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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

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— THE PROPHECY

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!Reader

SUMMARY — After failing to protect your tribe, its members leave you behind to die according to your customs. When Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen finds you, he immediately knows you are a daughter of the desert that was promised to him in the prophecy. Just like you were promised a man from the stars to come for you.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I changed the request a little and I hope it's fine – I just had this idea and I really wanted to write it but the request itself inspired it! 💛 By the way, this request was sent in April... 🙈 I am so ashamed of myself and it's not even the only request like that because I still have one left to write with Feyd... Please, do forgive me... 🙏🏻 I know nothing about Fremen customs and I didn't bother to Google them because I had this idea in my head and I liked it so I didn't want to change it either way. Therefore, keep in mind that I treat The Fremen culture pretty loosely here. Reader is a Princess (I don't think they have royalty at all in canon), she has ritual tattoos on her body (not as many as Lady Jessica but still) and she has blue eyes from the spice (which is not even mentioned I think 🤔) but other than that I did not describe anything about her looks.

WARNINGS — mentions of slavery, mentions of sexual activities including non/dub-con (no actual smut), mentions of suicide, Reader gets beaten up badly in the beginning by The Harkonnen soldiers

WORD COUNT — 4,200

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE PROPHECY

In other worlds, noble families had all the possible privileges alongside the burden of responsibilities. In other worlds, Princesses were spoiled and insufferable creatures who had all their whims and wishes fulfilled. But it was no other world – it was a cruel and harsh Arrakis. It was a hot desert filled with nothing but sand and spice and your tribe expected that your parents would help them to survive – no matter what price.

Everyone had the same duty to keep the rest alive – your father, your mother and even you, a simple Princess. The Fremen were not rich, therefore you were wearing the same clothes as everyone else. But even if you tried to blend in with the crowd, everyone would recognise you because of the ritual tattoos covering your skin. The noble blood was nothing but poison running through your veins – it was unwanted. Every failure was blamed upon you and you would drink the collected water as the last because your job was to make sure your tribe would live.

You had lost your mother first, even before the new Harkonnen invasion and the oppression of The Atreides. But your father died recently, in the very same ruins where your tribe left you to die in the ashes and heat before they attempted to run away. You were their Princess and your family had failed to protect them – the tough custom was to leave you behind and let the desert take care of you. It would either swallow you whole or you would prove yourself by digging yourself out.

But in this case – it was leaving you behind for The Harkonnens to find you and take care of you. It was worse than death in the desert. Perhaps their ways of murder were quicker and more sophisticated but they were unnatural. You were a Fremen and if you were to die, you wanted to do it by slowly decaying in the sand.

“Mercy… Mercy…” You begged quietly in Chakobsa language when they found out that the body laying amongst the ruins was still alive and breathing.

One of the Harkonnen soldiers pulled you up by your hair and you could see them all through hazy eyes, in their black uniforms covering their unhealthy pale white skin.

“That bitch is alive,” one of them drawled out. “Are you going to talk?” He leaned in to ask you but you didn’t answer. You had no physical strength to answer him but also no spiritual motivation to keep going.

You were already prepared to die and you felt so indifferent that their punches and kicks did not bring you any pain at all. They dragged you by your hair and bruised your skin, they threatened you and cut you in a few places but with each drop of blood, you also felt your life leaking out of your body and what a sweet relief it was.

You were lying curled up on the ground and completely lost track of time. You could have been there for centuries, long hours or mere minutes only. You had absolutely no idea. You only waited for death to finally release you from this life and from the endless sands of Arrakis.

Your dream was to fly – fly away and see other worlds. See the worlds with greenery and water. To breathe in the fresh air and to be invisible in the crowd, to no longer be a Princess.

Or to simply disappear. That option was not so bad either. Everything was better than this life, certainly.

For now, they left you alone and proceeded to ruin the temple around you. And some part of you grieved this loss of your culture but the other part had no love for it anymore because you couldn’t care less at this point and because this world and these people had brought you nothing but pain and oppression. You loved and hated the Fremen equally.

Perhaps The Harkonnens had left you alone to regenerate before they’d start kicking and beating you again. Perhaps they would let you die in peace – that was doubtful, though. Perhaps they thought you were already dead but you were sure they did not because they were very committed to their art of killing.

When you heard heavy steps approaching you and their muffled voices explaining something to the man who had just arrived, you realised that they had been simply waiting for someone more important. And he was probably the one who would bring death to you. You tried to open your eyelids at least a little to see the face of your killer as you prayed quietly for a painless death even though you knew very well that no gods were listening to you. No gods would listen in a destroyed temple anyway.

The gods were angry and their anger was always aimed at people like you – the noble Fremen who hadn’t managed to keep their people safe. You were doomed in this life and in the afterlife. There was no escape.

The man who had just walked inside the cave in which you were lying had an intriguing face because he was quite handsome for a Harkonnen. He had to be someone important, too, because his clothes were more elegant. He even had a cape attached to his stillsuit.

“Spy. Left behind,” one of his soldiers informed him and the man finally looked down and spotted you.

You bravely kept looking at him even though you knew already that painless death would be no option from his hands. You even straightened yourself up, slowly and gritting your teeth because you didn’t want to hiss out of pain and give them any satisfaction. Now, you were on your knees.

“No trace of the others,” the soldier explained.

“They’ve gone South to hide in the storms,” the new man commented and his voice made a shiver go down your spine and formed a knot in your stomach. There was something extremely eerie about him in a way that no ordinary Harkonnen could match. He was evil and twisted – even his voice was.

He was given a blade and he examined it as you were examining him, trying to figure him out even though it was pointless since it was the last minute of your life, most likely. Yet, stupid human brain always had to be kept entertained, always needed a distraction – even in a time like this.

“Send this message to The Baron,” the man commanded. “The North is liberated and secure. Harvest spice at will,” he looked back at you as if he was trying to mock you or tease you – so unaware how much you simply did not care anymore.

If it was up to you, you would blow up the whole planet. You would wipe Arrakis out of every galactic map.

“Yes, Na-Baron,” the man behind him bowed his head and then you realised that the demon in front of you was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself.

It was quite ironic – he was of noble blood, too. Perhaps it would be an honour to be killed by him if you were a simple girl but you were not. Maybe it was a small mercy of the gods – a small, ironic smile. Yes, they would bring death now but at least your murderer was your equal and not a common Harkonnen scum.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly, clenching his jaw and your own sore muscles tensed, expecting another kick or a blow or things much, much worse. You just kept sitting there and looking up at him, too weak to even beg for mercy anymore.

And you didn’t want to either.

“She won’t talk,” another soldier of his told him and Feyd-Rautha tilted his head.

After a short while of silence, he crouched down in front of you and he tore a part of your stillsuit off of your body, revealing your arm and one side of your chest. You made no attempt to hide away from him or to yell for him to stop because you knew it would not help you in any way and it would only cost you even more of your dignity.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed body and stood up again.

“She is their Princess,” he pointed out loud. “Her marks give her away,” he added. “She is no spy. She was left to die as a punishment of her tribe.”

You were surprised how much he knew about your customs. Feyd-Rautha turned around to look at you again.

“I do not care about the Fremen traditions,” he informed you. “You will go with me,” he ordered.

You were too weak to move, of course. When two of his soldiers forced you to move up as they dragged you by your hair, you fell down on the ground. They kept forcing you up again and again, until you completely lost consciousness.

A man from the stars.

You were a young girl again or perhaps you were a visitor in your old memory because you could see yourself sitting there, inside the dark cave deep under the temple with a Reverend Mother and a few other veiled Bene Gesserit women. A young girl with tears still in the corners of her eyes from the painful ritual of marking her body with the black ink. She had just become a Princess and she already knew it was a path of pain and sacrifice. Now, she had been tested with Gom Jabbar – another suffering filling this small body of a little girl. She hadn’t asked for any of this.

“A man from the stars,” the Reverend Mother said to her. A prophecy.

“What about him?” The girl asked, wiping her tears away with the palm of her hand, forgetting that they were sensitive now. The tears burnt her freshly-inked skin and she hissed. Bene Gesserit women smiled contemptuously. It was the Princess’ punishment for shedding tears and wasting water.

“He will come for you,” The Reverend Mother found her eyes through all the chains in her veil. Little girl felt a chill going down her spine at those words and she was not sure whether it was a promise or a threat.

She never told her parents about this prophecy and soon she forgot about it anyway. She grew up to be too big to believe in fairytales.

When you opened your eyes again, you gasped and sat up rapidly as the water splashed all around you. You looked down, terrified, and realised that you were naked inside a bathtub, surrounded by a few terrified maids who had moved away at the sight of you awakening.

“Wh-what is happening?” You asked them. Some of them were clearly Harkonnen with their white skin, big black eyes and bald heads. Some of them were Fremen slaves but they were not from your tribe because you couldn’t recognise any of them.

“Na-Baron asked us to clean you up and take care of your wounds, my Lady,” the Harkonnen maid informed you. She was not sure how to address you but you couldn’t care less about that. What shocked you the most was…

“Water!” You yelped and tried to get out of the bathtub although you were too weak to do so. “You are wasting water!”

“We have more than enough water here in the palace,” the Fremen slave woman told you and you calmed yourself down although you couldn’t help but feel angry about the injustice.

Of course they had water in the Arrakeen’s palace. The Harkonnens, The Atreides… People like them never suffered – even in a place like this.

You allowed the maids to go back to cleaning you up. When you were as fresh as never before, you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror. Even your skin looked a shade paler because it was no longer stained with the sand. Your hair was shining and the skilled hands of one of the maids braided it before your wounds were patched up and your body was covered with a semi-transparent dress. It was very feminine and quite revealing and the colours were all hues of orange.

“Na-Baron wishes to see you now, my Lady,” one of the maids bowed her head at you and two other maids took you by your arms to help you walk down the corridor to join Feyd-Rautha since you were still too weak to walk.

He was sitting by the big table that was filled with so much food you had never seen in your life. The colourful fruit filled with juice and water made your mouth drool.

The maids let go of your arms to bow down in front of him. You did not bow down but he did not comment. He had his legs placed up there on the table’s surface and he smirked at you, beckoning you over with his finger.

“Come, Princess,” he mocked your title and you limped towards him. “Leave us,” he ordered the maids and they left the room with their heads kept low out of fear and respect.

You finally reached the table and you grasped the edge of it for support as you moved even closer to Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You were not scared of him because you were not scared of death anymore and his title did not intimidate you because you were of noble blood, too – even though in his eyes you had to be a dirty savage anyway.

His face fascinated you because it was so unnaturally beautiful in a way that no Harkonnen should be. But still, you kept staring at his face with nothing but pure hatred.

“You must be starving,” he pointed out at the chair nearby. “Treat yourself.”

“Thank you,” you drawled out through your gritted teeth and took the seat, too hungry to dismiss such an offer.

You were devouring a grapefruit, allowing its sticky juice to run down your chin when Feyd-Rautha put his legs back on the floor and leaned in over the table to take a closer look at you.

“What do they call you, Princess?” He asked in a low, raspy whisper. “Have my men hurt you badly?”

“(Y/N),” you answered and looked deep into his eyes, showing him that you were not scared of him. “I can handle that.”

“That is a pretty name for a strong woman,” he commented. “You will be my slave,” he said casually and leaned back on the chair.

You didn’t know what to say to this, really. You knew that protesting was foolish – you didn’t want to lose the opportunity to keep your stomach full and it was obvious from the beginning that he hadn’t brought you to the palace as a guest anyway. Still, it felt wrong to quietly accept such a fate.

“I am no maid,” you only said.

“Not like that,” Feyd-Rautha smirked. “Not a maid. A special slave,” he explained but you kept staring at him in silence, killing him with your gaze only. He found it amusing as he chuckled. “You know, Princess, you are a daughter of the desert,” he pointed his finger at you and you raised your eyebrow at him. “I was told by a Bene Gesserit witch that a daughter of the desert would give me a strong heir who shall inherit the Empire. The Harkonnen and Fremen bloodline could not be further apart and that is why mixed together they will create the most powerful species of men. An ultimate man,” Feyd-Rautha explained.

“You are the man from the stars,” you mumbled out, feeling weird with the fact that your prophecy had been true, after all.

Feyd-Rautha was taken aback by your question and he had no idea what it meant but you did not feel like explaining.

“You want me to be your whore. You want me to push out your heirs but they will not be any powerful, ultimate beings, Na-Baron. They will be pure chaos. That is the only thing that can ever come out of our bloodlines mixed together,” you pointed out harshly. “You poison my world, you oppress my people, you killed my family. And now you’re asking me to be your concubine.”

“I must have missed the part where I am asking,” Feyd-Rautha clenched his jaw. You were getting him angry and it was nearly funny how spoiled he was that he really had thought you would agree to such a proposition after such a past.

“Kill me,” you requested and put the grapefruit down. “Kill me because I will be no use to you. I will never be your whore and I would rather die than give birth to your sickly bastards.”

“Why are you loyal to the people who left you behind to rot in the sand?” He asked, tilting his head. He was no longer angry but simply curious.

“That is the custom,” you only answered.

Your relationship with your tribe and your world was of a difficult kind but Feyd-Rautha did not need to know about it. He was an intruder, an outsider, an oppressor. He didn’t deserve to know your heart.

“You can’t run away from your prophecy, Princess,” Feyd-Rautha reminded you before leaving the table and leaving you alone inside the room.

When he left, you went back to eating – as much as you could and as fast as you managed. You felt like an animal and a savage indeed but there was no one to witness that desperate act anyway and you could not remember the last time you had something in your mouth.

Feyd-Rautha did not bother you personally but the maids were following you around and even though you were given your own room with a beautiful view of the desert, you were never truly left alone. You had beautiful but pretty humiliating dresses to wear and you were given baths every day which felt like a profanity for a Fremen.

You were well fed but most of the time you were bored. You knew that Na-Baron was awaiting your answer. You just hadn’t been told how much time exactly you had to make a choice.

Choosing death was simple and easy. Choosing to be his slave-concubine meant betraying your people and betraying who you were, even though you had always felt like you did not fit in with the Fremen and you always wanted to leave Arrakis. It had been a distant dream, too foolish and impossible to even be mentioned to anyone. But now, it could be true. As Feyd-Rautha’s new pet that he seemed to already be pretty fond of, you would be able to visit other worlds.

Your prophecy had claimed, after all, that the man from the stars would come for you. His prophecy had claimed that the daughter of the desert would give him a powerful heir. If it was true and you would become a mother of the future Emperor – well, that was quite tempting, indeed. No matter the price.

Staring at the desert behind your window, you were hugging yourself and biting on your lower lip while you were spending your evening overthinking – it had been your only occupation lately.

You had a feeling that this evening Feyd-Rautha would join you because you were left alone by your maids which was unusual. And indeed, a few moments later the doors opened again and he walked inside. His steps were heavy and confident as usual. It would be your first conversation ever since the one after your arrival.

“My Princess,” he greeted you in that harsh voice of his as he stood behind you and put his hands on your arms in quite a gentle but still very possessive manner.

“I have not made my decision yet,” you only said.

“Decision?” Feyd-Rautha was surprised and then he laughed. “You do not get to choose. Do you think I would let you choose death when I know that your womb might give me an heir that has been promised to me in a prophecy?” He lowered his voice and his words sent a chill down your body. His lips were brushing your neck and earlobe and you tried to get away from his grip but he tightened it and you couldn’t do anything about it.

“I should have killed myself,” you drawled out through gritted teeth.

“I suspected you might do so, therefore I ordered the maids to invade your privacy all day and night, my Princess,” he smirked. You could feel his lips curling on your skin.

“I’m going to kill every child you put inside of me,” you threatened.

“You can try,” he kept smirking but his grasp tightened even further.

“I will not be your slave,” you protested and kept shaking your head even though you knew it was pointless.

“Concubine,” Feyd-Rautha tried to convince you as if he really cared for the transaction to go pretty smoothly. And, apparently, he was in a mood to bargain.

“Wife,” you spat out and a long silence occurred. His grip loosened and he took a step back, eyeing you up and down as he let out a deep laugh. You turned your head around to look at him. “I won’t push out bastards,” you stated.

“I have no desire for a wife,” Na-Baron dismissed you.

“And I have no desire for a husband but that is the only way I see it working,” you explained. “Of course you don’t need my permission to do anything with me. You might use me, imprison me to make sure I won’t get rid of your spawn and then you can kill me. But I am not as weak as you think of me, I am a daughter of the desert. I will change your life into hell and I will make you regret every hour, every day until I eventually die but believe me, I will make this time pass by very slowly,” you threatened.

“And why would I want to marry such a woman?”

“Because I have not described a wife. I have described a slave,” you explained. “Do you wish to know what kind of wife I would be?” You raised your eyebrow and took a step further towards him. He seemed to be intrigued as he tilted his head and you smirked to yourself. It seemed to be working – your plan to tempt him and convince him.

You had to secure your future and your position and since he was your oppressor, you felt no guilt about using manipulation to get there.

“You might think of me as lower than you but I am a Princess just like you are a Na-Baron and only our customs differ. Imagine taking me back to your world, your exotic war prize from Arrakis. You can dress me up in those pretty dresses and show me off, swollen with your special heir. I am a savage to the outsiders but couldn’t you turn the tables and make it an advantage? Your wild, savage wife that nobody knows anything about and who everyone fears?” You whispered, seductively.

“I know what you're doing,” Feyd-Rautha breathed out but even though he was aware of you trying to manipulate him, he was visibly giving in anyway. “You’re going to kill me in my sleep,” he added, looking intensely into your eyes and you chuckled at that.

“Perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “But isn’t the prophecy worth the risk?” You asked.

After all, you were sacrificing and risking a lot, too. And it would be only fair if the transaction costed you both the equal amount.

“You are the jewel of Arrakis,” Feyd-Rautha chuckled and raised his hand to undo your braids and watch your hair let loose.

“And you are its poison,” you remarked as he smirked, eyeing you up and down.

“Together, we can rule over the worlds,” he whispered.

“Or destroy them,” you added.

Na-Baron shook his head but the smirk remained on his lips. He found it amusing that you had an answer for everything and how gloomy they all were. However, so far, it was entertaining for him. He brushed your collarbone with his fingertips.

“I surely have more experience in destroying them than I have in ruling over them,” he confessed but the hunger in his eyes was a clear message to you that he did not mean only Arrakis but also women overall.

“Some are too wild to be ruled over and too wild to be destroyed,” you informed him and he found your eyes again after staring at your chest and neck. For the first time, you saw that he was genuinely intrigued. Perhaps he finally saw you as a challenge. A riddle. A savage to tame.

Whatever would keep you alive and in a position of power.

Because no matter how much you were trying to convince yourself that you were ready to die, this life stubbornly seemed to keep you alive and there must have been a purpose in it.

Therefore, you were ready to receive everything this new life had to offer for you now. As if you had died in that temple and now you were given a second chance.

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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wzrd-wheezes · 1 year ago

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The Engagement Arrangement - Sirius Black x Reader/James Potter x Reader.

Hey!!! Can I request an arranged engagement with James because they grew up in wealthy families and they're close friends but as she gets to know the boys better Sirius falls in love with her? Mutual pining with obstacles with be the death of me.

AN: after actual months of writing this fic, it's finally finished. I posted the first part of it months ago but decided to finish the fic and repost it as a complete work. i'm so fucking proud of this and i really hope you enjoy it. this is the longest thing i've ever written so please please please give it a reblog and let me know what you think. ily <3

Contains: some angst, a lot of fluff, pining, swearing and just general good times haha. enjoy!

9k words

The engine of the car hummed quietly causing the window to vibrate as Y/N rested her head against the glass. She fiddled with the hem of her dress as she gazed out of the window, the trees a blur of red and orange as they whizzed past.

“Will you stop fiddling with your dress!” Y/N’s mother snapped, whipping her head around to glare at her daughter, “I won’t have you at the Potter’s house with your dress all creased, what will they think of us!?”

Y/N only murmured in response, barely paying attention to her mother’s nagging as she smoothed her dress out. The car pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway outside of the Potter’s manor. The autumn sunlight beat down on the vast lawns and bounced off of the ornate windows, casting patterns on the driveway. She sighed as she got out of the car, mentally preparing herself for the afternoon at the Potter’s.

Coming to the Potter’s house for lunch wasn’t a frequent occurrence, yet every time their car pulled up outside, Y/N filled with dread. The lunches were alarmingly boring with her parents talking tirelessly with Mr and Mrs Potter. The Potter’s had a son, who Y/N was yet to meet as he attended a boarding school. Y/N’s mother had explained to her that James had been sent to boarding school as he was rather unruly, and they were trying to get him to settle down. However, now that he, like Y/N was 18, had finished school and returned home.

Mrs Potter greeted them graciously at the front door, giving her parents a hug and Y/N a squeeze on the shoulder. She led them into the sitting room and began to bustle around making tea. Y/N perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to avoid crumpling her dress and infuriating her mother again. Just as she had done in the car, Y/N stared out of the window, her eyes drifting over the garden that seemed to sprawl for miles. Leaves floated down from the trees, landing in a pile on the floor before being dispersed by the soft breeze.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Son.” Mr Potter spoke, easy smile resting on his face. Y/N was pulled out of her daydream, her eyes darting towards the door where a young man was standing, leaning lazily against the door frame. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, the top button of his shirt undone and his dark curls falling messily into his eyes.

