#CRYING SOBBING SCREAMING SMILING LAUGHING JUMPING WITH ACTUAL JOY

[notebookpapers]

EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP FUCK-

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

spoilers: set in season 3

trigger warning: reference to verbal/mental domestic abuse

Waiting In The Wings

Being in love was not something Daryl Dixon enjoyed. For the longest time, he denied the mere possibility of it, he never thought that somebody like him would experience such a thing. But when you arrived in his life, blinding in the most beautiful way, you changed everything. It was like Daryl’s world stopped, because it realised that it’s whole purpose was to revolve around you.

It was all the way back in Atlanta, he was out on a hunt when you arrived at the camp, and by the time he came back you’d already introduced yourself to everyone. As soon as you saw him, you walked over to him with the brightest smile he’d ever seen, and held out your hand.

“Hi! Im (Y/N), you must be Daryl! Rick told me all about you!” You were so cheerful, so genuinely happy to meet him, he couldnt believe it.

The scoff that passed Daryl’s lips was automatic, but unintentional, and the same can be said for the words that followed. “He tell ya t’ come talk to me too?”

You laughed, you genuinely laughed, as though you thought Daryl had been joking and not verbalising his own insecurities. “No, silly! I wanted to meet you myself, it’s only right, you’re part of the group and we’re new here, so-“

Daryl frowned at you. “We?”

You nodded. “Yeah, me and-“

A gruff voice shouted your name from within a tent, and you jumped, your smile falling as you turned to look at the man clambering into view behind you.

Daryl was angry, he couldnt help it, nor could he understand it. Such a pure joy had survived in you, but that man had the audacity to steal it whenever he made an appearance. That anger stayed with Daryl, but somehow it didnt keep you away. You chose to sit with him to eat whenever he wasnt away on a hunt, you made conversation with him wherever you could. He couldnt fathom it.

By the time the group found the farm, you’d managed to break through some of Daryl’s hard exterior. He allowed himself to enjoy your company, to actually have decent conversations with you that werent almost completely one sided from you. Whenever you were with Daryl, he made you laugh harder than anyone else, you never lit up quite like you did when he was around. The rest of the group noticed, of course, but they wouldnt dare interfere. And just like Daryl, they knew the asshole that was your boyfriend.

More times than Daryl could count, he’d found you sobbing silently, all by yourself in various places across the farm, in the dead of night. And every single time, he’d sit with you, wrap an arm around you, and wait. Sometimes, you wouldnt say anything, just cry it out, thank him, and go. But sometimes, you would tell him what had happened, what that fucker had done to make you cry this time. Daryl tried his absolute best not to be insensitive, not to tell you to “just leave him”, because he knew you too well, he knew that wouldnt get through to you. So he just listened, and comforted in the best way he knew how: protective silence.

The mornings after nights like that were always a little awkward, because you would walk up to Daryl like everything was fine, and he wouldnt be able to just play along.

“He doesnt hit me or anything, it’s fine.” You told him once while the two of you ate breakfast at his camp, a safe distance away from everyone else.

Daryl turned to look at you and you avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldnt like whatever he was about to say, because you knew it would be true. “Don’ downplay it, y’know it aint right. Hittin’ ya would just make it more obvious.”

But Daryl knew you too well. No matter how many times that asshole screamed in your face, threatened to leave you, called you every unholy thing under the sun...you couldnt leave him. You’d explained it to Daryl once before, completely by accident. You’d casually brought up how disconnected you felt to the world before, to who you were before all of this, and that your boyfriend felt like your one last living connection to both. It wasnt in Daryl’s heart to agree, but he understood. If you lost that last connection, you thought you’d lose everything, every trace of the person you were and the life you had, everything else you’d lost would go with him. Daryl didnt have that, but he didnt need to, because he had you as his best friend. It didnt matter that he didnt know you before, because he was head over heels with who you’d become.

Naturally, your boyfriend and Daryl did not get along. While Daryl’s disliking to him was justified, your boyfriend despised Daryl simply because he made you happy, and took you away from him, the man you were supposed to love. Time and time again, Daryl would see him yell in your face and you would cower away, but anytime your boyfriend tried to get at Daryl, you would lose it. He couldnt believe the first time he saw you give that fucker a piece of your mind.

“This piece of shit redneck aint got nothin’ on me, I could take him out in a heartbeat, and I will if I see him near you again!” Your boyfriend threatened, and Daryl took a step forward, ready to stand in front of you and defend himself, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Leave him the hell out of this! In fact, leave his name out of your mouth entirely, because if I hear you say shit like that again I’ll spin your fucking jaw.” You seethed, before storming past your boyfriend, deliberately slamming into his shoulder as you pulled Daryl away, leaving both men stunned.

It was an altercation just like that one which resulted in you and your boyfriend being separated when the farm fell. He’d found you and Daryl laughing together in a secluded part of the farm, and got so mad he stormed off into the wilderness. Nobody bothered to follow him, and you didnt see him again until you saw walkers tear his stomach open and pull his intestines out right in front of you.

Daryl had just been racing towards you on his bike to rescue you, but when he followed your eyes and witnessed that, then saw you start to go into hysterics before you fainted in the middle of the field, it was all or nothing. He jumped off his bike and ran to you, shoving walkers left and right to keep them away as he swung you up in his arms and ran with you back to his bike. He rode to the highway with Carol, while you laid unconscious between his body and the bike to keep you from falling.

That gorgeous smile, his favourite laugh in the world. They became distant memories. Daryl used to be able to make you smile and laugh more than anyone else, he could barely manage to bring them back most days. Even finding the prison didnt pull you out of the deep abyss you’d lost yourself in.

Daryl shares a cell with you in the prison now. Every single night, without fail, he hears you in the bunk above him, waiting until you believe he’s asleep before you let yourself break into a thousand pieces, sobbing as quietly as you can into your pillow until you pass out. Daryl has tried talking to you about it, but you just shrug it off, apologising lamely for potentially keeping him awake but never saying more than that. These days, you cant even make it out of your cell. Your only movement is travelling from your top bunk to Daryl’s bottom bunk once he’s no longer in it, because Hershel comes to check on you everyday and it’s much easier for him to talk to you when you’re in the bottom bunk. By no means is Hershel particularly trained in aiding this kind of thing, but he’s the wisest person in the prison, the most trusted one to deal with your fragile state, apart from Daryl. Other people come to visit you too, Rick drops by every once in a while, Beth and Maggie too. Daryl even brought Judith in to see you once, and you burst into tears at the sight of her, it was just too much for you.

Anytime Hershel goes to see you, Daryl waits down the corridor for Hershel to walk by, and tries to get him to give him an update on how you’re doing, or what you’ve said. Daryl is your best friend, there are some things you just cant tell him because it’ll hurt him to hear you’re in so much pain.

“How’s she doin’?” Daryl asks the moment Hershel rounds the corner. Hershel used to jump at the sight of Daryl waiting for him, but now he’s used to it.

He sighs. “It’s private, I will tell you no more than the fact that she doesnt want to end her life.”

That is music to Daryl’s ears, and he doesnt pester Hershel anymore, letting the wise man pass him by.

Hope is restored in Daryl then, and he forms a plan. It’s a very vague plan, but still a plan. Before now, he didnt know if there was any way for him to help, or if it was even possible, but hearing even the tiniest ray of a positive sign from Hershel gave Daryl the determination to try anything. He was already eating every meal with you because he knew even if you didnt feel like eating, you’d get hungry watching him eat and wouldnt be able to resist. But Daryl starts doing more. Every single day, he brings you a flower. Just one, everyday. Once he’s picked every flower within the fences, he goes beyond the fences everyday to bring back a single flower for you, not that he’d ever tell you that he potentially risks his life for that. The smile on your face, however small, is genuine whenever he brings you one, a smile so small that other people probably wouldnt even notice it, but Daryl does, and that alone makes it absolutely worth it.

His own smile lingers on his face as he patrols the fence, hours after giving you your daily flower and seeing a glimmer of you returning to yourself. The sun is setting, and Daryl’s just returning back to the prison doors when he sees something that stops him dead in his tracks. You, walking outside, squinting in the light and shielding your eyes. Daryl sprints up to you.

“Hey there sunshine! What’re you doin’ up?” His voice is soft with you, it always has been, but lately it’s been even softer because he knows how fragile you are.

You smile at him then, not quite your beaming bright smile, but almost. “Felt like it was time to get some air.”

Hershel’s standing behind you, smiling away like he knows something, because he does.

That night, you dont cry yourself to sleep.

Daryl waits until he hears soft snores before he allows himself to fall asleep, but your crying wakes him. You may not have cried yourself to sleep, but you started crying in your sleep.

Daryl stands up from his bunk and gently shakes you awake.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N), wake up, yer alright.”

Once your eyes open and you realise where you are, you shakily climb down the ladder and Daryl picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style.

“C’mere sweet girl, ‘s alright, yer alright, I’ve gotcha.”

He sits back in his bunk, letting you lie between his legs with your head on his chest, he plays with your hair and draws patterns on your arm to calm you down. It takes maybe fifteen minutes for your tears to stop, but he waits, and they do.

“It isnt grief that’s doing this.” You say suddenly, finding your voice.

“What?” Daryl asks, beyond confused by such a simple confession. Not once had he considered that you were dealing with anything else, he’d seen other people grieve, he saw what happened to his dad as a result of grief. The catalyst of this was the death of your boyfriend, how could it possibly be anything else?

“It’s guilt.” You say, only leaving Daryl with more questions.

“What d’ya mean?” He speaks into the dark, willing to wait forever if that’s what it takes for you to find the words you need. Much to Daryl’s surprise, though, it seems that you’ve been spending all this time in the prison finding the words, because you start speaking them right away.

“Seeing him die, it hurt, it made me feel like I’d lost something, but it didnt feel like I’d lost someone I loved. I didnt love him in the end, I couldnt. He was the last connection I had to the world before, but he was a dick, I knew that, and I was stupid to stay with him for the sake of nostalgia.” You shake your head, clearly disappointed in yourself, but Daryl is still confused as to why. “It isnt so bad because he definitely didnt love me either.” You say, reciting a truth you knew to be real, one that you’d recited to yourself time and time again while coming to terms with all of this.

“Then what are ya feelin’ so guilty about?”

Daryl questions, wondering if now that he knows it isnt grief at the root of this, whether there’s more he can do to help.

You take a deep breath. “I fell out of love with him long before finding your group, and it was only when I did that I realised, because I fell in love with someone else. Every single day, I knew it was there, but I ignored it, pushed it away. Seeing him die made me realise that I’d wasted so much time on him, if the one I loved had died in his place that night...” You shake your head frantically, wiping your eyes with balled fists before resting back against Daryl’s chest. “I should’ve admitted my feelings, to myself and to him. I feel guilty for not ending things with him, for not letting myself move on with someone who was so much better for me, for forcing that person to sit and watch me pretend to love someone else. And now I feel even worse, because while I’ve been stuck like this, the guy I’ve been scared to adore has been taking care of me.” You admit, and without needing to explicitly say it, the penny has dropped right in Daryl’s lap, where you lay nestled and nervous, awaiting his response as you awkwardly stare off into the dark.

After a few minutes of silence, Daryl speaks up. “‘m guessin’ yer not talkin’ about Hershel?”

You chuckle at that, your first laugh in what feels like an eternity, and Daryl’s heart sings. Shaking your head again, you snuggle back into Daryl, neither of you needing to say anything else. Soon enough, you both fall into the most peaceful sleeps you’ve ever had.

Daryl doesnt make a move on you, it isnt the right time, he knows that. Regardless of what you’ve said tonight, you need to heal, you need to be completely in the right mind before you make a decision like that. And he’ll wait. Even if he’s been head over heels in love with you since day one, he has all the patience in the world when it comes to you.

You also know that you need to heal, and you give yourself the time to do just that. After that night, the two of you stay close friends, but there’s a little something hiding behind shy smiles and small glances. It doesnt go further than that for a while, because it doesnt need to.

Until one day, when the two of you are out on a run. Daryl’s noticed that you’ve become yourself again. The you that previously only appeared in front of him, she’s now everywhere, in front of everyone, all the time. And he isnt jealous, because the rest of the world deserves to see the beautiful person he always knew you were. Before, if you werent with Daryl you were with your boyfriend, but now you talk to everyone without fear, without worry, and with so much joy.

He sees it as you’re humming and dancing to yourself as you walk in front of him, completely in your own world.

You smile and point up at the sky “Look! That cloud looks like an arrow! We should follow it.”

And then you’re sprinting off in that direction, making Daryl laugh as he runs after you. When you get a certain distance, you stop with your back to him.

“This is it.” You state, nodding to yourself.

“This is what?” Daryl questions, having no idea what you’re referring to in any capacity.

“Where the arrow was leading us.” You explain, still not turning around.

“Where are we?” Daryl asks, looking around to try and find anything worth coming to this specific part of the forest for.

You slowly turn around, that beaming bright smile plastered in your face, with rosy cheeks framing it on either side. You are the most beautiful person he’s ever known.

“I was thinking the destination of our first kiss, if you want it to be.” You suggest shyly, somehow managing to hold Daryl’s gaze.

Your own smile draws his out, and he strides over to you, hesitating just before he gets to you, causing you to grab the collar of his vest and pull him down to your lips. Daryl is so careful with you, he always has been, but his kisses show you an entire new plain of his adoration for you. His hands meet at the small of your back, pulling you closer as you tug at his hair, your lips forming words that would make angels blush. And you should know, because when you break apart, both of you are blushing, too.

[1025cherrystreet]

funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry​ Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask.  He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.  

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down. 

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs. 

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me."  He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

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

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ?? 

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

[the-cult-of-russo]

No Going Back

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

Request : good morning. i wanna request number 8.  “Maybe you should just leave now.” angst/fighting dialogue. to be correct it is for billy russo right?

A/N: yes it's my Billy boy :') he a lil soft in this though but also an asshole lmaooo not gonna lie, this one had me swept up in the emotion. It hit quite close to home and now I'm sad :') 

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and heartbreak. Billy fucked up big time lol

Your hands were shaking as you slammed the door to your apartment. Tears stained your cheeks and you kicked your heels off before storming to your bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag and starting to pack his things that he'd left around. Heartbroken didn't even cover it. 

You knew this would happen, it's why you fought against it for so long. But you were stupid and ended falling for his bullshit and now you were a mess. 

You and Billy had been together officially for 7 months. You'd met a year ago at a bar and hit it off, but when he tried to take you home you'd denied him. That apparently piqued his interest even more. He'd always be at the bar every Friday when you went and it was always easy to just be yourself around him. You didn't take him up on his offer and he would offer every time. He never made it a secret that he wanted you. 

But as the months drew on, you both got to know each other more and it became a sort of friendship. You had to admit you felt something when you looked forward to seeing him. He'd asked you once why you were so against it and you'd been pretty blunt with him. You knew of his reputation and you weren't into it. You didn't do one night stands or casual sex. You wanted a relationship, someone to settle down with. You wanted something real. You told him you didn't think he was capable of that and he'd break your heart. 

Five months into knowing each other and he'd switched from just wanting to fuck you to wanting to actually date you and you'd still put up a fight. But as your feelings for him grew, he wore you down. The moment you agreed to that date, which he'd been over the moon about, everything changed. 

It had been so easy to be with him. He treated you like a queen, was more affectionate than you'd have thought, and you enjoyed each other's company. He was busy with Anvil a lot so you didn't see him every day but he'd call if he couldn't see you or send you sweet texts. He swore to you up and down that he'd never hurt you, never do what you'd thought he would do when you turned him down all those times. 

You'd see the looks women gave him when you went out together or were at an event as his date and sometimes you'd feel insecure. But he only had eyes for you it seemed and it reassured you. It lulled you into a false sense of security that he'd actually changed. That he actually cared about you. 

But you were wrong. So very fucking wrong and now you were paying for it. You'd been having dinner with a friend you hadn't seen in a while when it happened. Your eyes finding Billy across the restaurant. He was sat with a pretty blonde, very up close and intimate as they whispered god knows what to each other. You'd felt your heart crack but tried to deny it. It was just flirting, nothing more. But then… he'd leaned in and kissed her. 

You'd shot out of your seat so fast the chair fell over and ran out of the place like someone had lit a fire up your ass. And you knew he'd seen you because you heard him shouting your name as you jumped into a cab and left. 

You hated yourself for being surprised at what he'd done. You'd told him this was exactly how it would go but he'd swore to you. And you allowed yourself to buy into his bullshit because you loved him. 

Most of his things packed, you padded over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine, pouring a large glass. You swigged it in one and felt the warmth bloom in your chest. It did little to ease the hopeless sorrow that consumed you though. 

There was a rough knock at your door and you heard Billy call your name loudly. You tensed, heart breaking all over again as the tears seemed to be never ending. You didn't want to talk to him, to even look at him. But this was it. You couldn't stay with him, not now. You'd never be able to trust him again. You knew you had to tell him it was done so you could lick your wounds and heal from the pain. 

"Y/N, please… open the door," Billy begged from the other side. You walked over, unlocking it but not opening it as you stormed back off to your bedroom. You knew he'd let himself in. You heard his heavy footsteps entering as you shoved another of his shirts in the bag, one you liked to sleep with.

"Can we talk?" He asked hesitantly. 

"No," you bit out, eyes snapping to him. His face fell when he saw you crying and he took a tentative step into the room.

"Please, Y/N, let me explain," he frowned. You laughed but it held no joy. Only a deep rooted pain that was latched onto your soul. 

"Explain? Really? What, you gonna say you tripped and your mouth landed on hers?! I saw it with my own eyes, Billy! You don't need to explain anything!" You roared, pure pain lacing your words.

He clenched his jaw as he shook his head, eyes glassy as he stared at you. 

"I'm-I'm sorry," he started softly,  reaching out to grab your arm but you smacked it away harshly. He looked like a kicked puppy and you hated it. He didn't get to be upset about this. 

"How long have you been fucking her then?" You asked snidely as you grabbed the duffel bag, holding it in a death grip. 

"I haven't fucked her," he muttered quietly. You snorted deprecatingly and he bit down on his lower lip.

"Yet?" You asked knowingly. His guilty glance to the floor told you everything you needed to know. 

"How long, Billy? How long have you been cheating on me?" You asked, your voice wavered but your gaze had nothing but fire in it and he shifted where he stood. He couldn't look at you. 

"A month. It was always one night, I never went back to someone," he frowned. Pain clawed its way through your chest and you threw the bag at him hard. He caught it but stumbled a little and he looked at you forlornly. 

"Well, I guess that makes it better then, right?" You asked coldly and he flinched. 

You stormed past him back to the kitchen area and he followed quickly. 

"Please listen to me, Y/N. I need to make this right," he pleaded desperately. You whirled around to face him, face flushed and tear stained and you felt like you wanted to scream. 

"Why? Why did you just decide after 6 months together to do this to me? You promised me, Billy! I knew this would happen but you fought for this! For us! Why?! Just so you could break my heart?!" You bellowed, a mix of anger and utter despair in your tone. 

His lower lip quivered and he bit down on it, staring at the floor.

"I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I didn't. I just…" his voice cracked as his teary eyes landed on you. 

"Maybe you should just leave now," you uttered. Your whole body was trembling and you felt sick. You couldn't stand to look at him. He stepped closer to you, dropping the bag on the floor but you took a step back. It would be far too easy to fall for his bullshit again and if he touched you, you didn't think you'd be able to get him to leave. 

It felt like pure pain ripped through your chest, the weight of the world crashing down around you. You slumped onto a dining chair as a raw sob clawed its way out. Billy was kneeling in front of you in seconds, his own cheeks now damp as he cupped your cheeks. You moved your head from his grip and shook your head. 

"I loved you, you know that?" You whispered brokenly though your tears. You'd never outright said it, mostly in fear of his reaction. But it had all gone to shit anyway. His lip trembled again, scrunching his nose up a little as he shook his head. He looked utterly devastated and it made you angry so you continued.

"I loved you with everything I had. I trusted you with my life. I ripped out my own beating heart and willingly gave it to you because you swore to me you wouldn't do this. You just took it and stomped all over it. How could you do this to me?" Your last words were strained as the tears flowed freely.

"Please let me fix this," he begged helplessly. He was crying openly now, not trying to hide it as he gazed at you from the floor. 

"You can't fix it. I'll never be able to trust you again. It's not just the sex, Billy! You've been lying to me for a month. All those business meetings or times you were away? And you just… you'd come back to me with a smile and tell me sweet words. Looked me in the fucking eye and not feel guilty," you choked out. He shook his head vigorously, hands clasping yours so tight you couldn't pull them away.

"You've got no idea how guilty I felt. It's been eatin' me up from the inside out," he lamented.

"Why would you…? What was it? You just got bored of me? Decided you didn't want me anymore? You should have just ended this because it would hurt less than this," you wept pitifully. He shook his head, clutching your hands tighter.

"Don't… Don't say that, I do want you. I know I don't deserve you, I know I'm an asshole. And… and maybe I shoulda left it alone when you told me this would happen, but I was selfish and I-I couldn't. You were never like the others. I knew that from the moment we met. But then… then things were gettin' serious and I just… I freaked out and went back to my default 'cause I didn't know how to…'' he cried, screwing his face up as he hung his head. 

You sobbed as you stood, his hands falling away and you moved to lean against the table as he stood. 

"It would be bad enough if I'd just got with you in the first place and you did this. But I wanted to avoid this. I tried so hard but you kept on at it. And it hurts so much more because you promised me you wouldn't do this and I believed you. I thought you'd changed, that you…" you ran a hand through your hair, tugging on it as the tears wouldn't stop.

He stepped to you, grasping your face in both hands and you couldn't bring yourself to fight it despite the pain it brought you. His endless eyes were all consuming, his cheeks wet from his own tears.

"Please… please, Y/N, don't do this. Let me make it right," he begged tearfully. 

"Without trust, we have nothing. Everytime you're on your phone I'd wonder if you were talking to another woman. When you're out I'd be paranoid about who you were with. I can't live like that, Billy. I can't live my life in… in an anxious, jealous haze. That's not a relationship," you whispered. 

He made a pained noise and it squeezed your heart so hard you thought it might implode. 

"I was never good enough for you. I knew that. But I wanted… I wanted to try and be-be a good man… for you. And I fucked up so bad and I just…" his words trailed off into a hopeless sob and you squeezed your eyes shut. You wished there was a way to fix this but there wasn't. You wouldn't be in one of those relationships without trust. Checking your partner's phone and always checking in. It would break you.

"You need to leave, Billy," your words were a mere breath and his hands on your face tightened for a moment before they fell to his sides. He looked completely broken and you were sure you looked the same. He opened his mouth before promptly closing it, his jaw ticking as he moved away and pushed the heels of his palms to his eyes. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself like it would protect you from the pain and glared at the floor. You could still feel his gaze burning into you. You glanced at him as he grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. You had to fight the urge to grab onto him as he walked to your door. You felt like you were dying. 

He grabbed the handle but stopped, not looking at you as his body tensed.

"I want you to know… I love you too," his pained words felt like a punch to the gut and you covered your mouth with a hand but it did little to stop the noise that left your lips. He looked over his shoulder at you, still holding the door handle.

"I know that… right now you probably don't believe me, but I do. And I'm sorry. I-I never wanted you to get hurt. You deserve so much better," he muttered despondently. With that, he opened the door and slipped out of your apartment. Of your life. 

You fell to the floor as heaving sobs left your chest. It would have been easier if he came here being an asshole. Cold and emotionless like you knew he could be at times. But seeing him, his emotions so raw and on display, it cut you deeper than any knife could. And you believed him. You knew him well enough to believe that he fell in love with you and freaked out. You knew it would happen which is why you'd turned him down at the start. You believed he never wanted to hurt you. And you wished you could forgive him. You saw how much it hurt him too but you couldn't. You couldn't get over the betrayal and you didn't think you ever could. 

