW: Toxic family, cursing
A/N: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I had so much fun writing it! I hope you like it too :D
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The news is a fickle thing.
No matter how big an affair would be featured on the headline, it would always be replaced the next day. 
Possibly worst of all, the news would spawn rumors. And those rumors would grow and burn through the kingdom, with each retelling falling further and further from the truth.
The servants of the castle would tell you these rumors. Never to your face, of course - some of them shook when you got too close to them. But during their duties, they would spread these strange, twisted rumors from one person to the next.
The royal advisor would tell you, your mother, and your father the news. Most days would be boring, plain, forgetful, even. But news was news, no matter how interesting rumors may be.
But today, the royal advisor ran into the throne room, sweat dripping down his face.
“A thief! There’s a thief!” 
The rumors were true.
“Do you forget who you’re talking to?” Your father seethes between his teeth.
“N-no! Of course not, your highness. Forgive me.” The advisor begins to tremble, and he doubles over, groveling at the King’s feet.
You hate that satisfaction you see in the King's eyes.
In your father's eyes.
“Rise. There’s a thief?”
“Yes, your majesty!”
“Where has he been spotted?”
“The houses of the nobles. They’ll return home to find their house completely undisturbed, yet all of their riches and valuables will be gone. In their place, this is all that’s left.” He passes a slip of paper forward, and the king takes it gingerly. You peek from your throne, disregarding the sharp glare your mother gives you.
The paper is almost barren. There’s only a single letter, written with flair: H. 
A strange signature for a thief, you think.
“The nobles have enough money to buy back what was stolen.” The queen says smoothly, her tone sharp and refined. “Why should this concern us?”
“Because, your highness, the thief seems to be getting closer and closer to the castle by the day. He started on the outskirts of the kingdom, but he’s steadily moving inward.”
Despite yourself, you blurt out, “Are there any-”
“Silence. Ignore them.” He turns to you only moments later. “You are only to listen. Besides, you have more pressing issues.”
You bite your tongue and fall back into your throne.
The golden chair is cold, and it's much too big. Just sitting in it makes you feel like your parents.
You hate that feeling.
“Spread the guards all across the castle,” He demands, “Have two remain outside each of our quarters at all times. Give them orders to restrain any who they don’t recognize.”
“Of course, your majesty. I’ll send the word.” The advisor scurries off, his hands still shaking.
“You shouldn’t be too worried about this, my dear.” Your mother speaks in a sickly sweet tone that makes dread settle in the pit of your stomach. “You have to choose a suitor sooner or later.”
“She’s correct. It was not your place to intervene.”
“My apologies.” You grumble. “Forgive me for being invested in the wellbeing of the citizens.”
Your father tch-s at you. “You are not the ruler of this kingdom yet.
“Never forget who is in charge.”
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Another night, another suitor appears before you.
Perhaps you hated this one the most.
His words were sweet, yet laced with venom, and he regarded you in a light that wasn’t human in the slightest. He sang about love and how he knew you were the one, yet his words were meaningless once he became drunk on the thoughts of even more power.
You turned him down, as you had with the twenty-three other suitors your father had chosen.
“I quite liked him. Charming, handsome, a prince... He had it all.” The queen side-eyes you. “Tell me, why did you turn him down?”
“He was a fool. And a bastard.” You smirk dryly.
“Do not speak in such a vulgar manner.” Your father's eyes flash. “He was a perfectly fine young man.”
“He looked at me as if I were nothing more than meat!”
“Will you turn everyone down?” The queen hisses. “You have a duty to marry. Love is never involved.”
Your father agrees, and your heart sinks into your stomach.
The king releases a drawn-out sigh. “You will be marrying the man I see fit for you.”
His words feel like a slap to the face.
“You said I'd have a choice!”
“You’ve had twenty three choices. You’re out of time.”
“Maybe you should find better suitors that don’t see me as a pawn in their little game!”
“I’ve chosen the best of the best, you spoiled brat!”