“Mr and Mrs L/N.” he nodded, “Nice to see you both again.”

“Ah, James.” Y/N’s father exclaimed, “It’s been a while! You must have grown a good few feet taller since we last saw you.”

“My career as a dwarf never really took off so I decided to just let it go.” James joked, earning himself a disapproving look from both of his parents.

“James,” Y/N’s mother swiftly interjected, “You haven’t met our daughter, Y/N. She’s just finished school as well. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.”

“Nice to meet you,” James grinned, stepping into the room and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say. Her mother harshly nudged her leg, urging her to reply.

“Yeah. You as well.”

James plonked himself in the armchair in front of the window that Y/N was previously looking out of. She frowned slightly, annoyed that he was obstructing not only the view but also the distraction from the torturously boring conversation that their parents were having. The two teenagers sat silently, every so often glancing up at each other. One time, James rolled his eyes and mimed putting a gun to his head, Y/N had to try her best to stifle a laugh. Clearly, she didn’t try hard enough as she was shot another one of her mother’s infamous disapproving looks.

“James, dear, why don’t you go and show Y/N around the gardens while we talk? We have some important business to discuss, and it will be terribly boring for you both.” James’ mother suggested. Y/N let out a sigh of relief and eagerly stood up, grabbing her jacket from the coat stand.

For the first few moments, they didn’t speak a word to each other, just silently making their way through the hall towards the large front door, buttoning up their coats as they walked. It was only when they were out of earshot that James finally spoke.

“I didn’t think it was possible to die of boredom, but I genuinely think I was close.” He said dramatically.

“We were only sat in there for half an hour.” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yet it felt like an eternity.”

James pushed open the front door and they were greeted by the crisp autumn air. Their breaths clouded in the chill, damp air and they both wrapped their coats a little tighter around themselves.

“What d’you reckon they’re talking about?” Y/N asked, “What’s so important that we can’t be there to hear them discuss it?” James shrugged, staring up at the cloudless sky.

“Who knows? Probably just boring adult stuff. I tend to just tune it out whenever they start speaking.” Despite his nonchalant response, there was a hint of wistfulness in his expression. It was almost as if the thought of having a genuine adult conversation with his parents seemed utterly foreign and unappealing to him.

“They’re probably just sat moaning about us.” Y/N laughed, “That’s what adults do when they get together, isn’t it? Moan about their children?”

“Nah, not my mum and dad. They genuinely think the sun shines out of my arse.” James chuckled.

“Didn’t they ship you off to boarding school because you were too ‘unruly’” Y/N said, making air quotes with her fingers. James’ cheeks flushed at her comment and he let out an awkward chuckle.

“Yeah, that was a bit of an exaggeration on mum and dad’s behalf. They made it sound like I was some feral child. In reality, I was just a normal kid who liked to have fun.”

Y/N felt a bit guilty for poking fun at him about the boarding school ordeal. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, despite how flippantly he brushed it off.

“They didn’t have to be so dramatic,” James continued, “But it’s all in the past now. I’m back home and everything’s fine,” He shrugged, the smile returning to his face. Y/N wasn’t quite so sure how accurate that statement one.

They chatted as they walked through the gardens, comparing their school experiences, talking about their upbringings and their parents. Y/N felt sad that James had been away for the majority of their childhood, it would have made the many dinners with their parents a lot less painful if she had had someone her own age there to speak to.

The more time that Y/N spent in James’s company, the more she realised just how much they had in common. They had similar senses of humour, enjoyed engaging in sarcastic banter and had a mutual disdain for the social niceties that dominated their families’ get-together. For his part, James enjoyed speaking with Y/N as well. Unlike with the adults in his life, he didn’t have to keep up an exhausting façade. He could be frank with her and didn’t have to worry about offending her with his snarky wit.

The conversation turned back to the topic of their schooling. Y/N described her school life and her friends, while James told stories of pranking students and teacher alike, and generally being a nuisance. James had a twinkle in his eye as he recounted some of his more mischievous antics. It was clear that he had no regrets and was, in fact, quite proud of all the trouble he had gotten into over the years.

“I’m pretty sure I was on my last chance before they got rid of me,” he admitted as they walked back to the house, “In our final year, my friends and I were planning to pull a big stunt during exam week, it would have definitely gotten us kicked out. Only, my friend Peter ended up talking us out of it in the end. Probably for the best.” As he finished speaking a hint of regret crossed his face.

When they finally returned to the house, having been gone a good hour or so, they found their parents still sat in the same spot they were in before they had left. It looked as though time had stood still while they were outside.

“Ah, there you two are! We were just about to send someone out to find you! We really need to talk to you both, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down for a moment.” Mrs Potter smiled. James sighed inwardly and shot Y/N an apologetic look. Just when he had been enjoying himself, their parents’ demands had sent him back to reality.

“We’ve been discussing the future,” Y/N’s father began, “And now you have both finished school we believe it’s time to start making preparations for the future.”

Y/N and James both leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued by what their parents had to say. James let out a nervous chuckle, not sure what Y/N’s father meant by that.

“Preparations for the future?” he repeated, turning to look at his own father, “What do you mean? Like, getting involved in the family business or something?”

“Not particularly.” James’s father said.

“You’re both intelligent, young individuals with bright futures ahead of you. The pair of you both come from good families, and we think it’s time that the two of you started settling down.” Y/N’s mother explained.

Both Y/N and James sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to try and figure out exactly what their parents were talking about.

“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” James asked, not wanting to believe it, “You’re seriously suggesting that at the ripe old age of 18, we get married to each other?” The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully formed the thought.

“That’s ridiculous!” Y/N exclaimed, “You can’t just arrange our romance like we’re some sort of commodity. That’s absurd!” The notion of being forced into a relationship with James with utterly foreign to her, especially since they had only met mere hours ago. Mrs Potter looked at them both with a stern expression.

“This isn’t something that we’ve considered lightly.” she said, in a tone that left no room for argument, “We believe that the two of you will make a wonderful couple, and with time may even grow to love each other.”

“There is much more than that to our proposal,” James’s father said solemnly, “It’s not just about romance. In this particular case, settling down is more about stability.”

James and Y/N just stared at each other, feeling the full weight of their parents’ decision bearing down on their shoulders.

“But what about what we want?” James snapped, gesturing to the two of them.

“At the end of the day, this isn’t about what you want.” Mr Potter shook his head, “This is about your families and their futures, not just your own selfish desires.”

The statement hit both of them hard, and for a moment, the two teenagers were completely stunned. Their own family was more important than their own happiness, their own dreams. The harsh reality of their situation slowly began to sink in, and the weight out the responsibility felt nearly too heavy for them to bear.

James paced back and forth across his spacious bedroom, seemingly unable to settle in one place. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides as he tried to wrestle with the situation that they had been forced into. Y/N was watching him, lounged on the edge of his bed with a mug of tea in her hand.

It had been a few days since their parents had broken the news to them and they had since decided that it would be a good idea for Y/N to move in with the Potter’s. It was as if her parents couldn’t wait to get her out quick enough and had all of her things boxed up in a matter of hours.

“What do you think of all this?” he finally asked, stopping in front of her. She raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

“Are you joking?” she scoffed, “You have to be joking. ‘Settling down’. Are you serious?” She sat so that she was upright, putting her mug down on the bedside table.

“Are our parents mad? Have they actually lost it? Who proposes something like that to teenagers these days?” She could barely hide her incredulity.

James sighed, feeling like his head was going to explode from a sudden rush of confusion and emotions. It felt so surreal, like this was some kind of elaborate joke that their parents were just waiting to reveal the punchline of.

“I mean, you seem great and all and sure, we get along well enough, but is that really a solid basis for deciding to spend the rest of our lives together?” He raked a hand through his unruly hair. In his mind, there was no possible way they could make this situation work.

“If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it would be hilariously tragic,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to ease the onset of a headache.

“My friends are supposed to be visiting for a few weeks.” James said, sitting down on his bed, “I suppose they’ll make me cancel now you’re here. Y’know, with them wanting us to spend time together and all.”

Y/N shook her head, feeling a surge of sympathy for James. He’d mentioned earlier how much he was looking forward to seeing his friends again and she couldn’t help but imagine how disappointed he would be if he had to cancel on them.

“That’s a pain.” she said, “If it was up to me, I’d leave you alone to do whatever you like. I mean, fuck it, why not just let them come over anyway? If we’re getting married then I’m going to have to meet your friends eventually.” a sort of half-smile crossed her face as she looked at James.

“Really?” he asked, turning to face her, “You wouldn’t mind if they still came over?”

“Not at all!”

“Wicked.” James grinned, “I’ll have to try and convince mum now.”

Somehow, James managed to convince his mother to allow his friends to stay and they arrived a few days later. w fresh faces around. The two boys bounded down the driveway and tackled James into a somewhat clumsy hug, lanky adolescent limbs all over the place. James laughed and greeted his friends fondly.

“So, this is the future wife then?” one of James’s friends grinned as he introduced them, “I’m Sirius. Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry that you have to marry this prat.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” Y/N mused. Sirius was just as tall as James but had a slightly more slender build. His dark hair falling straight down to his jawline, unlike James’s messy curls.

“It’s a rough deal, I’ll admit.” The other one said. He was taller than both James and Sirius and awkwardly held a hand out for Y/N to shake as he introduced himself, “I’m Remus, by the way.”

“Thanks for the condolences.” she laughed, “I’m Y/N.”

James seemed to loosen up a bit now that his friends were here. Y/N had barely seen him smile the last few days. He’d spent the majority of his time moping around the house trying to come up with a plan to get them both out of this mess.

They decided to go and explore the surrounding countryside, the boys were keen to show Y/N the places that they had gone when they were growing up. James had said he felt too cooped up in the house, like they were constantly being watched by his parents and was eager to get out.

They meandered around the grounds of Potter Manor, the boys occasionally sharing anecdotes about the summers that they used to spend at the Potter’s. Sirius pointed out the tree that James fell from when he broke his arm when he they were 12. The boys all looked at it fondly like it was one of the seven wonders of the world.

Sirius and Remus, much like James, were charming and playful and Y/N was pleased with how well they managed to mesh with her sense of humour. She realised, over the course of the afternoon, that Sirius had a particular way of speaking that made her heart flutter. There was something about it, deep, silky and rich like melted chocolate. A certain kind of gentleness to the way his voice carried that felt like he could make whoever he was speaking to feel as if they were the centre of his attention. Y/N felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as she tried to push the thoughts of Sirius from her mind.

As the sunlight began to fade into the afternoon sky, the group made their way back to the manor. Y/N knew that they would soon be sitting down for dinner, but she wasn’t quite ready for their afternoon to be over quite yet. She had gotten to know the boys better and was having fun hearing the stories of their school days. The idea of going back to an awkward dinner with James’s parents was unsettling.

Dinner was a bit of a bust; James’s parents were once again preaching the joys of settling down young and the importance of family and tradition. James seemed to be trying his best to get through the meal without any trouble, occasionally shooting an apologetic look at Y/N. Sirius and Remus sat awkwardly opposite them, doing their best to dodge the Potter’s invasive questions about when they themselves would get married.

Every so often, Sirius would nudge Y/N’s foot with his own under the table. It first started when Mrs Potter made a comment about wedding dresses, but as dinner went on, it became more and more frequent. He would tap his foot against hers, then when she would look up at him he would pull a face or wink at her. She tried her best to focus her attention on the food in front of her, but it was hard not to be distracted by Sirius’s constant prodding under the table. The gesture felt flirty, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t help but look back at him every time they made contact.

The first time that Y/N and Sirius were alone together was a few nights later when Y/N got up in the middle of night to get a drink. She was restless and unable to sleep, still not used to the unfamiliar house that she was now living in.

Sirius was already in the kitchen when she got in there, hoisted up on the kitchen counter, dimly lit from the small stream of moonlight that shone in from outside.

“Mrs Potter will kill you if she sees you sitting up there.” Y/N whispered. Sirius snapped his head round to look at her, clearly not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Let her try.” he said, not seeming too worried about the potential consequences of his behaviour. He stayed put on the counter, looking down at Y/N with a mischievous grin.

“On your head be it.” she shrugged, grinning at him, “What are you doing up so late anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shifted his legs so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the counter, “What about you? Doing a bit of late-night wedding planning?

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. She had spent so much time over the last few days trying to resist his playful flirting, but he was making it increasingly difficult. With every smile and joke, she felt herself warming up to him.

“Oh, of course,” she scoffed, “I was just about to draw up the first draft of our wedding invitation.”

“Well, if you need a hand writing them out then I’ll have you know that I have lovely penmanship.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Y/N said, “But I’m hoping it doesn’t get that far.”

“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked gently, his face becoming more sombre.

“I mean, James is lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to marry him, and he doesn’t want to marry me.”

Sirius just nodded, for once in his life at a loss for what to say. Y/N crossed the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. She pulled herself up onto the other counter, opposite Sirius.

“Y’know, I nearly ended up marrying my own cousin once,” He said bluntly. Y/N spluttered, nearly spitting her drink out. “You think yours and James’s families are mental? You should try meeting mine.”

Wait, what?” she asked, looking at him in disbelief.

“Yep. Old fashioned family traditions. Similar situation to you and James. They wanted me to settle down and get married and move out of the family home.” he said, “Guess that’s one thing we have in common then. Our fucked up families.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Sirius’s crassness, but she felt a sense of validation knowing that someone else knew exactly what she was going through.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she said with a small smile, “So, what happened? How did you get out of the marriage?”

��I ran away. Came to live with the Potter’s for a few weeks until school started again. I didn’t tell them exactly why of course. James and Remus knew and obviously thought it was hilarious.” his smile quickly faltered, “Haven’t seen my parents since.”

“Well, I’m glad you escaped.” Y/N said softly. She could see that the situation with his parents was still very raw and painful for him, as much as he tried to brush it off.

“Yeah, me too.”

They stayed in the kitchen chatting for hours. Y/N told Sirius about her childhood and her school years and he exchanged stories about his childhood before he ran away. They only realised how much time had passed when a small chink of sunlight streamed through the window.

“Shit. I didn’t realise the time.” Y/N gasped, hastily standing up.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?” Sirius grinned, he slid off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

His comment made her face flush and she hoped that he hadn’t noticed it in the dim early morning light. She quickly composed herself and nodded at Sirius.

“See you,” she said, trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Y/N and James seldom spent any time alone together with Sirius and Remus staying at the Potters. Secretly, she was grateful, it was nice to have a bit of a buffer between her and James sometimes, his two friends seemed to make the whole ordeal a lot less awkward.

“Are you busy?” James asked, suddenly appearing at her side in the kitchen the next morning. She hadn’t even heard him walk over. His voice caught her off-guard, and she jumped slightly, turning back to face him.

“No, why? Is everything okay?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.” he said quickly, “Everything is fine. I just wanted to...talk. To you.” James’s tone was more solemn than normal, his thick, dark eyebrows knitted together seriously.

A long moment of silence passed between them before Y/N eventually nodded and followed James. He led her upstairs towards his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. He gestured for Y/N to take a seat but remained standing himself. Her eyes widened in anticipation as he took a deep breath.

“I’m not really sure what the best way to tell you this is so I’m just going to come out and say it.” he began, “I overheard mum and dad speaking last night and well... they’ve set a date for the wedding.”

Y/N felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She had been enjoying the lull in the situation and felt like she had momentarily forgotten that anything had been wrong. James’s words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she slumped back in her seat, feeling completely stunned.

“W-what? When?”

“Next month.” James said with a pained expression, “It’s fast, but it seems like it’s the only way to satisfy our parents. They’ve set a date, so... I guess it’s happening.”

He crossed the room to sit next to Y/N on the bed. He took her hand in his and squeezed it. Y/N looked down at their intertwined fingers, it was the first time that they had ever really touched each other. She was suddenly painfully aware of how close James’s body was to hers. They were sitting side by side, their legs touching and their hands together. A wave of heat washed over her, and she forced herself to meet James’s gaze.

James, for his part, was trying very hard to keep his emotions in check as well. He grabbed Y/N’s hand without really thinking about what he was doing, in his head it just felt like it was the right thing to do. He held her gaze for a moment before finally speaking again.

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. Y/N nodded slowly, unable to look away from him. She looked down at their hands again, her lips parted slightly as she searched her head for words.

“I don’t know...” she finally said, “I don’t know how to feel.”

“I understand.” he nodded in acknowledgment, “This isn’t what either of us wanted.” He paused for a moment, releasing her hand from his and raking his fingers through his curls.

“I know the situation is shit and I know that we haven’t spent a lot of time together.” he continued, “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I mean, like... as a person. I don’t know, maybe if we got to know each other a little better it’ll all be okay.”

Y/N was taken aback by the way that James spoke so openly and honestly about his feelings. He didn’t sound like the angry person he was the first time they spoke about their marriage. This side of him was entirely different and she liked it. Despite everything that was going on, she felt strangely comforted by the way he was speaking so candidly.

“I feel the same way. I suppose we don’t really have another option, do we?” said smiled sadly, “I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m sure we can get through this together.”

“We can always divorce, eh?” James chuckled. Y/N let out a laugh, caught off guard by the way James quickly slipped back into his normal jovial self.

Over the next few days, Y/N spent most of her time avoiding James’s parents, in hopes that if they put off seeing them for long enough, they might just forget about the wedding all together. The four of them would try and spend as much of the day as they could outside of the house, often wandering down into the town or to the pub. Y/N’s late night conversations with Sirius had become a staple of her stay with the Potter’s and she found herself looking forward to their nightly rituals more over the next few days. She had quickly got used to sneaking down to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Their conversations had become increasingly more intimate, though for some reason, she still hadn’t broken the news to him about the date of the wedding.

That night, she met up with Sirius after everyone else had gone to bed, slipping out of her room and making her way down to the kitchen. The house was silent and still, and she felt a rush of excitement as she laid her eyes on Sirius, him staring back at her with a wide grin.

“I was wondering when you’d be joining me.” Sirius said calmly. Y/N returned the smile, taking a seat on the counter. Though, tonight, she strayed from her usual spot on the opposite side of the kitchen and sat next time him.

“You’re quite predictable, you know?” she teased, “the last three nights you’ve been in the kitchen, maybe you ought to start changing it up a little.”

She adjusted her position on the counter, trying to make herself more comfortable. Sirius smiled back playfully and for a moment, they just sat in companionable silence. Just as it had happened earlier with James, Y/N noticed the way that Sirius’s knee was touching hers. Although, this time she didn’t feel the need to yank it away, she just let it rest against hers.

“James told me the news.” Sirius stated, “It’s shit.”

“Yep.” Y/N laughed at his bluntness, “In less than a month I’ll be a married woman.”

“You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t like him – I think any girl would be lucky to have him. I mean, he’s lovely and all but...” her voice trailed off.

“You just don’t like him like that.” Sirius finished for her.

Y/N hummed in response, her eyes trailing down to where their knees were touching and then back up to Sirius’s eyes. He was looking straight back at her, as if his eyes were searching hers for exactly how she was feeling. The moment felt charged, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. She knew he was waiting for her to say something and she was quickly overcome by a wave of self-consciousness that left her unable to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, Sirius’s hand inched its way over until it was hovering over her knee. Slowly, but surely, his fingers placed themselves over her own. The heat between their two bodies was almost unbearable. She could feel her heart racing and she was almost certain that if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear it. Her fingers instinctively tightened around his.

“I just really don’t know what to do.” she found her voice after a moment, looking up at him.

Once again, his eyes locked with hers for a moment before they fluttered shut, his body angling towards hers, head tipped down and his lips brushing against her own. Instinctively, his hand reached up to cup her face, thumb stroking across the softness of her cheek. After a moment, she pulled away, her focus on his lips for a fleeting moment before forcing herself to look away. She felt like she had just been electrocuted, feeling dizzy with the rush of emotions. Sirius, for a few moments, looked like he was too stunned to speak. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and quickly drew his away.

“I should go.” he said, sliding down from the counter. He barely looked at her before swiftly making his way out of the kitchen. Y/N didn’t move, just stared after him as he left, her hands stayed where they were on the counter, her fingertips still tingling from Sirius’s touch.

They managed to avoid each other for the rest of the week, their brief moment of intimacy being pushed to the back of both of their minds. Y/N was doing her best to avoid thinking about Sirius, and Sirius was trying his best to avoid thinking about Y/N.

James had spent an awful lot of time by her side over the last few days, and while she appreciated the distraction, every time James spoke to her she got a horrible sick feeling in her stomach. She felt like her heart was being ripped into two, feeling torn between her attraction to Sirius and her engagement to James.

You’ve seemed off the last few days, is everything alright?” James asked one afternoon as they were sat together in the living room. Y/N looked up from the book that was resting on her lap.

“I’m fine.” she said, “How come you haven’t gone out with the others?”

“Remus wanted to go to the pub and I didn’t fancy it.” he shrugged.