He'd sabotaged what you both had because of his inability to deal with what he felt and the bitter knowledge that if he'd just accepted it, how different your future would be with him, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Billy had opened up to you a lot in your time together about his past and you knew how much it had messed him up. You knew it left him struggling with emotions and relationships and you felt for him. For the lost boy who'd never felt love and didn't know how to cope with it. But nothing could erase the heartbreak. The hurt that he'd given you. Because even if you'd one day be able to forgive him, you'd never be able to forget.

[asmo-ds]

I've seen alot of headcanons about Simeon turning into a demon, but how would everyone react if Luke managed to turn himself into a demon 🤔 Like maybe he didn't amount up to Celestial Standards (I headcanon the Celestial realm is kinda weird due to the events of the anelic event) and then he made some type of minor violation and they kicked him out of heaven to avoid the possibility of him growing up to be undesirable in the Celestial Realm

When a Child Falls

Luke-centric ANGST & FLUFF

Warnings: Pain, falling from heaven, Luke hurting :(

Summary: After failing to live up to the standards of his superiors Luke is kicked out of the Celestial Realm and becomes a demon. Luckily for him the exchange program had given him so many new and old friends who wanted nothing but to help the poor child despite any bitter past they may have had with him

a/n: i was gonna do headcanons but then i was like what if i make a whole one shot about him falling and everyone helping him adjust to his new life and uh yea <3

Also this didn’t come out as angsty as I wanted it to but demon brothers comforting a fallen Luke >>>>>>>

He tugged on his own arm, begging for the elder angel to release him and give him a second chance, his once hopeful blue eyes filled with tears and terror. 

“Stop, I swear I just need more time, PLEASE!” Luke cried, punching the elder’s arm and attempting to pry his wrinkly hands from Luke’s small forearm. The elder yanked Luke’s arm harder, resulting in a distressed cry from the short blond.

Luke tried to steady his breathing as they approached the boundaries of the Celestial realm, where he was to be pushed off for his failure to earn his wings in a timely manner. The Celestial realm saw him as useless and decided they would be better off discarding a weak angel like himself.

“LET HIM GO, PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!” Luke could hear Simeon’s breaking voice screaming at the elders who held him back from Luke to prevent any interference, “JUST LET ME SAY GOODBYE PLEASE,” he begged to which the elder finally agreed and the two embraced tightly. “Luke you listen to me, you get to the Devildom you go STRAIGHT to Lucifer, he helped his brothers and himself through his fall he can help you, please, trust him with at least getting you through the transition then you can hate them again or whatever you want, pl-”

“I get it, Simeon, I promise I won’t let you down,” Luke interrupted, tears falling from his eyes onto Simeon’s broad shoulders. 

“Times up. Luke come to the edge, stand here,” an elder guides him into position. 

Luke’s hearing starts ringing as his adrenaline kicks in, the fear of death and disappearing from existing overwhelming him. His breathing grew fast, and before he knew it, he felt a push and wind pounding against his skin as he fell, and fell, and fell, until he saw the Devildom soil and he tensed, preparing for the worst.

Instead of hitting the ground he hears a fwoosh and finds himself caught in strong arms.

“Luke! What happened, where is Simeon? A young angel like you shouldn’t be down here all al-” Lucifer starts questioning the angel, concerned to see the small boy falling from so high. He was interrupted by a cry of agony, Luke pushed away from Lucifer, doubling over and screaming as the pain began to set in.

Lucifer recognized the transition immediately and how badly it hurt his brothers, so he gently approached the young boy, who glared at him with teary pained eyes, and he murmured a spell, before darkness washed over Luke.

- 

His innocent blue eyes fluttered open, not recognizing his surroundings, he sat up quickly, wincing and hissing as his back was suddenly filled with unbearable pain. 

Oh that’s right, I fell. They pushed me and now…His eyes snap open, remembering the feeling of falling, but nothing that happened afterward.

“I have… to find… Lucifer..” Luke spoke to himself, taking short breaks between every few words to take a painful breath, feeling his ribcage expand and contract as his wheezing continued.

“I’ve already found you, Luke, you’re in one of the bedrooms of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Please lay back and take off your shirt, your back is bound to be in a lot of pain, this serum will help.” The blond flinches as Lucifer rises from a chair next to the bed where he laid. 

Luke raises his arms and let Lucifer take off the shirt before laying on his stomach.

He hears Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat as he stares in horror at Luke’s back, where wings were starting to form, dark and mangled with feathers tangled and in need of a cleaning.

So like that, Lucifer kept Luke safe and took care of him whilst the other brothers prepared a room at the House of Lamentation for him to stay.

-

“Luke, I’ve brought you some tea and cake,” Barbatos walks into the bedroom carrying some snacks and drinks for the injured boy.

“Thank you Barbatos, I missed your cooking,” Luke smiles slightly before taking a big bite of cake and groaning. “Like, I really missed it-”

“Yes, Barbatos makes splendid food, which is why I keep him around!” Diavolo winks, nudging Barbatos with his elbow a bit.

“Actually sir, you only keep me around because no other demon has been able to keep up with your antics-”

“ANYWAY, Luke your wings look like they’re growing in nicely, and so do your horns,” Diavolo walks over to examine Luke’s new form. “You’ll probably be in a lot of pain for at least a few more days, but if you want to get situated into your new home we can let you go and just check in on you everyday.”

“Uh… I don’t want to intrude at the House of Lamentation, if it’s going to be any sort of burden to them-”

“Nonsense, my brothers and I are glad to take care of you and take you in, you experienced the same fate as us, albeit for different reasons, but still, we know your pain and we want to guide you so please, Luke, let us help you,” Lucifer places a reassuring hand on Luke’s shoulder as he says this.

“...Okay, BUT no calling me a chihuahua- GOT IT?!” Luke pokes Lucifer’s chest aggressively and earns a hearty chuckle from him.

“I agree not to call you a dog anymore,” Lucifer laughs out, “though I cannot speak for my brothers.”

-

“I can’t believe the chihuahua of all people got kicked out…” Mammon says, still in shock that the angel who had been so determined to make people smile just a year before during the exchange program had somehow managed to get himself thrown out of heaven.

“I remember when I almost didn’t earn my wings in time,” Asmodeus shudders at the memories of being threatened with exile and constantly pushing himself way too hard, “I got so many wrinkles from the stress.”

“Luke makes good food, I’m glad he’s staying with us.” Beel’s mouth was watering as he and Mammon moved a dresser, finally finishing getting Luke’s new room in order.

“Oi, try to be sympathetic when he gets here Beel. He may be a little annoying kid but he’s going through what we went through,” Mammon scolded his younger brother, an uncomfortable silence taking over the room as each and every one of them remembers the pain they were in as their bodies morphed into those of demons.

“God is such an asshole…” Belphegor mutters, getting extremely angry the more he thinks about it.

Luke had done nothing wrong, Lilith had done nothing wrong, so why? Why would he keep getting rid of the most determined of his angels over such insignificant things?

Suddenly all their phones go off with a text from Lucifer saying he and the boy would be arriving soon. They all gathered in the entrance hall, waiting for Luke to arrive. The front door creaked open, all of the brothers standing up straighter and nervous as Lucifer stepped through the entrance with Luke just behind him. 

The brothers all gasped quietly in shock at the state of Luke. He was pale and thin and the look of complete and utter despair in his formerly innocent eyes filling the room with a depressing atmosphere.

“H-hey there Fido- I mean- Luke, how’re you feeling?” Mammon tries to start up a welcoming conversation, getting a nasty look from Lucifer, who Luke was clinging to for dear life.

“Luke! As soon as you’re feeling able to, what do you say we bake something together?” Beel smiles sweetly, most of them getting nothing but nervous looks from Luke in response to their questions.

“I’m just going to help him get settled in. Satan you’re in charge of everything else around the house while I take care of Luke and my own paperwork.” Lucifer guides Luke up the stairs.

Satan rolls his eyes but mutters a small “fine,” before the two head upstairs to the attic, where they’d set up the room to look just like the dorm he stayed in at Purgatory Hall.

“Oh wow, it feels like I’m back in the exchange program,” Luke chuckles a little, clearly faking any sort of joy.

“Luke,” Lucifer kneels down, “you are one of my brothers now, you have nothing to fear, and Simeon will be able to visit at some point-” His attempt to ease Luke’s worries is interrupted by a loud sob.

“Don’t you get it?! Michael and Simeon will never look at me the same, ever again!” Luke wails, using his sleeves to wipe the tears that streamed down his face. “All I ever wanted was to impress them! To impress God and make humans happy and protect them! But now my natural instinct to hurt humans ruins any chance of me becoming the person I’d always thought I’d be!” Luke falls to his knees, sobbing and wheezing, his vision becoming blurry as a panic attack hits him like a truck. He can barely hear anything except for Lucifer calling out a name, and all he could make out was that it wasn’t his own name. A dark figure walks into the room and Luke hears muffled voices for a minute before he is suddenly extremely calm, his eyelids growing a bit heavy and he feels exhausted.

He then realizes someone was holding him and murmuring some sort of spell, causing him to panic once more, but this time he was perfectly aware and just jumped up ready to fight.

“Hey you dirty demon! Don’t use your dark magic on me or else I’ll-”

“Pfft hahaha,” Belphegor laughs hard, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “you still look like a chihuahua when you get annoyed!” Belphie teases and Luke blushes, before running at Belphie and tackling him, leading to a wrestling match on the floor as Lucifer stands by and watches the two of them closely, to ensure nobody got hurt under his watch. 

-

Dinner was the worst, to be honest. Luke had asked Lucifer if he could cook to say thanks for taking him in, but now he sat awkwardly and all of the brothers remained quiet, watching his every move and watching him like he was an injured little puppy.

“I-is the food not good?” Luke questions looking around nervously.

“AH- no its great Fido- LUKE, ah jeez I’m getting a headache this is so hard to adjust to,” Mammon slams his head on the table, earning a glare from Asmo and Satan who he sat between.

“Anyways, I know you’ve been to the Devildom before and don’t really need a tour BUT you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg, there are so many more places to go!” Asmo smiles widely at Luke, “So let’s go together soon, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Ooooh Luke, you have to tell me what Celestial Realm video games are like, GAH I wish we had waited to start a war until after the invention of video games. Anyway I got a new one so I can show you a Devildom game and-”

“Shut yer trap Levi,” Mammon leans over the table to attempt to cover Levi’s mouth.

“But let the GREAT Mammon show ya all the best spots in town~”

“NO-no do not take the child Gambling, Mammon,” Asmo smacks him.

“Asmo for all we know you’re gonna scar him and take him to a strip club,” Belphegor smirks, knowing he just started a war.

“I WOULD NEVER, COME HERE YOU BRAT,” both of them in demon forms chasing each other around the house and screaming.

Suddenly everyone hears a child’s laughter and looks at the blond who had barely even smiled since arriving.

“We can try to do everything you guys want to show me,” Luke smiles. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief seeing that Luke was feeling more comfortable around them. “Um, question though… how do I go in and out of my… demon form?” 

“HAH that’s easy, just relax and let the GREAT Mammon teach ya!”

“Mammon, not yet. Luke, I will teach you, but we need to wait a bit longer or else the pain of transforming will be unbearable for you,” Lucifer looked down at the disappointed boy.

“Oh, ok.”

“Don’t look so gloomy Fid-LUKE JEEZ LOUISE- there's a lot the GREAT Mammon can teach ya in the mean time!” Mammon stands up with a cocky smile, hands on his hips. “Think of me as ya new master and you are my apprentice!”

“NO do not think of him like that he will make you do his dirty work,” Satan says, hitting Mammon in the stomach.

“Thank you,” Luke looks at Lucifer, “thank you for taking me in, I-I know we don’t have the best past and I was super rude towards demons during the exchange program but-but I’m trying to change for you guys! Thank you!” Luke bows his head, tears falling down his cheeks. The knowledge that he can never go back to the way he was bringing on more tears, but they didn’t mind. They’d been through the same process. So silently they all comforted him and welcomed him into their home with  open arms.

[unholyobsessions]

Story of Another Us

Pairing: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

Description: After Julie finds a song Luke wrote about you, he reminisces on his moments with you

A/N: The song Luke wrote is Story of Another Us by 5 Seconds of Summer i highly recommend listening to it

Warnings: Cussing

Word count: 1.7k

Part 2

Julie is a curious person by nature, nobody can deny that. So when Luke gave her his journal and told her to look at all the dog eared songs, she couldn’t stop herself from reading them all. When she got to the last song in the journal she hesitated. It was not dog eared and looked to be the newest written. Most words were crossed out and corrections were written between the margins, she turned the page to find the final version of the song, written coherently. She raised her brows at the wet spots that stained some of the words. She read through it, her own eyes tearing up and threatening to smudge the beautiful lyrics composed by her lead guitarist.

The faint pop Julie has grown to recognize startles her. She meets Luke’s eyes and tries to flip the notebook back to another page but he catches sight of it before she can.

He stays quiet for a second and Julie bites her lip in anticipation.

“What is it that you always say Jules? Boundaries?” The look in his eyes is a mixture of anger, betrayal, and pure sadness, and it breaks Julie’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She doesn’t know what else to say and ultimately decides to risk asking the question that is on the forefront of her mind. “Luke, who is the song about?”

He sighs and takes a sit next to her on the bed, there’s no point in lying to her. “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Julie asks, both confused and surprised.

“Yeah ex-girlfriend I guess. We uh dated back in the 90s,” a sad smile on his face as he spoke. “She was there the night of the concert but she hated hotdogs so she stayed back with Bobby at the Orpheum. I didn’t want to think about her when we first came back but last week I looked her up and I went to see her. She has a family, married, children everything that we talked about having together.” Tears were falling down his face and Julie wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him.

“I-“ she started but what was she supposed to say? Luke shook his head, not finished talking.

“Her youngest son, his name is-“ he pressed a fist against his mouth, biting back a sob. “She named him Luke.” It’s something that took him by surprise when he heard her call his name. For a second he thought she meant him, but then he saw the cute nine-year-old dashing into the room, smiling brightly at his mother.

“Oh.”

“And I am so happy for her but I just, I guess I finally realized just how much I lost that night.” He finally turned his head and made eye contact with Julie.

“Tell me about her,” she said. Luke’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be her response. He regained his composure and nodded his head, thinking back to the moments you shared together.

. . .

You’re sitting on the couch, waiting for the boys to get back to the studio after playing at the pier for change. You actually had school and therefore could not go and watch them but you have the rest of the day off and decided to spend it with your favorite people.

The loud, excited voice of your boyfriend breaks you from your thoughts. He pushes the door of the garage turned studio open and smiles when he spots you. He rushes to the couch and throws himself on top of you. You grunt and try to push him off, which only causes him to hold you tighter.

“Get off me you doofus. You’re sweaty and gross,” you exclaim. He looks at you in mock hurt and you use his surprise to your advantage and push him off the couch. You sit up and wave at the rest of the guys.

Bobby smiles and shakes his head walking forward to ruffle your hair. Alex and Reggie make it seem like they will throw themselves on top of you too and you scream, raising your arms over your head in defense, making everyone laugh. You stick your tongue out at them and look down at your boyfriend still laying on the floor.

“How was your physics test?” He asks, remembering last night’s mental breakdown about you not understanding anything. He always felt useless in those situations, never having taken physics himself after dropping out, so he couldn’t help you study. He normally just holds you close and hopes you stop crying, because regardless of what Alex says, he would never leave you to cry alone.

“Meh, pretty sure I passed but I never know.” You shrug your shoulders dismissing any thoughts of your grades.

Bobby laughs and points an accusatory finger at you, “You always say that and you always end up being the highest score. Don’t give us that ‘meh’ bullshit.”

You throw a pillow at him but he easily catches it and throws it at Reggie, who gets hit in the head. Reggie complains and both you and Bobby chuckle at his inconvenience.

Luke finally gets up from the floor and sits next to you on the couch, pulling your body to lean against his. You’re used to this proximity, realizing early in your relationship that Luke is a very touchy person and has to have physical contact with someone at all times.

You smile and look up to him, asking how the performance at the pier went. He excitedly goes on about how people complemented them and how he knows that they are on their way to becoming big and you can’t help but agree. If there is one thing you know is that Sunset Curve is on their way to greatness.

. . .

“She believed in me, in all of us. Every second of spare time she had, she spent helping us get gigs. She would even sit on that old coach while we practiced and do her homework.”

Julie smiled at the way his eyes lit up. “She sounds amazing. Though I am surprised she was able to concentrate with you guys playing.”

Luke laughs and shakes his head. “She was not. She would yell at us and blame us if she didn’t do well on a test, but we always convinced her to stay when she tried to leave.”

. . .

You tried to block out the loud playing of instruments as you read Lord of the Flies for your english class. You snap the book shut and let out a frustrated sigh standing up abruptly and making your way out the door.

Luke stops singing and slips his guitar off before rushing over to you.

“Hey where are you going?” Luke asks a little breathless, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his body still full of adrenaline.

“I can’t concentrate,” you reply. “I’m pretty sure I have a test on the first four chapters tomorrow.” You look up to find him pouting adorably at you. You roll your eyes and try to leave again but he grabs your arm.

“We’re almost done. Let us just finish this song and then we were all just going to write. Just don’t leave.” His eyes are pleading with you and you know that you won’t decline. You let him lead you back to the couch and you sit down, reopening your book and trying to finish the chapters assigned.

Five minutes later the guys were all milling on different areas of the studio with a pen and an instrument, working on melodies as Luke works on lyrics on the floor in front of you leaning back against your legs. You run your hand absentmindedly through his hair as the other holds up the book.

The pager clipped to your jeans beeps and you glance down at it, your eyes widening when you see the message. You stand up quickly, dropping your book on Luke’s head in the process. You ignore the calls of pain and protest from your boyfriend as you run out of the shed and into the house. You greet Bobby’s mom and walk to the living room where the landline is at. You dial the number quickly and mumble “pick up” repeatedly under your breath. The club owner picks up and you talk for about fifteen minutes. At the end confirming a gig for Sunset Curve every Saturday this month at one of the hottest clubs in LA.

You scream with joy and run back to the studio yelling for their attention.

“Guess who just booked you guys a gig!” You exclaim, a joyous smile on your lips. The boys all jump up from their places around the room and rush to hug you but you raise your hands stopping them in their tracks. “Sunset Curve will be performing every Saturday this March at The Reserve!”

They all freeze, mouths opening in shock before they tackle you in a hug and jumping around in excitement. Luke pulls you close against him and kisses you desperately, trying to convey every emotion he is feeling at the moment. The guys cheer like they always do whenever Luke kisses you in front of them.

They all give you their thanks and a hug before Luke pulls you back to the couch, picking up his lyric journal and placing your hand back in his hair. The room is still buzzing with excitement but your force yourself to concentrate as you pick your book back up and continued reading.

. . .

Luke looks down at his hands, “She was the love of my life, quite literally, and I guess that now in my death I have to learn to live without her.”

Julie let her hand hover over his and if she concentrated hard enough she swears she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “It’s a beautiful song Luke and she sounds like she loved you very much. Just remember that getting over her doesn’t mean forgetting her.”

Luke smiles at his friend, thankful to have met her and have her be a part of his (after)life. He looks down at his journal, eyes skimming over the song. “Do you think,” he pauses. “Do you think it’s good enough to perform?”

Julie stares him like he’s insane. “Anything you write is good enough to perform, especially this song.” Luke turns away, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Thanks Jules.”

[imarvelatthesight]

Spar

A/N: I’m trying to branch out to more Marvel characters :) let me know if I should start adding a fic summary

Summary: Reader fights Thor on Saakar.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Avenger!Reader

Pronouns Used: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Recommended Song: Tia Tamera by Doja Cat ft. Rico Nasty

Word Count: 1,578

Warnings: fighting, one mention of blood, reader has super strength and partial magical abilities, mention of alcohol, swearing, it’s kinda sad in places

   The day you had been brought to Sakaar had been possibly the worst day of your life. And that was truly saying something. Being in a relationship with a god-- never mind the fact that he was also an Avenger-- was a trick in itself. Trying to have a good relationship with his adopted brother? Well, that’s how you ended up in this mess. Get caught snooping around his room once and suddenly you’re on a different planet.

Your clothes were uncomfortably tight and the decorative paint on your face had you dying to itch it. Every week for the past two years you’d suffered this same treatment. Though, the fact that you had survived your rounds in the pit meant you were treated more well-off than others. A nice room, any alcoholic drink you could wish for (but because you were from Earth, more than a couple of sips would have you off your ass in moments). Even with all of your so-called luxuries, you felt empty. Why had no one come to rescue you? Did the Avengers even notice you were gone?

The door opening in front of you interrupted your thoughts. There was no time to think about anything else other than trying to survive. The roar of the crowd above you had your ears nearly ringing. “My champion!” You heard The Grandmaster announce. You burst out into the area, the crowd seemingly getting even louder. Before you had time to revel in the applause, one of the few advantages of your predicament, your eyes settled on your opponent. “Oh shit.”

“Yes!” The god of thunder boomed, excitement covering his face. Silence befell the crowd. Your features softened for a moment, happy to see your lover. You knew, however, you would not be able to express it. If you showed any fondness for each other it would surely compromise your life. “They’re my lover!” He threw his hand in the air, swinging his weapon up with it. “This is great, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you- Loki’s alive. Loki!” 

Your eyes snapped up to the god of mischief. You scowled. You could faintly see him gulp and mouth something. “Thor.” You turned back to him, leaning forward slightly. “If we don’t fight, they’ll kill us both.” 

“Nonsense, come with me and we’ll go-” Thor’s words were cut off by you grabbing him and flinging him away from you. His body slid through the dirt, a pained groan leaving him. The stands erupted with joy at the battle beginning. Thor jumped to his feet, brushing himself off. “Love, this is embarrassing! I told them we’re lovers!”

His words made you hesitate. You didn’t want to hurt Thor. But you couldn’t risk both of you dying. Someone would figure something out. Hopefully. You raised your hand and Thor’s weapon flew out of his grip, finding it’s home in your palm. The mace was in your hand for a fraction of a second before you flung it back at your partner.  Your eyes clamped shut, not wishing to see if it struck him. After a few seconds you opened them and watched as Thor caught the mace and swung it back in your direction. Quickly, you raised your hands in an attempt to catch it again, but the tip of the mace nicked your cheek. You dropped the weapon, your thumb sliding over the wound to collect the blood from it. 

Your feet carried your body with agility as you leapt through the air. Thor threw a swift punch to your abdomen, throwing your frame into the wall where it dented from the force you landed with. Fuck, that hurt. A collective gasp filled the arena. 

The sound of quick footprints coming closer caused you to groan and assume a pleading position with your hand outstretched in front of your face. “Y/N, sweetheart?” You lifted your head, watching as Thor crouched to your level and extended a hand to you. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt you anymore. No one will.” The god of thunder cooed. Timidly, you reached out to him. “There you go, c’mere darling.” He smiled and pulled you into a hug, practically purring.

You melted into the contact. You were home. Anywhere with Thor was home. But part of you couldn’t resist looking up to where The Grandmaster sat. A frown soured his expression, Loki bouncing his leg at the opposite end of the couch. “Shit.” You whispered, though your Asgardian boyfriend didn’t notice as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. The crowd was growing restless. Reluctantly, you pulled out of his hold. You grabbed his biceps, mentally admiring the way the muscle rippled under your touch, and lifted him in the air--using both your strength and your magic to assist-- before slamming him into the ground again. 

Your fists found purchase on his face, tears filling your eyes and a scream tearing through your throat. To the crowd, it was a war cry. To you, a plea of mercy to whatever higher being was listening, and a shriek of forgiveness from Thor. The god laid there, your punches landing blow after blow on his cheeks. Within moments, his body and eyes flowed with electricity, and he returned your action, the lightning launching your body into the air and backwards, where your head made contact with the loose dirt. 