There’s a delicate silence after his words. His breaths are heavy, and the weight of his words slowly sink onto his shoulders.
“Stay out of my sight until dawn.” His voice is soft, yet goosebumps rise on your arms.
But you comply.
You drag yourself up the stairs and into your room, locking the door behind you. It wasn’t the first time he had called you a brat, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last, yet, your lip quivers as soon as you’re alone.
Maybe it was that look in his eyes - that fire of pure hate that he saved only for his greatest enemies - that made you so upset.
You doubted you would ever know.
The castle feels unbearable. It wasn't the first time it had felt this way, but this was the first time it had started to crush you. The family pictures feel meaningless. Hollow.
So you grab your cloak and face the window.
With rope that you had stolen from the barracks and anticipation building in your stomach, the moon beams at you as you descend the castle walls and retreat into the town.
When you were younger, you saw the town only through carriages and the windows of your room. That was before the castle became the place you hated more than anything in the world.
But now, walking among the people under the darkness of the night, walking as no more than a civilian, you wished you had started making these escapes sooner.
Laughter filled the air where there would be tense silence. Singing and dancing would replace stiff, robotic movements. Fighting and teasing and pure, contagious joy spreads a fluffy warmth through your chest.
For once a day, in the darkest hours of the twilight, you were free.
You stop by the restaurant that you visited every night. The woman there was lovely - with short chestnut locks and pink cheeks, she greets you with that bright smile she seemed to save just for you once again.
“You want to try the next thing on the menu?” She giggles when you nod excitedly. “Coming up!” You drop the money on the counter and thank her, sliding into one of the empty seats.
“Excuse me.” A weary voice asks. “Is this seat taken?”
You turn around and see a pale man talking to you. He has wild tufts of lavender hair, unlike any shade you’ve ever seen. His eyes are violet too, and there are dark bags under them.
He’s... attractive, in a black cat kind of way.
You shake your head and snap out of your daze. “Uh, no. Go ahead.”
He smiles and settles into the empty seat. “Thanks, your majesty.”
“It’s nothing-” You cut yourself off, and his smile becomes a smirk. “Is it... Is it that obvious?”
“Not really,” He says, “It was a good call coming out here at night, though. You would’ve been caught within seconds if it were during the day.”
You sigh. “Well then, stranger, how could you tell?”
“You look at everything like you’re amazed. And call me Shinso, your highness.” A small smile grows on your face.
“It really is amazing, especially compared to the castle. And please stop with the formalities. I’ve come to hate them.”
“Fair enough. I mean, it would be a little fun to have people kneeling at your feet at first, but it probably gets tiring.”
“Very.” You sigh. “So, what brings you around here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Plus, I’m hungry.” He snickers. “What about you?”
“I don’t want to get married.” His eyes go wide, and you can’t help but let out a loud laugh.
“Wow.” A rosy glow spreads across his face. “Really?”
“Yeah. All of the suitors my father has picked out for me are bastards. So now he’s choosing for me and it’s just…”
“A nightmare?”
“Yeah, more or less.”
He winces. “Sounds rough.”
“It could be worse, I suppose.” You sigh.
“The king and queen have always seemed a bit off.” Shinso ponders aloud. “They felt fake.”
“They are,” You reply without hesitation, “They’re insufferable.”
“I can imagine." He sighs and regards you out of the corner of his eye for a few moments. “I would offer for you to hide away at my house or something like that, but I have a feeling the royal family wouldn't take it too well.” 
You resist the urge to rub your eyes. He seems genuinely... kind. It feels like you haven't met someone like that in years.
“I wish I could take you up on that offer, really. I’d have to get married first. Then my parents would finally get off of my back.” He nods slowly.
“Well, when’s the wedding?”
You blink. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.” His satisfied smirk only grows.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be sure to let you know once I find out.”
“I'll be waiting, your majesty.” He rises from his chair, waving to you as he strolls away. You wave back, trying to resist the growing grin on your face.
It’s only after he’s gone that you realize that he never received his order.