“You’re not just staying here for me, are you?”

“No.” James laughed, “Not just staying here for you, no. But I would like to be spending time with you.”

Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked back down at her book, trying to avoid James’s gaze.

“I’ll be spending a lot of time with you for the rest of my life. Might as well start getting used to it.” he grinned.

“Hey, mind if I ask you something?” James asked after a few moments of silence.

“Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering, if we hadn’t been forced into this whole engagement thing, how do you think you would feel about me?”

Y/N froze, uncertain of what she should say. She wanted to be honest with him but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Her mind flicked back to the conversation she had had with Sirius and the kiss they had shared.

“I...” she started hesitantly, her eyes still avoiding James, “It’s hard, isn’t it? Maybe if we had met in another situation it would be different but...”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” James said, his voice gentle, “I know that none of this was how it was supposed to happen and I know that there are a lot of things about this situation that you don't like, but I think that we could still be happy together.”

She couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the guilt that suddenly washed over her. Even if they had met under different circumstances, she still wasn’t entirely sure that things would have worked out between them. She just didn’t see James like that. She had tried to ignore it at first, but to her, it just felt like it was a fact that there was no romantic tension between them. But, to say that would be heartbreaking, so instead, she just stayed silent.

“Y’know, Sirius said I’m mad.” James sighed and Y/N looked at him quizzically, “He thinks I’m daft for trying to find a way out of this marriage. Said I’d be lucky to have a girl as good as you.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great.” James moved to look at her properly, taking the book from her lap, closing it and placing it on the table so that she was forced to give him her full attention.

Y/N immediately felt nervous as she met James’s gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, feeling even more vulnerable no that there was no escape. She was forced to look directly at James with no distractions.

“He’s right as well. Although, don’t tell him I said that because the smug bastard would never let me live it down.” James chuckled. He moved his hand to cup her chin, shifting her face to look at him, “You are great. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re gorgeous. I mean, if the circumstances were different then I feel like-”

“James, don’t-”

Before she could finish her sentence, James had leaned forward, his lips colliding with hers. Y/N let out a gasp of surprise. She felt his hand tangling into her hair, the other moving down to her waist. It was like she was stuck, just sat there, allowing James to kiss her. Her body was completely overtaken by confusion.

“What the fuck.” a voice spoke.

Both of their heads snapped around to the doorway. Sirius was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, Remus at his side. Sirius’s expression was unreadable, and Y/N quickly pulled away from James, sinking back into her seat.

“Ah, so this is what you two get up to when we’re not around.” Remus grinned, “No wonder you didn’t want to come to the pub with us.”

James’s face flushed red and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, smiling nervously. A hot wave of embarrassment flushed over Y/N and her eyes frantically flicked between James and Sirius. Sirius’s expression didn’t change, and for the first time, she noticed a certain edge to his stare. It didn’t seem like he was going to say anything at all, but he kept his eyes locked on her.

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell if she was more angry with herself for letting the kiss happen or embarrassed at the fact that they had been caught. She looked back over to Sirius, his jaw was clenched and any trace of the usual playfulness in his eyes had gone. Without saying anything, Sirius walked away and they heard the faint slamming of his bedroom door.

“What’s his problem?” James asked.

“Dunno,” Remus shrugged, “He’s had a few pints. You know what he gets like.”

That night, Sirius didn’t show at their usual meeting place in the kitchen. Y/N sat and waited patiently, hoping that he would turn up so that she could explain herself to him. She wanted to tell him that it was James that kissed her, that it meant absolutely nothing to her. Her heart sank as the morning light started to stream into the kitchen and she realised that Sirius wasn’t coming.

For days, the only time that Y/N would see Sirius was when they ran into each other at the table during meals or on the stairs. Sirius avoided her eyes when they passed each other, not even giving her a chance to speak to her before disappearing. She didn’t know what to do. She kept trying to catch his eye whenever she saw him, willing him to look at her, wanting to explain everything. But, every time, she felt as though her words would be meaningless.

She didn’t even want to see James now. Whenever he tried to talk to her, she would avoid him and go out of her way to prevent being alone with him. It wasn’t James’s fault, and deep-down Y/N knew that.

One night, as Y/N was on her way upstairs to bed, she ran into Sirius. He was on his way out, taking his coat off the hook in the hallway when she suddenly caught a glimpse of him. She tensed up as he looked at her, scared of what he was going to say, but all he seemed to do was stare, that same cold expression that he wore when he saw her and James kiss.

Before she could say anything, Sirius turned around, slid on his coat and walked out of the house. Y/N watched him walk away, managing to stop the front door before it slammed shut behind him. Not even bothering to put her coat on, she slipped on her shoes and hastily followed him up the driveway.

“What are you doing out here? Go back inside, you’ve not even got a coat on. You’ll freeze.” Sirius said bluntly when she managed to catch up to him.

“I don’t care.” Y/N pressed, “Will you please just speak to me? You’ve been avoiding me for days!”

“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t feel like speaking to you after I walked in on you kissing my best mate.”

“I’m engaged to him!”

“You told me you didn’t love him!”

“I don’t!”

“Then why did you kiss him?”

They were stood facing each other now. The chilly night air nipped at Y/N’s bare skin, making the hair on her arms stand up. She could feel frustrated tears stinging her eyes and she fought hard to hold them in.

“He kissed me.” Y/N’s voice came out strained, “I wish he didn’t. God, I wish he didn’t. I don’t know why he did it. It just happened. I don’t know – maybe he just wanted to see if there was anything there.”

“And was there?” Sirius asked, his eyes still cold.

“Not on my part, no.” Y/N admitted, “Not like there was when you kissed me.”

Sirius stopped at that. His eyes locked on hers, his expression softening for the very first time. His eyebrows raised slightly, and his frown eased.

“You mean, the kiss with me really meant something to you?”

Y/N nodded; a shy smile crept over her face as she thought back to their kiss. The way that Sirius’s lips had felt so different to James’s. Softer, more passionate, it had just felt right in that moment.

“Of course it meant something to me. I thought it had to you as well,” her smiled faltered for a second, “but then after you left straight away and you avoided me for days. I thought you regretted it. Then the kiss with James happened and...”

“I did regret it. I regretted it because you’re engaged to my best friend and I'm the bloody fool that decided to fall in love with you.” Sirius’s brows furrowed, “I just felt like I fucked up. God, you’re getting married.”

Sirius raked a hand through his hair, his head tipped back. He looked up towards the sky, the inky, dark night sprinkled with stars. He sighed and then looked back at her.

“I just wish we could have met under a different circumstance.” he said sadly, “without everything being so complicated.”

“Me too.”

She couldn’t help the aching feeling in her heart. Feeling as if the world was so cruel to throw them together this way. His eyes locked on hers, a deep well of sadness in them.

“We should go back inside; you’ll catch your death out here.” Sirius said, placing a hand on her arm and trying to guide her back to the house.

“Where were you going anyway?” she asked, “When you walked out?”

“God knows.”

They walked back to the house in silence, the only sound being the creaky stairs as they made their way back to their bedrooms. She could feel the tension in the air, like they both wanted to say something but couldn’t. When they reached the top of the stairs, without saying anything, Sirius placed a gentle hand on her cheek and turned her to face him.

Gently, Sirius pulled her towards him, sliding one arm around her body so her chest was just brushing against his. His other hand moved up to cup the back of her neck, his fingertips brushing gently against her skin. He pulled her in closer and she tipped her head back to look at him, their lips just inches away from each other.

He didn’t wait a second longer. His lips found hers, pressing against them as he kissed her deeply. One hand slid down to rest on her waist, the other tangling in her hair, pulling her body flush against his.

For the first time that night, Y/N wasn’t thinking about all the complications, she was just basking in the moment, happy to feel the electricity between them once again. The kiss was much longer than their last, much more passionate. Y/N ran her fingers through Sirius’s hair. Every inch of her was pulled towards him, desperate to cling onto him. She wanted it to last forever, her arms wrapped around his neck, his body melted against her own, her lips on his. She would have given anything for time to stand still.

All too soon, the kiss ended. Sirius’s lips moved away from hers. Their breathing was loud in the silence. The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity, both refusing to look away.

“What do we do now?” Y/N asked softly.

Sirius paused before answering, his eyes flicking back down to her lips. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but no words came out. Instead, he just tilted his head down and kissed her again, sweetly this time.

“I’ll do whatever it takes if it means I get to do that again.” Sirius whispered, his lips still touching hers.

“But what about James?”

Her question brought them both crashing back to reality. Sirius let out a deep exhale as he looked away.

“Let me worry about that.”

James was in the kitchen the next morning when Y/N went to get breakfast. Much like herself, he was an early riser and was sat at the kitchen table when she walked in. The golden glow of the sunlight lit up the room, bathing James in its warmth.

“Morning.” he smiled, looking up at her. His voice was still thick with sleep and his curls were falling messily over his forehead.

Y/N smiled back despite her stomach churning with anxiety. She had spent most of the night unable to sleep, replaying last night’s events in her mind. Despite James being completely oblivious to what was happening with Sirius, she could barely stomach being in the same room as him.

James kicked the chair out that was opposite from him, gesturing for her to take a seat. She wanted to refuse, to distance herself from him as much as possible, but she couldn’t.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” James addressed. She felt her heart immediately drop. Her eyes darted across the room, looking anywhere but back at him.

“I could say the same.” she retorted. James raised an eyebrow at her and leaned back in his seat.

“You kissed me.” The words had fallen from her mouth before she had even realised what she was saying.

“I did.” An amused smile tugged on his lips. Y/N’s stomach heaved at the way he was acting so casually about it.

“Why did you do it?”

“To see if we both felt anything.” he shrugged.

“And did you?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He was acting so nonchalant, and it was driving her insane. James just chuckled, amused by her reaction.

“Let’s suppose I did feel something. Would that affect anything?” he probed.

Y/N looked away from him again, she was speechless. Her head was reeling from everything that was going on, all the conflicting emotions. A few weeks ago her and James were planning away for them to get out of the engagement, and then he kissed her and now, he seemed unfazed by the whole situation.

“It wouldn’t.” he answered for her, “Because you didn’t feel anything.”

For a moment, the whole world seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened, shocked at how blunt he was being with her. She couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t felt anything. He was right and she hated that.

“Fine.” she admitted, feeling her throat clench up, the words just barely forcing themselves out, “I didn’t feel anything. What were you expecting? That you would kiss me and-”

“That there would be fireworks and we would both realise that we were actually madly in love with each other?” James said dryly, “I’m not stupid. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

Y/N sighed and rested her head in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything that had just been said.

“I’m a good kisser, right?” he teased, breaking the silence, “I mean, you have to give me that. It wasn’t completely awful, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t completely awful.” Y/N cracked a smiled for the first time that morning. The atmosphere between them felt lighter. She felt herself relax a little, her smile growing wider. It was nice to be able to laugh a little, even if it was due to the awkwardness of the situation.

“Did you sort everything out with Sirius?”

“What?” Y/N spluttered, nearly choking on the intake of breath.

“C’mon, I’m not thick.” he smiled, “All this ‘you’d be daft not to marry her’ nonsense. He couldn’t make it any more obvious.”

Y/N’s heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute, the blood pumping through her body as she tried to think of a way to get her out of speaking about Sirius.

“I didn’t... we didn’t... nothing happened.” she stumbled over her words. It was clear that she was terrible liar because she only managed to keep it up for a few seconds before she let out a massive sigh.

“You’re the worst liar I have ever met, you know that?” James laughed.

She sighed again, realising that she had no choice but to come clean. James was right – he wasn’t stupid and his suspicions were spot on.

“Fine.” she groaned, “We kissed. Twice actually. We’ve met up a few nights, down here and we just chatted and-”

“You like him.” James said.

“I like him.”

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both of them just stewing in the silence. Y/N tapped her fingers anxiously on the table, trying to think of something to say.

“I’m sorry.” she decided on.

“Don’t be sorry.”

Y/N felt completely lost. He didn’t seem angry, or disappointed. He seemed almost understanding and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She looked up at him, slightly surprised by his reaction.

“You don’t care?” she asked incredulously.

“Nope.” he smiled, “I think I always knew this would happen eventually. I never really believed in the arrangement. I mean, you’re great and I do like you but I don’t really want to marry you and you don’t want to marry me either. So what difference does it make that you like someone else?”

“But your parents have booked the wedding.”

“Fuck the wedding. I don’t care.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “Our parents care more about the wedding than we ever could. They’ll get over it. They’ll find someone else for me to marry.” he finished with a laugh.

Y/N felt like all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like she could breathe properly again for the first time in weeks. James was being so mature about the whole situation. She had been worrying for absolutely no reason, convinced that her entire world was about to come crashing down.

“So, what do we tell our parents?” she asked.

“Let me figure that out.” James said sitting up straight, “I’ll speak with both sets of parents, and we’ll see where it goes from there. In the meantime, just act normal. They don’t think that there’s anything wrong.”

Y/N distracted herself while James was speaking to their parents by making her way up to Sirius’s room. She knocked gingerly on his door. He didn’t answer for a few moments but then she heard a shuffling sound and the door creaked open.

Sirius looked like he had just woken up, his jet black hair slightly tussled but still perfect looking, plaid pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips. Y/N found herself staring at him for a second to long, her eyes scanning over his shirtless torso, taking in the sprinkling of tattoos that she hadn’t seen before.

“Are you going to come in or are you just going to stare at me all day?” a cocky smirk spread across his lips. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter his room and shut the door behind her. He leaned back against his bed, his eyes wandering over her, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was watching her as well.

Neither of them spoke as they drank each other in. Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, noticing for the first time all the little details. The posters that had be messily taped to the wall, the stacks of books by his bed, even the smell of the room, all the subtle hints of him.

“I told James.” she said, breaking the silence.

“It’s a bit early to be dropping bombshells like that.” his mouth was curling up at the corner.

“We don’t all sleep in ‘til noon,” she teased. Sirius just rolled his eyes at her.

“D’you think I slept at all last night?” he nudged her, “How did he take it?”

“Better than I expected, actually. He said he knew something was going on between us anyway. Said you spoke... highly of me.” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“Oh, yeah?” he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes sparkling mischievously “What did he say?”

“That you said he’s daft not to marry me.”

Sirius snorted in amusement, leaning back on the bed and crossing his arms.

“I was that obvious, was I?” he laughed, “I guess he’s not as thick as I thought he was.”

“I think it was more obvious when you stormed off when you walked in on him kissing me.” she joked. The pair of them laughed at the thought of Sirius’s dramatic exit. “He didn’t seem bothered at all. I mean, we both agreed that this engagement was stupid. It’s just an excuse for our parents to get involved in our lives. There’s no real reason for us to get married.”

“So, what now?” he rested one of his hands on her thigh, “the marriage is off, I’m assuming. So, what’s the plan – we run away into the sunset together?”

“In a perfect world, I would love to do just that, but we both know it’s not going to be that easy.” her smile faded slightly, “James is breaking the news to our parents. God knows what he’s going to tell them.”

“Well, I suppose we just have to wait and see.”

He pulled her towards him, letting her head rest on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her properly for the first time. She felt like she melted into him, simply just existing in his arms. Sirius rand a hand down her arm, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, letting it linger for a few seconds.

Every sense of her body seemed to come alive all at once. The scent of his skin mingling with the like smell of his cologne, the sound of his breath and the feel of his gentle touch running over her skin. She felt herself get lost in the moment, forgetting the past and ignoring the future. For now, she felt content.

#sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black #marauders fanfic #sirius black fluff #marauders fluff #harry potter fanfic #james potter

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yelenasdiary · 7 months ago

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Forbidden || Chapter III Stranger

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Bishop! Reader.

Summary: Just outside of the small town of Blisswater, lives two young sisters, Kate & Y/n Bishop. It's hard not to know who the Bishops are, Kate is the eldest by a year. She is a beautiful young woman, smart, protective and is known to have a talent in using a bow. Y/n, she is shy but quiet as some would say but nevertheless, she holds her own talents and can often be seen tending to the animals of Bishop Ranch. One evening while Kate is out hunting to make some money, Y/n is surprised with an unwanted guest, Yelena Belova. A bounty Hunter from Drybellow who has taken shelter in the young Bishop's barn after being wounded from a gun fight.

Struggling to keep money following, Y/n has no choice but to take the bounty hunter's offer of $5 a day if she is able to help the woman recover. During Yelena's stay, the two grow closer, a little too close if the wrong pair of eyes were to see them.

Warnings:Homophobia (given the time setting, reader believes same sex relations are wrong), Mentions of sexism, Mentions of arson, Parental Death (Wanda’s), Mentions of Guns, Mentions of Murder, Unwanted Male Attention | 3.2K

Forbidden Masterlist

The sun ever so slightly peaked over the open land telling me I had woken up earlier than I normally would. It was still dark out, the dark clouds covering the sky as rain continued to cover the land. I assumed it was the deep fear of Kate stumbling into my room and seeing a complete stranger in my bed that I had woken up earlier, I knew I had to be up before her and keep her from finding out. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I'm still so worried about Yelena, she looked so peaceful sleeping but still wasn't out of the woods. Wanda should hopefully be back from wherever she has gone tomorrow, I wish had given me a rough time as to when she'd be stopping by.

I quietly crept out of my room to get Yelena's herbal tea ready before she woke up, placing it on the small wooden bedside table. She turned in her sleep, slowly opening her eyes, she greeted me with a soft smile that made me feel warm. I smiled back, "good morning" I whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you. I just brought in your morning tea. Wanda should be back tomorrow so only 2 or 3 more mugs of this tea!" I assured her. She made the effort to side up, taking the mug to warm her hands.

The weather was a little on the colder end, the storm last night hasn't ended. The sound of rain drops falling on the wood roof was one of my favorite sounds, I wasn't prepared to see the mess the wild wings had caused.

"You know, I'm surprised this tea seems to be working. I don't feel like my temperance is a high today. Who is this magical woman with the herbal goods?" Yelena replied in a whisperer.

"Most people around her actually believe she's magical. She's lovely and I hope you get to meet her one day"

"Wait, you go this tea from a witch?" Yelena asked, cocking her brow.

"She's not a witch. She's misunderstood" I correct her, "before she moved her, she used to live in a large city well over the Grand Point Mountains. She grew up there with her parents and twin brother. Her parents owned one of the smaller post offices just outside the city and on weekends Wanda would help her mother while Pietro would be off doing something with their dad. Wanda's mother let her sell stuff for a few cents, but people believed she was experimenting in witchcraft and began to harass her family. One night before closing, her parents were locked in the build as it was set on fire. Her parents died in the flames, leaving Wanda and Pietro to leave the city" I explained.

"What do you think? Do you think she's a witch like everybody else?" Yelena asked after a moment of silence. I shrugged, "what she is and what she isn't has no effect on me. She's kind to me and has never given me a reason to be cruel to her. Word travels and now the people in Blisswater treat her with no respect"

Yelena hummed at my reply before she took a mouthful of her tea, "you're a very interesting person, Y/n Bishop" she spoke after letting the tea warm her insides.

I'm not sure why but the way she said my name made my stomach flutter and I found myself unable to look her in the eyes. "Well, I could say the same about you, bounty hunter Yelena Belova" I replied.

"I'm not near as interesting as you are" she said, taking another mouthful of her tea. I looked at her, "I'm not sure what you find so interesting about me, I've never done anything as cool as you. I mean, you get to be a bounty hunter! You're free to travel the land for free, you can handle yourself in many situations but me? All I know is Blisswater and it's surroundings"

Yelena placed her mug back on the wooden table before she looked up at me, "that's how you see things? I haven't seen much, but I've heard enough" she says, "that peter boy, he's head over heels for you and he's not a bad looking guy. But you don't look twice at him, why is that?" she asked.

"Peter has been in love with me since he learned the word love. I don't know what love feels like when it's not for your family, but I know that what he feels for me isn't what I feel for him"

"Are you to marry him?" Yelena asked. I shook my head, "my father thinks he's a wonderful young gentlemen and would like to see me marry him, but he always says he just wants me to be happy. My mother says that one day I will have to find somebody because this world isn't made for women on their own" I replied.

Yelena cocked a brow at my last sentence, "but you are clearly proof that a woman can do just fine on her own" I quickly added. She chuckled lightly making my cheeks once again have a warm sensation to them. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" I asked to break any silence that may have come next.

"You know, you should probably tell your sister that I am here, it might make things easier for you" she chuckled lightly once more, "I need to use the toilet, so I guess, whenever you think it's safe, let me know" she added.

"Of course, um, Kate and I are probably going to make a trip to town to sell the elk meat so we'll be gone for a little while" I replied, "but I can't tell her about you, not until I find the right time to explain things" I added with a nervous smile. Yelena took another mouthful of her tea before giving me a nod, "yes ma'am" she said.

I smiled softly just before I heard Kate letting Lucky out the back door, "and on that note, I'll be back when I can" I said in a whisperer before leaving my room, greeting Kate with a stretch. "Good morning" I smiled.