Both astonishment and horror ebbed through you at the sight of Thor, covered in lightning, walking in your direction with purpose. You thought to do the same move you’d tried previously and leap at him. Only this time, he copied your movement and delivered an uppercut to your jaw. The sonic boom that erupted from Thor’s fist had your ears feel as if they were bleeding. Luckily, you’d managed to gather your bearings and land in a three-point stance. As Thor paced toward you, blue flashes decorating his muscles and dancing from his fingertips, he suddenly began to convulse and fell on his side. “Thor!” You cried, falling on your knees beside him. 

Your gaze shot to the large window again. The Grandmaster slid his finger back on a device and Thor stopped twitching. Of course. He couldn’t afford to lose. You stroked your lovers face. His hand covered yours. “My love, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He chuckled. “It was quite a fight you put up. I’m sure Tony would have liked to see.” 

“We’ll tell him when we get back to earth.” You muttered. As Thor went to speak again, he started shaking again, the veins on his face darkening. Mere seconds later, an electric jolt shot through you and your consciousness slipped away.

When you awoke, it was with panic. You recognized the room as the one you’d been forced to stay in for so long now. You groaned and attempted to roll over, being stopped by the weight of another person. Your breath hitched and you tried to move away, only for an arm to be wrapped around you and pulling you closer, a deep sigh escaping the person.

“My love.” Thor rasped out as you flipped over to face him. He playfully rubbed his beard against your jaw. His contentedness left as his hand gently grasped your face, his thumb moving over the scratch on your face. “Oh, Y/N. I wish this had never happened. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to find you.”

You turned your head and placed a kiss on his palm. “A few years is quite a long time.” You agreed.

“Years? You’ve only been gone for a week, dove.” He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Though according to Loki, time does move quite differently here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh, Loki. That fool is the reason I’m here in the first place.” You snuggled into Thor’s chest and he pulled his arms tighter around you like you would disappear. “I want to go home, Thor. I want to listen to Steve complain, and I want to watch TV with Wanda, and I want out of these stupid devices-” You barely noticed the sobs leaving you as you tugged on the technology implanted on your neck.

Thor took your face in his hands. “We will get out of here, sweetheart. I will be sure of it. And Loki will right his wrongs, I swear it.” He kissed you softly. You nodded, silently acknowledging his words. “I love you, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss. “The light of my life.” Another. 

You held back a laugh in favor of burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Stop, you big sap. I love you, Thor Odinson.” You suddenly pulled away with wide eyes. Thor only smiled in confusion. “Valkyrie! She and I get along quite well, she’ll help us. I know it!”

Footsteps from down the hall had Thor scrambling out of the bed, standing politely with his hands folded. You rushed to the door, where Valkyrie nodded in you greeting. “Y/N. It was quite shocking to learn that you are romantically engaged with our lord of thunder here.” She motioned with her hand.

“It’s god of thunder, actually-”

“We must get to training, Y/N. You two can kiss it up later.” She looped her arm through yours. You cast a look over your shoulder at Thor, who gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“So, Val, I must discuss a proposition with you...”

“Does it involve drink?”

“It can.”

“I’m listening.”

[urstruly-ghst]

Hc of (if its ok) where dorm leaders' s/o suddenly runs and hides behind them, they were running away from a person who they accidentally spilled water ? And they are just- really scared maybe crying (idk) ? And how would the boys react to someone trying to hurt their lover ??? Thank you !

fight or flight, i choose flight. also, if someone intimidates you, in any sort of way, that you know is wrong. tell someone who can deal the problem sufficiently. anD huhu sorry this took so long to makeee

riddle rosehearts

You were drinking water on the go, you just got back from a mission that Crowley sent you on and you really wanted a break. Catch a break and probably rest on your now comfortable bed (Crowley finally invested money on you).

But you had a very important meeting with Riddle, and heavens know how scary it is to be late on a meeting with Riddle. So, you really rushed to go into the Mirror that leads to Heartslabyul.

However, accidents happen almost everywhere, chaos can reign even in the most peaceful of places. By that, you accidentally spilled a butt load of water on a Heartslabyul student, sadly, it wasn't the one you were very close with.

It was the same dude who you kind of aggravated by breaking a certain egg on the carbonara. He was scared to approach you at first, after all, you were with a certain ex-delinquent, and how you are a lover of a certain Red Tyrant. But now you're alone.

He cracked open his eyes, moving his fringe to reveal a stare that was terrifying to say the least. But as soon as he focused his vision on your form, his eyes widened with familiarity. He knows you too well.

At first, you tried to apologise, but he chuckled meanly, knowing you're all alone on this one.

The delinquent cracked his fists and smiled meanly to you, no words were spoken, but you can tell the longer you stayed— the beating of you would be brutal.

Tears sprang and soon you screamed, running in a random direction, trying to get away from the student. You were scared, that man looked like he was ready to bring hell.

Luckily for you, someone heard your scream, that someone is your beloved— Riddle. Riddle was absolutely on the edge when you didn't appear. About to scold you actually.

But he heard your scream, he knows your voice! He whipped his head over to the sound, but what happened was too fast.

You slipped behind him, holding his cape, crying and pleading that Riddle has to help you.

Riddle, being Riddle, was mad and instantly put his dorm head status to the test. By test, he stood upright, and his firm face on.

Riddle basically tried to assert dominance over the person, and it worked! The delinquent was no longer fuming, but he did have a scared face, he was about to run away again...

Until... "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" was shouted, and the delinquent struggled as he tripped, collar on his neck.

Said delinquent was forced to do more chores and a 3 page long apology addressed to yoj.

leona kingscholar

You planned a date with Leona, and he (somehow) agreed to it. However, prior to your date, you had a small small errand with Crowley.

It was just get a pale of water from the well, found in the Courtyard, you shrugged off the weird ask, money was bound to be their.

Despite the fact you were careful, you slipped and tumbled, causing you to spill the pale of water to the group of bullies that was just lounging on the courtyard.

That was the beginning of the chase.

For someone who lounges a lot, he was somehow on time on your date. Unlike his usual dates with you, he wanted to spice up and give a nice outdoor date.

Ruggie also bugged him to do it, just so he could avoid chores, but also gave him a good reason to. You might need air and some excitement!

However, you're ten minutes late, which is unusual. You planned the date, you ought to be early! But, something was wrong, he can feel it. He feels it in his gut. You could be in trouble!

Leona knows when you are in trouble, he memorized you already. So, he has theories on what may have happened to you, and all seemed not good outcomes.

And, he was right! As you came rushing into the scenic part of your date, disheveled and crying. A pack of bullies hot on your trail, a mocking smile gracing their lips.

Leona, whose partner was his jewel, was ready to defend and kill. You ran towards him, your heavy breathing from the running somewhat calmed down, as he put you behind him.

He bared his fangs, a growl escaping his throat, as he smugly stood proud and tall. He rose an eyebrow to the bullies, which they cowered in.

Leona banished them from both of your sight, and hugging you tightly, asking if they hurt you and why did they do such things.

He made sure some hyena was going to have a bunch of helpers for the chores!

azul ashengrotto

A bad contract case was common for Azul, he had a lot of experience with such bad mouthed people. He made sure you weren’t going to be affected with such bad people, especially he has such a strong love for you

Now, usually after a few words, they become really compliant, if they are a bad and tough nut to crack, Those were the times he sent in the Leech brothers, they deal with the tough customers.

Azul is always safe, he has contracts, the twins and you! However, that sense of security will tumble once a particular customer was being quite the fuss in the Mostro Lounge   

That sense of security was broken down one day, when you came in, rushing with tears streaming on your sad face. Fear was evident in your eyes.

You ducked behind him, asking for protection that only he can provide, which made him scared as he knows he can't fight physically. Truth be told, he was scared as hell.

You see, you made rounds in Mostro Lounge a lot, usually carrying a drink to help with Azul's survey of customers. You checked on whether the customers are storming in or not. In summary, you analyze and people watch.

But one day, whilst drinking a glass of water, you tripped. A moment after your trio, the glass had been emptied and spilled on a very pissed off customer.

The said customer was mad at Azul, he didn't keep the deal, now he wanted revenge on such. When you tripped and spilled water on the (delinquent) customer, he had burst out laughing and started to threaten and make up ideas on how to hurt you

Thus, a wild chase of chaos ensue, many tried to help you— but you didn't want to involve innocent customers. So, you ran to Azul, knowing he probably has something to fix this.

The twins were gone too, so you were alone on this journey of chaos. Your aching feet ran through the dimly lit part of the lounge to meet Azul's office.

Now, bursting through the door of the office doors of Azul, you had a fear driven adrenaline as you rushed behind Azul.

The Twins were there too, Jade helping Azul sort out the contracts and Floyd listing names of potential bad contracts that won't pay up.

Your arrival was unexpected, and it didn't help how you were crying your eyes out to the trio. You babbled on about the delinquent, but the tears and heavy breathing was not helping you form a sentence that one can comprehend.

The delinquent burst in, and the trio was startled at that, but it made you scream and hold onto Azul tighter. The atmosphere felt tense, and everyone knew that something bad is going to happen.

"Jade, Floyd... You know, he seems familiar. Remember him?? Oh, and it seems he made quite a fuss to my angel fish.."

kalim al-asim

It was another party at Sacrabia, the festivities begin with a joy and rowdy crowds. This was the norm for most parts.

However, a bitter look was on one's face, a certain delinquent student from Savanaclaw. He was bitter as the is party happening, no one knew why. But no one dared to approach, after all... His scars and bruised knuckles were signs.

Now, the festivities were starting to get more and more hyped— lots starting to jump and rejoice in such ways that was so rowdy.

You, Kalim's darling, was just jumping and smiling as the party seems to be growing more. You lost track of Kalim a few minutes, he said he was going to get something special for both of you, so he slipped away from the party.

Drinks were serving like crazy, the party making everyone crave sweet or refreshing foods and drinks. That being said, you were now getting pushed by many and many students, causing your glass of water spilling on someone. The delinquent.

You tried to apologise, grabbing your napkin, but the student grunted and glared at you. Everyone kept partying, but some distanced themselves from you. You gulped and decided to run, abandoning your glass of water and trying to find Kalim or Jamil.

You saw Kalim walk down the stairs, and you pushed through the crowd, crying and pleading to get out of the damned way. Kalim saw you and was confused when you rushed behind him, bawling out your eyes.

He then cried too, feeling bad for your suffering, and crying when he realized a big scary guy as coming! Kalim hugged you and shakily promised that he loves you and will protect you.

Jamil was speeding through the crowd when he saw you running, and ran up to face you and Kalim crying your eyes out. He rose a brow, but then he saw the student. He was glaring accusingly at you.

Jamil sighed and decided to take matters in his own hands.

vil schoenheit

How dare someone make his precious darling cry and hide behind him and Rook? How dare a vile creature made you run and cry?

Now, how did all of this happen? You were enjoying a picnic and then a few moments later you were sobbing and crying for help to save you from a delinquent.

The story was simple, you and Vil were enjoying a nice brunch, when all of a sudden Vil had a call to make. It was odd, as usually the calls don't come at his brunch. Vil ignored it, but the persistent calls made him answer. He sighed, asking for forgiveness that an interruption had to be made.

He was gone for a few minutes, a lot of things were going on and it seemed to irritate Vil.

Apparently, the call was an impromptu meeting, and needed Vil's presence ASAP. It was a modelling shoot not too far, where Vil is needed to replace a sick model. And Vil was also the only one near enough, so they really needed Vil's presence.

You told him to go, which was a very hard time, but he allowed to leave you and pack up. He instructed you to not do anything rash while he was gone. Now, while you bid farewell to Vil, a man came up to you.

Delinquent by the looks of it, he had shaggy hair, preposterous clothing choices and a smirk that felt violating.

You tried to send him off, but he kept on persisting on taking you out. As if he wasn't smart enough to know you belonged to a certain blonde Pomefiore dorm leader.

It bugged you off that you threw a glass of water and ran to the Pomefiore dorm, crying as he threaten to kill you on the spot. Rook heard and saw this, and swooped in to rescue you!

Vil also arrived albeit late, but he saw you run up to him, crying and pleading the delinquent to go away.

"Rook, what is this lousy potato doing here? Oh? Hurting my potato, hm?"

"That won't do.. not at all. I'll leave the work to you, Rook. Do tell me what they have to say about this event."

After giving the troublemaker to Rook's hands, he led the way to the dorm; where he leads you to his room to do a makeover and spa day.

Its self care day!

idia shroud

He shouldn't have gone to the outside! Everything bad seems to happen when he steps out of his room!! Idia would not go out on many occasions, but you were a special case. A very special case.

Yet, he didn’t expect for you to cry behind him, with a big delinquent closing in on you with a very bad grin on their face. He trembled at the thought of having to face a bully! 

You guys were supposed to be on a date by now, why of all days where you get in trouble its this!

How did it even come to this? Well, it was simple. You spilled a buttload of water on the delinquent when doing your weird Crowley assigned. He said to water a few bushes and clean some parts of the school. 

You cleaned furiously, scrubbing the dirty moss walls, spraying a bunch of water with the help of Grim and a few ghosts.

The problem? A delinquent bad boy hangs out in a place where water was bound to be splashed, and then an angry chase began.

Idia tried to think of so many video game or anime moves that could intimidate the fast running delinquent. It was amusing, his constant mumbling and the constant sweat made things funnier. Tough, you need to run or distract him so you can avoid getting punched or become a bloody pulp.

"If I use the "LIGHT BEAM LASER" or the “SWEET DEATH!” it could work.. Oh but those muscles look like he has a lot of AP”

The sweet Ortho was also looking for you, he had a s=nice and sweet pep when you started to persuade his big brother more, this calls for a celebration! 

While looking for both of you, he saw the delinquent running towards the area he saw you earlier. The worry bubbled inside Ortho, so he followed and he grew angry at the man who seemed to have every intention to hurt you!

Preparing a light beam, Ortho shouted “Stay away from Onii-chan!”, then a large beam hit the bully, 

malleus draconia

Malleus was strolling around the area of your dorm, just to visit you and update on his life, and new found treasure places you and him can visit, he made mental notes along the way. Whilst strolling, he saw you and when your eyes met, you ran and cried behind him.

Rage bubbled within the young prince, he always had taken good care of you-- making sure you can be comfortable with him, to see you crying and hiding cowering in fear behind him makes him feel of great sorrow and joy.

His rage took over again when he saw a large bully, clearly scowling at you, and Malleus couldn’t hide his rage. He had risen his green flames, with a frown on his face-- clearly upset at the bully.

Before Malleus can burn the bully, you stopped him, pleading him to spare him and that it wasn’t the bully’s fault. You spilled a water bottle on said bully, while rushing to see Grim and his troublemaking friends.

That explanation didn’t help, it spurred him even more to burn the ground and make sure the bully suffers in a bad way-- just for making you cry and making you uncomfortable. That itself was a punishable crime!

In the end, your crying didn’t stop Malleus to at least leave some burns on said bully. 

‘It was only necessary to burn him, leaving a few burns, a few reminders that you are way more important than him. And you value so much to me.” 

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//fatherhood headcannons//

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / Bokuto Koutarou / Daishou Suguru

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 1.7K (~550 a piece)

Notes: don’t come for me and my self-indulgence. Also >:C if you’re of age and living in the United States, go fucking vote.  i am not asking. 

Kuroo Tetsurou

He goes into this whole fatherhood thing with complete and utter confidence.  Kuroo Tetsurou is convinced that he doesn’t need to have a single parenting book.  How hard can it be?

It’s all just making sure his kid doesn’t die, right? R I G H T?

He tries really hard to understand all of your discomforts during the pregnancy, but wowowow he’s bad at it.  You were complaining that your feet were sore and he just looked at you weird.  You had just gotten out of bed?  How did your feet already hurt?  Your back hurts? How? You’re laying down?

He recognizes that you’re in discomfort and he, of course, doesn’t look past that.  He’s going to do whatever he needs to do to ensure your comfort, but he just struggles to comprehend it.

I promise that Kuroo was so calm and cool and collected throughout the entire pregnancy and honestly, even during delivery, he was there to tell you how great you were doing, holding your hand, letting you crush his fingers in your tight grip.  He would pat your head and occasionally give you little kisses on your temple.

But when the nurse asks if he wants to hold his new little girl and places her in his arms, oh he’s crying.  He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels the tears stream down his cheeks.

It was in the following weeks that he realized just how hard this whole parenting thing would be.  Sleep?  Kuroo didn’t know her.  The baby religiously started crying every night at 2:27 a.m. and it would take nearly an hour to get her to fall back asleep.  By the time that hour passed, he was already back to being wide awake and would just lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep for hours.  

The first time he ever had to change a diaper, he had to pull up a YouTube video to figure it out, but he’s not about to tell you that.  

He has no idea how to dad, but Kuroo ends up being a really incredible father.  While he may be lacking in the basic skills like knowing the correct formula temperature or how to properly hold his daughter, he makes up for it with his constant companionship.  

You’ve walked in on him in the nursery so many times.  He’s really not even doing anything.  He’s just leaning against the crib, running his fingers across his little girl’s skin, still not believing that this is real and that that little baby is his, something that he helped create.  Oh, it just makes him so soft to think about.   He talks real quietly to her, telling her about his day, like she has any idea what he’s saying, but he still smiles so wide when she looks at him.

His little girl is his entire world and I just know that he’s an incredibly protective father.  He knows that the world is a scary place and he wants his daughter to be able to grow up having the best life possible, even if it is difficult.

Bokuto Koutarou

It was an accident.  It was 100% an accident.  But, the absolute joy that lit up his features when you told him your happy news, well, you don’t think you had ever seen him smile so wide.  He had picked you up to spin you around and covered your face in kisses.  Bokuto had set you down and immediately squatted down to place a kiss on your non-existent baby bump, telling his little baby how excited he was to be their papa.

Bokuto does prepare, well, at least a little. He owns one book, but he has read it cover to cover.  When he was reading through it, he would stop at something that he found particularly interesting and show it to you.

He didn’t really know how best to take care of you, but he tried his best!  He would rub your shoulders or feet when you asked.  He would make dinner after practice.  He is absolutely running to the store in the middle of the night because you had a sudden craving for Cheetos and vanilla ice cream.  Bokuto thought it was best not to ask what the hell you were doing when you proceeded to dip the Cheetos in the ice cream.

Bokuto forces you on walks.  He read in that one pregnancy book that walks can help induce labor, so in the time leading up to the due date, Bokuto was taking you on strolls around the block multiple times a day.  

But, he gets really busy with MSBY ;-; like. . . a lot.  He wants to be there every step of the way, but he just can’t.  Even after the baby was born, it seemed like there was rarely a day off for him to just spend with you and the baby.

Nothing hurt more than seeing the video of his little boy taking his first steps, knowing that he wasn’t even there to see it for himself because he was stuck on a bus in another city for a game.

This boy B R A G S about his kid all the time.  Sakusa might just beat his ass if he has to hear Bokuto coo about his son one more time.  

Games that happen at home are Bokuto’s favorites because he knows that whenever he looks up into the stands, you’ll be there, the baby in your arms, a tiny black knit hat with gold detailing pulled over his head.  It always made his heart so warm and he seemed to always be on top of his game just so he could secure a win quicker.  He just wanted to rush to you and cradle his little one in his arms.

He likes to toss his little bean up into the air, but he has absolutely bonked his son’s head on the ceiling and then proceeded to fail to catch him because he was so in shock that he just hit his son’s head on the ceiling.  Insert one (1) bokuto koutarou suddenly regretting every life decision that he has ever made.  

Surprisingly, he’s a really good parent?  He understands the balance between being caring and supportive, but also having a firm hand on discipline.  He isn’t much for punishments, because he’s going to feel bad, but he won’t hesitate to sit his son down and have a talk if he needs to.  

God Bokuto is such a good dad please i’m so soft i just know that he would sob his eyes out the minute the baby is on its way

Daishou Suguru

please i don’t even want children, but i would make an exception for daishou suguru

Suguru is so?? stupidly?? prepared?? 

Like the two of you decided that you wanted to have a baby and this man went to the bookstore and asked one of the workers which pregnancy books were the best.  The poor high school student had no idea

He took notes and was just constantly studying up on things.  You’d think he was back in university again with how much he poured himself over these books.  

While Daishou may have all of the technical stuff down like knowing the exact female reproductive anatomy and how it all works to produce the baby and he can definitely change a diaper with his eyes closed by now, but-

When the time came to put together a nursery- oh the boy was lost.  He had no idea what to do.  He’d never built a crib before.  He wasn’t really sure why he was expecting it to just unfold or magically form together when he took it out of the box, but now he was just sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of a baby crib, pouring over the instructions, only to get more confused.

Please go sit with him in his time of need.  He’ll rest his head on your shoulder and rub tiny circles over your bump.  

Suguru probably jumped a foot in the air when he felt that itty bitty kick against his hand.  It took him by complete surprise and his eyes were as wide as saucers, but this really slow smile took over his face and you don’t think you had ever seen him so happy, a complete smiling and laughing mess.

He takes the best care of you b y e 

Morning sickness?  He’s right there to pull your hair away from your face and get you a glass of water.  

Too bad he spent all this time looking up information on the actual pregnancy and had no idea what to expect for actual childbirth.  Overnight bag?  He said, “How long does this take?”  He had no idea what to do during delivery.  His dumbass just stood there until you demanded that he give you his hand and definitely screamed when you nearly crushed his bones in an absolute death grip, nails digging painfully into the back of his hand, but who was he to object.  He wasn’t the one pushing a child out of his body.

Oh, did I say child?  Try children.  Suguru nearly fainted when the nurse said that there was “one more.”  He didn’t remember seeing a second little peanut on the ultrasound, but maybe he just forgot in the overwhelming panic of the moment?

He was so good all throughout the pregnancy, but the minute the kids are born?  It’s like he completely forgot everything that he read over the past nine months, but the softness in his eyes and the gentle smile on his lips the very first time he got to hold his kid?  It made it all worth it.  He didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so quickly, but he looked at the faces of his newborn children and he couldn’t have been happier.

Daishou has fallen asleep in the nursery chair more than once when he was up with the babies.  You’d get up to see what was taking so long, only to find him leaned back, his head lolled to the side, two tiny bundles held securely to his chest.

In conclusion.  I love daishou suguru and he would be a really good dad once he figured it all out

{Taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @celosiiaa​ @kuronekomama​ @lovinnoya​ and @nekxrizawa​ @boosyboo9206​ bc you both got me thinking about them as d a d s and now i can’t get it out of my head onyx please take this as a bribe to receive the daishou suguru hip dermal edit you made i need it}

[2dmenenthusiast]

Grounded - Levi Ackerman x Reader

I had this whole thing typed out but it all got deleted cuz im an idiot so all I’ll say is that writing for Levi is hella difficicult, I hate the ending, and I hope you all enjoy. also yes there is a line from TWD in here but it fit so perfectly and it was too good to pass up okay? and I gave Hange they/them pronouns btw

(also one of my favorite fanfic writers @phen0l​ followed me and uhh I just wanna say that I’m honored?? They write amazing Levi fics and fics for other fandoms, so make sure to go check them out)

Summary: The Scouts are getting ready for the 57th expedition outside the walls, and you can’t help but let Levi know how worried you feel about the possible outcome of the mission

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings/other info: swearing, angst, death, spoilers for AOT season 1, reader has possible anxiety, reader is kept gender nuetral

No matter how many times you face them, no matter how many times you find yourself suspended in mid-air right over their gaping mouths, ready to swallow you whole, you will always have nightmares about that one fateful day in Shiganshina. The day the Colossal Titan kicked in Wall Maria and let his friends feast on the people in your district. Your friends, family, all destined to be one thing at that moment. Titan fodder. You still wonder how you made it out sometimes. How through all the commotion, a titan didn’t target you and scoop you into its mouth, effectively sealing your fate just like everyone around you. You chalked it up to luck at first before telling yourself that was bullshit. Luck didn’t have anything to do with it. Shit just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it besides roll with the punches and try your best to survive.