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The dawn was supposed to mean new beginnings. It was meant to wipe away the mess of the day before and welcome the mess that would be made today.
The dawn never did that. Not within the castle, at least.
When you exit your quarters and descend the stairs, the king is still fuming, and the queen is still ever so distant. Your “mistake” from yesterday would never be erased, not even by the dawn.
“I’ve selected your suitor.” Your father greets you, his arms folded over his chest. The queen is no more than a shadow behind him.
“Who is he?” You ask, trying to mask the anxiety that eats you alive.
“Patience.” Your mother chides, and you bite your tongue once again.
The king gestured to the frozen guards, and they come to life like puppets, pulling back the door and revealing your future husband.
Your heart sinks.
It’s the man from yesterday.
“As you may recall, this is Prince Monoma,” The king ignores the glare you give him. “There will be a ball celebrating the marriage tomorrow.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” You can catch the smirk on his face when he bows.
It’s nothing like Shinso’s-
Why are you thinking about him right now?
“I look forward to getting to know you.” He stands in front of you and grins at the anger on your face. “My love.”
Oh, how your blood boils.
“Meet with me soon, Monoma. We have much to discuss. And you,” The king’s gaze locks on you, “The queen will help you organize the wedding ceremony.”
As you understood it, the king and queen would have control over everything; the ball and the wedding.
You can’t say you’re too surprised - they had been doing this before you could even talk - yet, somehow, you managed to feel disappointed.
“First, however, we must make the announcement.” The king calls for the advisor, who scurries to his feet like a frightened mouse.
“Draft up the announcement,” He orders, “The heir to the throne has finally found a suitor; Prince Monoma of the Southern Kingdom.”
“A-ah, congratulations, your majesty.” He bows to you and Monoma, who wears a crooked smile. “I'll draft it right away, my liege.” He scrambles away, and you can’t help but feel bad for the poor man.
The document is submitted to the king only an hour later.
In tight clothes and in a crown that looked like the kings’, you stand and listen to your father lie to the citizens. Lie about how the two of you met and had fallen and love. Monoma is beaming and waving to the people, relishing in the praise and support of the crowd.
But your gaze isn’t on Monoma.
It’s on the head of vibrant lavender hair amid the crowd.
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You return to the restaurant that night, playing with your hands ever so anxiously. The singing was louder tonight, but the tunes and melodies made your stomach twist and knot. You take your regular seat, but you don’t order, no matter how bright the smile is on the face of the lovely woman behind the counter.
Your hands are trembling. Your father’s voice creeps inside your head - It tells you that you’re pathetic, that you’re nothing but a spoiled brat.
You only realize you’re crying when you see the droplets on the wooden table.
“Good evening, your majesty.” You recognize the speaker’s voice - it's Shinso. You don’t quite trust your voice, but it would be worse to leave him unanswered.
"Hello, Shinso." Your voice shatters, and you chew your lip. Damn.
He slides into the empty seat next to you, regarding you as gently as he can manage. His hands land on your back as he rubs it gently.
"Gods, I’m sorry," You sniffle, rubbing your nose, "It must be annoying to have to deal with me."
"Don’t think like that," he says. "It’s okay to cry. You’re going through a lot. Even if you weren’t, crying never hurt anyone, right?" Hearing that makes you smile softly as you wipe your tears away. They’re quickly replaced with new ones, but the words add a little bit of comfort.
Even if that comfort is only for tonight.
Tomorrow night, you wouldn’t see Shinso. You would be shipped away, dragged along with a man who saw you as no more than a piece in his little game.
But for now, for tonight, you relax into his embrace, and you let the tears fall.
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The king and queen set about preparing for the gala, leaving you to yourself for most of the day. The door to your room was locked, and clambering out of the window seemed so tantalizing.
"You would’ve been caught within seconds if it were during the day."
You sigh. Shinso was right, no matter how much you wished otherwise.
So you wait. Like a bird of paradise trapped in a cage, or like a glass doll in a dollhouse, you sit in your room and wait for your mother.