"If you say so" she replied, she was never much of a morning person until she'd had a coffee to wake herself up a little. I followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the dining table as she began to make her coffee. "So, did you want to get lunch at the saloon today? Something different for once" I suggested, wanting to earn Yelena some extra time to relax without worrying.

"Sounds good to me, doesn't look like the rain is going to let up anytime soon. We'll sell the elk meat to the butcher and grab a few things from Mr Barton then we can get some lunch"

"Maybe we could even stop by the post office and see if there is anything from mom and dad" I added. Kate turned and smiled softly to me, almost as if she didn't want to make me worry but I knew deep down she had her own theories about where our parents were.

"Sure, won't hurt to check" she replied, pouring her hot coffee into a tin mug.

"I'll go get dressed and feed Arrow and Lucky while I wait for you" I said, excusing myself from the kitchen and returning to my room.

"Why the long face?" Yelena whispered. I opened my dresser and began to pick out my outfit, trying not to let my mind think about how much I missed my parents. "I wouldn't want to bother you with my problems" I replied as I grabbed a top.

"I'm pretty sure I would win that argument but it's okay, you don't have to talk about it, I am a stranger after all"

I couldn't help but sigh, I wasn't sighing at Yelena or her comment but because I missed my parents. How could they have just disappeared? Deep down I know something has happened to them, but I try my best to ignore that thought and think maybe they are just so busy, and father is caught up on a business deal. I turned to Yelena, my shoulders felt heavy, and I could feel tears trying to break their way through.

"My parents have been missing for months. Not a single letter in the mail from them. I'm just worried about them is all" I whispered, fighting back my tears.

There was a brief moment of silence before Yelena spoke again, "How about when I'm better, I'll see what I can find out" she offered. My eyes widened at the offer but quickly remembered to keep quiet. "Would you? I mean, I wouldn't want to put you out in any way, I just" I paused for a moment as my mind flashed back to the last memory I had of my parents. Father helped mother up onto the wagon before loading the last of their luggage, a smile from mother as she waved goodbye, reminding Kate and I to be safe.

I remember the night before they left, father came into my room and told me how he was going to bring me back some paint that would last me a good few months. He said he missed my paintings and wanted me to paint him and mother something wonderful to hang up in the living room.

"I miss them so much" I finally added.

"Then I must recovery quickly then" Yelena threw me a playful wink. Her gesture made me smile softly before I turned to close the dresser, "do you mind?" I asked kindly. Yelena nodded and pulled my bed cover over my head to allow me to get dressed, I got dressed as quickly as I could just so I could spare a few small minutes with Yelena.

"Do you think maybe a little later you could share some more of your bunty hunting stories?" I asked in a whisper as I fixed my hair in the mirror. Yelena slowly pulled the covers off her head and looked at me through the mirror, "I think I could do that" she smiled softly.

"Y/n, are you ready?" I heard Kate call.

"Coming!" I called back, "I'll see you later" I said quietly to Yelena before leaving the room and meeting Kate in the kitchen again. "It looks like the rain is starting to pick up, I'll go feed Arrow, you feed Lucky and then we'll go" my sister said, downing the last mouthful of her coffee before placing her mug in the sink.

---

We sold the elk meat and made $8 but the butcher, Mr Austin always likes to give Kate a little extra. You'll find that almost everybody in Blisswater is generous and friendly, we all help each other out. It's almost like we are one giant family! After that, we made our way to Mr Barton.

"Good morning girls!" He greeted us with a warm smile.

"Morning!" Kate replied shortly after me.

"What can I do for you this morning?" Mr Barton asked, putting away a revolver in the lock up behind him. "I just need some new arrows, went hunting the other day and lost a few" Kate replied as she made her way over to the arrows. "Catch anything worth it?" He asked.

"An elk, not bad skin but could've been better" Kate said.

These two always bond over their hunting skills and love for hunting, he's taught Kate a few tips and tricks when it comes to using a bow. Usually, I just stand in the background and wait for their conversations to be over with but this morning, Mr Barton's daughter, Lila, was helping him today.

"They talk a lot, don't they?" She smiled at me. I chuckled, "they do"

"Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked me, I shook my head, "I'm just here with Kate, she needs new arrows! How's Cooper?" I asked, that's her older brother.

"He is fine, he's was supposed to help father today but mother needed a man's help back home so I swapped" she explained, "hey did you hear about the gunshots the other night? People are saying the infamous Loki, and his gang are hanging around town" she added. I wondered if this was how Yelena got hurt.

Loki and his gang are basically famous for their crimes of robbing banks, sometimes even killing people in their homes. If he and his gang are hanging around, it won't be ideal for Kate and I to be seen at home without our parents.

"No, I mean, I heard the gun shots, but I didn't think it had anything to an outlaw gang" I replied.

"Father and I saw some men come out of the saloon earlier, not faces I'd ever seen around here before" Lila said, "best to be extra careful" she added. I nodded at her words, "Thank you for the heads up. Kate and I are headed there for lunch after they stop yapping" I replied making her chuckle. "It might be a while; you know these two" she joked. We both chuckled, making Kate and Mr Barton turn around to look at us.

"What's so funny over there?" Mr Barton asked.

"Oh, nothing father, just get back to your hunting talk" Lila teased making her father playfully shake his head at us.

While I was waiting for Kate to finish her hunting topics with Mr Barton, an unfamiliar face entered the store. He was tall, maybe six-foot! His hair was dark brown and he had green eyes, his coat brushed ever so slightly against the floor.

"Oi, gunsmith! Can I get some service around here?" he demanded as he made his way to the counter.

"Of course, I'll be right there" Mr Barton replied. Kate looked over to me and nodded towards the door, suggesting it was time for us to leave. "What can I get for you?" Mr Barton asked. The tall man placed a shotgun onto the counter and demanded that Mr Barton clean the weapon while he stocked up on ammo and gun oil. As Kate and I walked out of the store two other men that didn't look very happy were waiting outside.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing" one man said as he looked my sister up and down. I noticed Kate rolled her eyes at his comment, it wasn't flattering, and Kate didn't seem to like it. "Give us a smile doll" he added.

"Get a real job, loser!" Kate muttered, pulling me close to her side as we walked.

"Oh, come on sweet thing, don't be like that. Come play with a real man" we heard the guy call out.

Once we got to the saloon, we took a seat near the window. "I don't want you hanging out town by yourself right now" Kate said as she took off her coat and hung it over the back of her chair. "You don't have to tell me twice, Lila told me all about it" I replied. Kate nodded before she took a seat, "what can I get you ladies?" Mr Barnes smiled.

"Surprise me!" I smiled back, I wasn't sure what I felt on the menu, and it was always fun when Mr Barnes would surprise me. "You got it, Kate, what can I get you?" He asked. I watched my sister's eyes scan the menu of three options while the drunken men by the bar caught more of her attention then the menu did, "what's the story there?" Kate asked.

"Just another gang rolling through town, heard a few of them talking about plans to head north, I wouldn't worry to much about them" Mr Barnes assured us, but I could tell that Kate wasn't assured at all. "Roasted catfish and veg will be fine" Kate smiled but her eyes drifted back to the men.

"I bet mother and father's letters are just travel as much as they are" I joked in hopes it would lighten the mood, but Kate looked at me, smiled softly and let out a light sigh. "Y/n, I know you don't want to face the reality of this but I thin-"

"Kate, please don't say it" I cut her off, "I know you think I'm too scared to admit but I know okay? I know they are probably lying face out in the ditch somewhere, but I still think there is hope! Even if we never see them again, they could've sent a letter!" I snapped, storming out of the saloon.

"Y/n, wait!" I heard Kate's voice not far behind me. I don't like making a scene, but I wish Kate would be a little more understanding of my feelings, she acts as though I am supposed to be like her and act like our missing parents have been dead for many years. "Would you just wait up a second!" Kate ran up to me, gently grabbing me by the arm.

"I didn't mean to upset you" she said, looking me in my eyes while I fought back tears, "I just don't want you to keep being disappointed when there isn't a letter. I miss them too, I wish they never left but it's just you and I for now, okay?"

I nodded before she pulled me in for a comforting hug, "let's have lunch, check the post office and head home then we can do whatever you want, sound good?" She spoke. I nodded once more before the two of us walked back to the saloon to enjoy lunch.

----

"We'll try again next week" Kate smiled softly as we walked out the path to our home, I gave her a fake smile in reply. I really hoped that this would be the day that I'd be walking this path reading aloud a letter from our parents, it gave me something to look forward to. "Here, I got you something to cheer you up" Kate spoke, handing me a candy bar, "thanks!!" I smiled as I quickly ripped into it.

"You were supposed to save it for after dinner" she chuckled, opening the front door. My eyes widen when I saw Yelena standing in the hall with a cup in her hand. Kate quickly grabbed the closest thing to a weapon, "who the hell are you?!" She said sternly. I dropped my candy bar, "Kate, it's okay!" I said, standing in front of her. If it were possible, you'd be able to see the steam coming from Kate's ears.

"Y/n, why is there a stranger in our home?!" She asked.

"I can see you're mad, but I can explain everything!" I replied but she ignored me, "you, outside, now!" Kate looked through me to Yelena who didn't say a word but followed Kate's instructions meanwhile I did my best to try and calm my sister down. "Who are you and what do you want?" Kate asked sternly.

Yelena looked directly into Kate's eyes, suddenly it was like I didn't even exist in the moment. "My names Yelena. Yelena Belova and your sister here has been helping me, I took cover in your barn after being shot, as you can see. I've been paying her $5 a day for her troubles" Yelena explains. Kate turns to look at me, eyes full of anger, "you have a lot to explain" she muttered.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

#fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova x reader #forbiddenau

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luverofralts · 3 months ago

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Arkhelios Adventures

"That was the worst thing I've ever experienced in all of my life. I never imagined something hurting more than my mother's funeral, but...but I...."

"Yeah. Me too. I keep thinking that they're just going to pop out from the hall and laugh at how gullible we were for thinking they were gone. I-I...I don't know how to keep going anymore. I'm just so tired."

Queen Maura and her very relieved to be back as consort, Ulyssa, stood in the echoing chambers of the Twikkii Island royal crypt, trying to process the events of the day.

They had entombed Spencer and Alysiara in the newly created family vault for Maura’s dynasty mere hours ago, but neither of them knew how to move forward. The service was finished, people had sobbed and told the royal couple how dearly the prince and princess would be missed and then left. The royal guard had gently hinted to the queen that it was time for her to leave as well, but those were her children. How could she leave them behind in a cold marble tomb? She had never left them alone without supervision in all of their short lives, how could she just leave them now?

"You did good today. With your speech, I mean. It was very moving; I think the public responded to it well," Maura said quietly, still staring at the marble walls that held her children. "You...you handled the regency better than I'd expected too."

When Ulyssa shot her a nasty look, Maura tried to understand why. Nothing made sense in her mind anymore, and it took a moment to realize that her wording had been insensitive.

"No, I didn't mean...I just tried to imagine doing it myself if my mom had...had lived a little longer than she did. I know I'd be an anxious mess, barely holding it together. You did everything to make sure that we could bury our children together, and I appreciate that. Truly."

Ulyssa nodded curtly, but felt her shoulders loosen slightly at the earnest remark. It had been some time since her wife had paid her a true compliment, and Ulyssa wasn't used to it anymore.

"We're on the same team, Maura. You prepared me for the possibility the entire time we dated. I'm here to support you; that's what a consort does. It wasn't easy, but I did my best because you're my wife. I care about you."

Maura looked away from Ulyssa's unwavering stare, unable to summon the courage to talk about her feelings on their marriage in a place as gloomy as this.

"What do we do now? Do we just go home? It feels wrong."

"It's not like they're here anymore, Maur. It's okay to leave. They're in a better place than here, waiting for us to join them someday."

Maura stared at her wife she had suddenly sprouted an extra head.

"You're suddenly spiritual," she commented. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that."

"That's not true," Ulyssa replied, crossing her arms. "I've always thought about life after death, you know, since my mother's a zombie? Things just seem a little clearer since the service. Claudia passed on a message to me from her parents."

"Claudia did what? When did she talk to you? I barely saw her the entire time."

"People want to talk to queen who nearly died, not the consort who held things together for a few days. Claudia and I talked quite a bit, actually."

Maura froze, unsure of how to process this information. Had Claudia truly tried to ease a grieving mother's mind with supernatural knowledge, or was this some kind of deception? Both options seemed equally as likely, but Claudia had always made it quite clear how she felt about Ulyssa. Maybe Claudia sympathized with her now as a mother. Maybe she was trying to turn Ulyssa away from Maura during a vulnerable time.

"What did she say to you? I wouldn't mind some peace in this whole mess. She could have told me too."

"Well, we're married, Maura. I'm sure she thought I could pass a message to you at some point."

Maura recoiled at the hostility in her wife's voice. When had their relationship become this bad? It had imploded with Ulyssa's affair, but it had been cracking ever since the day Maura’s mother had died. Had it really taken a near death experience and losing two children to open her eyes to what should have been obvious? She and Ulyssa hadn't truly been alone together, being honest with themselves in years.

"Yes. Yes, sorry, that makes sense. I've just talked to so many people today, I thought that Claudia might have wanted to be one of them. What did she say?"

"That our children were happy," Ulyssa said slowly, ensuring that she repeated Claudia's phrasing to preserve the accuracy of the information. An afterlife was somewhat difficult to picture and Ulyssa didn't want to get it wrong. "They're being guided by your family and adjusting well. There was some mention of Alysiara running some kind of horse farm, I'm not sure if that's a euphemism for something or not. She does love horses. Spencer and your mom have been spending a lot of time together, and she's loving being a grandmother, despite the circumstances." She paused to take another deep breath. "There was nothing we could do to save them; it was just their time. Claudia said not to blame ourselves because once a death has been written in Death’s records, there's no changing it. It's not our fault, Maura. I didn't think I could spend the rest of my life living with the guilt of not being there to protect them, but there was nothing I could have done to change what happened. There's nothing Adrian or Trent could have done either."

Maura’s eyes fell to the floor, suddenly filled with regret.

"You heard about Adrienne's new title already?" she asked quietly. "That decision is mine to make and I won't revoke it. She deserves to be rewarded for saving my life."

"She does, yes, but that's not why you've made this choice. You want to punish your cousin, one of the few remaining blood members of your family, for not stopping something that was beyond his control. At least be honest about it; we can all see why you're doing this."

Maura paused again, unsure of how to respond to that accusation.

"I don't do well with death," she said at last. "I know that no one truly does, but I seem to be especially messy when faced with it. I hated my mom for letting my father die and remarrying. I let you crack under the pressure we faced when my mother died and didn't even notice how bad we had gotten together. I lost my children and all I can seem to do is lash out at anyone who tries to help. I'm a mess, Ulyssa, and I'm sorry. I try not to think about what my legacy would have been if I'd died. I know that I wouldn't be remembered as a queen as respected and loved as my grandmother. I'd just be 'petty, vindictive Maura' who got herself and her children killed at a stupid family barbecue. Plus, I'd be handing Adrion such a huge responsibility that he'd probably turn out to be just like me in the end. He'd probably grow to resent my memory over the years and hate me by the time we were reunited in the afterlife."

"Maura, that's not true. Adrion loves you, and you'd do anything to help him. You're not a bad queen either. You should have seen the public's response to potentially losing you. You would have been greatly missed."

"I don't know where my father is buried," Maura said quietly, trying to sort through the feelings that Ulyssa's words had raised. She struggled with the memories of her time spent with her own deceased mother. "I should think about him more often, but I don't. I don't even remember him, really. But I'm the queen, I should know where he's buried."

"You're not awful for not thinking about him," Ulyssa replied. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't remember my mother well either. Not...not how she used to be anyway. The way she laughed, the books she used to read to me...it's all gone. She was dead to me the moment she left us for Abe's dad, and now she's forever undead, so we can't even bury her. Her festering corpse still shambles in the restricted zone somewhere, but she's gone. Everything that she was or could be is just gone, and will never come back. I was so angry at her when she died that I never thought about whether I could forgive her and now I don't know if I can. There's no closure, just more hurt."

"You never told me that before. About your mom. I never thought that her non-death bothered you like that. You don't really speak about her."

"The only light in this dark, horrible situation is that our children are properly in a better place," Ulyssa stated firmly. Maura nodded, barely holding back tears. "They can never be like my mother and that's the only kindness the gods have shown us. Do you remember my first boyfriend, Zane?"

A quick smile graced Maura’s lips before she could fight it.

"I remember you sitting in your dorm room trying to tell yourself that you loved him. You were so cute back then, trying to find yourself and rewrite your life. I always admired that about you."

"I watched Zane's corpse try to attack the people he loved. It wasn't anything like Zane was, not even close. I can only imagine that my mother is the same. It is a blessing that our family won't be subjected to that."

Maura nodded solemnly, tears once again flowing down her face.

"I underestimated the way you were raised," Ulyssa said if only to break the silence that had fallen between them. "From the outside, you grew up in a huge castle, had tons of money and were gorgeous on top of all of that. I used to wonder what such a person could see in someone like me, what we could have in common. But it was all a lie. Royal life is dangerous and frustrating, and unrelenting. You never got to mourn your dad because the queen said so, you even suspect she had something to do with his death. Your mother and half-sister died right before your eyes and we are still powerless to find their murderer. I underestimated everything that you've been through when I should have been supporting you."

"I'm sorry about the baby," Maura blurted out. "I was just so angry and hurt about your affair. I thought that if I had a child with someone else, then we'd be even and we could move on with our marriage. Naming her and caring for her couldn't have been easy to deal with, and I'm sorry. I'm not sure that I would have handled it as gracefully as you did, had it been Georgiana's birth and you were unconscious."

The very thought of Maura handling anything to do with Georgiana with grace was enough to choke a small laugh out of the consort.

"No, I don't think you would have either," she agreed, still surprised that her body was somehow capable of laughter after all that had happened. "I mean, you named her after the most infamous bastard royal in Pleasantview history, after all. You've never been one for subtlety."

"No, no, I guess not. Mom always said that I was the spitfire in the family. Trent or Callista would have made a more suitable monarch in her eyes, I'm sure. Unfortunately for her, she had me first."

"That's not true and you know it. Trust me, I've learned extensively about the proper role and duties required of just a regent over the past few days and I can honestly say that you need that spark that you have to be a good leader. Trent has always been shy and hesitant; you have no problem making decisions and fighting for what you think I'd best. You stand up to Claudia, but keep her close at the same time. You're a good queen, Maura. Your mother is proud of who you've become."

"Who I've become is a hardened, self-righteous adulterer with two dead kids and a potential war brewing," she sighed wearily. "What's so great about that? Nearly dying has really made me stop to evaluate my life. If I had died, what would people say about me? What would they remember me for?"

"For being strong and kind," Ulyssa supplied. "You're well liked by our people. They trust that you know where to lead this country."

"Well, they shouldn't. I'm a terrible queen. I've openly had affairs, hoping to get caught. I've created a royal bastard out of revenge, and I made Adrian's daughter a rank higher than him, all because his daughters lived and my two children didn't. I'm the worst queen, Ulyssa. Even though my grandmother and her mother did terrible things to keep the throne, they at least knew what they wanted. They had principles they weren't willing to budge on, and I don't have any. I'm a petty, terrible person."

"You're many things, Maura, but you're always the woman I've loved since we were in high school," Ulyssa said quietly, reaching for her wife's hand. To her surprise, Maura reached out and wrapped their hands together. "You're a bitch who has strong opinions and refuses to back down when you think you're right. You like hurting those who hurt you, even if it was by accident. You won't divorce me because you have some weird hangup about divorce that I don't understand. Honestly, Maura, I don't always like the person you are, but I've never seen you act in a way that would threaten your people. You're a good queen, even when you're not always the best person."

Maura nodded. Ordinarily, she'd take offense to her wife's words, but Ulyssa was probably right. She couldn't disagree with her points, even if she had the energy to.

"Ulyssa? Do you still love me? Really love me, I mean. I know you just said that you loved me over the years, but do you still love me the same way you did when we were first married? Do you even want to be with me?"

Maura burst into fresh tears before Ulyssa could give a response.

"We're not what we used to be, and it's all my fault!" she sobbed. "If my mother had lived, we'd still be happy together. We'd probably only have two kids and they would have been born a lot later than our kids. You would have more free time to relax and wouldn't have to deal with all the responsibilities of a queen consort. My mother never mentioned there being a hell when I saw her, but I'm sure that it's real and that's where I'm going to end up when I finally do die."

"When you saw your mother? What does that mean?"

Maura froze, caught in a lie of ommission. She hadn't quite found the words to tell her wife about her experience yet. Telling Claudia was one thing, but Ulyssa didn't have reapers for parents.

"Uhhh...I was going to tell you, I wasn't sure of what to say," Maura admitted. Beside her, Ulyssa crossed her arms defensively. "When I was unconscious, when you were queen regent, I saw my mom again. I don't know if it was real or a dream, but Claudia thinks it was real and that my spirit wandered away from my body, but-"

"Claudia knows about this, but I don't?" Ulyssa snapped. "What the hell, Maura? You remember what happened while I was busy running your country and you didn't tell me? Why?"