The sight of your sister and father being eaten by those beasts was permanently engraved behind your eyelids, seeing flashes of their thrashing, screaming bodies whenever you close your eyes to go to sleep. In those moments, you always wondered why you survived rather than them. Your sister… she was the sweetest little thing, lighting up a room whenever she smiled and constantly greeting you at the door with a hug whenever you came back from shopping in town. You swore her laugh was all you needed to take you right out of a bad mood, reminding you that things weren’t so bad if you had someone so full of joy in your life. And your father, while he was stubborn, he made sure to take care of his family the best he could, and you were forever grateful for that. He raised you to be strong and rely on yourself because in the end, the only person you truly had on your side was you.

No one really knew about your past. Well, besides your superiors who needed to know, but other than them, your fellow cadets knew the bare minimum about your private life. Although, when they found out you were from Shiganshina, they all just automatically assumed you suffered a great loss of some kind, whether it be your family or your home. In your case, it was both. Of course, you were close with some of the other soldiers. Eld and Petra were people you considered to be good friends with, along with the rest of your captain’s squad. Though, that didn’t stop you from wanting to deck Oluo in the face whenever he got too cocky, throwing his arm around your shoulders during lunch before immediately removing it when you would elbow him in the ribs.

“Jeez, Oluo. You think you’d learn by now. What is this, the fifth, sixth time?” Petra asked, pushing a stray hand of hair behind her ear.

“Seventh,” you chimed as you brought a spoonful of soup up to your mouth.

“Aw, you’ve been keeping count. That must mean you actually like me.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked over at him, placing the spoon back in your bowl before licking the remaining soup off of your lips. “You know this food is still steaming. Don’t make me throw it at your old ass face.”

He let out a noise of protest while the rest of the table laughed, and you snickered to yourself before shifting your gaze to meet Levi’s, his steely eyes almost piercing through you before he looked down into his cup and tuned back into the conversation his commander and squad leader Hange were having, watching as the dark liquid swirled around.

You always knew Levi to be a man of few words, but a strong sense of purpose. He wasn’t one to waste time on trivial things, always wanting to get straight to the point. He didn’t seem to be the type to waste time on feelings either, but you guessed it wasn’t any of your business. You knew he felt things. Experienced emotions and all that. You’d be stupid to think he didn’t. During training, when he’d survey your group to see how things were going, there would always be gossip when he left, your peers saying how he was cold and emotionless, but you disagreed. You had already heard the rumors of the captain being some type of underground gangster at that point, so when you really thought about it, it wasn’t unusual or weird for him to act the way he did. Something, someone, had made him that way, and that was okay. Something had affected all of you too. The world you all lived in didn’t have the time to spare you from grief or trauma.

“Cadet l/n.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden mention of your name, lifting your head to see your captain entering the mess hall with a signature cup of tea in his hand, and you gave him a lazy smile before looking back down at your own cup, the liquid having gone cold over the time you had been sitting there. Levi didn’t reprimand you for not saluting him, just silently walked over and occupied the seat across from you, looking at you with that stern gaze of his.

“You should be asleep. I won’t make training any easier for you tomorrow just because you’re tired.”

“This isn’t unusual for me, captain. Just needed something else to look at that wasn’t my bedroom wall,” you said, your voice quiet.

He slightly tilted his head as he studied you, lifting his hand to gesture around the room. “And you thought an empty mess hall would be better?”

You let out a scoff, meeting his eyes for a moment before sipping at your drink and immediately grimacing at the taste of it. “It’s better than the alternative. For now, at least.”

He didn’t respond at first, simply staring off into the distance as he let your words sink in before setting down his cup with a soft ‘clink.’ You thought that maybe if you weren’t so over everything at the moment, you wouldn’t be acting so casual with your superior, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Hopefully this wouldn’t bite you in the ass later

“You’re not the first one here to experience nightmares, you know.”

“Oh, so you have this talk with all of the cadets in the middle of the night?”

“No,” he answered simply, taking another sip of his drink.

You didn’t know why, but that simple interaction had been the best one you had with another person in months. Sure, you loved the company of your friends, but talking to Levi was just so… different. Almost liberating in a way. There were things you had told him that you never told anyone else during your late-night meetings, and it got to the point where you had found yourself looking forward to talking with him. Because you knew that behind his gaze was a man that felt so much, and you knew what that was like.

“You know… I only really made it out because they were too busy eating my family.”

Levi paused at that, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked at you over his cup that was pressed to his lips. He didn’t speak at first, taking his time as he leisurely drank his tea, and you could practically feel the depth of the silence looming over the both of you like it was its own presence.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” you thought, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you anxiously waited for Levi’s response.

You didn’t want him to pity you. That was never your intention. You guessed you just.... wanted someone to know what you were thinking and feeling, tired of constantly keeping it to yourself. If you got eaten by a titan one day, you’d at least want someone to know who you were. Who you really were.

“Sorry, I um…” you looked around at everything besides the man sitting in front of you, trying to find a way to fill the silence. “You probably don’t wanna hear some sob story from some cadet, I-”

“‘Some cadet?’”

Your eyes snapped over to his, mouth slightly agape before swallowing thickly. “I… Well I mean-”

“Talking like that about yourself isn’t going to change anything or make anything better. You’re not just some cadet, and I’m even willing to say that you’re not as bad as some of the shit-for-brains we have here. You came here to do the same thing everyone else is here to do. Fight for humanity. Whether your end goal is selfish or to try and relieve yourself of some guilt from the past, it doesn’t matter.” He leaned closer to you, elbows placed on the table as he pinned you with his gaze. “Every life sacrificed out there matters. So does yours, even if you don’t think it does. And it’s our job to make sure those soldiers don’t die in vain. 

You didn’t know what to say. No one had ever really talked to you like this, so how could you know how to respond? Luckily, he started speaking again so that you didn’t have to.

“Your family…  it’s a shame what happened to them. What you had to go through. But, their deaths will be avenged, and I will make damn sure of it.”

That night was the first time you cried in probably months. You thought Levi would think of you as some pathetic little soldier, trying to gain the sympathy of their captain, but he didn’t. He just placed a hand over yours and let you cry, and you remembered how you were sort of surprised by how warm he was. You remember that talk like it was only yesterday when in reality it was years ago. You and Levi didn’t talk as much as you used to, considering the fact that he was constantly busy with helping the titan shifter cadet, Eren Jaeger, and you had been recruited to squad leader, so you had your own people to deal with. But that didn’t mean you two never spoke. Whenever your paths crossed, you’d make sure to give him a little greeting, whether it was a simple wave or a “hello.” And occasionally, when you couldn’t sleep and you’d come down to the mess hall, he was there, a steaming cup of tea in front of him, and you’d talk for a few hours until you both agreed it was time to try and catch some sleep.

Now, the soldiers were getting ready for the 57th expedition, and you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling you got whenever you thought about it. Of course, every expedition was dangerous. More often than not, the scouts would come back from outside the walls with more than a few dead, and on bad days, their numbers would be cut in half. Eren was making progress, and you hoped he would be useful, but a part of you was still doubtful.

“I’m worried,” you stated, arms crossed over your chest as you stood next to Levi, watching the cadets train vigorously.

“You always worry.”

You glanced over at the man and huffed, seeing him completely focused on the soldiers before you lightly kicked your boot into the dirt. “I guess that’s kinda my thing, isn’t it? Can you blame me though? We’ve seen what Eren can do, but… he hardly has it under control. And this isn’t exactly a normal expedition.”

“Things will turn out the way they turn out. There’s nothing we can do except make sure things go the best way they can.”

You sighed. Levi was able to reassure you most of the time, but other times he did nothing to calm your nerves. It wasn’t his job to, though. His responses were straightforward, and if you didn’t like it then that was just something you had to deal with.

“Ever the optimist, Levi,” you said, a sarcastic lilt to your voice, and you smiled when he glanced at you before shaking his head.

“Hey! You’re not here to slack off. Pick up the pace before I make you all train through dinner.”

You were used to Levi giving out orders. Hell, he gave them to you all the time, but his commanding voice sent shivers down your spine at that moment.

“He’s a freaking tiny tyrant, I swear,” you heard one of the cadets mutter, and you couldn’t help but snicker as you turned your head away from your captain, covering your mouth to conceal your smile.

“Find something funny?”

You cleared your throat as you shook your head, turning to Levi with a grin and shrugging your shoulders. “Not at all, captain. Just have a little cough is all.”

“Mhm. Maybe I should make you run it off then.”

“Aw c’mon, Levi. Have a little laugh. We all need one once in a while, especially considering the day you’re all going to have tomorrow.”

He just let out a hum, and your smile slowly dropped as you looked out at the horizon, the sky painted in beautiful strokes of orange and pink. Yes, you were right, you all needed those small moments of joy in this fucked up world you lived in, but you weren’t stupid enough to believe that those moments could last forever. Sometimes you just had to face the reality of the situation you were all in, and you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled you as you thought about tomorrow.

“You’re overthinking. Stop it,” Levi said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head and gave him a smile that felt bittersweet. “I can’t help it sometimes. I wish I could go with you.”

“We have enough force and skill in the recruits we have for the expedition. It would be a waste to put you and your squad into it and leave you hanging with no real job to do.”

“No real job? We’d be doing what everyone else would be; killing titans and keeping Eren safe! How would we not be useful? You know for a fact that my squad and I are plenty skilled and-”

“We can’t risk more sacrifices by putting you out there. We have enough people to hopefully accomplish what we need to.”

“Then why wasn’t my squad a first choice to go beyond the walls this time? We’re more capable than most of the people here and you know it. Maybe if I talk to Erwin he’ll-”

“This wasn’t just Erwin’s decision, it was mine. And your insubordination is starting to get irritating, so I suggest you take a walk.”

You looked at Levi with widened eyes, disbelief clear on your face, and you swallowed down what you actually wanted to say before letting out a deep breath.

“Levi, I-”

“Take a walk, l/n. I don’t wanna hear about it.”

You simply blinked at him a few times, clearly upset by the way he addressed you, before letting out a scoff and walking away, your jaw and fists clenched tightly. Yes, maybe you were being a bit childish, but you refused to acknowledge that when you felt so pissed at the moment.

“I mean, how can he just treat me like that?! Just completely dismiss me and not even give me a reasonable answer! He’s so… He’s just so… Ugh!”

You groaned and rested your head in your hands as you sat across from Hange, your friend looking at you with raised brows as they idly tapped their fingers against the table.

“I mean, he is your superior, y/n.”

“But that’s not the point! Like, yeah okay, I know he’s my captain and all that, but… We’ve always just been casual with each other. We’ve never seen each other as our ranks. I still respect him and follow his orders when he gives them but…” You let out a noise of frustration and slammed your fists down on the table. “That doesn’t give him the right to just pull out the superiority card whenever it benefits him!”

Hange blinked a few times before letting out a sigh, brushing a piece of stray hair out of their face as they leaned back in their chair, shrugging their shoulders. “I mean, he said it was also his decision, right? So maybe… he’s trying to keep you safe?”

Your eyes widened almost comically, feeling heat travel up the back of your neck at the mention of the possibility that Levi was concerned about your safety. “I-I… I mean he- um.”

“Oh my, are you getting flustered, y/n? Does the thought of Levi caring about you make your heart race?” Hange asked, a playful smirk on their face.

“Stop! For the love of everything, please stop,” you whined, waving your hands in front of you as you tried to ignore how embarrassed you felt. 

Hange just laughed at you, continuing to poke fun until you threatened to not be a part of their crazy experiments anymore, to which they quickly backed off. You thought talking with Hange might make you feel better, but hours later when you were pacing in front of the door to Levi’s office, you still wanted to rip your hair out as you thought of what to say to him. Letting out a huff and straightening your posture, trying to gain some nerve, you raised your hand to knock on the door, only for it to suddenly open and reveal your captain, his cravat having come off and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Your incessant pacing is driving me up the wall. What do you want?”

Oh, so he had heard you. You avoided eye-contact, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of your neck before clearing your throat to try and relieve some of the awkwardness you felt.

“Um… can I come in?”

You both stood there for a moment, Levi’s gaze traveling up and down your body before stepping aside to let you in, and you gave him a small, appreciative nod as you walked inside his office. The tension in your shoulders was almost painful, your whole body almost stiff as Levi walked in front of you to sit on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was only Levi, a man you had come to know for years. And while you didn’t know everything about him, you still considered you both to be somewhat close. So why were you feeling so weird right now?

“Uh… I wanted to talk about this afternoon,” you said, mindlessly fidgeting with your fingers.

Levi raised a curious brow, letting you linger in silence for a moment before letting out a soft hum. “Not sure it’s something worth talking about.”

Lips curving into a small frown, you mimicked his posture and crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one foot. “Well, I think we left some things… unaddressed back there, and I wanna talk about it.”

He didn’t say anything, and you were starting to get pissed, your fuse short enough as it is. Your frustration finally hit its peak when he grabbed the cup of tea next to him and wordlessly took a sip, and you swore at that moment you wanted to take the cup and smash it against his head.

“Goddammit, would you stop drinking your stupid fucking tea and listen to me?!” you yelled, and you could see a flash of shock in his eyes at your outburst before he glared at you, setting his cup down.

“You wanna repeat that?”

“Oh, don’t get all fucking ‘Captain Levi’ on me. You know exactly what all of this is about. You didn’t even try to give me a reasonable explanation earlier, and I feel like I deserve one.”

“Do you? You think you deserve something for acting like this?”

“I’m not a child!”

“But I am your superior, which you seem to forget quite a lot.”

“That is such bullshit! Since when have you given two fucks about ranks when it comes to us? I follow your orders when I have to, not when you use your superiority when it’s most convenient for you.” 

Levi clicked his tongue as he got off of his desk, rounding it to sit in his chair, and your fists were clenched so tightly it was becoming almost painful, your nails digging into your palms.

“You know, you say you’re not a child, yet you constantly act like one. Throwing a fit when you don’t get your way. Sometimes I wonder why Erwin made the decision to promote you.”

Your eyes widened as you softly gasped, questioning if you heard Levi correctly, but you know you did. There was no mistaking it. You always believed that Levi knew that you were capable, that you could protect yourself. But now he made you question if he really thought those things. Did he even respect you as a soldier? After countless nights of spilling your guts to him and him reassuring you… did he think of you as just some simple-minded cadet? You felt like your heart was in your throat and tears were threatening to spill, but you just swallowed everything down and turned your head away.

“Good luck on the expedition tomorrow,” you muttered, and you were quick to leave his office and rush back to your room, tears spilling down your cheeks.

______________

When it came time for your fellow scouts to leave for the expedition in the morning, you were a bit reluctant to watch them, knowing that you’d end up automatically spotting Levi in the crowd, and the petty side of you wanted to ignore him at all costs. However, the rational side of you remembered that it wasn’t just Levi going out there, it was other soldiers as well, most of them you knew personally, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give them a proper send-off, knowing the likelihood of some of them not making it back. So, you dragged yourself out of bed and made yourself presentable, slipping on your jacket as you stepped out of your room.

“Y/n!”

You turned at the shout of your name, seeing Hange waving excitedly at you as they jogged down the hall, slowing down to walk with you.

“So? How did it go with Captain Shorty?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, bringing your fingers up to rub at your temples to try and cease the headache you already felt coming. “I don’t even wanna talk about it.”

“Dang, that bad, huh?” Hange grimaced.

“You have no idea. I just wanna forget about it”

Hange didn’t say anything more on the topic after that, simply talking about random things with you as you walked outside to the stables. You had a bad feeling settled in your stomach ever since you woke up, but as more time passed it just got worse.

“Hange,” you muttered, the squad leader turning towards you with raised eyebrows as they held the reins to their horse.

“Uh… Please be careful out there, okay?”

Hange looked shocked for a moment before their mouth split into a wide grin, and they quickly pulled you into a tight hug, which you immediately reciprocated.

“Aw, y/n! Don’t worry about me, I’m always careful!”

“That is such a lie, but I’ll believe you anyway,” you chuckled.

Pulling away from each other, Hange mounted their horse and joined the rest of the scouts at the gate, and you went to stand at the sidelines with the rest of your peers to watch them. Your eyes immediately caught sight of a head of familiar black hair, and you felt your heart grow heavy and your chest tighten, almost wishing he would feel your gaze and look over at you. But he didn’t and with Erwin’s war-cry, they charged through the open gate, the horses kicking up dirt and dust, and you only got a glance at their retreating figures before the gate was closed again.

______________

Every minute that ticked by felt like hours. You didn’t know how long they would be gone, the time usually spent outside the walls ranging from a few hours to a few days. You hoped it was the former, knowing that the longer they were out there, the more likely they were to get killed. You knew your comrades were skilled, having been outside the walls with them and seen their skills up close, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Now with the Eren being a titan shifter and a traitor in your midst, anything could happen.

You almost didn’t acknowledge the shouting of your fellow soldiers that afternoon, too focused on taking care of some of the horses in the stables. But when you finally heard it, you quickly stopped what you were doing and ran to the gate. They were back. Adrenaline coursed through you as your heart pounded like a drum against your chest, and when you finally caught sight of the returning scouts, you immediately stopped in your tracks. The look on their faces was one of defeat, and you could already tell just by looking at them that not all of them made it back. When you spotted Hange, you felt some relief wash over you and you quickly made your way over to them, walking beside their horse.

“Hange, what happened? Was the mission successful?”

Hange didn’t answer, a blank look on their face, which was identical to the expressions on all of the other soldier’s faces. It was a bad day, that much you could tell, and you made brief eye-contact with Levi before looking for your friends. Only… you couldn’t see them. Turning around frantically, you spotted Eren laying in a cart and ran over, jumping in beside him as you glanced at his hand clutching Mikasa’s. He looked even worse than everyone else did. No, loss was never easy, but Eren was just a kid, and experiencing so much of it at his age must have been devastating for him, especially when he was so passionate about saving humanity.

“Eren, tell me what happened. Who… Who did we lose?” you asked.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to know the answer, seeing Eren so broken and torn up already told you that what happened out there wasn’t good, but when was it ever? The boy had tears falling down his cheeks, trying to keep his sobs quiet, and Mikasa just looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think right now’s a good time-”

“Please!” You gripped the cape that was laid over top of Eren, eyes focussed on the blue and white wings embroidered on the back and you sniffled as you tried to hold back the tears that were desperately trying to come out. “I… I need to know. Please, Eren…”

He stared at you with wide eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before letting out a shuddered breath. “They… We were after the female titan and she… I couldn’t save them, y/n. They died protecting me!”

Your face seemed void of any emotion as Eren’s words sunk in, piercing your heart like a million knives, and all you did was nod silently before jumping out of the cart, your mind going on autopilot as you walked. You didn’t need him to explain who he was talking about for you to already put the pieces together. Levi had told you that Eren was going to be a part of his squad so that he could keep an eye on him, and his squad was in charge of protecting him. He had become humanity’s number one asset after all. Civilians were shouting at all of you, cursing at you and hurling insults at your face. You weren’t even one of the scouts on the expedition, but that didn’t matter. As long as you wore the wings of freedom on your back, you were a bastard like the rest of them. No more, no less.

You had stumbled too close to the crowd, too preoccupied with your thoughts to even notice, until a large man gripped your shoulders and pushed you in front of the horses, your body landing harshly in the dirt as some of the people laughed at you. You heard someone shout your name, but it sounded distant to you, everyone’s drowned out underneath the roaring of your thoughts. You shifted yourself onto your hands and knees, only to look up and see Hange crouched down in front of you, a concerned expression on their face.

“Y/n, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

There was a ringing in your ears as you looked at them, trying desperately to just get a grip.

The dirt under my hands, the dryness in my mouth, the shouts of the citizens, the musty smell of the horses… Hange right in front of me.

“I’m fine. I… I’m fine.”

The single tear slipping down your cheek went unnoticed by you, but it was one of the things that let Hange know that you were lying. That you weren’t fine. Reaching out to wipe the tear away Hange shook their head.

“Y/n-”

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Giving Hange a tight-lipped smile, you picked yourself up off the ground and made your way back to the Scout’s headquarters, feeling everyone’s eyes on your back, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Levi was watching you too.

______________

You didn’t keep track of how long you cried that day, keeping yourself locked in your room and sobbing until your body physically couldn’t produce any more tears. The last time you cried this much was when your family died, same thing could be said when you thought about the last time you felt this way. Like all hope was lost. You found yourself questioning what the point of all of this was for a moment before you quickly slapped yourself out of that thought. You knew why you had to do this, why the Survey Corps was important. But shit, all this loss? You didn’t know how much more you could take. Especially if days like today became more frequent.

Then you got to thinking about Levi and the stupid argument you had yesterday. At the time, you felt like your feelings were justified, and maybe they were, but now you felt like a complete idiot for arguing with him, especially the day before an expedition where it was one hundred percent possible that he could’ve died out there. The thought of your last interaction being some petty argument made more tears fall, and you gripped the sheets of your bed so tightly that you thought they might rip. Did he even want to speak to you now? Maybe he realized that you were just some immature little soldier and wanted nothing to do with you.

No, you couldn’t accept that. You wouldn’t. Standing from your bed, you harshly wiped at your eyes and sniffled, trying to look like you weren’t crying for hours on end - even though it was pointless, you knew Levi would be able to tell immediately - and exited your room to start making your way to Levi’s office. Your nerves were kicked into high gear, but you refused to let this man intimidate you. You were going to let him know how you felt and he was going to listen. Of course, your confidence immediately deflated when you found yourself standing in front of his door, but you swallowed down your nerves and knocked, taking a deep breath.

Levi’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, telling you to come in, and you let out a small huff as you gripped the doorknob and let yourself in. He didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of him when you walked in, and as the door closed behind you and you moved to stand in front of his desk with your hands held behind your back, you lightly cleared your throat to get his attention. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you could feel yourself shrink under his gaze. There was no doubt he saw what happened earlier today when they came back, and from the way he was examining you, you knew he could easily tell that you had been crying.

“Did you need me?” he asked, and you sharply inhaled at the sound of his voice. It felt like forever since he talked to you last, and hearing him speak made your stomach do flips.

“Uh… I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t really practice what I was going to say before I came in here.”

He raised a brow at you. “‘Practice?’”

“I mean, it’s kinda hard to talk to you. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… Ah shit, I don’t know. It might just be me. I’m not the best at articulating, you know?”

He hummed and grabbed his cup as you let out a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and leaning your elbows on your knees, bouncing your leg. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you wordlessly gazed at him for a moment, a made-up image of his death flashing in your mind before you shook your head and ran your hand down your face.

“Look, um… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for yesterday. For questioning your judgment when I should’ve just dealt with it. You’re my superior and I disrespected you so… Again, I’m sorry.”

Silence fell between you for a moment before he let out a sigh, setting down his cup before leaning his chin against his propped up hand. “Don’t apologize. You were right.”

Your eyes widened. Did you hear that correctly? “Uh, I’m sorry?”

Getting up from his seat, he rounded his desk to stand in front of you, and you were even more confused. You swore he would’ve been done with you by now.

“You said you and your squad were more than capable of handling the mission. You were right. Or at least, you were right at the time. The female titan would’ve wiped us all out if she wanted to, just like she did my squad. I don’t doubt that if you went after her, you’d be dead right now too.”

You stiffened slightly at his words, fingers gripping your knees as you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “Oh.”

“As captain, I’m supposed to remain unbiased. My decisions should be based on the greater good of humanity and my comrades. If my judgment is wrong, then that’s something I have to live with. Making my squad protect Eren was my decision, and they died.” He let out a long breath. “When Erwin decided to not bring you on the expedition, I was opposed to it at first. I knew that you and your squad would be able to aid us greatly, but I couldn’t sway him. However, now that I think about it, I’m glad you weren’t there.”