Oh, how the castle feels so suffocating.
But eventually, the click of the lock is heard, and you can see the face of your mother. Her face is soured, making the smile she wears unfitting.
"Put this on. The ball begins in an hour. I expect you to be there on time."
"Where else could I go?" She hums at your words and sets the clothing on the bed before leaving you alone once again. Her heels click against the cobblestone stairs, slowly fading into a deafening silence.
You stare at the outfit she had laid out for you.
It looks like her wedding dress.
Eerily so.
The color scheme is a direct copy, and you suspect the stitches are identical as well. It’s unnerving and it feels ever so purposeful.
As you rub your hands across the delicate fabric (was it silk?), you wonder how far you could make it if you ran into the woods. How long would it take for your father's men to find you if you escaped to another northern kingdom? 
But the clinking of iron armor sounds just outside your door. You're forced to resign those fantasies.
The guards lead you down the winding, empty stairs and stop in front of the double doors of the main hall. Behind them, the ball has already begun.
Maids in intricate gowns and men in tight, buttoned-up suits mingle, able to forget class and ranks, if only for tonight.
Was the royal advisor flirting with the owner of that restaurant?
You’re shaken out of your thoughts as your father calls for the attention of the crowd. Prince Monoma falls into place by your side. You fold your arms behind your back and refuse to meet his prodding gaze.
“As you all know, tonight we celebrate the engagement of my child to Prince Neito Monoma of the south. Their marriage will preserve the alliance between our kingdoms for many prosperous, joyous, years to come.” Your father was excellent at speaking out of his ass. “Tonight, we toast to Prince Monoma, and we celebrate.” The crowd erupts in cheers and drinks are raised in your name as well as his.
The sight makes you want to vomit.
Your father gives you a careful look before taking his leave, the queen on his arm.
You separate from Monoma immediately, weaving through the crowds of chattering and dancing guests. You thank those who congratulate you half-heartedly. You just need space. Just a moment to yourself, a moment to breathe and let it all sink in.
You hear your name. It’s a deep, familiar voice.
What’s more, there are no formalities attached.
“Shinso?” You ask. “Why are you-”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” There’s a glint in his eyes that tells you to play along, and you bite your tongue. “I hope this isn’t too rude of me, but would you care to dance?” His smile is playful and his eyes are crinkled with delight.
His smile is contagious.
You nod in agreement, and he takes your hand, leading you towards the center of the room. The stares are accompanied by mutters, but you find that you don’t mind at all.
The music crescendos and Shinso leads your dance. His grip on your waist is rough and he pulls you flush against him.
“Tomorrow’s the wedding, yeah?” His voice has dropped to a whisper, and his breaths are hot against your ear. You shudder and nod weakly. It’s hard to think straight - all of your senses are filled with him.*
He curses under his breath. “We’ll have to make our move tonight, then.” You blink and meet his gaze after he twirls you around.
“You’re actually going to do it?”
“Of course I am. I promised, didn’t I? Besides, Monoma’s kind of an ass.”
You laugh. “So, what’s your plan?”
“You’ll see.” He digs through his pocket and produces a single sheet of paper. It’s almost barren, only one letter on the entire page.
H.
You inhale sharply and he studies the expression you wear.
“Didn’t expect it to be me, huh?”
“I- why are you-”
He smirks. “I sell everything I steal and give the money to people who need it - the homeless, the orphanages, you name it.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. You aren’t scared, however - not in the slightest.
His hand rests on your cheek and he wears an almost amused expression. “Your face is burning.” He chuckles.
“I’m… just surprised.” You say. Both of you know you’re lying. “It doesn’t feel real.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?” You make eye contact with him again, and his gaze softens after a few moments. He sighs, his thumb idly stroking your cheek. Your face burns under his touch, even more so under his gaze.
“A few people do. But... I’m glad to hear that you don’t.” His stare meets yours once again, a newfound fire in his.
"You ready to run away, your majesty?"
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