"Well, Claudia has reapers for parents, and I just wanted to be sure that it wasn't just a dream. I was going to tell you this week once I had more time to think about it. It's been so busy, and I didn't want to get anything wrong."

Ulyssa raised an eyebrow at this explanation but remained silent. That excuse was at least plausible, even if it was infuriating. Still, as Maura’s wife, Ulyssa should have been told about a near death experience and they could have talked to Claudia together.

"I saw my mom," Maura confessed. "She was there to talk to me and I asked her some questions. She told me that my father's still alive. That he might have been kidnapped by the Red Queen all those years ago. I have Adrian and Trent running down leads to find him. Maybe he's been kidnapped this whole time, just waiting for someone to rescue him! I have to try to look for him."

Maura tried not to look suspicious, but probably didn't succeed. If Ulyssa was pissed off about Maura not telling her about seeing her mother, then Ulyssa would definitely be furious that her wife didn't immediately tell her about seeing their lost children. It was better to just leave her with the information from Claudia's parents that she already found comfort in. How would Ulyssa ever even find out that Maura had withheld the information? It was highly unlikely that Claudia would ever talk to Ulyssa nicely again, and her parents never spoke about work or the afterlife if it wasn't important. Ulyssa would never know and she therefore couldn't be angry at Maura for confiding about their children with someone else.

"Your father is alive?" Ulyssa gasped. She looked shocked enough to only ask questions on that subject. "How? Wouldn't there be a ransom if a foreign queen took the crown princess' father? She should have at least wanted to gloat about it. Most psychopaths in movies like to gloat.

And are you sure it was Queen Charlotte? Did your mom really say it was her? There were more dangerous people than the Red Queen back then. Was your great-grandfather, Ben, still alive? I mean, we have to hold the Goldman Memorial Ball every year now for everything he did to just one of his kids. The man liked murder, and he didn't care if he killed family or not. There's that creepy lot on our border with Strangetown that he used to use for god only knows what, after all."

Maura paused to consider this explanation. It wasn't a bad idea. She wasn't sure when King Ben had died in relation to her father, but her grandmother knew about that lot. Crystal Cove's Queen Celeste attacked the Red Queen of Pleasantview and locked her prisoners in the cells that authorities had discovered there. It was a place that was well known by her ancestors. There was a real possibility that her father had been taken there at some point. It wasn't much, but it was a lead.

"It's worth looking into," Maura conceded. "I mean, Queen Charlotte is the obvious suspect, but you're right, I need to keep an open mind."

She reached out to embrace her wife, and to her grateful surprise, Ulyssa accepted the hug.

"I do still love you," Ulyssa said. "The answer to your question earlier is yes. I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. Even if you're a little petty sometimes, none of that matters. We're not the same people that we used to be, true, but I want to work through things and be a team again. Can we be a team going forward, Maura?"

"I'd like that." Maura released her wife with a small smile.

"Claudia did mention something weird about Zane during our talk. Something about how he was pissing everyone off in Arkhelios? Has she mentioned anything weird like that to you?"

"Not that I remember," Maura replied honestly. "We don't really talk about Arkhelios unless we have to discuss Victoriana's father. Which we almost never do, by the way."

"That's strange. I wonder if it was part of the message from her parents then. Though, I can't imagine why Zane would cross paths with the Goldmans."

The sound of tears interrupted the couple. The children were downstairs being watched by the royal guards while their parents struggled to find a path forward. They had been quiet so far, but clearly the queen and consort had run out of time for adult conversations. They still had a family to protect.

"It's okay, honey. We'll go home now and make some hot chocolate," Ulyssa promised as Adrion clung to her. "We can all change into our pajamas and read a story together. Our family has changed shape a little in this lifetime, but you'll always have your brother and sister watching over you. We'll see them again, I promise."

"Your baby sister is waiting for us back at home," Maura added, stroking Georgiana's back soothingly. "We need to be strong for her and for our people. It's our job to make sure that our subjects feel safe and we can't let them down."

Ulyssa fought back a groan at her wife's words. They had been raised quite differently, and the children did have royal duties to perform, but couldn't Maura hear how callous her words would be to a grieving child? The Durant family was overly affectionate, especially Jorah, and there had still been duties expected of them in Arkhelios. Maura couldn't hate the fear her grandmother had inspired in her about royal duty and still pass on that same mindset to her own children.

But then again, not learning how to guard their minds from the stress and the danger of the crown didn't help them either. Surely, there had to be a compromise between letting their kids just be kids and dumping the same trauma on them that had shaped their mother's capacity for cruelty and spite.

Viola watched her parents guardedly. They had been gone on the upper floor of the tomb for what felt like days and for once, they didn't seem to be shouting at each other. Things would never be the same without her siblings, but maybe, just maybe, they could make it through this as a family.

#sims 2 #arkhelios #arkhelios adventures #ulyssa durant #maura siew #viola siew #adrion siew #georgiana siew

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year ago

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Birthday Event: My Beloved

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors. This is a rough translation.

I want to celebrate with all my heart that you, my beloved, were born into this world.

One afternoon.

Mitsuki: "Alright, next question."

Drake: "Hm, go ahead."

Mitsuki: "You don't have any likes or dislikes, so do you have any favorite foods in particular?"

After having a meal with him, I bombarded him with questions.

Drake: "Food, huh? I like both meat and fish, but if I had to pick a favorite..."

Drake: "Oh, pudding!"

(Hehe, he's so cute.)

Drake: "I mean the dessert kind of pudding. It's completely different from the pudding I used to eat before. It's really delicious."

Mitsuki: "Are there any other types of pudding besides dessert pudding?"

Drake: "Yup. Sailors often make a pudding by steaming leftovers with eggs during voyages."

Drake: "Once, I mixed a bunch of stuff a bit too much, and it ended up tasting really awful."

Drake: "That taste was so terrible that I'd rather starve to death than eat it."

Mitsuki: "Sounds intense. Alright, I'll note that your favorite dessert is pudding."

Mitsuki: "Then, what's your favorite drink?"

Drake: "Rum. Oh, and mojitos. You know, the one with lime and mint added to rum. I like that too."

He occasionally pondered and answered the questions while I nodded and wrote the answers in my notebook.

Writing this sort of made me feel like Sebastian.

Mitsuki: "Alright, next question. Is there something you want right now?"

Drake: "You."

Drake: “I want you, little fawn.”

He looked straight at me, and in an instant, my heart started pounding.

Mitsuki: “That’s not what I meant. Geez.”

(He always manages to make my heart race whenever he gets the chance.)

Drake: “Haha! It’s true. But man, you have a lot of questions today.”

Mitsuki: “This is an important survey. Okay, last question.”

Mitsuki: “When is your birthday?”

Drake: “----!”

That’s right. I was asking these questions in preparation for his birthday because I’d never heard of him celebrating it.

(That's why, from now on, I will prepare the things he likes and celebrate him.)

I was getting excited just thinking about making him happy. However, Drake furrowed his eyebrows and seemed to be struggling to answer.

Drake: “Birthday, huh? Um, September, I think.”

Mitsuki: “Drake, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own birthday?”

I asked, and he let out a troubled laugh.

Drake: “Well, that’s a possibility. I must have forgotten without realizing it.”

(I didn’t find his birthday in history books, so I had to ask him directly, but I can’t believe he forgot about it. How is that even possible?)

He rested his hand on his chin as I tilted my head in confusion, wondering if it was something easily forgotten.

Drake: “I think I celebrated it with my parents, but I moved from town to town and eventually got separated from them. I guess that’s when I forgot my birthday.”

Drake had a childhood where he had to flee from his mother’s relatives.

After that, he became an orphan and struggled to survive until a pirate ship picked him up. That was probably why he hadn’t had the luxury of counting the days or enjoy the changing seasons.

(In that case, it’s not surprising he forgot.)

Thinking about his life made my heart tighten.

Mitsuki: “But at least you remember it’s in September.”

Drake: “Nah. I decided it was in September from some point in the past.”

His answer made me blink again.

Mitsuki: “So, does that mean you chose your own birthday?”

Drake: “Well, something like that. I think, oh yeah, it’s September 7.”

(Does September 7 hold any special meaning?)

Mitsuki: “Why did you choose September 7 as your birthday?”

He looked a little distant and began to speak quietly after I asked about the reason for that specific date.

Drake: "That was when I was just recruited by the Queen."

------------Flashback------------

The year was 15××, September 7th.

Noble 1: "To our great ruler, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, we wholeheartedly celebrate this day of your birth!"

Noble 2: "Long live Her Majesty the Queen!"

Queen Elizabeth: "Rejoice and enjoy the night to your heart's content."

Nobles knelt before Queen Elizabeth, the most dignified woman in the room. On this day, a lavish party was being held at the palace in England to celebrate the Queen's birth.

In a corner of that grand hall, Drake and his crew members huddled together.

Drake: "Wow, royal parties are quite something."

Crewmate 1: "Hey, Captain. Doesn't it seem kinda weird for us pirates to be in a place like this?"

Crewmate 2: "Yeah, even though we've got fancy drinks and food right here, it just feels kinda scary to actually go for them."

Drake: "You're right."

---------Flashback Ends---------

Drake: "That year, we were invited to the birthday party as the Queen's pirates."

Drake: "But we were just a bunch of ruffians who lived on the sea."

Drake: "Being suddenly invited to the palace completely overwhelmed us."

Mitsuki: "True. Being in the same room with all those important people must have been nerve-wracking."

Drake: "Exactly."

Drake: "Well, that's how the Queen planted a sense of subservience in us, pirates who had enjoyed our freedom."

Drake: "I guess that was also the Queen's intention."

Hearing his words, I recalled the glimpse of his meeting with the Queen that I had seen through his past.

(The Queen seemed to have gotten hold of him under the pretext of a deal.)

(It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to have thought about it that way.)

Drake: "But becoming like a toothless shark would tarnish our reputation."

Drake: "If I, as the captain, were seen bowing to authority, my crew wouldn't find that respectable."

Drake: "And it wouldn't be fun to be constantly manipulated by the Queen."

Perhaps recalling his old feelings, a fleeting sharpness appeared in his eyes.

Drake: "So, I did something to maintain the reputation of the pirates."

Mitsuki: "What did you do?"

He took a sip from the tankard of ale he had ordered and smirked mischievously.

Drake: "I stole her birthday."

Part 2╎Sweet╎Premium End╎Epilogue

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp drake #ikevamp #ikevamp francis #ikevamp jp #ikevamp translation #francis drake #cybird

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vivi-taylorsversion · 2 years ago

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Good Grief

TW: Major angst, death, implied suicide, a lot more probably, loss of a close family member. Please do not read this if you think it will be triggering to you. If I have missed anything here PLEASE inform me as soon as possible.

Stan twins x littlesister!deceased!reader | Platonic (obviously | Good Grief - Bastille | NOT MY GIFS

WC: 1179

Shut my eyes and count to ten. It goes in one ear out the other, one ear out the other. Burning bright right till the end

The twins ran back to the pawn shop they called their home with all the speed their teenage bodies could muster, worry and adrenaline making them much faster than usual. The two twins had heard all the murmurs and mutters that had circulated around the small town they lived in that were revolved around one member of the Pines’ family. (Y/N) Pines. Little sister to Stanley and Stanford Pines. Daughter to Filbrick and Caryn Pines. Friend and acquaintance to many of the townsfolk.

All these whispers had sent the boys into a panic. They rushed home the second they heard one of them. It couldn’t be true. No, it’s their sister. Their cheerful, adorable, tiny, little sister. It’s not true. It can’t be... can it? They reached the small, pawn shop and rushed up the stairs to their home above the crappy, old store. Ford reached for the door handle, but hesitated. Stanley usually would’ve just shoved my him at this point, opening the door himself. Strangely, the boy took no action, seemingly dreading having to behold the sight of their sisters absence.

Ford knew he had to open the door. He couldn’t just walk away as though nothing had happened. He counted to ten in his head, attempting to mentally prepare both him and his twin for whatever information they’d learn when they burst through the door. With a shaking hand, he reluctantly turned the door knob, causing the door to quietly creak open. They entered, quickly realising what they had heard was true. There, sat on the couch, was their mother and father. This would be normal, however, they were crying. Hell, not crying, sobbing. They were holding each other tightly, whispers and murmurs of their daughter’s name falling from their lips unsteadily. They looked up at the boys with bloodshot, puffy eyes. Their mother sniffled before their father began to speak.

“St-Stanley...St-Stanford... y-your sister... sh-she.....”

He was cut off unexpectedly by his weeping wife.

“She’s dead...”

She sobbed out, beginning to cry even harder. The twins felt dizzy. This couldn’t be possible. They had heard it all over town but still so desperately hoped that they were wrong. They’d heard it from so many different sources yet still hoped that somehow they were mistaken. Somehow they had mistaken their loving sister for somebody else and she was still alive and well, sitting in her bedroom doing her homework while listening to her favourite music. Still happy and alive like she was before they left, at least they thought she was happy...

They couldn’t even gather any words. Their minds were racing so fast each and every question and thought that rushed through their heads were quickly interrupted by another, then another, then another until all that was going through their heads was a frenzy of jumbled questions and words that were unable to fall from their chapped lips, not matter how hard they tried to force them to. Their hands shook viciously by their sides. The sounds of sobbing, small murmurs and mutters and the boys’ heavy breathing echoed in the room, (Y/N)’s absence having such a great affect that had never occurred to any of the Pines’.

They never knew that they’d have to say goodbye to her so soon, they never knew she wasn’t going to outlive them as they originally thought. The Pines’ parents were already in their mid-forties to early fifties and Stanley and Ford were seventeen, whereas you were only fifteen when your final breath was stolen from you. It wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t have been you. You were so sweet, so caring, so adoring. It wasn’t fair. It just was not fair.

Now you'll be missing from the photographs, missing from the photographs.

It was time. The day every single member of the Pines had been dreading. Yet they knew it was time. They had to change the picture above their mantelpiece. At that point in time, it had been a family photo.

The photo in question captured: Caryn, Filbrick, Stanley, Stanford and (Y/N), the children sitting on their sofa, wide grins proudly displayed on their faces. Stan and Ford had their arms hooked around their younger sister, while she sat in the middle. Their parents stood behind the couch with their father having his arm slung around their mother’s waist with a firm expression whilst his wife’s displayed a much softer and far more joyful one - nowhere near as joyful as their children’s expressions, though.

The photograph brought back dear memories, their sister's giggles, their father's insistence of the three of them to settle down and, of course, the ability to hold (Y/N). But they knew it was time, they couldn't keep the photo there. It would simply cause misery and bring back traumatic memories.

The family gathered around the sofa, sending them all into a state of deja vu. They tried to shake it off quickly, concentrating on what they were doing, attempting to numb the pain. The two boys sat in the middle of the sofa, fake smiles on their faces. Their parents sat either side of their children, their mother beside Stanley and their father beside Stanford. Their sister's absence seemed to become more and more apparent by the second. Filbrick kept his stern, emotionless expression, Caryns demeanour had changed since the previous photo though... Instead of a warm, motherly, sincere smile, she displayed the smallest of a forced smile. Their children were looking at the small gap between them. The gap their sister would usually squeeze into.

Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers. In my thoughts you're far away and you are whistling the melody, whistling the melody.

It was the day of the funeral. The boys were a wreck. Everyone was, in all honesty. Filbrick wore his sunglasses to hide his glossy eyes, while their mother made no attempt at hiding her sadness. She lost her baby girl. She was inconsolable. Stan and Ford couldn't even cry. They were broken, the loss of their sister physically and mentally broke them. They just felt.. empty without her. She was a ray of sunshine, that one good thing that happens at the end of a horrible day, a smile in a crowd of frowns. She didn't deserve this, she was such a sweet girl. As their friends and family gathered, the ceremony came to a start. Their father and the twins carried the coffin, alongside their grandfather and a close friend of yours. They placed the coffin down and took their seats. Ford covered his eyes, watching through his fingers.

He couldn't do it. He needed her. Why did she have to leave them so so early?

That wasn't how it was meant to be. It was meant to be just the three of them. Stan, Ford and (Y/N) that's how it had always been. Just the three of them. Only then did it dawn on Ford, that it was just him and Stan now. No more seeing your cheerful grin that could light up a room. Just you, lying still in a coffin, surrounded by flowers with an unmoving face, stuck in a permanent look of sorrow. He closed the gaps between his fingers, no longer being able to bear looking at the girl who had once been so energetic and joyful.

Crystallizing clear as day. Oh, I can picture you so easily, picture you so easily

#gravity falls #angst #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stan pines #ford pines x reader #stan pines x reader #ur fav inactive writer #ford pines x sister!reader #stan pines x sister!reader #gravity falls x platonic!reader

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forestgoblinvibes · 2 years ago

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TASK FORCE 141 X MALE!READER (PLATONIC TO START)

CHAPTER ONE: PROTECT HER

WARNING: The following contains mentions and descriptions of death, blood, cursing, bones breaking, torture, shooting

AN: This will be the first chapter in many. My goal is to post once a week at the end of the week based on my own life and availability and the response/feedback from readers! Please enjoy!!

WORD COUNT: A LOT

‘Too much anger can make you lash out. Don’t lose control’

Your fathers voice echoed in your head and shortly numbed the dull ache throughout your body. Your head throbbed, your throat was so dry it felt like sand paper and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Someone was calling out to you and it sounded so far away. Your head lulled to the side

Telling your family you’d be joining the military right after high school at eighteen surprised them to say the least. Your mother, protective and loving tried to persuade you to do otherwise but when she saw the determination you had, she of course supported you. Even if it scared her.

Your father was proud and worried. Made you promise to come home to them safe. He hugged you the longest on your last day before basic training

And your baby sister, you were her superhero, her big brother her best friend and protector. She was two years old when you left. She cried for hours when you left. But to the best of her ability, would write letters and draw you pictures along with your parents while in basic training.

“Y/N! Wake up!” Someone’s voice called out agin, this time more clear. You could hear they were scared.

You tried to open your eyes, this time succeeding if only partially. Taking in your surroundings wasn’t to hard, you’re in a dimly lit room sitting in a semi circle with two other people from what you could tell.

That’s when your brain started to get back on track and register the pain you’re in, as well as how you got there.

Basic training felt like a fun day at the beach now that you think back to it. While you were given a hard time and thrown challenges left and right you would take it all again then being on this shit show if a mission.

“Dagger give me a sit rep” you called into the coms over the gunfire ahead. This wasn’t your first mission, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Lookin’ solid here kitty, Lana’s here but their com is down, their unharmed. What about you and Capt’n Nova?” She responded in a light tone. Dagger, that’s her call sign, was the light during shitty situations. On a normal day her tone would be enjoyed.

Today it reminded you that it could be the last time you hear her.

“You can’t be takin’ a cat nap at a time like this kitty” that same light tone masked her fear. Masked the wheezing, troubled breathing of the third person in the room. “They did a number on you this time..” now here voice sounded more concerned, tense and shaky.

“Y’know I hate that call sign. Give me a sit rep yeah?” you grumble and pull at your restraints, wincing as the thick rope rubbed the skin raw. But it’s rope, you can get out of this, can save your team. “How long have we been here?” You ask, brain still foggy as you run through memories.

“ I- m’ tired” was the response from lana, they sounded drunk, weak and raspy.

“Gotta stay awake yeah L? You owe me a beer remember. Only been two days maybe? Jus’ stay awake” Dagger pleaded quietly. The team was close, family. But the talking was cut short but a door being slammed open.

“Nova’s gone, h…he got hit and I couldn’t stop the bleeding” your tone was shaky as you shouted in the com’s and looked at your captains dead form. A reminder that you could be next. A reminder that no mission was perfect.

Raising your gun you peered around the corner of the crumbling wall you used as cover. The enemy had larger numbers than what you were prepared for. This was supposed to be a simple mission to gather intel. But the information given to your team was either wrong or old and ended in an ambush.

“Ki- e-eat!” Your coms crackled to life but was full of static. Your heart was pound in your ears at this point. Anxiety making your skin prickle with the animal under your skin begging to escape the situation

“Repeat! Dagger repeat!!” You shouted while shooting down two enemy soldiers who grew to close.

“RETREAT!!”

“Ahhh everyone’s awake, good. Let’s get back to business” a man with a gruff and heavy Russian accent spoke.

“Why did you come here, and don’t lie. My patience for your lot has run thin. And one of you isn’t looking to well” he continues and walked towards Lana, who looked like they were barely breathing at this point.

You looked at Dagger, her face was stoic but her eyes held her fear. Now that you were more aware you could see she was badly beaten. One eye was swelled shut, blood was caked near her hair, she was visibly shaking.

You couldn’t tell nor care what state you were in. No, for now you focused on your task. Using your claws to scratch and wear down the ropes around your wrist.

But the both of you staid silent. Both of you endured the beatings and torture. But Lana, after two days they fell asleep and didn’t wake back up. Dagger cried and screamed at their death, cursed out your tormentors and threatened them with a renewed energy as they dragged her away. You gained a renewed energy but in the form of pure anger, it fueled you to rip through the worn down ropes once the doors were closed.

Deep down it scared you to touch into this anger. But her safety was all that mattered.