You were at a loss for words. When Hange had joked the other day about Levi caring about you, you didn’t take it seriously. But now that you were hearing all of this… Did he care for you? Or was it just your wishful thinking that was causing you to interpret things wrong? Slowly standing up, you briefly met his gaze before walking over to the window and looking out at the night sky, the sun having gone down a while ago, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you tried to piece together what you wanted to say to him.

“Even if you think I was right, I’m still sorry. I don’t like arguing, especially with you. And the fact that you had to go on an expedition the next day…” You swallowed thickly. “I was scared. I know you say that there’s no use regretting the decisions we’ve made, but if you died out there today and a stupid argument was the last interaction we ever had, I would’ve regretted it every day of my life.” You turned to face him, eyes glossing over. “I would’ve beat myself up when I know you’d want me to continue to be strong. But I feel like I can’t do that without you, and I feel so weak and stupid for saying that. For feeling like the only thing that gives me hope in this godforsaken world is you.”

Levi remained silent, not that you expected him to say anything, and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe at your teary eyes before sighing and giving him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t wanna hear some silly confession. I’ll let you get back to your business,” you said, walking past Levi to get to the door, but you didn’t make it that far when his hand suddenly shot out and gripped your arm, causing you to turn back and look at him.

“Why do you always do that?”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You never take yourself seriously and act like the people around you don’t either. You’re self-deprecating. You did the same thing when I found you in the mess hall years ago. Why?”

“I… I don’t know, I guess I just get nervous around you.”

“Why?”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, and your heart was racing as Levi’s grip on your arm tightened and he pulled you closer. “Because… I want to be strong in front of you. I don’t want you to see me as someone immature and incapable, and I’m scared of embarrassing myself in front of you.”

“Did you find your confession embarrassing? Do you want me to forget about it?”

“If you want to.”

“Mm. And what if I don’t?”

You let out a shuddered breath, eyes flitting down to his lips for a moment. “Then what will you do about it?”

Neither of you moved at first, your gaze not leaving one another, and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest, it was going so fast. You wondered if Levi was experiencing the same feeling. Wondered if underneath that stoic, calm expression, his blood was pumping in his ears and his pulse was going crazy. You were waiting for him to do something, anything, as he stared at you with an almost challenging look. It made anger flare up in you for some reason, and you clenched your jaw as you narrowed your eyes. 

No, I won’t let this get away from me.

Reaching up, your hand grabbed at his cravat, yanking him forward into an almost desperate kiss that had your mind reeling. His brows were scrunched up, body tense, before finally relaxing, and you could feel him almost melt into you as he brought both of his hands up to hold your face, eagerly responding. Your frustration had been building up ever since your fight, and you felt like you were both letting it all out now, each kiss hungry and rushed, barely able to pull your faces away before one of you was pulling the other one in again.

“Fuck, I can’t stand you sometimes,” you breathed out between kisses, fingers weaving into Levi’s dark locks and lightly tugging, causing him to let out a soft groan against your lips.

“Stop talking.”

You don’t know when the anxiety started bubbling in your stomach or why your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat, all you knew was that every sensation was suddenly overwhelming. Levi’s hands, his lips, his breath against your face, it was all too much. You were suddenly pushing him away, tears quickly building up behind your eyes as you panted for breath. Whether it be from the desperateness of your kisses, or the constricting of your chest, you didn’t know. You just knew that everything was suddenly hitting you at once, and you couldn't get a grasp on how to deal with it.

“Y/n…”

Right, Levi was still here, and he looked at you with a hand slightly reached out, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You hesitated, staring at his hand like you were trying to see through it, before eventually grabbing it, and he slowly pulled you into his chest. Your arms were limp at your sides, silent tears streaming down your face as Levi held you.

“They’d be proud of you, y/n. You know that.”

You felt like you had been falling all of your life, nothing to stop you, nothing to hold onto as you plummeted through an endless abyss. But now, as you brought your hands up to grip the back of Levi’s jacket and sobbed into his shoulder, for once, you felt like your feet had finally found the ground.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...? Part 9

Brace yourself, bring tissues and I will try to have the last bit/epilogue up real soon! Don’t look at me, I know I said this was the last part, but honestly, when it hit 12 pages I had to stop it there! And you lovely LOVELY enablers with your amazing comments and incredibly kind reblogs? Thank you for brightening my day! <3

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

“We have to warn them.” Dulsissia whispers, her fingers toying with the fabric covering Davarax’ collarbone. “They have to move.”

“What are you talking about?” Davarax mumbles.

“The Covert.” Dulsissia replies, feeling an anxious knot in her stomach. “Macero knows Vecon found me on Nevarro. It’s not safe there any more. He will want revenge for his brother, Corin back in his claws and… me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Davarax replies with lazy confidence.

“Do not underestimate his anger and the force he will use.” Dulsissia sits up to properly face him.

Davarax looks at her for a second then nods. “I hear you. I do. But do not underestimate the Covert. We are Mandalorians. We have survived worse things than Macero Valentis.”

Dulsissia isn’t too sure about that. She has seen an emptiness in Macero’s eyes that only belongs in black holes, the kind that simply exists to crush everything it touches, something that should not live in any human being’s eyes. But then her gaze drops to the blood glistering on Davarax’ clothing and she decides to deal with what she has right in front of her first.

“Come on. Off with it.” Dulsissia gets up and starts to detach Davarax’ breastplate. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine.” Davarax sighs, but helps her remove it and then his clothing, baring his torso, riddled with cuts and bruises and covered with sticky blood. “I’m fine.”

“This is not fine.” Dulsissia hisses, doing a quick examination of the wounds, especially where Vecon had stabbed him.

“Just a cut.” Davarax reassures her, trying to sound unfazed despite exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Luckily he didn’t get the angle right.” Dulsissia mumbles. “Held the blade all wrong.”

She’s distracted by Davarax taking a gentle hold of her chin, making her look up at his t-visor and Davarax runs his thumb over her lower lip. “That’s my girl.” He sounds proud.

Flushing, Dulsissia pulls away and straightens up. “Do you have any bacta on the ship?”

He should, right? Mandalorians tend to get into fights all the time, so it would only be sensible.

Davarax points up and she sees the small compartment in the ceiling, which turns out to have a kit with bandages, a little bacta and a cauterizer thing that she quickly shoves back into the compartment.

She ends up sitting on his knee as the silly man refuses to leave the pilot seat in case some TIE fighters should appear out of nowhere and she begins to gingerly wash away the sticky blood and apply bandages to the injuries, trying not to think about how the last time she’d touched his skin it had been under so much happier circumstances. She hates knowing he will now carry even more scars because of her. And in the dark corners of her mind, she is glad Vecon is dead.

“How is Corin?” Dulsissia asks, dreading the answer. Her poor boy.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually brings forth the Davaraxian laughter huff. “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia looks at the residual blood still drying on his skin. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone with heart breaking tenderness. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little.

Waiting for him to finish the sentence and frowning a little when he doesn’t, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Would I what?” The man just took on an entire imperial ship by himself without hesitation, but a simple request frightens him? How is that possible?

Davarax exhales, as if letting go of something, and tilts his head while making a thoughtful sound. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.”

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap. “Definitely.”

-

“Mom?” Corin’s voice across the com link is desperate and hopeful at the same time.

It hurts endlessly more than any physical pain.

“I’m here, Corin.” Dulsissia replies, eyes welling up with tears and yet makes sure to keep her voice calm. “I’m right here, baby. I’m okay. Are you okay? Me and Davarax are coming home now.”

The reply is a mess of voices as all the children try to say something at the same time, making Dulsissia reach out and touch the speaker as if she could reach them. They all sound so worried.

“SHUT UP!” Paz’ voice roars and Dulsissia expects the other children jump like she does because there is silence before Paz’ voice is heard again, calm this time; “Dulcy, when will you be landing?”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who is standing next to her while she sits in the pilot seat, and he leans down to tap something into one of the machines before holding up five fingers to her.

“Five standard hours.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out and touching the speaker again. “Okay? Five. Then we’ll be back with you. Is Corin okay, Paz? Are you okay? How, how are-”

“He’s okay.” Paz replies. His voice is suddenly a little shaky too. “We’re all… okay. Just, hurry home.” A moment’s pause before he adds in almost a whisper. “Please.”

“Five hours, Paz, sweetie, I promise.” Dulsissia gulps down some air. “Corin, baby, you hear me?”

“I’m here, mom.” His voice is choked with tears. “Is… Is uncle Vecon with you?”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax who stands like a silent guardian next to her, then focuses on the speaker again. “No. It’s just me and Davarax. Don’t worry, Corin.”

“Did you kick his ass?” Raga’s voice pipes up. “I hope you kicked his ass.”

“Of course they kicked his ass.” Din scoffs. “Davarax would never let someone take Dulcy away and not kick their ass.”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax again and this time he shrugs, so she turns back to the speaker with an awkward look on her face. “Yeah, uhm, there was. Serious ass-kicking.”

“Can’t you come home sooner, mom?” Corin pleads.

“I wish, Corin, but we can’t. We’re going as fast as we can. But we’ll be there soon.” Dulsissia replies, hating she can’t grant her son’s wish and just appear in front of him. But there is one voice missing. “Barthor, baby, you there?”

There is a second of silence and then there is a cautious and slightly surprised; “...Yeah?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. You okay?”

Another moment of hesitation before Barthor replies. “Y-yeah. I’m, uhm, yeah. Just… What they said. Hurry back.”

Dulsissia can’t help but to smile a little as she can practically ‘hear’ him blushing and Davarax must hear it too as his hand touches her shoulder and gives it a light, teasing squeeze. “We will.”

The five hours are spent half-drowsing in Davarax’ arms after he takes over the pilot seat and pulls her down on his lap. She tries to relocate to her own seat, claiming she has to be cutting off the blood supply to his legs after a while, but he refuses to let go and they end up staying like that.

And the only feeling that can compete with the peace she feels in his arms is the one she gets when she steps through the door to the Covert and Corin flings himself into her arms.

Din rushes over, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and buries his face in his stomach, while the Mandalorian gently strokes his hair.

Kneeling down and hugging her son close, giving up on holding back sobs of joy, Dulsissia peppers his hair with kisses and feels his thin arms trying to hold on even tighter. Her boy is shivering so hard it’s scary. She pets his back, his hair, continues to kiss him and squeeze him tight.

It’s almost accidental when she looks up and sees the other children standing there. Raga is clinging to Paz’ arm, tears in her eyes. Barthor hovers in the back, tears in his eyes. And Paz… who knows. The helmet doesn’t reveal anything.

Dulsissia manages a weak smile and reaches out an inviting arm.

Raga bolts forward and crashes into her so hard it kind of hurts, but Dulsissia hugs her close and Corin automatically wraps his arm around her as well. Getting Barthor to come over takes a little fingerwaggling and a nod, but eventually he slinks over. Din joins when Davarax gives him a gentle push in their direction. It feels so right, so lovely, so perfect to just hug them, squeeze them and reassure them.

Arms crossed, Paz watches them, not moving when she tries to wave him closer. In the end, she ushers her armful over to Davarax and lets them unleash their hugs on him before straightening up and stepping over to stand in front of the quiet boy.

“No hug?” She asks.

“Kids first.” He replies in a curt tone.

Dulsissia pulls him close, hugs him tight and whispers; “The helmet doesn’t change anything, tough guy. You’re still my baby. Just like the others. Always. Remember?”

Paz hesitates, then his arms slowly come up and go around her in return. “Okay…” And in that moment, he does sound terribly young and even a little lost.

Eventually Davarax makes a slight grunt and says; “Maybe we can head inside?”

Dulsissia looks over and has to smile a little as she sees he’s balancing the climbing Raga on one shoulder while Corin is holding on to his free hand with both of his. “Yeah, let’s go.”

-

The children marches on ahead, except for Corin who insists on holding on to her hand and walk next to her, and Dulsissia uses the chance to lean over towards Davarax beside her and whisper; “We have to warn them, remember?”

Davarax nods. “I remember. But it’s late. Even if we go and try to talk to her, nothing will be done tonight. It’s better to wait for morning. We got time. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to her tomorrow.”

Dulsissia sighs. “Davarax…”

“Trust me.” He says, reaching out and sliding his hand behind her neck, giving it a light and teasing squeeze. “I know what I’m doing.”

She trusts him, she really does. It’s just that Dulsissia has this horrible feeling…

They enter her and Corin’s room, where she sits down on the bed, Corin still attached to her arm, while Davarax hovers by the door and the children barely has time to settle in a semi-circle on the floor before they start asking questions about what had happened to her while she was away.

Dulsissia manages to weed out some answers of her own. Like she suspected, her cookie customers had happily told the tale of what had happened to her and after that, it was easy to weed out which ship had arrived and the name of the officer.

“It’s late.” Davarax points out when Raga mutters about how he had to go alone to save her. “You kids should head home.”

“Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position a little awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Heart breaking, Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who sighs and starts prodding at his vambrace.

“I’ll ask them.” He mumbles.

“Me too!” Raga shouts. “Can I stay too? Please?” She meekly offers; “I-I’ll be good. I promise.”

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” Paz mutters.

“What about you?” Dulsissia asks as she sees Barthor stare at the floor.

The young boy scoffs. “My mom will never let me sleep over.”

“Want to bet?” Davarax says, a slight edge to his voice.

Looking around the room, Dulsissia quickly calculates that while the children will most likely pile up together like they did on the camping trip, there really isn’t enough bedding to make comfortable mattresses for them. She has an idea…

Dulsissia clears her throat. “How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

The man’s t-visor snaps up from staring at the vambrace he’s prodding at. “Say what now?”

Din lights up like a sunrise. He stares at his hero and role model by the doorway. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax looks over at Dulsissia, who gives him a sweet smile in return, and he ends up giving a heavy sigh. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

They all settle and stare as he lifts his hand to his ear-piece and starts connecting to the different Mandalorians via their HUD comm links. Davarax switches off his external mic, so they can’t hear what he’s saying, but first he points at Din and gives a thumbs up. Which has Corin make a happy squeak, move forward as if to hug the other boy, but then realizes it means letting go of Dulsissia’s arm and sits back again with an anxious look. She has to nudge him twice before her son will let go and slide down to join his grinning friend on the floor.

Next Davarax points at Raga and gives a thumbs up. She starts a happy sound but it dies mid-squeak as she sends Paz a quick look. She settles down with a frown, taking a hold of his arm.

Dulsissia observes the annoyed twitch in Davarax’ shoulders, but after what must have been an interesting discussion, he points at Paz and gives a thumbs up. The helmet hides Paz’ reaction, but Raga lets out the rest of her happy squeak and smacks him in the shoulder with both hands, to which he responds with a half-hearted shove in return and something that sounds a lot like a faint laugh.

Barthor continues to stare at the floor while the rest stare with anticipation at Davarax. The last conversation is without a doubt the longest, Davarax even crosses his arms and taps his helmet lightly back against the door frame a couple of times, but then comes the moment when he straightens and turns his mic back on. “Barthor?”

The boy sighs and slowly looks over at him.

Davarax gives him the thumbs up.

Barthor’s eyes widen in mute surprise, a disbelieving smile breaks free and then he’s flattened the other cheering children.

-

“I hope you have a plan.” Davarax had said, watching the wrestling match on the floor. Dulsissia had given him a grin, whistled for the children’s attention and then handed out assignments.

And that is how both mattresses from their beds, all the blankets and bed covers from her and Corin’s room are carried across to Davarax’ room and placed on the floor next to Davarax’ bed. The children are acting like they are indeed camping again, all smiles and eagerness, as they get to create a nest of their own.

Dulsissia sees Corin is torn between the urge to hang on her arm and join in with the others, so she nudges him again. As much as she wouldn’t mind him clinging after having felt the fear that she’d never see him again, Dulsissia cannot forget the memory of watching him playing and running around with his friends without that anxious look in his eyes. It hurts, but she encourages him to join the others.

“I’ll be right here, baby.” She reassures him.

Davarax helps the children adjust the mattresses a little and then deem the make-shift bedding worthy of his children. He walks over to where Dulsissia is standing. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He looks around, as if scouting for a free spot on the floor.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulsissia states. “The bed are for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry!” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulsissia snaps back. Then she realizes that Davarax is just staring at her. “What?”

Davarax just shakes his head and turns to look at the chattering children settling in their places.

“And would you mind taking off the armor?” Dulsissia asks. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Davarax gives a tiny nod.

It takes some time before the children calm down and settle for the night. Dulsissia does a final check on them, fluffing pillows and deliberately cooing all sorts of endearments suitable for far younger children. Raga lies closest to the door, curled up to Paz’ back and holding on like a little jetpack, while Paz has his arm around Din, who has Corin on the other side, and closest to the bed is Barthor.

“Okay, lights out.” Dulsissia declares after Davarax climbs into the bed and flops down on his back. “Sweet dreams, and if any of you need anything, just call out. Okay?”

There is a chorus of ‘okay’s.

After turning the lights off and cautiously making her way back to bed without stepping on anyone, Dulsissia climbs into it. As Davarax insists on being closest to the door, she has to also climb over him. Sighing satisfied, she curls up close to him, rests her head on his chest and abruptly notes how incredibly tense he is. And how he is very deliberately not touching her.

After a while, Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” The answer is resolute.

Dulsissia giggles.

Corin’s head pops up from the pile. “Mom?” Several sleepy blinks. “What’s so funny?”

Dulsissia hoists herself up on her side to look at the children on the floor at the other side of Davarax, ‘innocently’ placing a hand on Davarax’ stomach, pretending to keep her balance that way while gently groping the fabric of the shirt. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep.”

Corin’s head flops down again, but at the same time, to her utter surprise, Dulsissia feels Davarax’ hand cup her behind and she has to suffocate a squeak. Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia prods two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds and he jolts with a muffled grunt.

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, and she places a hand an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away, but then he uses his other hand to grab hers, pulling her even closer, so she squirms to free herself. They both struggle to muffle their laughter.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands, fighting even harder to keep the laughter quiet.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own laughter.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms, Dulsissia searches and finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling.

This. Dulsissia Motti realizes that she doesn’t need her fortune, her fancy clothes or the fancy food. She just needs this man and these children.

Fate brought them together and nothing can tear them apart.

-

Macero Valentis looks down at the pale face of his brother as he lies dead in the med bay.

“Sir?” One of the officers step into the room, through the door flanked by two Death Troopers. “Sir, it is confirmed. The Razor Crest is back on Nevarro.”

“Good. Increase our speed. Prepare the squads.” Macero says. “Fuel up the Flame Troopers, but make it clear I want my wife and son brought back alive.”

The officer nods and disappears out of the room.

Macero’s eyes narrow.

Nevarro is going to burn and every Mandalorian there with it.

-

“Listen, she has agreed to hear you out, but remember that you’re an, well, outsider.” Davarax says, before quickly adding; “To her.”

Dulsissia nods, arms tightly wrapped around herself, increasingly more nervous as they walk towards the Forge. “I understand.”

Davarax enters the room first, she follows, and they both kneel down and wait for the leader of the Mandalorians to approach them.

Feeling every second ticking away as a life lost, Dulsissia has to dig her nails into the palms of her hands to keep quiet. It was bad enough that they didn’t approach her yesterday, but now time might actually be running out.

Finally the one in a golden mask approaches them. “So he managed to bring you back.”

“Yes.” Dulsissia says, looking up at the leader. “But I fear trouble might follow me. There is a man in the Imperial Army. An officer. His brother was killed yesterday. He will want revenge for that.” She swallows hard. “And he’ll want me and my son.”

The Mandalorian leader stares at her for a couple of seconds then looks over at Davarax. “If he comes, we will fight. That is the Way.”

“No.” Dulsissia shakes her head. “No, you can’t fight him. Didn’t you hear me? He’s an officer in the Imperial Army. He will bring his forces here and he will destroy Nevarro. You have to run before he gets here.”

“I was hoping some time apart might clear your mind, but you are still blinded by her it seems.” The leader says, now clearly speaking to Davarax.

“I love her.” Davarax states it like a simple fact.

Dulsissia’s heart does a double-flip, not expecting him to confess that in front of his leader.

“That might be your downfall.” The one in gold armor warns him.

“You don’t like me.” Dulsissia says, her voice sharp with a touch of anger but mostly impatience. “There’s not much I can do about that. But you don’t have to like me to listen to what I’m telling you; you have to evacuate the Covert.”

The leader’s visor turns back to focus on Dulsissia. “We are Mandalorians. We fight. That is the Way.”

“But it won’t be a fight.” Dulsissia insists. “It will be a slaughter. And you have children here! Do you expect them to fight as well? Do you think this man will spare them? Because he won’t.”

Davarax reaches out and discretely touches Dulsissia’s arm in a signal for her to calm down.

“We have stayed in this Covert for many years and survived. Our kind has survived the Imperial Army before. That is the Way.” The leader replies, turning away.

“No.” Dulsissia gets up, shakes off Davarax’ hand and takes a step forward. “Listen to me! Please! This man will come here and he will kill everyone. You had the other Coverts established in case of an emergency. You knew something bad could happen some day. This is that day.”

Davarax is up on his feet too now and Dulsissia can feel his looming presence behind her back, ready to either stop her or defend her, she wonders if he knows which.

“This Covert took in me and my son when we had nowhere to go and we would have starved or worse if not for your help. I may not have sworn the Creed, but you have my loyalty. I would fight side by side with you against this man if I thought there was the slightest chance that he’d fight fair and we’d stand a chance against the number of weapons and soldiers he’s bringing. I would gladly die for these children.”

The armorer takes a step towards her, suddenly uncomfortably close, but Dulsissia makes herself stand her ground. She knows how much courage means to Mandalorians.

“You would die for them?”

“Yes.”

“Then you would stay while they go to the new Covert?”

“Then I am staying too.” Davarax states.

“No, you will not.” Dulsissia snaps, then focuses on the one in gold. “If that is what it takes for you to get the children to safety. All I ask is that you take my son with you. Let Davarax raise him as his own.” Maybe this is the punishment she deserves for not seeing through Macero’s act back then?

Besides, Macero won’t kill her. That would be way too easy. He will make her suffer instead, and that means there is hope for an escape.

Corin will never forgive her, but at least he will be alive and free to hate her and in safe hands.

-

Nevarro burns. 

Most of the buildings here are reduced to ruins after the ships had bombed the area into submission. Powerful bursts of flame now flows through the air as the Flame Troopers wander around in the streets and gleefully tries to set fire to everything. Storm troopers are flooding into the underground entrances that leads below to the sewers and Macero has been told is the Mandalorian hide-out.

Forty standard minutes later, Macero is told that the place is entirely abandoned. No signs of any Mandalorians, his wife or his son.

“It’s said that a Mando brought your wife and a bunch of children on board the Razor Crest.” A Death Trooper reports. “Based on the description, sounds like the same guy as before.”

Usually Macero knows to bottle up his rage and stay calm. He knows Dulsissia is probably poisoning his son’s mind against him, but that can be corrected once Macero gets the boy back. 

However, the thought of this filthy Mando, Vecon’s murderer, fathering the next Motti child instead of him… Macero lashes out and sends everything on his desk flying. All those year, all the planning, all the effort it took to get Dulsissia, ruined. “I WANT HIS HEAD ON MY WALL!”

“Sir?” The Death Trooper clears his throat. “Sir, if I may, I have an idea…”

Panting, Macero turns his glare over at the trooper. “What is your name, soldier?”

The Death Trooper removes his helmet and gives him a smug smile. “My name is Dominic, sir. And if you want someone to hunt down this Mando for you, I know just the guy. This one just loves chasing down dangerous prey.”

-

The new Covert is a lot smaller than the one on Nevarro, but situated in the same kind of dry, dusty environment, underground and next to a small town. And while the structure is ready, it takes no small amount of work to get the place habitable.

For the next three weeks, Dulsissia works herself half to death. She gets up early and is among the last to quit, but the guilt of knowing they had to relocate because of Macero is driving her. Especially when they get the message that Nevarro had been levelled to the ground and was now nothing but a smoking pile of ashes. 

Dulsissia expects the Mandalorians to turn on her, blame her for tearing them up from their home, but to her surprise; none of them seem fazed at all and don’t treat her any different than before; with mild indifference.

The leader of the Mandalorians sends Dulsissia a long, indecipherable look when they get the news about Nevarro’s fate, but doesn’t say anything.

Corin competes with Din for having the most nightmares during the first couple of weeks and sticks to her like glue despite her efforts to have him join the other children. He keeps expecting his father to appear at any second and jumps at any sudden sound.

Davarax works even harder than all of them and she barely sees a glimpse of him for what feels like ages. He’s either out gathering supplies or hunting down prey for the bounty so he can buy whatever the Covert needs to become fully functional. 

Dulsissia leaves small boxes in front of his door, with food and even some cookies she manages to barter into her possession. She finds beautiful flowers, including ones made out of folded paper when he’s clearly been where none are to be found, in front of her door and she misses him so much she could cry.

Especially as Davarax’ room is as far away from Dulsissia’s as possible and Dulsissia knows the leader has made it so. She may be allowed to stay with the Covert, but is clearly not worthy of him.

Dulsissia feels a bittersweet happiness when Davarax shows up at her door one evening and asks to borrow her for a little while. A quick glance over at where Corin and Raga are playing some game results in her son giving her a brave smile and telling them to go. Her sweet selfless boy.

“Where are we going?” Dulsissia asks as she follows Davarax.

“Nowhere special, I’m afraid.” Davarax says in a tired sigh. “I just got back and I haven’t… I just…” His fingers touch hers as they walk. “I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Hear your voice.”

Dulsissia braids their fingers together and holds on to his hand. “I’d like that very much.” They’ve barely spent any time together since they left Nevarro.

She is a little surprised when he brings her out of the Covert, circles around the building hiding their secret entrance, and then they sit down on the sand behind it, their backs against the wall.

It’s a lovely view over the desert stretching out in front of them, stars are starting to appear in the sky and there is just the calm hum of the town nearby to disturb them.

“Tell me about the kids.” Davarax asks, carefully sliding his arm around her shoulders and leaning his helmet back against the wall. “Are they settling in?”

She tells him about Din wanting to start with blaster target practice, Raga making friends with her new braiding skills, Barthor working on making a com set for just them, Corin having fewer nightmares and Paz getting into a horrible brawl with a group of older teenagers. Dulsissia also tries to ask Davarax about his travels and how he is, but he keeps avoiding the questions and just wants to talk about her and the kids. She doesn’t push him. He sounds tired enough as is.

It’s when she’s complaining about Decco nearly breaking her arm during their last practice that Dulsissia picks up on Davarax’ deep, even breathing and how his helmet has tilted ever so slightly and barely touches her head.

He’s asleep. 

For Davarax to fall asleep out in the open, it really underlines how exhausted he must be and Dulsissia aches for him. So tired and yet he had sought her out instead of rest...

She watches their surroundings, just in case, and she lets him sleep.

The man is exhausted and someone needs to make sure he doesn’t wear himself out entirely. Davarax spends his every waking hour looking after everyone else, but who is looking after him?

Life as a Mandalorian is a dangerous one and she fears what could happen if he’s too worn down to protect himself when danger finds him.

-

Dulsissia watches, arms crossed and once again with conflicted feelings, when the day comes when Barthor comes preening into the training room with his green helmet on. And to think it’s only two months left before she’ll never be allowed to braid Raga’s hair again…

She’s still not used to seeing Paz wearing his.

Davarax had reassured her that it is allowed to remove the helmet in front of one’s family so at least she would be allowed to see Corin’s face again if he decides to take the Creed, but the fact that he’ll never sit with his friends and feel the sun on his face saddens her.

It also makes her a little hesitant at the thought of wearing one for the rest of her own life.

“Davarax.” A Mandalorian in green and grey armor stands in the doorway. “A word.”

Davarax gestures for Paz to start the warm-up before walking over to his fellow Mandalorian.

The conversation is quiet and even then, after a quick glance her way, Davarax gestures for them to use their HUD com links and cut their external mics. It sets off countless warning bells in Dulsissia’s mind.

When the other Mandalorian leaves, she stalks over. “What?”

Davarax sighs, activates his mic again. “We lost a Mandalorian. He was meant to bring back some supplies but never showed up. Dez found him yesterday. Dead.”

“Dead?” Dulsissia feels ice cold dread spread through her. “Macero?”

“We don’t know that.” Davarax reassures her. “The Galaxy isn’t exactly short of dangerous people, Dulcy. It’s not the first brother we’ve lost over the years. Even on Nevarro.”

“So why do you sound so uneasy?” Dulsissia snaps, hearing the tension in his voice.

“I just…” Davarax shrugs. “It’s stupid, but… A piece of his armor was missing. Why not take all of it? Why just one piece?”

“A trophy.” Dulsissia whispers. “My father and his friends used to do that when hunting creatures. They would take a fang, a horn, something, as a trophy. Bragging rights.”

“As I said, we don’t know. It might be a coincidence. It might be nothing.” Davarax places his hand on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry. It’s easy to say and difficult to do, I know. But there is no point in dreading something that might not come to happen.”

He’s right. She knows he is. But that still can’t stop her from worrying.

But then weeks go by and nothing more odd or bad happens. Things are starting to stabilize a little at the new Covert, it’s starting to feel a bit like the old one, and because Davarax is away on a mission Dulsissia even tries to smile in his place the day Raga puts on her helmet.

“It’s not fair.” Din mutters, arms crossed.

Standing next to him, Corin shrugs. “Well, I like looking at your face, so…”

In an instant, Din’s aforementioned face turns a deep red and he loses his battle against a tiny smile. “Y-you’re okay too. Your face. I mean, your face is okay too.”

Corin laughs. “Thanks.”

Din goes even a deeper shade of red.

Behind them, hearing the conversation, Dulsissia places a hand over her heart and nearly swoons over the adorableness of it all. She can’t wait to tell Davarax that her too perfect to be true son has his first crush, on Din! It’s too cute.

When she hears Davarax’ ship has landed, that he’s back, Dulsissia trots towards the entrance to greet him and inform him of this very interesting development.

She comes to an abrupt halt and all the giddy happiness in her chest evaporates when Davarax and two other Mandalorians enter while carrying something between them. A body wearing Mandalorian armor. They leave behind a trail of blood drops as they disappear into the darkness of the Covert.

-

After that, it takes no more than one week before the next one dies. Nine days until the next. Four days. Every time a piece of armor goes missing.

“Don’t go.” Dulsissia begs, reaching out and holding on to his arms so hard her fingers hurt from digging into him. “Don’t.”

Davarax sighs and shakes his head. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” She argues, desperate. “You don’t. You can stay here. Stay here with me. With the children. Stay.”

“Dulcy…” Davarax gently tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Shaking her head stubbornly, Dulsissia wraps her arms around his waist and holds on tight. Maybe if she just refuses to let go she can keep him here by force.

Chuckling, Davarax wraps his own arms around her and rocks her gently. “Cyare, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. I’ll come back to you. You think some mercenary can keep me away from you? Not a chance.”

Gritting her teeth and fighting against the tears, Dulsissia tightens her grip. “Don’t go.” He’d just come back from the last job yesterday and he’d kept nodding off all morning. “Please. Don’t.”

“I have to.” Davarax repeats, his hands move up to cup her face and forces her to look up at his t-visor. “When I get back, how about I teach you that dance you saw Roota do?”

“How about you stay and teach me now?” Dulsissia hiccups, losing the battle against the tears as she realizes there is no way she can persuade him to stay.

Mumbling something in Mando’a, Davarax leans down and places his forehead to hers.

Dulsissia covers her mouth with a shaky hand, sobbing quietly as she watches him walk away.

She’s wrong. Davarax comes back without a scratch. And he teaches her that funny looking dance.

It’s the mission after where things goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Dulsissia is walking towards her and Corin’s room with an armful of laundry when she notices helmet after helmet on several Mandalorians turning to look at her. 

Blinking nervously, figuring they’ve gotten some kind of message via their helmets, Dulsissia halts, holds her laundry close and half-expects them to tell her that Macero is outside the door or just draw their blasters to shoot her.

“Dulcy.” Decco’s voice says and the Mandalorian comes walking towards her. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” Dulcy whispers, now even more scared. Corin, where is Corin? Has something happened to Corin? The other children? Is it Macero?

“They brought Davarax back.” Decco says. “He is below. I’m sorry.”

For a second, the words just rattle around Dulsissia’s head and don’t make any kind of sense to her. “N-no…” Dulsissia can’t breathe. She shakes her head, trying to evict the words before they can take root, make sense and reveal the horrible truth to her. “No.”

Davarax is not dead. He can’t be dead. It’s not possible. No. NO!

For the first time there is compassion in Decco’s voice as she speaks. “He fought valiantly.”

Violent shivers shudders through Dulsissia and she fails to notice how the laundry slips from her arms and just fall to the floor. “No…” She shakes her head again, tears welling up and escaping from her eyes. “Please, no…”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe!

Decco reaches out to touch her arm and the contact sends a jolt through Dulsissia, tossing her from horrified apathy to desperate denial.

“NO!” Dulssissia runs. She runs down the hallway, towards the door where she had seen them bring the other Mandalorians brought back, lifeless and missing a piece of armor. Every Mandalorian she meets, steps aside and lowers their visors.

Rushing down the stairs, she comes to the corridor below and Dulsissia comes to an abrupt halt when she sees the children there. They are huddled together, Paz doing his best to gather them in his embrace, and she can hear some of them crying from a distance.

The hysteria flares out and turns into an icy numbness. 

Dulsissia walks forward, unaware of her own tears and the shivering heaves of air her lungs fight for. She can’t even look at the children, who all turn to face her. All she can see is the is the trail of blood leading to an open door, where she can see someone lying on a make-shift bed. 

Due to the angle of the room, she can only see them from the waist down, but she knows who it is because of the helmet lying on the floor next to them.

Davarax’ helmet is stained with blood and lies in a pool of it.

For a second, Dulsissia has to stop. Her chest is compressing so hard that she truly can’t breathe, her heart cannot beat and everything hurts. She closes her eyes and her mouth opens in a silent scream of pure agony.

It’s the sound of footsteps that snaps her out of it. The children approaching her. And it’s too much. She can’t face them now. She can’t.

She has to see.

Forcing her feet to carry her forward, Dulsissia knows she’s on the verge of passing out as she steps into the room, but she enters anyway.

Dulsissia recognizes his boots, his pants, his torso that is once again bared and again covered with blood due to more wounds, injuries they had put bacta patches on, but these won’t heal to become scars. She slowly, almost reluctantly lifts her gaze further, sees the huge pressure bandage to his neck that is soaked through with blood.

And his face...

More hot tears spill from her eyes and Dulsissia tilts her head as she studies him. His hair is as dark as Corin’s, he has more than stubble at this point, a strong jawline and almost stern eyebrows that somehow only enhances the kind expression on his face. He is the kind of handsome that would have had all the girls on Seswenna swooning over him. He’s even more perfect than she’d dare to dream he would be.

Dulsissia can’t hold back an agonized sob.

And that is when he slowly opens his eyes, gorgeous dark eyes, to look at her.

-

Shock, disbelief, insane hope, everything slams into her at once. Dulsissia rushes over to his side, grabs his hand and holds it between both of hers. “Davarax?”

He blinks wearily. “Hey…”

His voice, unfiltered and drenched with pain, confirming that he is indeed alive.

Now the sobs are unbridled relief and joy, Dulsissia leans down to press kisses to his hand. “You’re alive. Thank the stars, you’re alive. I thought… They said… You’re alive.”

“I’m sorry…” Davarax whispers.

“Sorry?” Dulsissia’s head whips up to look at him, still crying with relief. “What are you sorry for?”

Davarax’ beautiful dark eyes avoid hers, even though he’s clearly too weakened to do much else. “My helmet. They had to take it off.” He swallows and cringes with pain, probably due to the wound on his neck. “To stop the bleeding. I can’t put it back on. It’s not allowed.”

Shaking her head, even more confused, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Then don’t wear it. I don’t care.”

“You don’t understand.” Davarax breaks into a couple of coughs and has to grit his teeth against the pain. Sweat is glistering on his skin. He makes himself look at her again. “I’ve broken my Creed. I… I have to leave the Covert. I have to leave you.”

Dulsissia blinks and then she sits up straight. “No. If you’re not allowed to stay, then we will leave.”

Davarax tries to sit up as well but can barely get his head up an inch from the pillow before he falls back with a gasp of pain and has to breathe for several seconds. “Dulcy… You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You were right. The killings.” Davarax swallows, a drop of sweat trailing from his temple. “It was Macero. He hired some… nightmare of a creature. To go after Mandalorians.” He swallows again. “He said he was going to bring… my head back to Macero Valentis. For his wall.”

Dulsissia feels a wave of nausea roll through her. Her fault. This is her fault. She can tell by the severity of the cut to his neck how close this ‘nightmare-thing’ had come to succeeding.

“Without the Covert…” Davarax sounds utterly resigned amidst his pain. “I can’t protect you, Dulcy. I can’t keep… you and Corin safe. From him. Not on my own. You have to stay here.”

Shaking her head, Dulsissia reaches out and ever so gently cups the side of his face, feeling the warm skin and slight roughness of his heavy stubble verging on beard. “I don’t want you to protect me, Davarax. I want us to protect each other. I’m learning to fight and with you I can only get better. And Mandalor help whomever tries to put their hands on my son.”

Davarax almost smiles, but the sadness from his eyes is not banished. And, oh, he looks so tired. “Except for the Razor Crest and my armor, I have nothing, Dulcy. I can offer you nothing.”

Dulsissia reaches out her other hand, holds his face carefully between her hands, and holds his gaze as well. “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?” Dulsissia repeats.

“I…” Davarax looks utterly confused and he even manages to lift a hand to touch her arm. His touch is very cold. “Dulcy, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Did you hear me?”

“But…” Davarax frowns, the confusion drowning out the pain for a moment.

“I love you.” Dulsissia says, running a thumb along his cheekbone. “I’m not losing you again. Wherever you go, I go. So, will you marry me?”

Davarax swallows. “Yes.”

Dulsissia feels sweet, giddy joy flood her veins. She caresses his face for a little while, fascinated by how incredibly lovely he looks, it’s not fair he gets to have such a handsome face when he’s also the kindest man she’s ever met. “One more question.” She moves one hand down to trail two fingers over his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Something flashes in Davarax’ eyes and he looks strangely nervous when he nods.

“You sure?” Dulsissia asks, a little wary after his odd reaction.

But there is no hesitation in his second nod so she leans down and, mindful of his wounds and weakened state, she gently brushes her lips to his.

It’s just as sweet as she suspected it would be.

But when Dulsissia pulls back, she sees the utterly dazed look in Davarax’ eyes and that combined with the slightly passive response she’d gotten fuels a suspicion in her head. “Was that… your first kiss?” Surely not.

The only thing preventing Davarax from blushing right now is the lack of blood in his body. He finally gives the tiniest of nods.

That stuns Dulsissia for a second and that is when she hears her beloved son’s voice whisper;

“I told you she would find a way. I told you we weren’t going to lose him. I told you!”

Sitting up straight, Dulsissia looks over at the doorway. “If we’re going to live on the Razor Crest for the foreseeable future, we are going to have a talk about privacy, baby. Get your butt in here.”

Corin shuffles in, flushing deep red. “Sorry, mom.”

Din follows him and stares angrily at Dulsissia. “You are leaving too? You and Corin?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yes. We are going with Davarax.” She hears Davarax drawing a pained breath, either to apologize or try to explain or something, so she squeezes his hand gently and shakes her head at him. “You. Rest.”

“What about me?” Din asks, the anger giving way to despair. “I don’t want to stay here. Please. Don’t leave me. If you do, I’ll run away! They will never find me. I’ll die before I go back.”

Dulsissia hesitates. “Baby, I…”

“I want to come too.” Paz steps into the room, followed by Raga and Barthor. He reaches up and takes a hold of his helmet, but Barthor grabs his arm.

“Paz! Take it off and you can’t put it back on. Remember?”

“I know.” Paz replies, shaking off the arm and calmly removing his helmet. The two years have chipped away at the roundness of his face and Dulsissia can see he’s at the very start of growing into the man he’ll one day become. “I’m going with you.”

Raga silently removes hers as well. “My parents have my brothers. I’m just trouble to them.”

Lost for words, Dulsissia merely stares at them.

-

Before any more words can be exchanged someone steps into the room. The children quickly step back to give room for the Armorer to enter.

Dulsissia tenses up and holds on tight to Davarax’ hand. What does the leader want?

“Get out.” The one in gold armor orders.

The children rush out of the room, but Dulsissia hesitates. She looks over at Davarax.

“Go...” He says. “It’s fine.”

Dulsissia gets up but pauses next to the Armorer. “I’ll be waiting right outside. Okay?”

“Okay.” Davarax replies.

Dulsissia reluctantly steps out of the room, but does what she said; waits right outside the door that closes behind her. The children all stare curiously at her, but she shakes her head at them, not ready to answer questions yet. She has too many of her own.

And most of them are then answered by accident.

She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the room isn’t exactly sound-proof and the door is flimsy.

“I told you.” The leader’s voice says, but sounding… different. “I warned you she would become your downfall. Now look at you, vod.”

“And I told you, I love her.”

“She made you weak.”

“No.” Davarax coughs and grunts with pain. “No, not weak. Without her… I don’t think I could have defeated him, vod. Without her, I think I would have ended up dead. She… She makes me… want to live.”

“Everyone knows they took off your helmet.”

“I’m aware.” Davarax mumbles. “We both knew this was a possibility with that rule. It’s okay.”

“Where are you going to go, vod?”

“I don’t know.” A short silence. He’s struggling to speak, so very exhausted. “I’m going to miss you, vod. Mom would have been proud of you.”

“Promise me you will kill that Valentis vermin.”

“One day.”

“Ret'urcye mhi, vod.” The leader’s voice is back to normal again. And the door opens before she steps out into the hallway. There the golden helmet turns its visor to focus on Dulsissia. “He says he is alive because of you. Make it your Way to keep him alive.”

Dulsissia nods.

The leader then looks over at the children, pauses on Paz. “Your father will not be pleased.”

Paz gives her a weak smile. “When is he ever?”

“That is his Way.” The visor turns back to Dulsissia. “Take supplies from the food storage. Bring Davarax’ weapons. Load up the Razor Crest. I suggest you move fast, as once Dez Vizla learns of this he will indeed not be pleased. And he will blame you. Davarax is in no shape to protect you.”

“Thank you.” Dulsissia means it. “For everything. And I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” The leader replies. “May you find your Way.”

Dulsissia watches the Mandalorian walk away, takes a deep breath and turns back to the children looking at her. While Dulsissia has no trouble bringing Paz along, his father will be livid over him removing the helmet and isn’t fit to raise him anyway, but the rest… “Raga, are you sure-”

“I’m coming.” The girl states, uncharacteristically calm. “I know what you’re going to say, Dulcy. I love my mom and dad, I do, but… I like being with you guys. Back home it is always screaming and punching and stupidheads. One time I fell asleep in Din’s hiding place and when I ran home the next morning, they hadn’t even noticed I was gone. I’m old enough to put on the helmet, I can decide to leave.”

“You have to tell them.” Dulsissia says, and Raga nods.

Corin stares wide-eyed up at his mother, a look of awe he’s only given to Davarax in the past.

Dulsissia looks over at Barthor, hovering in the background and the only one still wearing his helmet. He jolts and shakes his head, so she gives him a soft smile. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. Nobody is angry with you if you want to stay. That’s perfectly okay.”

Paz and Raga glance back at him and pull him forward to hug him between them, mumbling reassurances that they are not angry with him.

“Din…” Dulsissia says and he is quick to interrupt her.

“I will run away. I will! I swear it!” He steps forward, breathing hard. “Don’t leave me here.”

“We’re not going to leave you.” Dulsissia promises. “But we are going to have to record a message for your parents.”

“They are not my parents.” Din mutters with distaste.

“According to the Covert they are.” Dulsissia points out and closes her eyes for a moment. “Okay. Listen up, here’s what we are going to do…”

-

Dulsissia and Paz have Davarax between them helping him walk the final steps before they can ease him into the seat. Getting him up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest had been both terrifying and exhausting, but they have managed, somehow, the three of them.

Davarax is soaked with sweat, beyond pale and in so much pain he can barely talk.

Corin and Raga are below in the cargo hold, fastening the crates of supplies they’d brought, while Din is in the pilot seat and already flipping switches and pressing buttons.

Paz gives Davarax a pat on the shoulder and then disappears to help Corin and Raga. Dulsissia checks on the wounds, sees a couple have started to bleed again, but it’s the one on the neck that worries her. The scanner she had ‘borrowed’ from the Covert had given her an idea of the damage done to him and she knows it won’t take much before that compromised artery will tear open. It’s a miracle he’s alive.

“We’re ready.” Din declares as the Razor Crest’s engines comes alive.

Dulsissia buckles Davarax in, gives his sweaty temple a quick kiss that he’s barely conscious to acknowledge and then trots over to stick her head down into the cargo hold. “You guys ready?”

Corin and Raga run over to the fold-down seats and starts buckling themselves in. Paz does a final check on the cargo being properly secured before he gives her the thumbs up and moves over to make sure Corin and Raga are securely buckled in.

Dulsissia gets up and finds her own seat, buckling in. “Okay, Din. Let’s go.”

The Razor Crest shudders and shakes a bit, Din clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the controller and then eases the ship up into the air. “Okay… Here we go.”

Everything jolts a bit as they shoot forward and then race towards the blackness of space.

Once they are gliding smoothly among the stars, Dulsissia dares to unbuckle herself and walks over to check on Davarax. His head is hanging low and he seems to be out of it, but the scanner shows his vitals are strong if a little jumpy. Good.

“Mo-om?” Corin’s voice sounds from the cargo hold.

Ice cold dread strikes and Dulsissia runs over to the door and hurries below. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong? Who is hu..” Her voice dies out as she turns from the ladder and finds herself looking at Paz, Raga and Corin all standing around Barthor, who is sitting on the floor.

“Barthor?” He’s still wearing his helmet, the visor fixated on the floor, so Dulsissia crouches down in front of him. “Barthor, baby, what are you doing here?”

Barthor sighs and slowly lifts his visor to look at her. “My parents don’t care whether I’m there or not. The only friends I have are here.” He sounds horribly defeated. “What choice did I have?”

Dulsissia reaches out and stops him as he lifts his hands and takes a hold of his helmet. “Baby, no. Listen to me. You have a choice. If you want to, we turn around and bring you back home right away. If you want to stay, you stay and we send a message to your parents. And your helmet? You don’t have to take it off. You wear it as long as it feels right to you. Your choice, baby. Okay?”

Barthor nods, trying to hide a sniffle. He lowers his hands and leaves the helmet on. “But I already left them a message. So… I’d like to stay here, if that’s acceptable with you.”

Dulsissia has to smile and nods. “That is very acceptable.” She leans forward and taps her forehead to Barthor’s helmet, to which he ducks his head down with an embarrassed laugh.

That was the beginning.

The beginning of their family.

The beginning of their journey.

And the beginning of the end of Macero Valentis.

[sweeethinny]

Colors

started with a one shot because I wanted to write about someone fighting with Snape during an Order meeting (because God knows I would)

ended with me writing three moments of a world where jily lives, Sirius and Hestia happen, and it takes place in 1995

TW: the first one shot - BLACK - talks about an anxiety attack, so if you don't want to read about it, just skip to the next color: YELLOW

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

Black. {respect, death, isolation, fear, loneliness.}

Sirius felt like he was going to lose his mind, and he probably would.