The first time you shifted in front of your permanent team was right after basic training and before your first mission. In basics you had to shift in front of other recruits and spar with them in your panther from. It gave both you and the other recruits a send of mind to be ready for everything.

But with your new team you had hoped to at least hide it. It’s not that you weren’t proud of being a shifter, you were very proud. But you didn’t want to be treated differently and not everyone could be as accepting.

“It’s just a trust exercise” your captain explained.

“We all need to trust each other to be a working team. So no secrets” he continued before turning your teammates attention to you.

Your shift was fluid, bones popping effortlessly with minimal discomfort as your once human body changed into the form of a oversized black panther. Your eyes became an emerald green instead of the honey gold they normally held.

Your captain continues as you stretch, eyeing your companions cautiously. Looking for any signs of fear or disgust.

“Y/N here can’t speak to us while like this. So before our first mission we will need to figure out a quick and easy way to communicate with each other” he said rather proudly.

Nova, his call sign, was the oldest in the group. Being forty-two he was your leader. Then there was Lana, she was thirty and from what you knew had no call signs. Then there was Dennis her call sign Dagger. You found out why when you first shifted. She’s the same age as you, 23 both young.

“So your a giant fuckin’ cat? Ha! That’s what imma call you. Kitty!” She was quickly and sharp with her words. Leaving little to no room to argue. And so your first call sign was created

You had growled at her and she started calling you ‘grumpy cat’ in response

Dagger jumped at the suddenness of you breaking free. They had done a number on both of you after Lana died. Trying to get information you didn’t even have.

After freeing your hands you did the same for your legs and stood up quickly, it was time to get out. Only thing is, as soon as you stood you were falling. Days of being seated, beaten and starved left your body weak. Your knees hit the ground painfully but still you pushed on, half crawling to her.

She spoke as your worked on her bindings.

“What are you doing? You can’t just play savior! We have no idea where we are, you look like a corpse and I’m sure I’m no better!” She whisper yelled as you got her hand free.

“I’m not letting you die too, no one’s coming for us obviously. I can get us out” you spoke in a now shaky tone while scratching quickly at the ropes around Daggers ankles.

That’s what you believed, who would come for a team with soldiers practically fresh out of basic. It’s been at least a week. It’s what you thought, your on your own.

Two days after your team’s capture and death if your captain. Kate Laswell called in the best team she knew. Why? Because shifters were rare in the military, because her wife was a shifter so it hit closer to home then she liked.

Now here she sat in her office with John Price, ready to be filled in on why she called.

“Kate,” his voice gruffly broke the silence. “Why send us in? Why not a different team? I need to know what my men will be stepping into to. No need to know crap” he spoke matter of factly and for this matter she obliged.

With a sigh she pulled out four files. One was stamped in big red letters ‘KIA’ the other three were stamped ‘MIA’.

“A team was sent out for a basic intel grab and go there wasn’t supposed to be to many enemy soldiers. But they were ambushed…their captain was killed and we can only assume that the rest were captured..by Russians” she explained while sliding the files to Price.

“That still doesn’t explain why you want us specifically to go in? Why not a different team?” He interjected while reading through the files until he got to yours. Laswell continued

“Y/N L/N, young kid and smart, graduated one of the best in his group. He’s a shifter” she said while letting Price read through the folder. “If he’s alive, I believe he can be a good addition to your Task Force. He’s excellent in the stealth missions he’s done, loyal to the bone. Plus your team could use the fresh blood...”

Price was looking at Laswell now, he could see in her eyes that there was more to this. Something more personal and he understood that. He trusts Laswell. “Where do we start?” Was his only answer.

Dagger was free. The easiest step completed, you both leaned against the wall of the room you’ve been confined to.

“Alright Kitty, what now? We have no weapons, no idea where we are at!” She whisper yelled to you, who much to her concern looked like you were about to pass out.

Your mind was racing, she was right of course, what would you do after the fact. Where would you go? She was your priority, you had to keep her safe. Get her home to her family. But what if you failed?

What if? What if? What if?

“I-“ you take a deep breath to calm yourself, you’d be no use if you started panicking. “I can shift, carry you out of here. If you find a gun take it and start shooting. We can look for a place to lay low. I just need you to keep guard while i shift. Can you do that bug?” you offer your plan tensely. She stared at you, here eyes held so many emotions at once.

Using that nickname, something personal between you both seemed to anchor her in the moment. Give her hope. She nods and stands a bit taller.

You take a few steps back, with your injuries and exhaustion you knew shifting wouldn’t be easy. She didn’t, she needed you strong. You needed to be strong as you crouch down.

It came naturally, not something you had to think about for it to happen. But it hurt, wounds that had caked closed split back open. Bones cracked and moved slowly as if stuck in molasses.

Nothing comes easy in life, as you had started shifting, the sound of heavy foot steps echoed behind the door. Dagger went wide eyed and reacted quickly, pushing a chair against the door in hopes to buy some time.

A pained growl is ripped from you as your shift continues, alerting the man behind the door who started trying to kick the door in.

As soon as the door swings open it’s one man, gun raised and aimed at Dagger. Without hesitation you lunge forward. The only though in your mind

‘Protect her’

By the time a week went but Laswell finally located where you and your team where being held. Some old warehouse in the middle of the jungle that was being used as an outpost for the Russians.

The team had been briefed that their mission was a search and rescue. Get in and out with minimal damage.

They were not told that you were a shifter. Just that it was imperative to find you alive.

“Wheels up in ten!” Price shouted as the task force got their gear and weapons ready.

“wander if this kid is some big wigs son?” It was Soap who questioned curiously, he was met with a grunt from Ghost to his left and Gaz laughed a bit.

“Maybe we’ll be handsomely rewarded” Kyle joked while standing with his things and slapping Soap in the shoulder. “Let’s get this done yeah?”

HAHAHA leaving the first chapter with a sudden stop? A cliff hanger? How incredibly evil. Hahahahh please let me know how you liked this first half!!! My goal is to post once a week with enough feed back.

ANYWAY!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!!

#simon ghost riley #enhanced!reader #shapeshifter!reader #john soap mactavish #john price #soap call of duty #call of duty roach #konig #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #male reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

Text

"The Just and the Wicked" - Morpheus x Wisdom!Reader

[TW: blood, violence, suicide, explicit language]

A/N: Watched Sweetbitter (2018) and honestly it was more of angry binging. Those people were ✨frustrating✨ me. I have already made up so much lore about Pillars of Eternity I keep a separate file in Evernote.

[Check out 'Pillars of Eternity'!] | [Next part: 'Que sera, sera'] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Your idyllic life with Morpheus is interrupted by the visit of your brother, Decay, who informs you that one of Karma's agents, a Palace of Justice, had died. The mystery becomes only stranger when an ancient, unholy fraction seems to be involved - the same one that surely helped Rodrick Burgess in capturing you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 9k

We meet again, dear student! Have you met Hermes again? Well, perhaps he's grown fond of you. I know I have. You are such a great listener, always asking brilliant questions and never interrupting. But enough about you.

You know why you're here, there's no need for me to ask such a rhetorical question. It is also the reason we keep on meeting again and again. Last time we spoke of dreams, wisdom and the strange gift of divinity their union provided. Today, I'd like to tell you a story that my mother used to tell me. In fact, I've heard it from her so many times during my childhood that I'd grow furious any time I heard the word 'karma'. It is only in my old age that I finally understand the importance of this tale. Tell me, when you think of justice, what comes to your mind?

Themis? A great choice! Curiously, she does appear in the story I'm about to tell you. But let me start from the beginning. The coexistence of Decay and Wisdom created Karma. She's not a Pillar of Eternity and neither is she one of the Endless, therefore she falls into the grey area, a truly bottomless sack of wonders, commonly called the Sacra. When humans came into existence, Karma began to have more work than she could possibly handle, so she asked the Pillars to give her something to help her. That's how Themis was created. Her sole purpose was to make sure that justice reigns in the human realm but even justice is a very complex phenomenon. Themis decided to ask Karma for messengers that will deliver different kinds of justice to people. Those messengers are the Palaces of Justice. There are seven of them, well, there used to be seven of them and the circumstances of the death of one of them, the Lion, are the subject of this tale. Everything began when my uncle, Decay, visited my parents in the Dreaming:

The branches of the hazel tree quietly rustled above you as a gentle breeze shyly swayed them in a primaeval dance. A murder of crows sat in the tree but not even Mother Nature could force those ominous birds to interrupt your meditation with their cawing. They were quietly perched on the branches, prepared to take flight into other realms should you ask them to or scare away any distraction that might come your way. The world around was silent but never empty. With each deep breath, your nostrils were filled with the pleasant fragrance of wet soil and hazelnuts but not for too long:

You knew he came and you were sure he was well aware of that. The air in Dreaming suddenly became unbearably sweet as if the unnaturally strong aroma was supposed to cloud senses, distract anyone in the vicinity from something else, something much darker and bleak. The crows above you began cawing nervously as if trying to scare away a mare they couldn't see or inform you of a danger they couldn't name as though the air itself became some eldritch evil. Out of the Pillars of Eternity, Decay had always been the most social one but even he made sure to notify beforehand of his nigh arrival. It was strange for him to show up unannounced - strange enough that you began to suspect something terrible had taken place.

As you stood up, the murder of crows took flight, each one of them travelling to different parts of Dreaming or entirely foreign realms but they will be back the moment you sit down under the hazel tree again - they always are. Their nervous caws filled the air, announcing to each world in this universe that Wisdom watches and listens. Your rushed footsteps echoed through the empty marble palace creating an impression of an entire army following you into the lion's den. Somewhere halfway through your march, you run into Lucienne who, without a doubt, was looking for you to spread the news of Decay's unexpected arrival.

"My lady-" she began.

"I know, Lucienne," you cut her off. "Thank you, nonetheless."

Her surprised stare only followed you as you walked past her and disappeared around the closest corner. But Lucienne had many other affairs to tend to, so she simply carried on with whatever needed her attention next.

Aside from Morpheus, there was someone else in the throne room: he seemed a little too mature to be called a boy but definitely too youthful to be titled a man. His lightly tanned body looked soft and pudgy, conjuring thoughts of warm summer afternoons filled with ripe fruit, laughter and carelessness. Angel-like golden locks fell down his shoulders, glistening in the bright light that crept through the tall stained glass windows in the back of the hall. The guest was talking about one of his adventures in a very animated manner and judging by Morpheus's exhausted face, it surely wasn't the first story he was forced to listen to on that day. Hearing your approaching footsteps, both of them looked in your direction:

"Dear sister!" the young man exclaimed. He was dressed in a white robe that could hardly be called 'decent'. The fairly high-pitched voice, in which he spoke, painted him as even younger than his already quite childish appearance. To your dismay, that tacky seashell necklace was still around his neck. "My heart swells at the sight of you! I apologize for not notifying you about my visit but I'm afraid I'm not here to ponder our relationship and the lovely memories we share."

"Then what is it, Decay?" you asked as you made your way towards him. Being so close to him felt like a mouthful of rose syrup. "The longer you stay in Dreaming, the more its genius loci shall rot towards oblivion. Speak fast, brother."

Decay leaned in towards you. His indigo eyes were bright and his smile as lovely as it was wide, making it a truly ridiculous idea that he was the one making flowers wilt and flesh dissolve. Yes, he was, in fact, akin to the Trojan horse. "I know the spear is in here, Wisdom. My presence will not make a cloud disappear underneath your sky," he whispered. "Speaking of your sky, I'm quite... underwhelmed with your choice of a husband. Is he always this grumpy? You could have gone for someone more, well, similar to you. I'm sure Odin wouldn't think twice before accepting an offer."

The mere mention of that entitled one-eyed man made your head ache. Each day he did not try to strike a deal with you was a blessing. "Abyss shall grow eyes before I consider Odin as something more than an annoyance."

"Now that would be a day, dear sister." Decay could barely contain his excitement. "Do you think having eyes would make him look a little less, you know, empty?"

The thought elicited a quiet chuckle from both of you. Although it was nice to talk to Decay and carelessly joke around like you had done many times before, he was still yet to explain his unforeseen appearance.

"Really, Decay, why did you come here?" you coaxed once the laughter subsided. "To jest? To insult?"

For a moment, he stared at you with a strangely triumphant expression that seemed like genuine happiness only superficially - there was mischief, viciousness in his eyes as though he was gloating at possessing knowledge you did not share with him. After he got his presumed satisfaction, Decay stepped away from you to resume his monologue. You noticed that Morpheus's stern gaze never left your brother's physique as he casually strolled through the throne room. Was Dream expecting trouble? A sudden offence? "I came to inform you about a strange occurrence that needs your insight. I visited Karma not too long ago but not out of my own will. One of the Palaces died."

"Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus repeated slowly. His eyebrows furrowed instantaneously and it was a quite understandable reaction to anyone who knew a thing or two about those strange creatures. "How can a Palace of Justice die?"

"Not by a mortal hand nor by the hand of the Endless," you answered in quiet thoughtfulness. "Is there anything more you've learned, Decay? Tell me, what barbarity preceded this act of treason?"

"Truthfully, I do not know any more than Karma does. Unlike Death," Decay paused to look meaningfully in Dream's direction, "I do not gossip with my subjects, therefore Lion himself did not tell me about his passing. But I did, however, come into possession of something that you might find attractive. It is also, I believe, the very trail at which your insight begins, dear sister."

From the scarce folds of his revealing robe, Decay took out a torn piece of material. It was silvery white, glistening in the diffused rays that lit up Morpheus's palace. There seemed to be something embroidered in a dark thread but the tear run in the middle of the design, making it impossible to tell with utmost certainty what it had once presented. Extrapolating from the remaining lines, one could assume that the silvery, silky material once had an open eye inside a triquetra embroidered on it. There was only one unholy fraction that proudly wore such a sigil:

"Brothers of the Final Truth," you whispered to yourself while still examining the torn material. Finding it on your path, however, posed as many questions as it did answers, dissipating the unpenetrated mists of ignorance. "Without a doubt, the ones that told Rodrick Burgess of Metatron's Cube."

"Well then, I should leave you to it. There are still flowers to wilt and empires to fall. I'd hate to make them wait. Farewell, dear sister." Decay politely bowed his head towards you before looking at Morpheus with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. "Dream of the Endless."

As Decay disappeared, so did the suffocatingly sweet rose smell. You pondered his words - he knew the Spear of Ages was in the Dreaming, at least part of it. The only way for him to know that was if he had tried to make something rot, that sly old fox...

When your brother was finally gone, you swore you could hear Morpheus sigh to himself. He was still sitting on one of the last steps, as he usually did. Dream had a habit of sitting in a quite not noble fashion with his shoulders slouched, back hunched but Decay's leave made his shoulders fall further down as if the visit was a physical burden on him. Perhaps, despite the presence of the Spear of Ages, Morpheus felt a strange heaviness weighing him down, a sudden and inexplicable urge to lie down and close his eyes, even for a moment. "Is your brother usually like this?" he asked in a low voice.

"Funny you should ask. He said the same thing about you."

Perhaps at another time and in another place, they could even be friends.

Entering Karma's residence, the very first thing that grabbed the visitor's attention was the floor or rather a generous interpretation of that term. Underneath a guest's feet was not marble tiling but polished glass that revealed a... pond. Pleasantly fat koi fish leisurely swam in the water of a shade a little too blue to be considered a natural wonder. The carps as if used to anthropomorphic giants walking across their sky, seemed unbothered by another pair of feet stepping over them. Seeing them, a pang of envy erupted in the onlooker's chest: to have no care in the world and a full stomach! What a wonderful fate that was.

Leading away from the throne room were granite corridors with high ceilings and greek pillars. Similarly to Dream's palace, Karma's castle appeared completely empty, deserted even, but given the Hellenistic architecture, there was something poetic to these halls as though they were a forgotten museum or, perhaps, the museum of the forgotten.

"Look above you, Morpheus," you spoke softly as you nudged his shoulder. "I'm honoured to present to you the Palaces of Justice."

There, on the great dome of Karma's castle was a beautiful renaissance fresco. The scene presented a meadow or fields filled with tall grass and neatly trimmed thujas. Among the greenery, however, lurked seven animals: lion, hawk, camel, snake, tiger, jaguar and ox. They each seemed to be aggressive towards all the others but none of them was actually attacking. Curiously, all of them were painted with golden crowns on their heads. It would have been an otherworldly fresco in its grandeur if it wasn't for a strange detail: where the heads of the snake and lion once were, pieces of the ceiling had fallen off. In the middle of the fresco, surrounded by the animals as though they were a wreath, was a scale with a human skull on one side and a decorative globe on the other. In fact, the scale and the mysterious artefacts were identical to the ones standing at the centre of Karma's throne room.

"It's... impressive," he said in an absent voice as he continued to admire the painting.

"Because it's quite far from the truth, I suppose," you answered before walking further into the palace.

In the back of the spacious hall, on the throne which looked more like a decorative park bench to be fair, sat Karma herself. The silky, purple material of her exceptionally long chakkraphat pooled at her feet, falling in cascades down the steep stairs leading up to her exalted seat. The tiny peacocks embroidered on the material looked nearly alive with the amount of detail and vivid colours the unnamed tailor had put into them. Karma’s right arm might not have been covered by her shimmering dress but the densely done mehndi made it impossible to see her olive skin anyway. Red and white paint was covering her face, which wasn't exactly easy to see as she had a habit to fan herself excessively.

Noticing Morpheus and you, Karma hurriedly got up from her throne and bowed so low she nearly sat cross-legged on the floor. Perhaps she did but got up so effortlessly it was hard to tell. In any case, she stayed standing instead of sitting down once more, although it wouldn't be considered impolite as they were guests in her realm.

"My lady Wisdom!" she exclaimed in a nervous voice. "Forgive me but I was not aware of your nigh visit. I'm afraid I can not welcome you as I should."

"Do not fret, Karma," you assured her. "I am here because Decay told me of Lion's passing. I was hoping you could tell me more about this tragedy."

Her eyebrows slanted and she fell down on her throne despite her desire to show you the utmost respect. Considering the amount of paint she wore, her face resembled more of a noh mask rather than something organic. Should one of her muscles twitch a little too intensely, the layers of dried makeup would probably peel right off.

"I do not know much, at least not enough to solve this gut-wrenching mystery," Karma spoke in a plaintive voice. The lability of her emotions seemed surprising at best when one considered that she was the effect of your and Decay's coexistence - neither of you was exceptionally sensitive. "I learned of Lion's passing only when master Decay arrived at my palace. Not an alarm was raised before that, not even a worried whisper reached my ears."

Having experienced unrest among his subjects himself, Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows at Karma's statement of genuine obliviousness. How could she not know that one of her people died? "Have you not noticed anything strange?" he asked.

"The scale remains balanced, Lord Morpheus." She gestured towards the scale with a skull and a globe that stood behind you. "As it has been for the past thousands of years."

"What of Lion?" you continued the inquiry. "Did he appear out of the ordinary?"

"I do not believe so. Had anything happened to him, I'm sure Themis would have told me."

Considering different possible scenarios of Lion's last moments, you found yourself looking at the fresco again. The teeth and sheer scale of the animals painted beamed with might and pride. Alas, two of them were no longer part of this exalted fellowship and one could only wonder whether such losses had something in common.

"I remember the day Viper was exiled," you spoke up after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Human hearts began to tremble and never stopped, even to this day. Feelings of guilt haunt them both when they're awake and in their dreams..." drawing out your monologue, you looked at the mistress of the palace again. "Has she returned ever since?"

"She remains exiled," Karma answered with certainty. Nervous, she seemed to fan herself more frantically. "If Viper had returned, I would be immediately notified, my lady."

"I do not doubt the loyalty or competence of your subjects, Karma. What I'm suggesting is that Viper can make others believe quite literally anything with her silver tongue and poisonous words. It is not beyond her power to make your guards believe they had never seen her."

Your words echoed through the empty palace like a brass bell that tolls to announce someone's passing. Karma left her mouth open agape. Even her experienced wrist stopped fanning her for a moment. Those big, violet and theatrically teary eyes stared at you with unspeakable horror and woe as though you had said something completely unthinkable. Even the peacocks on her fan seemed to have their dead, vacant gaze set on you.

"Those are dreadful words, your worship," she quietly stated. Had her voice been any lower, one might have assumed it was but a gust of wind, chiming and whistling as it travelled through the empty granite halls.

"That they are, my dear," you continued. One might have wondered how come such a frail, sensitive creature had to overlook something so important like the balance of the universe? "But that doesn't make them any less true. Would Viper have any reason to kill Lion?"

"Barbarity is in her nature, I'm afraid." Karma resumed the fanning motion. For a moment, her gaze fell to the floor, admiring the careless koi fish underneath your feet. "Themis should be more acquainted with any possible grudges the Palaces might hold against one another. Should I call for her, my lady?"

"It would prove very helpful."

In a sharp, echoing thud, Karma folded her fan giving all the prying eyes an exceptionally rare possibility of seeing her entire face. Holding the wooden accessory in her hand, she hit the gong standing beside her throne. The low but bright sound resounded through the palace, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony that brought pain to your head and vibration to your bones.