Memories of a past he tries so hard to forget keep coming back to him at night, preventing him from sleeping, which automatically prevents him from living as a normal human being.

But it's only when Dumbledore forbids him to leave the house for anything - Moody thinks he's too unstable - that Sirius freaks out.

He breaks everything in the attic, absolutely nothing escapes his anger. He rips up stupid family portraits, smashes stupid ceramic cups, burns old newspapers that proudly displayed a picture of the Black family on the cover - a photo he wasn't in. Sirius feels he could blow up that house if it weren't for James, Lily and Harry living there. It's basically what keeps him from ending that stupid legacy that haunts him like a death spell.

He picks up that stupid box of pictures he hid before before everyone arrives - because he's ashamed -, and starts burning them one by one with his wand, hating more than anything to notice there aren't any pictures of him in there. He's been completely erased from the family, and Sirius thinks it's a pain that will never go away.

Watching Regulus's cheerful face burn through photo after photo, enrages him even more. The golden boy, the most perfect of all, while he has his name burned on the wall, and everything that could show that were two brothers before, erased like a single misspelled word in a letter.

He doesn't exist there, only his bedroom remains, which is one of the rooms he avoids the most, although it's the only one left to prove that he once lived there.

He hates that house, he feels like marching to his parents' grave and screaming at them, and screaming at that stupid portrait of his mother until there's no more air in his lungs, because she did that to him. She's turned him into this unstable madman who needs to be chained indoors like a dog while the others work for him.

Before he could do anything else, James intervened.

And at first Sirius hated him to do that, because how could James care so much for someone like him? He wanted to scream and push James from upstairs, wanted him to leave him alone, but suddenly he didn't want any of that anymore. Then Sirius began to shamelessly cry like a child on his best friend's shoulder, sobbing as if someone had hit him.

James didn't say anything, because he was a good friend after all, just stood there, hugging Sirius and hoping that whatever happened to him would pass and he'd calm down.

Sirius felt like crap for not being as good as James.

"I'm here with you," James said, as he would say to Harry or Lily. ''Everything will be fine.''

''No, James, you know it’s not that easy, I... I can't stand being in here anymore, there's a memory wherever I look, I... Dumbledore took everything I had left, I want my freedom back, I want my motorcycle, I want my wife I want my house...'' Later, Sirius would be embarrassed for sounding so weak, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"Hestia will be here in a few days, and… it will all be over as quickly as it started, you'll see, by Christmas you'll be back to your routine."

‘’It's not true, Prongs, you know it's not. We've been in this shit for years now, I feel like I'm going to die any second.”

"You won't, I won't let you," James promises, hugging him even tighter.

Yellow. {light, warmth, relaxation, optimism, joy}

Hestia first entered Grimmauld Place during the night, a storm was falling outside and her body was cold and tense. She just wanted to see him, for Merlin's sake, just make sure he was okay. She made sure not to make so much noise because Lily said in the letter that there was a horrible portrait of Sirius' mother who would scream if you woke her up, and Hestia didn't have the patience for that.

She's had horrible days now that she's had to travel further into the woods—which doesn't help her research at all—and has been prevented from talking to him. Hestia had only spoken to Lily once, and she told her that Sirius was not well, which was nothing new as he had to go back to his parents' house and Hestia knew that it would torment him much more than it already did.

But when she arrived in the kitchen she noticed him there, sitting alone at the table, a half-empty bottle of wine and an empty glass in front of him. Sirius had his back to her, but Hestia didn't need to see him to know he had a serious expression on his face.

"You shouldn't drink this time of night," she said, her voice sounding a lot more worried than she imagined it would.

Sirius jumped up from his chair, wand already in hand, gray eyes bulging as he watched her warily. ‘’Tell me about our first time.’’

Hestia laughed. "Only you to ask me that question," She sighed. ''We were at the Potter's house, Euphemia had made the bed in the guest room for me, so I went to say good night but you started kissing me and when I saw it, I was half naked on your bed, wearing a black lingerie, and you was saying you wouldn't let me out of there ever again… Anything else?''

Sirius didn't answer her, just lowered his wand and walked over to Hestia with a face so worried she almost didn't recognize him, his arms enveloping her in a warm, familiar hug that made her bury her head in his shirt, feeling a little foolish for wanting to cry.

"I've missed you so much," Sirius said, his lips against her hair, damp from the rain and a little oily from days without washing it. “Merlin, I thought I was going crazy.” He denies it. "I went crazy actually."

"Lily told me," Hestia hugged him even tighter, wanting Sirius to understand that she was really there, that he wasn't alone. ''How are you?''

"Absolute shit…" He snorted, pulling away from her enough that Hestia could look at him more cautiously. Sunken eyes and cheeks, big dark circles, long hair, stubble… Her heart aches. “But you're here now, so we're stuck in this shit together. You can't run away from me anymore, Jones.”

''Not at all, Moody forbade me to leave the house after I got back, something about,'' Hestia pauses, remembering the unfriendly conversation they had, and how the auror yelled that ''her out-of-control husband nearly killed them ''. Sirius would probably think it was his fault that she couldn't go out anymore. Which was half true, but then again, Hestia didn't help herself when she lost her temper and yelled at Moody back. "About him and Dumbledore not wanting to take chances with one of us out of the house."

“They think I'm crazy, don't they?” His jaw tensed, his gray eyes seeming to burn. "Well, I'm sorry if I didn't keep quiet when I heard someone talking shit about my godson and calling him a liar."

"You don't help Harry at all if you keep threatening other Aurors."

"I know." He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes steady on hers. There was a faint booze smell to him, but nothing to make her think he was completely drunk. "But you know how I am."

"I know," Hestia placed her hands on his face, making a brief caress of his cheek before leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, but I prefer you without that beard."

"I was thinking of making it look like Dumbledore's." Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes still closed and his lips touching hers.

"Do that, and you'll never see the middle of my legs again."

"Ouch, it's not fair," He looked at her, his gray irises gleaming in amusement as he pouted softly.

"Take it or leave it, Black." Hestia pulled away from him, grabbing her suitcase from the floor. “I need to take a shower.” She arched her eyebrows. 'Will you keep me company?'

“Of course, I hear this house is very haunted, so I'll have to stay with you to protect you from the ghosts.” They walked out of the kitchen, taking slow steps so as not to wake the fucking portrait.

''Thank you so much, I'm terrified of haunting.'' Hestia smiled, letting him lead her to his room - which looked strangely untouched - and then to the bathroom, with Sirius talking non-stop about how he would protect and secure her, so that Hestia didn't have her foot pulled during the night.

“We'll have to sleep cuddled together so that doesn't happen.” He took off his shirt, and Merlin, how she missed him. "And no clothes." Sirius waved his wand at the water to fill the tub, then unzipped his pants and took them off along with his underwear.

''I'm sure yes.''

Red. {passion, lust, war, danger, violence}

It is during a meeting of the Order that Hestia loses her temper.

She was sitting next to Sirius and holding hands with him, as they usually are, talking quietly about everything and nothing while Molly doesn't come down and McGonagall doesn't arrive. Everyone is there, she knows it, and every now and then someone looks at the nearly untouched glass of firewhiskey in front of Sirius, but she doesn't care, she keeps talking to him and making him chuckle softly, saying how indecent her new panties are just because she likes to tease him.

And because things are getting more and more tense.

Living in that house didn't just affect Sirius, but she too, and every now and then Hestia finds herself close to breaking everything in sight, blind with rage that Dumbledore has trapped them there like a lab rat, thinking that if Sirius doesn't explode that house, or that damned picture of his mother, she goes.

Anxiety gnaws at her inside and every day she wakes up thinking that this will be the last, tomorrow they will return to their home, safe and sound, enjoying their freedom again, and Hestia won't have to worry about talking portraits and a elf that pisses her off, no matter how kind she tries to be.

But when Snape speaks - something she's been ignoring since he arrived - she just can't take it anymore.

''Like Black could do anything, being trapped in here.'' He says, in that petulant tone he's been throwing at her, Sirius, James and Lily every meeting, and Hestia's chest burns, finally finding a good target to take out all her anger.

She knew Lily said it was best to ignore him, she tried to do it, but Hestia couldn't do it anymore, not when Dumbledore trapped them there now that they were no longer useful making them almost insane. Driving Sirius insane! How can he trap him in the only house he knows would affect him, in an environment where for years he's been frowned upon and unloved, making him wake up the demons that have long been sleeping.

Sirius was getting sick in there and Dumbledore couldn't care less.

Without saying a word she reached for her wand at her hip, standing up and nearly knocking over the chair behind her, making everyone look at her as she sewed Snape's mouth shut and stopped him from talking any more, eyes getting huge in his face.

"Speak one more time of my husband and I'll kill you, and I'm not even kidding," Hestia said, her voice low and her eyes hard on that coward. ''I've killed a lot of Death Eaters in the last few years, and I would have done it to you in a blink if Dumbledore hadn't convinced himself that you're worth some shit. But I don't believe it, Snape, I know you, you're nothing more than a scared coward who runs when sees the boat sinking, so think twice before talking about my husband, because I can kill you without you even seeing where the spell came from.'' She undid the invisible ropes that they kept his mouth shut, and the man let out an exaggeratedly long breath of air, but Hestia didn't mind.

She sat back down, feeling her heart beat much faster than normal, hot blood rushing through her veins and making her feel feverish.

Sirius smiled, putting his arm over her shoulder and staring at Severus near the other end of the table, his eyes blazing with anger but still looking too scared to speak. Coward.

It didn't take long for the meeting to start, obviously Dumbledore being an idiot every time he needed to talk to her, probably wanting to remind her who was in charge here, like he did at Hogwarts. Well, she hadn't been his student for years now, so she couldn't have cared less about it, honestly.

[ronalddear]

Experiment.

hey! this is a little one-shot into some DH tent angst (really doesn't get better than that) this is my first time writing any fanfiction at all so bear in mind that this is very armature.

I've been thinking about this idea for a couple months now and it's officially my headcannon replacement for the Harry-Hermione dance scene in DH, which i'm not the biggest fan of. I've already rambled on a bit but please feel free to reblog and comment your opinions and possible improvements!

The ground was inexplicably hard where Ron stood, the canvas tent behind him violently thrashing through the harsh night wind. Perhaps his thin shoes were wearing out after years of being hand-me downs, or months of endless use while they aimlessly trudged around Britain.

Ron knew though, that he was just tired. He didn't know how his shoulders managed to sag with exhaustion while remaining tense in discomfort but that's how he's been since he woke up in that god-forsaken tent.

He checked and re-enforced the wards, something that he was insanely adamant about after returning, paranoia finally setting in. It was constant at this point, hunger had become somewhat familiar and his fingertips were always a faint purple.

Not that he was complaining, he had Harry and Hermione within arms and ears reach now and he could not possibly ask for anything more.

"Ron! Dinner!", Harry's voice rang through his ears, disrupting his thoughts.

Shit. He had done it. He wasn't aware how long he had been wallowing outside and he was sure the porridge he had taken his time making for the three of them had overcooked on the stove.

He could picture Hermione's look of disdain clearly and cursed himself, not wanting her to get more mad at him but also acknowledging how he had wasted their already near non-existent supply of food.

"Merlin, I'm sorry! I'll try and find something else to-" he began with pace and halted halfway through.

Harry stood expectantly in the tiny living room area in front of Hermione who was neatly sat on their tiny couch. Harry's hands were raised excitedly yet awkwardly in an 'L" shape gesturing towards the worn table where Hermione's books usually lived.

Except there was a small space cleared, and it was occupying a small plate which had about 4 stacks of bread, with jam doused in-between and on top, with the wand that he had given Harry stabbed in the middle, a tiny flame at its tip.

Bloody hell it was a birthday cake.

"My birthday already?" he mumbled, still in awe of the poorly presented but beautiful stack in front of him.

"Well-"

'It was yesterday, I checked the calendar this morning." Hermione cut Harry off shortly, her eyes shamefully anywhere but Ron.

"Oh" he said, wishing so desperately that she would just look at him.

"Come on then mate, make your wish, because I'm not bloody singing" Harry encouraged, his eyes shining fondly at Ron.

With a soft chuckle, he sat on the ground at the table, feeling Harry follow next to him. He blew out the 'candle' softly, not even thinking about his wish, there were simply too many.

Harry gave a low whoop and reached over Ron with a knife and fork and haphazardly cut the cake into thirds.

When Hermione's eyes finally reached his, because yes, he had not taken his eyes off her, his stomach gave a jolt and a small smile graced his lips. Her lips however were still set in the line that she had been giving him for the past couple weeks but her eyes were so gentle and loving, almost unwillingly so, as if she was trying so very hard to be mad. After Harry hurriedly plated their shares and they began eating, a small lump began forming in Ron's throat. He willed himself not to cry, it was just sodding jam soaked toast after all.

He looked up at his two best friends as they ate, observing as Harry scarfed down his portion and as Hermione ate slowly, taking sips of her weak tea in between, knowing it was far too sweet for her taste.

"Wish we could have given you a gift." she said so softly, that he had taken a few seconds to register that she said anything at all.

Her eyes were still on her plate.

"Don't need one", he murmured, hoping that he sounded earnest enough that it could translate how very thankful he was.

"Really?! You sure?", Harry said, and Ron swore for a second that it was eleven year old Harry speaking to him. It was evident that the boy was prone to sugar rushes, even if it was a tablespoon of old jam.

"I have all I need.", he said, voice steadier this time, flashing a grateful smile at him, which was returned.

"Really? Not even a special birthday snog Ron? Because if you want I'll do it again-"

"Harry I'm fine! Merlin's Beard!', Ron interrupted Harry's rushed teasing with loud laughter, Harry's roaring laugh following close behind.

"Wait what do you mean again?" Hermione chanced at Harry, her eyebrows furrowed inquisitively and mouth adorably agape.

Breaking their giggling fit, they both turned towards her , eyes widening at the exact same time. It was then Ron realized that there was soft music playing, presumably from the wireless that was on the table. Has it always been on?

'Nothing don't worry."

"Nothing!"

Harry had followed Ron with the most non-convincing 'nothing' he had ever heard. Sensing what was about to happen, he suddenly felt the strongest urge to slap Harry on the back of his head.

"No no, you said again" Hemione retaliated, her eyes wide as ever, it was the most lively Ron had seen her for months.

"It was once in fourth year!"

'Don't worry about it Hermione, it's fine."

Ron's head snapped toward Harry cursing the stupid sugar in the stupid jam that apparently made Harry, quite frankly, very stupid.

"Wait wait! what?!" Hermione was energetic now and had fully swiveled to face them both.

Realizing that he physically could not lie to Hermione straight to her face, he accepted his fate and both boys began rambling at the same time, Harry excitedly, Ron bracingly.

"Look after the Yule ball-"

"This is rather depressing actually-"

"Shut up Ron, you liked it."

"I don't recall saying I didn't-"

'Anyway, after the shit-show that was the ball, y'know, we wanted to see if-"

"Oh my god I can't believe we're actually- We said we wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Bit late now Ron, anyway, we wanted to-'

"To see if what?!" Hermione gaped at them both, she was clearly teasing now, after seeing Harry's frantic (and hand waving heavy) storytelling and Ron's hair to toe blush.

"Just experimenting-"

"Just for fun!" Harry interjected.

They turned towards each other, eyes wide and then proceeded to practically scream at Hermione.

"Just for fun!'

Just experimenting!"

Great. Now they've switched excuses.

Hermione burst into loud laughter, after much suppression. It was, by far, the most beautiful sound Ron had ever heard and he wished for it to never stop.

This unfortunately, did not halt his maroon blush or the clearly embarrassed look on his face, which made her laugh even more. The second he took a glance at Harry and their eyes met they erupted into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, Harry doubling over and Ron throwing his head back. Drunk on laughter perhaps, Harry leaned over to the wireless and increased the volume, a slow yet rhythmic song filled the small tent.

"Let's have a ball yeah? Like last time?' Harry said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively on the last part, causing Ron to start laughing again, completely red faced.

Hermione struggled to breathe giggling as she looked on at them clearly trying to ballroom dance and failing miserably. The form was so bad no one was sure who was leading at this point, Ron's shoulders much too stiff and Harry's hands much too loose around Ron's waist. They were jumping around madly in the tent laughing harder than ever. Hermione managed to tease once more through gasping breaths,

"Should I leave before you start snogging or-"

"Oh shut up you!", Harry exclaimed, accompanied by a rude hand gesture and Ron simply stared at her and grinned.

'Come join us then', Ron said, holding out his hand for her.

She pretended to think for a moment before getting up, the thin blanket around her laid forgotten on the couch. They rotated for a couple moments, Hermione taking turns in being spun by Harry and Ron, all three of them a giggling mess, their threadbare socks squeaking on the wood floors.

Ron and Harry began a much too rough slow dance once more and Hermione was lightly swaying on her own before standing behind Ron, wrapping her arms around his stomach and tiptoeing her furthest, her nose barely reaching his shoulder. Effectively sandwiched between the pair of them, Ron was thrashing widely in attempts to throw them all off balance, cheeks impossibly red. The lump that was in his throat earlier had developed into free flowing tears and sniffles and he didn't care to stop them.

It didn't bother him because he knew he saw Harry's watering eyes and wobbly smile and felt Hermione's soft sobs through her giggles.

It was definitely the sugar or perhaps the sheer sadness of it all but for a moment they were still children who didn't have any worries or wars to fight on their own. Hermione nuzzled into Ron's back, still giggling, and placed a shy but firm kiss on his jumper-clad shoulder. He reached behind him for her hand and gently pulled her to the front, now spinning both Harry and Hermione, his heart glowing with joy. He tugged her towards him and gave a soft, chaste kiss to her hairline. Now both giggling, they seized Harry and planted two very hard kisses on his cheeks from behind, startling him enough to let out a disgusted squeak and he roared with laughter as he wiped his face on his jacket.

It was insanely messy but it was perfect. So perfect that Ron didn't care that in the morning he would have to second guess if Hermione was even close to forgiving him or that Harry would brood all day about the Hallows and be distant from them both, a war on their shoulders. He was with the two people he loved the most and for that he was thankful.

[windmaedchen-fairytail]

Power Lust

It’s been a couple of weeks since Ivan’s experiment. Makarov hadn’t left him alone about this business, so in the end he had budged and admitted the use of the rare lacrima. What he failed to understand was the drama his father made out of it. Laxus was clearly fine and Ivan was there to help him adjust to the new found power. One could have thought that his efforts and time spend to nurture his son would be met with enthusiasm, however, in reality, Makarov was barely tolerating it.

Not that Ivan really expected anything else by now, as tolerating him was one of his father’s specialities. He shifted his weight and leaned against the frame of the open door. He was watching from afar as Laxus did some extra training, trying to conjure lightning and making it hit the dummy.

“KACHOW! KACHOW! Hahahahaha!”

Laxus shouted out loud above the noise of thunder every time his lightning struck. He danced when he hit his target and groaned when he did not. He wouldn’t sulk for long, however, as the joy of finally becoming a wizard like his Dad and Grandfather gave him the strength to continue.

The passion in Laxus’s movements and voice brought a smile to Ivan’s lips. His son had accepted the lacrima much better than he had anticipated and all he needed now was guidance to bring forth all that he is capable of.

When Ivan heard the faint steps behind him, his smile disappeared from his face. He turned around to see Makarov stand next to him, watching out into the garden. For a moment, there was silence between the two men but then the older Dreyar began the conversation he came to have.

“He is so motivated to learn and become stronger. He is doing that for you. Does that make you happy?”

“I am certainly pleased to see this, yes. The result is better than I had hoped for and Laxus might actually become a useful asset.”, replied Ivan calmly. When he heard Makarov grunt in disapproval, he looked over. Was that not what he had just asked for?

“That wasn’t quite what I was thinking of.”, sighed Makarov. “Result? Useful asset? Can’t you ever stop talking about people like they are tools and appreciate them for their souls?”

“At least I DO appreciate the fact that they ARE tools and I will utilize Laxus to the best of his potential. It will give him a real purpose beyond just being my son - or your grandson.”

“Tools and experiments, is that all you really care for? Did you not feel any love for Laxus the way he was? Was he not good enough?”

Now it was time for Ivan to grunt in disapproval. How could that weak boy be good enough? He was constantly sick, couldn’t do any magic yet and still needed a nanny nearly 24/7. Was this not exactly what he needed, to become stronger, more powerful and gain independence from all the guild’s mother hens around him?

Another thought crossed Ivan’s mind, as he turned to answer his father.

“If challenging your son and training him to become better and stronger than the Status Quo of yesterday is, in your eyes, a lack of love - I dare say I love my son as much as you did yours.”

“Ivan! What are you--”

Makarov stopped mid-sentence and turned to face his son. While Ivan returned the gaze, his eyes were clouded and shielded the view into his soul from Makarov’s penetrating stare.

Laxus’s voice drew their attention before the conversation could continue.

“Whoohoo! More! More! Kachow—OUCH!”

The blonde boy jumped in circles for a moment, shaking his arm frantically. The lacrima had been implanted into a host body much weaker than its inert magic level. This meant that while being used so clumsily, overflowing magic will escape in an uncontrolled manner, causing some harm to the encompassing tissues. A minor problem that will go away with training. In fact, Laxus himself seemed hardly fazed by it, as he started laughing during his little dance of pain.

“Laxus! Remember what I told you about visualizing your attack first. If you go too fast, you’ll loose control!”

Ivan reprimanded him from afar. His son lifted his arm to the sky as if to say “All good!” and then turned around to get payback on the training dummy.

Makarov pointed at Laxus and reproached Ivan with it.

“This is hurting him! You WILL stop this.”

Ivan ignored the warning and chuckled quietly do himself.

“Come now, we all have had our accidents as we were training. I don’t remember letting that hold you back from encouraging me to continue. Isn’t this exactly as you like it?

“This is different, Ivan. There is a line to everything and this-”, Makarov pointed at Laxus, “-is crossing it. You KNOW that to be the case. Implanting that lacrima into his weak body could have killed him in the spot if you had made even the slightest mistake. It STILL could kill him now, if you excerpt him too much.”

With a wave of the hand and a groan Ivan dismissed the issue.

“Yes, yes. Stop complaining. Life is a risk. Look at him! He is making the best out of himself, overcoming his weakness. He would never have had any of that strength without me.”

“LOOK! DAD! GRAMPS!”

Laxus pointed excitedly at a charcoaled area on the dummy that glimmered a bright red around some sharp edges of the wood. His lightning had burned it. His family responded in unison, one in approval, one in dismay.

This wasn’t what Makarov hoped for.

“I know very well that as a father you wish to see your offspring become strong and self-sufficient. It is our responsibility to support them in that endeavour, too. But this is a shortcut that will harm him, Ivan. Why don’t you see that?”

“Oh quit it, old man. You have not the faintest idea nor do you care about my work and all you have ever done is impose sanctions and recite love poems to me. It has, frankly, long been useless to lecture me.”

Ivan’s tone changed. Where he showed patience before he exchanged it now for bitterness. He was too old to be lectured on anything any more, especially as he thought the lecturer to be a hypocrite on that matter.

Makarov lowered his head and resigned in agreement. 

“Indeed. Forgive me for having let you down at a time when I still had the chance to reach you. Now, all I can do is prevent damage to others…”

“Tsk. Do you even have the guts-”

“Yes.” Makarov interrupted his son decidedly. “I watched you and your schemes for long enough and I should have done this much sooner. Listen well for I am saying this only once.”

Makarov underlined the weight of his words with an unwavering, direct look into his son’s dark eyes.

“Ivan, CEASE your training this instant. Do not take your responsibility for your son’s well-being lightly…  if this continues in any shape or form, you will have no place to return to. Neither guild nor family.”