From one of the long, empty halls emerged a tall, muscular woman. Her dark, wavy hair danced on the wind as she walked but not as wildly as it, probably, wanted to - a piece of thick material wrapped around her eyes was restraining its frolicking. The textile was originally white, starting to grey with time and grime, but that was not the change in colour one should have been paying attention to: there were two brown, circular stains where her eyes presumably were. The woman walked barefoot with her arms stretched out far in front of her. On top of them, she carried a steel sword. As water underneath her feet reflected bright light coming through the tall windows, it created beautiful, dancing meanders on the floor-facing side of the blade. Something about her appearance made Morpheus flex the muscles of his back and shoulders as if he was checking whether he's standing straight enough.

"I have arrived, my lady Karma," the woman spoke in a low voice. Although she didn't speak very loudly, her words seemed to be carried especially well through the domed throne room. It was as if the sound of her voice was not heard by your ears but by the very fibre of your body. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Themis, whatever my guests ask you, you must answer."

"Of course, my lady Karma."

Turning to face Morpheus and you, Themis grabbed the handle of the sword and putting both of her hands around it, shoved the tip of the blade into the glass flooring. Thankfully, it did not break. The fish seemed greatly unmoved by the almost catastrophe. Humans could learn a thing or two from them.

Closely watching the deity, you strolled around Themis, taking in her form from all angles. Morpheus, on the other hand, stood beside the two of you and simply stared at your strange method of interrogation. "Since her exile, did Viper return to this palace?" you asked

"I have not seen Viper, the Palace of Justice, since my lady Karma decided to exile her," Themis answered in an official tone. Her voice remained unwavering.

"You did not answer the question, Themis," Morpheus stated. The goddess of justice, however, remained unmoved at this accusation and simply awaited your further inquiry.

"Do you know what happened to Lion?"

"I do not know how Lion, the Palace of Justice, died."

You stopped your bizarre activity to look at Themis's face. Like a marble statue, it remained unmoved but not in the same way Morpheus refused to be open about his emotions. Although she was a lot closer creation-wise to humans than him, not a speck of humanity seemed to reside under her skin. But that observation could hardly be surprising, not to you at least - it was your own design, all of it. A shiver of suspicion danced along your spine. She wasn't lying but she wasn't truthful either. Perhaps there must come the day when children turn on their parents, even metaphorically.

Morpheus inconspicuously leaned in to voice your own thoughts: "She knows what happened but refuses to tell."

"We have to trust that her silence is meaningful and not an omen of ill will," you whispered back but never let Themis out of your sight. "Perhaps by not telling us the truth, proper justice can be delivered." Only then did you speak up: "You are dismissed, Themis."

"Thank you, your worship," she answered.

Effortlessly, Themis pulled her shining sword from the glass floor. The rift where the blade once resided sealed itself, leaving absolutely no indication that even a scratch fell on the glass. Once again holding her sword in a strangely offering manner, the goddess of justice bowed low in front of you. Then, she turned around and left the throne room, disappearing around one of the antique, granite pillars decorating Karma's castle.

"We shall take our leave, Karma. You have been most helpful. Until this lonely path unites us again, my dear."

"I will await that day, your worship," she answered. By the sound of her voice, you could tell she was smiling, although the frantically moving fan was in the way of confirming your suspicion.

Having exchanged your farewells, you turned around and marched towards the entrance. Koi carps still swam under your feet without a care in the world, while the mighty Palaces of Justice stared at your back from the ceiling. Despite having no face on the fresco, you felt the eyes of Viper and Lion burning into your skin - one stalking and one pleading but both equally furious. Out of the corner of your eye, you looked at Morpheus's sharp features, so serious and regal but he couldn't fool you even if he tried. Dream of the Endless was dealing with things well above his 'paygrade', forces that were beyond him in the great scheme of creation. His blood, should he shed even a drop during this strange investigation, will stain your skin through all the cycles that are yet to happen. For the first time in long aeons, you were responsible for someone's life. By the warmth with which you had welcomed such a burden, you could tell that you'd aged.

The doors separating Karma's palace from the rest of her realm had a scene carved into each of the wings: one side presented a pack of wolves hunting a hare while the other showed a group of men aiming their rifles at a wolf. That's what Karma really stood for - an eye for an eye, a life for a life. When they were forced to open or close, the mechanism moving the door let out a rhythmic ticking, easily confused with the sound of a clock. Perhaps it was a silly coincidence or Karma wanted to remind each and every person that crossed the threshold of her land, that nothing in the universe is static. If you're hunting the hare, beware of the men with rifles because they will come. They always find you just like you always find the hare.

"Sad thing what happened to dear Lion," a male voice spoke up. He had a rough accent, vividly pronouncing his Rs. "He was a good lad, always bravely taking on whatever Themis threw at him. Honestly, I kind of felt bad for him after the last... perplexity. In his defence, he really thought he had it."

The man had dark skin roughly the colour of a brick. His luscious black hair was braided into a complex coiffure decorated with various feathers, each belonging to a different bird and only some of them came from earthly animals. He was dressed in a hand-weaved vest with nothing underneath it. Despite his strong, handsome features, his face looked somehow mischievous and vicious but that could easily be accredited to the white, long scar running straight down his face. Around him, the air smelled of musk and pine needles as though he was a forest beast only pretending to be a young man. In a quite defying manner, considering who he was speaking to, the stranger was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed on his chest.

"What perplexity do you mean, Hawk?" you coaxed him but, truthfully, you had hardly any hope to learn anything significant from him. If Hawk had any relatives, he'd sell them just to strike a personal deal with someone - that's the kind of creature he was. Despite such... affliction, he was proficient at his duties as a Palace of Justice, therefore everyone simply went along with his aggravating business model.

"Now that is a really good question, your worship: what do I mean?" he continued in a thrilled voice. A mischievous smile appeared on his face revealing his strangely sharp teeth. "I suppose I could tell you, I probably even should, but I'm a beast of business, not charity."

"You are in no place to make demands," Morpheus warned him.

"And you are in no place to dismiss my offer," he answered without the smallest falter in his smile. "Desperation is a sweet, sweet thing, Dream of the Endless."

Perhaps it was beneath you to submit to an egotistic agent of a Sacra's servant but the possibility of someone capable of killing Palaces of Justice simply running around unaccounted for was far worse. "What do you want?"

"I may have the best sight in this cycle but there is one place even my sight can not reach," Hawk spoke as he leaned towards you in a secretive manner, "Dreaming, the universe's unconscious. Bring me a feather from the tail of his raven," Hawk motioned towards Morpheus standing right next to you, "and I will tell you what I know."

You simply stared at him for a moment, pondering the consequences of your choice. But this... this you can just as freely take away as you give it. Out of thin air, with a graceful flick of your wrist, you conjured a black feather. It had a slight golden shimmer to it. "You will find this one sufficient," you stated as you handed the feather to Hawk.

Hawk studied the feather for a moment. His delicate hand brushed against the softness of the gift. "Yes, it should work just fine..." Examining it from all angles, Hawk finally reached into his long hair and threaded the new feather into one of his small braids. "Now, the case of our dear Lion. All of it is a real tear-jerker, your worship. Have you heard of the butterfly effect? You know, one small thing leading to a series of horrible events that only a person with more than one brain cell could predict? So, our little lion cub was deceived one time. Black magic that even made me shudder, no doubt the work of one of the Brothers of the Final Truth. It's funny that they claim to be this ancient, exclusive cult but if you can prove you're deranged enough they will let you in on a secret or two. In any case, someone got a hold of a Serpent Lock sigil, effectively locking Lion away from a considerable part of the truth. Everything was pointing at the teenage girl, so he did this heavenly duty of executing justice. Get it? Executing? Anyway, it turned out that it was the girl that put the Serpent Lock on the grimoire or some dairy and only after her untimely death did Lion learn what had actually happened. Long story short, he dealt with the wrong person and it should have been the mother. For the first time in this cycle, justice was served wrong and on top of that, the funniest part of this shit, it was the poster boy that did it."

"So Viper had nothing to do with this?" Morpheus asked. You caught his quick stern gaze as though the two of you were exchanging thoughts and theories.

"Quite the contrary. You need to learn to keep up, Lordy Morphy. She's the sole reason I'm telling you this story. Think about this: Lion, the symbol of power, family, strength, bravery and fuck knows what else, kills himself. It even sounds weird, doesn't it? That's when my slithering sister comes in with her guilt-tripping and intrusive thoughts. She whispers a thing or two, Lion stupidly listens, scratches his face off and scene!"

"I was under the impression that Viper and you don't cross paths as a rule," you questioned Hawk's honesty. Whenever these two were in each other's field of vision, catastrophes liked to stroll by but no one could tell anymore why they were like that. "Why change your mind now?"

"Lion's gone and, just like when that slimy serpent was exiled, the ones who are left have to clean up their mess. Doing my own load was enough but taking on theirs? That's ridiculous. I want Viper to get her own decisions to bite her in the ass, finally. You know, my lady, it's quite funny how she always manages to get out of every mess just fine."

"You're a Palace of Justice, Hawk," you reminded him. Somehow, in all those long centuries, he had forgotten the splendour of his own title or, perhaps, got too comfortable with it. "Vengeance is beneath you." The contempt in your voice made Morpheus slightly shift his body in discomfort.

"And what is justice if not lawful vengeance?" Hawk answered you. Clearly, he wasn't there to listen to your preaching. He was done with the drama he had to be part of. "Anyway, there are no rules regarding violence among Palaces, so I trust that you're the one who's going to make a judgement in this case. Themis's sword can't call Viper anymore but it shouldn't be a problem. Here." From the pocket of his saggy, sand-coloured pants, Hawk pulled out a handful of scales that had a strange glisten to them. "Toodles."

With such a perfect summary of his careless disrespect, he changed from his human form into an actual hawk and flew away. In truly comedic timing, both you and Morpheus let out a tired sigh. Dealing with Hawk may have been infuriating but you had Viper's scales - and that meant you could summon her.

"What manner of a feather was that?" Morpheus asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"If you're asking whether I pluck a feather from your beloved Jessamy's tail, I did not. Think, dear Morpheus, who could have allowed your messenger to effortlessly travel between realms?"

His gaze lingered on you as though at first he didn't quite believe the implication. Then, a small smile crept unto his face as his expression beamed with wonder. The more he knew about you, the stronger he felt that all of him and Dreaming were a dollhouse you carved with your own hand. Left alone for a day too long, the dolls of the house began living on their own but the mark of their creator remained.

But that sense of wonder and awe washed away in favour of his ever-broad ego. "Was it truly necessary to succumb to Hawk's fractious demands?"

"Do not be mistaken, Morpheus, I did not want to give in to Hawk but there is not much else we can do at this point. This is one of those choices humanity always fails: pride or progress? Whether I complete his request or not, he will remain only a Palace of Justice and I will remain the Pillar of Eternity."

One day he was bound to learn from you that confidence was silent, it neither boasts nor demands but remains humble as it makes the right choice; a head unbowed is a head that favours clout over its true worth.

"What now, Wisdom? We have no way of knowing where Viper resides. As much as I dislike this, we could ask the three Graces."

Truthfully, they were only slightly more likeable compared to Odin. "That will not be necessary. The scales Hawk gave me will summon Viper but only if they're burnt in the same realm she's in. For now, I'm afraid I have to agree with you: there is no way for us to know where she is. You, dear Morpheus, should scour the dreams in search of the cult's sigil. They have to sleep at some point and if they are anything but dead, they must be somewhere."

"They taught Rodrick Burgess how to imprison you," his voice wavered with anger. It was a strange thing to be the subject of someone's worry. Even stranger when that subject was incomparably more powerful that the worrier. Perhaps love's voice was a little louder than reason's. "It's dangerous to seek them out."

You looked into Morpheus's blue eyes. Most of the time, they were quite vacant with something odd lingering inside them. Having spent so much time with him, you learned that their odd glint was sadness. But not the kind of melancholy one feels after hearing harsh words, no, it was the sadness of knowledge - a melancholic gaze of someone who saw and heard all there was to know about humanity and that knowledge left them disappointed, underwhelmed. "While they're dreaming, they are in your realm. You are the lord of them, do not forget that."

"What happens now that one of the Palaces is gone?"

For a moment, you looked away. A small shrug raised your shoulders and your gaze returned to Morpheus's face. "Truthfully, I can only speculate. This isn't the first time some Sacra's agent died but all of the Palaces are already deeply woven into the fabric of this cycle that it's virtually impossible to say with certainty whether the balance will remain. We can only hope that the other five Palaces will take over his duties and no more damage will be done. I'll be by the hazel tree."

Walking through the strangest dreams, Morpheus found himself inside a small, bare bedroom. The walls and floor were made out of stone. There was no glass in the windows but it wouldn't make much difference - the hot air stood in place. A wooden bed, a table, a chair and three woven baskets were the only pieces of furniture and although it wasn't much by any means, the room already felt cluttered. Looking around, Morpheus couldn't notice anything remarkable. The room looked so unimpressive, it could literally be in any country in the world. Although, why was someone dreaming of their own, empty bedroom?

Morpheus looked through one of the windows which was more of a hole in the wall, really. Out there, somewhere in the distance above hay roofs, he noticed a flag. There was no wind blowing, therefore he couldn't see all of it but he was fairly sure he could make out something like a spiral and part of an eye. He had found himself in the right place but where exactly he was, Morpheus couldn't tell. On the windowsill, if one could even call it that, was placed a gilded statuette of an animal (a panther, perhaps?) with three cubs. Morpheus reached his hand out towards the strange and enigmatic decoration.

"We meet, at last, Dream of the Endless," a voice called out to him.

Turning around, Morpheus's gaze fell on a man in a silvery robe. Contrary to the room they had found themselves in, the monk's clothing looked expensive, though it did not escape Dream's attention that the long belt tied around his waist was torn at the bottom, leaving brown threads in a dismembered pattern that represented nothing in particular anymore. Bright afternoon sunlight glided off his bald head. "Darius."

"To what do I owe this honour?"

Morpheus knew that Darius must be an exceptional man. Most of the time, Lord of Dreams was but an overlooked passenger in people's nighttime fantasies, never noticed until he wanted to be. Lucid dreaming was, indeed, a complex craft and not many could achieve it even with proper training. Even fewer people could treat it as second consciousness, wandering on Dreaming's soil with the awareness of wakefulness. "What happened to the Palaces of Justice?" Morpheus asked.

"Irony, Dream King," Darius answered. There was a polite smile on his face. His hands were clasped together in front of him as though he was mindful of his etiquette even in the world of dreams. How considerate. "The Palaces of Justice received justice."

Darius's lack of shame or regret, certain recklessness maybe, made Morpheus's skin crawl. Did that man truly not ponder the consequences of such an act? What madness inspired him to ever think that he could make such a decision? "Have you any idea what you've done?"

"Contrary to you, I do." Darius remained relaxed. He was either bluffing or he had an ace up his sleeve and was smart enough to not reveal all of his cards just yet. "Is this not why you sought me out? To learn about Lion and his final moments? With great satisfaction, I assure you, that it wasn't me who delivered his fate. If you knew what he had done, you'd be thrilled, too."

"I know what he had done," Dream answered in a cold done. "Tell me what you know."

"Why would I? You're only going to bring Wisdom to our doorstep. As much as the Brothers of the Final Truth wish for that to happen, the time is not right yet. Preparations are in order."

The next moment happened so fast that it was a mere blink of an unsuspecting eye. From his long sleeve, Darius revealed a dagger with a hilt sculpted into a dragon's head. As if he had no fear or had done something just as mad countless times before, Darius stabbed himself right in his heart - the quickest way to wake up.

Darius sat up in his bed panting. Without thinking about anything else, he threw away the thin cover he was sleeping under and run out of his bedroom barely dressed. He continued his maniacal rush through the cold, stone halls of the temple. Guards, wearing headdresses made from jaguar skulls, tried to stop him and ask what was wrong but Darius never let them - he simply run, his head whipping around as if he was looking for someone. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he left the temple.

"Brother Lorarii!" he yelled out to the familiar man. The monk looked Middle Eastern, with a thick beard covering nearly half of his face. "Brother Lorarii," Darius repeated between pants.

"Darius, dear Lords above and beyond, what is the matter?"

"It's Wisdom." He still couldn't catch his breath. "Dream of the Endless had trespassed my dreams. We need to warn Viper, send her off."

"If you say so, we shall do so at once. But you, dear brother, do not look good. It is still very early, even field workers haven't yet woken up. Go back to sleep, rest, and I'll fetch Viper."

"Yes, brother Lorarii. I will."

Suddenly feeling unimaginably tired, Darius dragged his feet back inside the temple. Instead of Dream and Wisdom, his thoughts were filled with memories of the pleasantly cool and comfortable bed. Yes, he could get some more sleep...

Brother Lorarii watched Darius disappear around the corner of the stone temple. Then, he simply turned around and walked away but instead of walking through a village with houses made of stone, he was suddenly walking through the palace in Dreaming. Brother Lorarii's tanned skin was exchanged for a pasty white complexion and dark, unkempt hair. Morpheus was marching through the marble halls of his manor. The gold figurine weighed in his hand.

Darius was still asleep, never having left his bed.

Morpheus was stalling. He came to tell you about his discovery but something about your calm yet focused demeanour made him want to watch. Throughout most of his life, he thought that the Pillars of Eternity were distant, cold, unwelcoming. None of the Endless was important enough to gain their interest. It was frustrating, truly - the almighty creatures of this universe couldn't care less. But now, having learned just how wrong he was, it was a comforting thought that there existed something bigger than him, that the pains and hopes of this world weren't entirely his burden to carry. Next to you, he happened to feel small, not as important as he always thought of himself. Somewhere in the depth of his pride, he found it endearing. The crows in the tree watched him closely with their burning green eyes and unintelligible markings. "Any news in the universe?"

"Standing here, what can you hear, my love?" you asked back.

"Leaves rustling."

"Imagine that each of those leaves is a separate world in this cycle. You hear them rustling as one, the soft hum of the current universe, but I listen to each of them separately. In fact, I'm listening to an entire forest rustling its leaves. There is no news in the universe, Morpheus, the universe is the news. It is constantly changing, moving, whispering. The universe is alive and so are its components. Have you any news about the Brothers of the Final Truth?"

Only then did you open your eyes to look at him. There was that glint of mischief or fascination in his irises that urged you to reveal to him the most deranged secrets of creation. Aside from your siblings, he was probably the only entity that wouldn't go completely mad the moment they even began to understand.

"I have spoken to one of them by the name of Darius. He was lucid in his dream, trying to escape me and my realm. Wherever Darius is, Viper is there, too. I brought something from his dream that might yet help us."

Although the statuette must have spent some time in Morpheus's hand, it was cold to the touch. It glistened but not as it should in the faint light of the palace - it appeared to have its own source of light. There were no inscriptions on the figurine, not even a year or a monogram of the sculptor.

"A gold jaguar," you said to yourself as if it wasn't already obvious. To be fair, considering the lack of proper details in the sculpted cubs, guessing 'bear' or 'hyena' should be equally expected. "Mother or father? Father jaguar..." your voice drifted away, travelling through times and places in a single thought. Yes, it wasn't the first time you've stumbled upon such an expression. "They're in Paititi, 'Motherland of the jaguar father'."

"That is where Viper is hiding."

"Precisely. But Brothers of the Final Truth are a cunning kind, they will know of our arrival. We must be swift, dear Morpheus."

The crows let out a deafening cacophony of caws when they took flight after you had stood up. One could only wonder what strange worlds they were going to see.

"It's hardly changed," you confessed as you looked at the stone houses, rice fields and llamas. "I remember showing Inkarri this valley. I haven't visited since then... Apparently, Paititi is stuck in time. I am yet to decide whether that is good or bad. For now, I suppose it simply is."

The village was quiet but not silent: a soft hum of a faraway waterfall created a comforting, almost sleepy, ambience. Torches made the moonless night a little brighter and easier to navigate. The air felt a low warmer as no breeze was blowing. Once in a while, a llama or a goat would call out. Streets were empty and there was no light inside the huts. For all you knew, Paititi was asleep.

The scales in your hand were strangely slimy and hard to grasp as if they once belonged to a fish rather than a reptile. With a flick of your wrist, you threw them in the air and in a truly mesmerizing fashion, they burst into giant, green flames. Not even ashes fell to the ground.

"The Brothers know you're here. Leave while you can," a quiet voice hissed.

You didn't even have to snap your fingers or flick your wrist to make Viper sink to her knees. It was child's play, really - to think her submission into existence. Despite genuine attempts, she couldn't stand up or even raise her arms. Viper's head was forced to look at you. She had thin black hair that clumped in greasy strands. Her skin looked painfully dry. Those slit pupils stared at you with nothing short of contempt.

"I am Wisdom," you began in an official tone, "the Pillar of Eternity, the Master of the Arcane Arts." Something about those words made the wind blow harder, the ground beneath your feet trembled nervously. "You owe me respect."