It was Ivan who looked away, focusing his gaze on Laxus. He couldn’t imagine Makarov to pull through with his threat. His father’s love for him made him weak and he always skirted around serious punishment before. So why would he do it now?

============================================

Ivan had seen enough. Laxus was still not ready yet and there was no point in watching his son any longer for today. He got up from the tree trunk and sighed heavily.

“It’s been a couple of days and you still haven’t destroyed that dummy. When you said you had chipped it, I thought we’d see you perform the final blow today… looks like I was mistaken. Time for me to get back to work.”

With alarm Laxus’s eyes darted over to the moving figure. He had sweat pouring down his body and bend forwards a bit to rest his hands on his knees. The dummy in front of him had nothing but a few new scratches.

“No, Dad, wait!”, gasped the young boy desperately. “I just need… ONE more try… and then I can go with you.”

“Hmm? I really can’t waste any more time here, Laxus. You are still too weak.”

Ivan graced his son with a look of disapproval, then turned and walked away, ignoring Laxus’s further pleas. He heard moans from behind him and thought for a moment that Laxus had started to cry again, so he focused on his own mind to distract himself. He had imagined that the intense desire to be strong and at his side would accelerate Laxus’s development, particularly since they had to meet in secret like this. Instead, despite the initial incredible pace, Laxus slowed down again. Is it possible that the cap Makarov is trying to put on the boy dampered the effectiveness of their training? He should try and send Laxus along some jobs with the others to encourage him to--

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Ivan’s thoughts were harshly interrupted by an intense scream coming from behind him. He turned around instantly and looked back to the small clearing where Laxus had been standing a moment ago. Now he was down on the floor, jerking in visible pain. The continuous groans of agony drew him back very quickly. What on earth had happened? Was a stray, uncontrolled discharge of the lacrima able to bring Laxus down like this?

Lightning still sparked forth from the writhering boy and forced Ivan to approach with caution. He noticed the red blood on Laxus’s face, hands and hair and searched his pockets for something to cover the wound with. As he found nothing, his hands untied the knot of his cravat and folded it down to a smaller, double layered cloth.

Ivan knelt down besides Laxus and reached out to touch him by the shoulder but he withdrew his hand instantly. “Argh!” An electric spark shot through his body as he made direct contact with Laxus’s bare skin. Ivan gritted his teeth and tried to push Laxus onto his back once more anyway. This time the magical electricity was tolerable. The boy’s groans turned into weak sobs and his body grew limb as the effects of the sudden discharge ebbed down.

Ivan now gently lifted the protective hand covering Laxus’s face. He held the cloth ready but the moment he saw what was underneath, Ivan knew this was going to be some permanent damage. And a certain someone would NOT like this.

“Damn.”

======================= END PART 2

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Alter

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff.

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Thank you @agniavateira​ for helping me with this :) It is massively appreciated. 

Henry Cavill Master List

This was it.

Years of waiting.

Years of heartache, joy, and more love than he knew was possible.

Henry sighed and rubbed his hands against his slacks, licking his lips nervously, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Oh god. Oh god! He bent forward, fighting the urge to vomit. Why the fuck was he so nervous? It's not like this was anything new. He'd been madly in love with her for years, even when they weren't together he had held some sort of twisted hope for this very day.

Not to be that man, but Henry had been somewhat in love with her from the first week he'd met her. All of those years ago, some days it felt like an entirely different life.

“Dad,” Ivan laid his hand on Henry's arm.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Uncle Charlie?” His blue eyes watched his father with great concern.

All morning the house had been consumed in chaos. Henry had taken up residence in the office, at the opposite end of the house from where Nell had been getting ready upstairs. His brothers – and Nell's, fathers, mothers, Ivan, and Kal had been in and out of the room a hundred and one times. Until his mother had the sense to ask them all to get out. With the exception of his best man and his dog.

Henry was thankful for the bit of silence, before the actual ceremony.  Evidently he wasn't hiding his nerves as well as he had hoped to.

“No, wild boy, I'm fine. Thank you.” Henry forced a smile to ease his son's worries. “Have you seen your mum?” Henry hadn't set eyes on her since this morning, when he was woken by Ivan jumping on their bed and urging his dad to hurry downstairs.

Ivan smirked, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly. He had never seen her look so pretty, he may have even cried a little. “Dad, she looks like a princess! But without all the stupid frills and no singing mice.”

Henry laughed at Ivan's details. Leave it to Ivan.

With some tradition, Henry had yet to see the dress that Nell had picked. His only hint had been that it wasn't a traditional wedding dress, although she was confident he would love it all the same. She was head over heels for her dress. The delicate blue and white beading at the top gave way to a flowing emerald satin skirt. She'd found it while looking for bride's maid dresses.

Since they were getting married in their own garden, Nell felt that a relaxed look would be acceptable. Besides, she had no interest in putting on a big poofy, over the top dress, only to take it off an hour later and never wear it again.

Unconfirmed, Henry had a sneaky suspicion that her dress in some way matched the attire she had found for him. Nell had convinced him to go with a dark green waistcoat and slacks,  who was Henry to argue. She had been dressing him long enough to know what he would look good in. Ivan looked adorable in his matching attire.

A soft knock on the door, with something mumbled through from the hall, indicated that it was time for Henry, his best man, and his dog to take post in the garden.

“Coming,” Ivan called back, smiling like the cat who'd found the canary.  

“Kal,” Henry whistled, the big dog lifting his head and huffing. Slowly standing with a yawn, Kal licked his lips and sauntered over to big Henry shaking his head. This silly blue bow tie that they had put on him was beginning to get in the way of a good nap. “Come on, bear. It's time to roll.”

“Dad,” Ivan walked beside Henry, his hands in his pockets.

“Yes?”

“Are you happy to be marrying mum?”

“I have no words to tell you how happy I am, wild boy.” Henry beamed. “Are you happy about this?”

“I guess,” Ivan shrugged and smiled. “If it makes you and mum happy. Why not?”

“Always the supportive one,” Henry rolled his eyes, chuckling at Ivan's passive demeanor.

The groomsmen looked smart, well put together, and turned out better than Henry could have imagined. Ivan stood straight, his hair styled to match his dad's, with Kal at his side. One bride's maid, then two, a third, then fourth, by the fifth Henry was again feeling like he was going to vomit. Deep breaths. Hands sweaty, he wished he'd asked to see Nell before hand. He would have been able to tell her how spectacular she looked while crying like a baby, in private.

No use wishing for that now.

As the music began, he could feel his hands shake. Kal whimpered beside Ivan and nudged his nose into Ivan's side, moving him closer to Henry. Smiling at his dad, Ivan reached out, taking his hand.

Nell had spent the morning fretting over every tiny detail of her day. Was her hair the right way, her make up as she had sampled? Did her dress fit and fall the exact way it had the moment she'd fell in love with it? Would Henry be pleased? Would he be as shaky as her? Crying and trying to catch breath.

More than once, Nell had felt like she was being sat on by an elephant. Only to be filled with sudden excitement and wanting to scream in pure delight. Her sister and mother had barely left her side since she'd woken. Ivan had come barreling into the room before dawn, jumping on the bed and shouting for Henry to get out. Leave it to their son.

Her father had assured her that Henry looked every bit dashing and handsome as she had wished. Perhaps more, now that she saw him in his perfect wedding suit. They couldn't have planned this better. The weather was amazing, for a mid November day. Nell had worked hard on her garden, since they'd moved in a few months ago, making sure it was perfect for the day.

“How is your dad?” She'd asked Ivan a few hours ago.

A mischievous grin, the wild boy shrugged. “He looks like a prince, but without the stupid Disney animation.”

Cheeky. Like his father.

Taking her father's arm, Nell inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her hands trying to steady the bouquet that she held in her left hand. Around her the music began to play, when asked about music for the ceremony Nell had casually mentioned how cool it would be to have an instrumental version to one of her favourite songs. What she hadn't been expecting was Henry to deliver.  One bride's maid...two...She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry before she got down the aisle.

“Deep breath, Nelly.” Walt winked gently patting her hand. Nell nodded and smiled. “You're going to knock him dead, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, dad.” Her voice barely cracked above a whisper.

“Ready?” Walt looked at his youngest, smiling wide.

A slight nod, Nell took her first step forward, humming to the music to soothe her. The distance from the back door of the house to where Henry waited in the garden was exactly 152 steps, at the pace she would be going. She had practiced a time or two, while she had been home alone – using Kal as a stand in for Henry. In the garden a few chairs were placed, along with a delicate arrangement of lights. Who would have thought she'd be able to pull this all together in less than four full months.

60 people, all who were close and meaningful, around the garden to share in the day. Nell could feel the tears welling. At the end of the meticulous stone walkway, Henry stood with Ivan clutching his hand. Neither one of them did a very good job at keeping the tears at bay. Ivan reached up, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat trying not to sob loudly.

Ivan had been right when he'd said Princess. Nell was somehow more spectacular than Henry had imagined. Walter stopped, giving Nell a kiss on the cheek and Ivan a quick wink. Stepping forward to meet his bride, Henry let out a breath and a low whistle.

“Thank you,” He gave his father in law to be a quick nod.

Muttering back a quick congratulations, Walt took his seat in the front next to his waiting wife. Kal leapt forward a little greeting Nell with an affectionate “boof!”.

“Kal, sit.” Ivan quickly hushed the big dog.

Giving the couple a quick moment to sort themselves, Michael smiled and patiently stood. Henry had asked him to marry them, off the cuff, since he and Nell couldn't agree on anyone else to do the job. A soft laugh from the crowd when Kal tried to wiggle free from Ivan, again.

Ignoring the bit of commotion around him, Henry was lost in the sight before him. The soft, gentleness was Nell through and through.

“Oh, my darling.” Henry cooed, holding her hand tightly. Kissing the back of her hand, he smiled warmly. “You look,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You,” he sniffled. “Janelle, my darling.”

“Dad,” Ivan nudged him with his elbow in the back, Kal contained by his uncle beside him. “Tell her she's pretty! Don't just stand around and cry.”

A camera flashed and a few chuckles filled the air, from those close enough to hear Ivan's commentary. Rolling his eyes, Ivan sighed and gently shook his head. Adults.

“Shush, you.” Henry chuckled at Ivan, tears on his cheeks. “Nelly, you are...wow. Absolutely wow!”

“I love you,” Nell smiled, kissing his cheek. “And you, wild boy” she peeked at Ivan, “stop teasing him.”

“I love you all, and I hate to rush this moment, because you look fantastic.” Michael shook his head, trying to stop his own flood of tears, his baby sister looked absolutely stunning. “But...” He gestured to the crowd.

Nell giggled and Henry laughed. “Of course, of course.”

“I love you,” Nell mouthed quickly to her big brother.

Reciting vows that they had written for one another, exchanging their rings, and listening as Michael recited some words about love and marriage – no doubt something he had found when he went online to become ordained, Nell couldn't help herself as she became lost watching Henry. A time or two she had heard their guest chuckle, which prompted her to giggle along. Words lost to her, as she admired the man before her.

The crinkles on his eyes, the soft dimples when he smiled, or the smoothness of his voice when he read her the vows he'd written. God she had been so lucky.

“You are now husband and wife.” Michael happily announced, “Henry, I know she's my sister, but...this once I'll encourage you to kiss her.” he teased, slapping Henry's shoulder. Everyone sharing in their happiness.

Rolling his eyes, in typical Cavill fashion, Ivan groaned as his parents stood in front of everyone kissing like a couple of teenagers. His uncle shielding his eyes, Ivan giggled loudly. Thanking him for the help. He was bound to have nightmares over that kiss. Gross!

Kal wiggled and bounced on his leash, trying to convince whoever had a hold of him that he could be a good boy. He had spotted a squirrel earlier, on the east side of the house, in his duty of wedding dog, he didn't have a chance to properly investigate.

Around them people clapped, cheering the happy couple as they turned to face their guests, for the first time, as husband and wife. Nell wiped a few more tears away, sniffling. Henry smiled softly, his swiping his thumbs across her cheeks.

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan broke their moment, gently tugging at Nell's arm.

“Yes?”

“I love you. And I think you look really pretty. I told dad you looked like a princess, but I don't think he believed me.”

“I didn't say that.” Henry rolled his eyes, taking Nell's hand to step forward to join the guests waiting to mingle and personally congratulate the couple.

“You two are something else.” Laughing, Nell snagged Ivan gently pulling him into a hug. Kissing the top of his head, he was nearly as tall as her. Catching her mother's eye, she smiled, “I think they're waiting for us.”

“Do we have to take photos?” Ivan groaned, walking beside his parents, glancing around to see where Kal had gone off to. As best man his duty was to see his dad didn't freak out and to keep Kal out of trouble.

“Only a few, then we're having lunch and you are free to do whatever you want, for the day.” Nell instructed. “It won't be that bad. We're taking some photos here, so we don't even have to leave.”

She had opted to do as much as she could at their house, the property allowed for space to set up and still have room to wander off a little. If one didn't want to be directly in the crowd, they were welcome to take a walk around the few paddocks and wander down the small lane.

This was certainly not the lavish and large wedding that one would expect from a well known celebrity. Henry had snorted and groaned when Nell had informed him, a few days ago, that people were speculating about their upcoming wedding. The only people who mattered were those invited, as far as Henry was concerned. They had made a proper announcement about their engagement a few weeks ago, although their family and friends had known days after they had initially discussed it.

“Don't forget, tomorrow morning Bridie and Joe are coming round to take you for the afternoon.” Henry chose now to remind his son of his former Nanny's visit. “And you owe Sophie a dance.”

“I won't forget.” Ivan had been waiting weeks to see his friends from his former life in Ireland. He had marked off the days on a calendar in his room, even. He was excited not only for a party, but to see those he missed and didn't often see with his parents' work schedule.

“And you, Mrs. Cavill.” Henry winked, “Need to be ready by noon, tomorrow.”

“I will be, but I wish you'd tell me where we were going.” Nell pouted.

Henry had set up a four day escape to Rome, since they would be traveling for The Witcher press in a couple of weeks the honeymoon would be short. They had agreed to take Ivan along for the press tour, spending a few weeks together as a family. Between interviews and appearances. Easier said than done. But Henry wanted them with him, it would be nice to retire to a hotel room and have his family.

“Sorry, no can do. But I have things packed for you, Sadie helped me. I will tell you this, you're going to love it.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Fine,” Nell sighed. “Since you're not going to tell me, shall we go around to the front and find the photographer? Before our mothers come over here.”

More than once, she had spotted their mothers watching, allowing them a few moments alone as husband and wife. Yet, keeping track of time.

“You're right, let's go around.”

The Cavill and Stewart clan were vast. Multiple siblings, spouses, and children. Trying to wrangle everyone, Kal included, into one or two large group photos had been a task. Nell was glad that the photographer was gracious and understanding. Attempting to get that many people in a space and all looking the same direction, succeeding in the second try – miracle or possibly witch craft. Nell wasn't sure, but she was in awe.

Henry's favourite photos would no doubt be the ones of his own little family. The three – four with Kal – of them together, happy and content. Nell sighed and shook her head, when Henry and Ivan went about their usual antics. Nobody else was bound to have a photo of their husband with their son thrown over his shoulder, while their giant dog jumped up trying to get in on the playfulness.

After photos and lunch, as promised, Nell gave Ivan the go ahead to do as he pleased. As long as he didn't retreat to the den and spend all day playing video games with his cousins. He had to still be around, if needed for more wedding activities. Like watching people Ooh and Awe over silly things. Did that many people need to cry over his parents dancing? His dad often looked like a wounded duck, although it never stopped him. Ivan could watch his parents dance to that nauseating Thomas Rhett song any time. His dad said it perfectly described how he felt about his life.

Whatever.  After his dance with Sophie, who he was gaining height on, he disappeared with a couple of Henry's nephews and Kal. As long as they didn't set anything on fire, they were allowed to roam and play on the property.

After a dance or two, Henry and Nell agreed to split ways for the moment. Mingling and enjoying their guests. It would be rude of them not to engage. Taking a little break, Nell stood at the back of the garden, enjoying the last bit of warmth from the day before the cool evening set in. She'd hugged, kissed, and thanked so many people that her head was beginning to swim a little.

“Has anyone told you that you look an absolute vision,” Nell's older sister, Sadie, approached extending her arms and embracing her little sister, kissing her cheek.

“I have heard that a time or two, but I think they were only saying it to be polite.” Nell winked and laughed. Gently fanning herself with her hand, it was far from warm outside, but the commotion was enough to make anyone sweat a little. Fanning herself, she blew out a breath, her cheeks hurting from all of the smiling. How could she not? If there was ever a day to walk around with a perma-smile, it was today.

“Let me guess, Hen can't stop complimenting you.” Sadie teased.

“He's said it a few times, too.” Winking, Nell beamed.

“You know, Nelly,  I'm just happy that you are happy. Cliche, yes, but as your big sister that is my job.” Squeezing her sister's hand, Sadie smiled fondly “It hasn't been easy, but what good romance is?”

“Looking back, I think we had to grow and excuse the corny, if it's yours then you need to let it go.” Nell shrugged, stealing a quick glance at Henry across the garden. Standing with one of their guests, chatting happily. “Had we not been apart, I don't think I would have realized or appreciated how much I need him. Or how much I love him.”

Henry had asked her to marry him several times in the past, getting shot down each and every one. Looking back, had she agreed, surely they would have been facing divorce by now. At the very least angry and bitter with one another, trapped in a loveless marriage with kids they resented as much as they did one another.

Life worked out for a reason.

“Sweetie,” Sadie hugged her sister, holding her tightly. “I'm so glad this worked out, because honestly, I can't think of anyone better for you. He loves you, so much.”

Hugging her sister tightly, Nell sniffled, trying to hold back another flood of emotions. Thankful, when she heard Henry gently clearing his throat, asking to steal his bride away for a moment. Hugging him as tightly as she did Nell; Sadie smiled waving them along.

“So, Mr. Cavill, what's the urgent task?” Nell linked her arm in his, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Don't be mad,” Henry smirked, glancing around, nobody seemed to notice them escaping. “I wanted to have a moment with my wife, nobody else around.” He chuckled when Nell looked up, she'd been following his footsteps allowing him to lead her.

Around the other side of the garden, she giggled and hugged his arm tightly. “You rascal. Leading me astray, well I'll be.” She joked.

“I love you,” He whispered, kissing her temple.

“I love you, too.” Nell smiled, leaning into him. “So, this is it huh? Married life?”

“It looks like,” Henry beamed.

“I'm glad you accepted my proposal. Despite how awkward it was.”

“I would have been crazy not to, my darling.” Kissing her softly, Henry sighed happily. “I feel as though we've barely seen one another today. Would it be rude to say good night and sneak upstairs?”

An advantage and disadvantage to spending their wedding night at home. They could call it an evening anytime they wanted, but then it felt forced and rude. As if demanding guests to leave, which is not what they had intended. Nell had made it very clear that she wanted people to stay and enjoy, having car service to take people wherever they needed to go after.

“It's only 7pm.” Nell smiled, leaning into Henry, shivering slightly. “Do you really want to go in?”

Smiling mischievously, Henry wrinkled his nose. “Maybe? Is it wrong that this is our wedding night, but all I can think about is going to bed and snuggling with you?”

“Snuggling?”

“Among doing other things.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Glancing around, Nell furrowed her brow. A few spots had fresh dirt and Kal tracks. “Have you seen Kal lately?”

“He was with mum and Simon.”

“Hmm, well before we do anything tomorrow. We need to fix these flower beds. Someone found another squirrel it seems.”

Laughing, Henry looked at Nell for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “You are something else, my darling wife.”

“What? The dog tore apart my garden, I can't leave here with them looking like...”

“Nell, we can worry about that tomorrow. I can have Ivan and dad fix them, if you want. Or we can hire someone. I can't allow you to spend the morning of your honeymoon gardening. Which, by the way, I think we should discuss.”

“That top secret honeymoon? Are you going to tell me where we're going?”

Henry shook his head. “No, but I will tell you that it's been a while since we've been there, together,” Nell frowned. That could be just about anywhere. “We land and check in, then I have dinner reservations. The next morning, late morning, because I intend to keep you in the room as long as possible.” He bit hit bottom lip, “I have made us a booking for a couple's massages and then...”

“You have this all planned don't you?” Henry nodded, Nell winked, “what if I don't want a massage? What if I want to stay in our hotel the entire time and...”

“But we did that last time, this time...” Henry paused, eyes wide. Shit.

“Are you taking me to Rome?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to. I think you gave it away pretty well. The only other place we've stayed in a hotel the entire time was the second trip to Jersey. Unless we're honeymooning in Jersey. Which if we are, I am fine with that, but Rome? Oh my god, Henry! Ugh, I love you! I love you. I love you! That is the perfect honeymoon.” Nell bounced eagerly, and she wondered where Ivan got it.

“I suppose you would have found out at the airport, anyway.” He teased, “So? You really like it?”

“Oh my god, of course! Henry! This is amazing. I could not have picked a better place.” She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “You are a fantastic husband. Have I told you that, today?”

“I don't know that I am as fantastic as my wife, but I certainly try.”

Take Us Home – Alan Doyle, is the song I had in mind for Nell’s entrance 

Blessed - Thomas Rhett is their first dance 

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3

a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!

anon:

may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺

CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o

OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS

to be honest, it was,,, unexpected

you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike

going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead

you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner

your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss

when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to

however

he tossed it to no one

instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball

it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor, 

it was too late

the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed

your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym

then it finally hit you

‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest

‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team

the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck

‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’

you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding

‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’

he choked out 

‘OIKAWA!’

the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game

the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in

iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him

you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist

‘it’s not a dream, right?’

he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face

‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’

you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy

for years theyve tried

and now, they succeeded

well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?

hmm,,, maybe the honor of going

but the other players??

oh god

it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager

it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before

uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess

oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his

‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’

seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals

they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys

hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors

‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’

oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly

‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’

iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand

but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents

as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you

again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them

they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh

however, oikawa seemed to know them

‘ah’

he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look

‘ara? fresh blood?’

you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him

 ‘excuse us’

he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly

‘oh sangwoo?’

KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY

watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like

and he raised an eyebrow in interest

‘hm? you called?’

another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain

but he didnt let off yet

as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear

‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’

ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS

kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself

‘she has name, fcker’

atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up

‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’

YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS

osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa

‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’

oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face

‘eh? best setter?’

you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again

the locker room was actually the same back home

but kindaichi was sobbing again

‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’

you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner

oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain

‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’

oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips

‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’

mattsun shrugged

‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’

iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes

‘he reeked nasty! gross!’

makki agreed

‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’

they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word

but,,,,

what can you expect from star-struck players?

maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream

‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’

they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles

thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you

‘oh? baby girl?’

you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave

‘chibi? hey?’

he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side

atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him

the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you

‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’

he,,, apologized?

but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’

'miya-san, hello’

you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped

he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?

usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next

‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’

if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu

you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him

‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’

you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary

were you,,, threatening him?

atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words

then he laughed

a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute

‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’

wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!

he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell

you just stood there 🧍‍♀️ 

‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’

‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’

he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised

‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’

‘wait’

he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest

‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’

you rolled your eyes

‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’

you tilted your head with a crooked smile 

were you,,, playing hard to get?!

atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased

‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’

he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket

‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’

even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them

oh my god hes in love with you

he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again

‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’

ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger

you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward

‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’

your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers

‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’

you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you

‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’

‘fate?’

this time, you chuckled, head leaning down

and as you looked back up, your heart stopped

by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes

oh dear

your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile

they,, were now happy

‘fate, you say’

you mumbled distractedly

‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’

atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look

‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’

you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope

atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged

‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’

he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed

‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’

you wondered out loud

atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you

‘chibi-chan?’

he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile

‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’

you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling

‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’

he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips

‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’

a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this

a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3

a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link