"Look at her," Viper demanded of Morpheus. His vacant eyes remained fixed on her. "Look at her!" She spat out specks of venom as she yelled. Hitting the sand beneath your feet, the substance sizzled, turning into sour-smelling smoke. "When you're finally gone, do you honestly think she'll mourn you? How could someone like her shed a tear over an insect like you? You are nothing beyond a lap dog to her, an accessory."

Unwilling to hear any more of her words, you revealed one of the blades belonging to the Spear of Ages that you had kept hidden in the triangular sleeves of your robes. The golden blade would surely glisten in the silver light of the moon but that night's sky was empty - stars blinked anxiously as they waited for their mother to begin another cycle, grow into the silent talar of whispered secrets once again.

With confidence befitting pure rage, your arm swung through the warm air. Viper closed her eyes and attempted to wince but the magic holding her in place didn't quite allow that. A loud sound of metal clashing and something hard being broken resounded through the otherwise silent night.

The blade belonging to the Spear of Ages was lodged into the stone pavement on which Viper was kneeling. Judging by the distance between the weapon and her body, it had missed her face by less than half of an inch. It was, quite clearly, a throw practised many times before. One could only wonder how many times the blade did not miss its mark...

But Viper did not have much time to enjoy the missed offence. Your hand tightly wrapped around her throat. Truthfully, you had little care for the strength of your grip - it took a little more than strangulation to kill a Palace. Holding her throat, you slightly lifted her entire body to bring Viper's face closer to yours.

"Given what role you must fulfil in this cycle, killing you is unwise," you spoke in a quiet, calm voice. "Another punishment must take place to pay for your treacherous fratricide. Viper, Palace of the Justice, you shall speak no more words. Instead, you will hiss and slither and live in the shadows as serpents do. So mote it be."

Pushing Viper away, you let go of her neck. She fell on the white stones beneath her feet and tried to scramble back up, stand up and face you but she couldn't - physically, she was incapable of doing so. Her legs as if suddenly stripped of bones or muscles became completely useless. Viper had no control over them. Propping her torso up on her arms, she tried to say something but your words were already changing reality: a golden thread swiftly piercing Viper's lips, wiring them shut until the end of this cycle. In muffled whimpers, she undoubtedly attempted to scream something at you - certainly something quite sultry.

"Between forgiveness and vengeance, one should choose to be just," you announced in an official tone. "And what is just may not always be right," you added a little quieter. It was good that those decisions belonged to Palaces of Justice and not yourself.

Dream's gaze lingered on the pathetic sight that was Viper. He knew not to believe her words but some part of him, strange particles in his bones that recognized your superiority to all of creation, pondered the Palace's judgement. What if his purpose truly was to pass the time? He felt your hand gently grabbing his before Paititi turned into Dreaming and the air around him was filled with shimmering, green powder.

Part of him expected you to let go of his hand and do whatever it is a creature of your sort does in their free time - in his experience, it was mostly sitting underneath a hazel tree or walking through the farthest places in Dreaming, taking in the specific genius loci of the Dream World. But your touch lingered. "Something is troubling you, my dear," you said in a mild tone.

Sometimes he wondered whether you could read minds but it was fairly obvious that you were just excellent at reading him. You pulled him in the direction of the balcony next to your bedroom and he let you.

"There will come a day when my existence comes to an end," he began. Your hand gripped his a little tighter but it wasn't uncomfortable - it was reassuring, a silent promise that he was being heard and his fears were treated with utmost seriousness. "Strange times when even Death will die. What shall become of you then?"

"Whatever must," you answered shortly. There was no point in sweet words and lies. Both of you were a little too old and smart for that. "I will take on the face of the next cycle's dominant species, answer to the name they will give me. And one day there will come another cycle in which another Dream of the Endless shall live. I think I ought to seek him out when the time comes. Perhaps his sky will be littered with gargantuan jellyfish."

A cawing resounded in the air. Flying straight towards the two of you was a crow - undoubtedly one of the residents of the hazel tree judging by its flaming emerald eyes and marking along its body. It landed on the ledge of the balcony, right between Morpheus and you. The bird's talons tapped against the stone. The crow cocked its head, the flaming eye stared into yours in a manner too intelligent and conscious to truly belong to an animal. A hoarse caw, a sound more akin to a screech than a bird's call, resounded in the crow's chest.

"Time would like us to visit him out on the Seas of Oblivion," you explained to Morpheus. Before he could think it odd that you clearly understand a crow's caw, he noticed the shade of green burning inside the bird's skull was nearly identical to the colour of your dress with embroidered ibises; he and Jessamy were in no way different than you and that crow. "Hermes, tell Time that we'll be honoured to meet with him."

The crow cawed again before taking flight and disappearing into the horizon.

I fear the day is growing shorter yet again, dear student, and the darkness in the absence of the sun is filled with terrors even I am yet to learn about. As much as it pains me to say so, I do not know when we'll see each other again. Telling you this story, I have come to realize that an entire century had gone by since the last time I saw my mother. With the break of dawn, I shall be off to Shangri-La. Should you grow weary of my absence, borrow one of my books. Who knows, maybe between their pages you'd find a story of your own?

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creativepawsworld · 2 years ago

Text

Silence -Chapter 46

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x OC

Summary = The Aftermath of finding the Adler’s in blood.

Warnings = Seriously 18+ , Language, Grammar, Alcohol, mentions of selling a person. Mentions of possible Death, Violent descriptions, Sexual Assault, Suicide mentioned. Child Abuse.

Word Count = 2438

Note = This chapter in my opinion is pretty heavy, with the lightest touch of fluff. I mean the lightest. It is dark and honestly it was tough to write as it was so mentally heavy? Does that make sense? Please everyone take care and remember this is only a fic, if you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings, i can recap in the next chapter just not as heavy...LOVE YOU ALL

Sitting at the Shelby family kitchen table I just stared at the wall in front of me. My vision was only slightly blurred by the hot steam coming from the tea cup Polly had placed before me. She was sitting next to me, unsure of what to say. Unusual for the matriarch.

Tommy had taken me back to his former home, it had happened all so fast. From him peering through the window to arriving at the black doors I had once feared. He had quickly informed Polly of what had happened before taking his brothers back to the crime scene.

I felt like something was wrong with me. No matter how much inner turmoil I was experiencing, I couldn't shed a tear, not one single tear. I just stared ahead of me, like it wasn't happening.

My mind went back to my childhood, growing up was far from easy but compared to most it was not hard. It wasn't like Tommy's upbringing, my mother didn't kill herself and my father wasn't a raging alcoholic who beat his children for fun.

Yes, my parents weren't perfect. My father had a temper, his face would turn purple when he yelled, and spit would fly from his mouth soaking our faces when he did, but he never hit us.

My mother, well my mother was more mentally and emotionally manipulative. I hadn't seen it until I spent time with the Shelby family. I spent twenty-five years of my life thinking everything that came out of her mouth was God's law.

"Has she moved?" I heard Tommy's voice interrupt the Silence Polly and I had been sitting in.

"No." Polly sighed, her hand reaching out. She took my hand into hers, giving it a tight squeeze of support.

"Alright, Stace," Tommy called. I saw him move closer towards me, squatting down low next to me. The smell of his cologne, smoke and whiskey filled my nose. "Stace…" He tried again, placing a hand on my upper thigh before softly caressing my bump.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked down just as Tommy jumped back slightly – he was just as startled as me. A small laugh fell from my lips as a smile grew on Tommy's face. Reaching out I pulled his hand back, placing it back on my stomach. Our blessing.

I could feel Polly's confused glare looking between us but all that matter at that moment was the fluttering sensations I felt inside my stomach, along with the odd thump which Tommy could feel.

Thinking back over my timeline, and doing the math inside my head I was just over halfway. It would have been 21 weeks and I was in no way prepared.

Standing to my feet, I quickly walked through the large green doors, entered the betting shop and disappeared into Tommy's office. Taking a pen and piece of paper into my hands, I began to write down everything I needed to do, get and buy for my baby. They were all that mattered now.

"Stace," Tommy sighed, quietly closing the door to his office behind himself. The rustling of clothing told me that he was shrugging the long black coat from his shoulders. "I need you to listen to me."

"I have to write this list. The baby is coming Tommy, they are all that matters now." I shook my head, not bothering to look up at him as the pen continued to scribble across the white sheet of paper.

"Not for a few weeks," Tommy replied, walking over to the desk, and taking the pen from my hand. I opened my mouth to protest when a quick look immediately shot me down. "Listen to me." He started again, tongue darting out to moisten them.

"Are they dead?" I whispered wanting a quick answer, hoping that it would be quick and painless instead of drawn out and torturous.

"No. They are in a bad way but they are not dead."

I felt my breath hitch in my throat, and wetness on my cheeks as I leaned back on Tommy's chair. My hand came up to cover my mouth, my mind replaying his words over and over. They were alive.

"They were taken to Birmingham General. I can take you, the car is outside but I must warn you, they may not make it. Your father in particular lost a lot of blood." Tommy spoke softly. So softly it was almost foreign coming from his mouth.

"What happened to them?" I asked breathily, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I could instantly see Tommy's reluctance in telling me. His tongue ran along the front of his top teeth as he thought about what to say.

"I don't…"

"Tell me," I demanded, a nauseous feeling taking over. I wasn't sure if it was from the baby moving or the events of today catching up with me. "Please, don't…stop, just stop hiding things from me."

Tommy's eyes fell to the floor as he considered my words. I chose to remain silent as I got out of his chair to stand in front of him. I could feel the tension radiating from him, as I slipped my hands into his, lacing our fingers together.

"Your father…your father suffered multiple stab wounds to his upper chest and torso. Whoever attacked him attempted to remove his tongue but must have been disturbed before they could finish." Tommy spoke. His tone was flat and cold, almost as if he was trying to distance himself from the words he had to speak.

"And my mother?" I asked trying to keep my face unaffected even though my head and insides were spinning. Tommy's tongue ran along his bottom lip before resting between his teeth.

"Stace,"

"Tommy you agreed. If I asked you wouldn't hide anything."

"If they ever, ever try and…I swear to God I would watch them all burn Stace. I will watch them…"

"It's okay Tom, I'm okay." I squeezed his hands tightly, stopping him mid-sentence knowing what he was about to say. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I finished his sentence in my head. As bad of a person I believed my mother to be no one, no one deserved that.

*****

Sitting in the hospital waiting room, Tommy sat by my side, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He was never comfortable inside a hospital. I couldn't blame him, I felt the same. It had this aura of death hanging around it.

The two men that guarded our front door were now positioned outside the hospital. Tommy put them there to protect my parents. I knew I wasn't going to be allowed out of his sight after Arthur returned from my parent's house, just before we left for the hospital with a white box addressed to me.

Opening the parcel inside the car under the supervision of Tommy and Arthur I found a loaf of beard. Pandoro bread.

A cold shiver ran through my body at the sight of the star-shaped loaf. I had only tried it once before with Lizzie but it was enough. Tommy was right. I had exposed myself openly to the Changretta's and this was their message.

Arthur sat in the corner of the hospital his leg shaking, bouncing up and down. His thumb was in his mouth nibbling on the skin as we waited for any kind of update on my parents' condition.

No one knew what to say, the silence was deafening.

I just stared at the doors, hands caressing my small but ever-growing bump, waiting for the doctor to come through the door. My mind wandered back to the last conservation I had with my mother, it was horrific.

I had just found out I was pregnant, it was happy news. Tarnished by the revelation that I was sold to pay a debt. I felt the tears in my waterlines as I thought about hearing that news for the first time. It floored me. Out of all the excuses, all the reasons my parents could have. That wasn't what I expected.

My father showed remorse. He regretted his decision I could see it in his eyes each time I spoke to him. Talking to him yesterday my heart broke, he hadn't been looking after himself again. There were huge bags under his eyes, he was thinner and paler.

I found myself forgiving but I wasn't sure if it was for him or myself.

I knew that keeping all that pent up wasn't good for me or the baby. But I was having difficulty letting it go. Every time the memory came to my mind, I cried.

"Miss Adler?" A voice called, turning in my seat towards a different set of doors, I noticed a nurse standing with a soft smile.

"Yeah?" I stood up, wringing my fingers between each other as I cautiously walked toward her. Her eyes dropped towards my bump, her smile faltering as I approached.

"The doctor would like to see you." She forced out a reassuring smile, eyes glancing behind me.

I felt Tommy step up behind me, hand placed on my lower back rubbing soft circles, to show his support. The nurse, instantly recognising him looked away, opening the set of double doors and allowing me to walk through.

Following her down a long corridor there were rooms on either side of Tommy and me, each one containing sick or injured patients. A dark feeling of dread washed over me as we approached the end of the corridor.

Without another word, the nurse knocked gently on the door but didn't open it. Instead, she turned with another smile, standing off to the side. Glancing up at Tommy, I could tell he was on edge, watching every move the nurse made, hand twitching at his side when the door opened revealing a much older gentleman.

"Are you Miss Adler?" The older gentleman asked. I felt Tommy relax next to me at the sight of the man in front of us. "Mr Shelby, it's been a while. Keeping out of trouble I presume."

Looking between the two men, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion before I recognised the grey-haired gentleman. He was one of the doctors looking after Tommy when he was brought in after our ambush with Sabini.

"Now Miss Adler, your parents…" The doctor began again not waiting for a response, I doubt he would have gotten one from Tommy. "Your father remains unconscious due to the injuries sustained in the attack but we believe him to make a full recovery."

"And my mother?" I asked, stopping my breath as I waited for the answer.

"She is recovering. Unfortunately, we have had to sedate her, the effects of the attack have left her highly volatile." The doctor sighed, eyes glancing towards Tommy.

"Oh okay, thank you." I nodded, unsure of how else to respond.

"You may see them if you please, Mr Shelby, can accompany you." He continued, handing over the clipboard I hadn't realised he was holding to the nurse, his eyes glancing at my stomach. "But be aware Miss Adler, they look worse than they are."

Nodding I reached my hand out for Tommy to take, instantly I felt the warmness of his hand in mine. Sending a small smile towards the doctor, the nurse opened the door he had just left to reveal the two beds inside the one room.

I stopped halfway inside, my eyes falling on the two beds where my parents lay. The sun shining through the tall window cast over them hiding the full extent of their injuries.

"If you need anything, I will be just outside." The nurse smiled, placing the clipboard in the slot provided at the end of the bed before disappearing back out the door.

Refusing to move, I bit the piece of skin at the corner of my lip – trying to decide whether or not I wanted to be there. Tears welled in my eyes, I felt myself shake and I couldn't pinpoint why.

I was completely overwhelmed. I had flashes of Tommy laying in the hospital bed and almost hated myself for wanting to be there for him but wanting to run away from my parents, especially when they needed me the most.

"Would you like to go home, Stace?" Tommy offered picking up on my discomfort. Glancing towards my parents in their beds before returning his gaze to me.

"In a minute" I whispered, willing myself forward, the soft heels of my shoes clicked along the tiled floor.

Reaching my father first, he was almost unrecognisable. His hair was pushed back out of his face, revealing a deep cut to his right temple. His eyes which I thought were black before had shades of purple, yellow and blue. His mouth had many small cuts from whatever weapon they had used to try and take his tongue.

His hands which lay just outside the blanket had cuts along the knuckles. He must have tried to fight back and defend himself. But he was so frail, I was sure he wouldn't stand a chance against a child, never mind a grown adult.

My heart began to break at the sight of him. I hiccupped back a cry as I brushed a few strands of his hair from his head before turning to my mother.

The drugs did nothing for her, she was bones with little skin. Her hollow cheeks had a deep cut, similar to Tommy's and some nasty bruising surrounded it. Closing my eyes I inhaled through my nose, part of me feeling guilty, believing that this was my fault.

Tommy almost sensing what was going through my head was quick to remind me that it was them that got involved with the Italians, long before I got involved with him. This was their own doing.

Silently agreeing with his words, I opened my eyes looking down at my mother's skeleton-like arms, dark bruises were beginning to form where they must have held her down. What kind of monsters attacks two elderly people?

"Tommy?" I whispered, gently rubbing the skin of my mother's wrist, turning to look at him over my shoulder. "What do we do now? What if they come for me?" I asked looking at the man who seemed to always have an answer.

I watched as Tommy inhaled deeply through his nose, his hand twitching in his pocket. This was the longest I had seen him go without a smoke today alone. His icy blue eyes stared into my own, and an almost sinister smile graced his face.

"Let em try."

*****

Extra note = Apologises to those who believed her parents to be dead, I did say they were potentially dead! I hope you all enjoyed reading this anyway. I really do appreciate every last one of you.

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76 @midnightmagpiemama @pierre-gasssllyy @duckybird101

#thomas shelby #thomasshelby #tommyshelby #tommy shelby #tommyshelby x oc #tommyshelby fanfic #thomasshelbyxoc #thomasshelby x oc #peakyblinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders

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taterstories · 8 months ago

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Princess Mercury part 3 by Tater

When I woke up, I was back in my bed and Scud was walking in through the servant's door. He said, "Oh look who is finally awake." I sit on the edge of the bed and ask, "When did I come out of the dungeon back to my room? How long have I been sleeping?" Scud buzzing around the room preparing breakfast. He said, "You have been sleeping for a whole day and a knight we brought you back yesterday morning." He placed breakfast in front, and I just realized I was starving. Scud readied my clothes for the day and prepared a bath for me. As soon as I was done eating, I went and got in the bath the water was warm and soothing on my sore body. Scud washed me and got me clean. Then I got out and he dried me off. He helped me get dressed, and not in casual clothing but my suit. I asked Scud, "Why am I getting all dressed up?" Scud continued to dress me. He replied, "I home you're ready to propose to the Princess now or I am not sure what the Queen will do to you, she has been known to sentence men that are not willing to obey her to life as a servant somewhere in the castle or to the main dungeon not her personal one or even death." As he was dressing me, I was thinking carefully about my supposed options. When I was done being dressed Scud again handed me the box with the ring in it. I think I know what to do.

Scud escorted me to the throne room. I entered the court as Scud introduced me. I walked up the red carpet to the royal family and kneeled down. I said, "I am ready your highness." Then Princess Mercury got off her throne and came to me. I faced her and got on one knee and said, "Princess Mercury, you have captivated me with your beauty and am willing to be by your side and serve you for the rest of my life, may I have your hand in marriage? She looked down at me then looked at her parents and smiled then said, "Yes Sir Vick Yes I do love you I would love to have you by my side." I put the ring on her finger then stood up and we hugged and kissed. Then the King and Queen Smiled and the King said, "Let it be known my daughter with me married to Sir Vick in one week Domo pass out invitations to all the leaders of the villages in all the land and to Sir Vicks Parents." the Major Domo responded, "Yes sir" then left the court to do his job. Then the Princess went with her mother the Queen to start planning and the King got off his throne and said to me, "Lets Walk and talk my future son in-law."

The King and I went out to the courtyard and walked around. Talking about the wedding and where we will live and about Mercury and I would be the rulers of the land and all its subjects. I ask the King, "So about all this dungeon and crazy sexual control and games do that continue after the wedding?" He looked around and said to me quietly, "We don't talk about it even though everyone in the castle knows that thing go on, but I will get worse before it gets better, but you will learn to love it and it you don't there will be a severe punishment." We went into the castle, and he showed me around the castle, so I knew were everything was and told me I had the run of the place but was not allowed to leave without an escort. After the tour from the King himself we met up with the Queen and the princess as they were still planning the wedding. We had a great lunch and I sat with Mercury, and we talked about the wedding and guests and what kind of things we wanted to have there. What kind of entertainment, food and dancing. We also rode our horses out not to far from the castle to a much smaller castle called Champagne Manor. That was to be updated and decorated for us and that would be where we would live after we were married. We returned to the castle and Mercury bid me good night at my chambers. I went inside and got ready for bed. Thinking about what was to happen over the next week.

That night and every night that week for seven days the Queen and Scud or the King would visit me in my chamber and make me do thinks like suck cock or eat out the queen or fuck my ass. It was very intense, and my balls were so sore, but they leak every time I take it in the ass. It is some relief but not as good as it would feel it, I got to cum the normal way fucking the Princess or even the Queen, but they are not letting that happen I guess till after the wedding. Scud and I had become pretty good friends over the week. I don't get to see the Princess much but for a few minutes each day. The day before the wedding the King and I and about twenty men went out into the wilderness not far from the castle to go hunting. This is the biggest hunting expedition I have ever been on. We are hunting deer and turkeys and wild boar. We were all done and ready to rest as we went back to the castle late in the evening with ten big deer and five wild boar and eight turkeys. When we arrived back at the castle, we let the servants do all the work preparing all the kill for the royal wedding tomorrow.

Today was the day of the wedding I woke from a not so busy evening. The Queen took it easy on me after hunting and today being a really busy day. I had breakfast and got dressed in my more casual clothes till it was wedding time this afternoon. I went out walking around the castle waiting for some important guests to arrive. Like my family and some of my friend's from the village. The Castle was buzzing with workers decorating and preparing everything. It was about noon and a carriage with my family and my friends were on horseback with a couple of other families in wagons pulled into the gates. I went into the courtyard to meet them. It was really great to see my parents and friends again. The servants took all their belongings to the cottages in part of the courtyard where they would stay for a few days. We went into the castle and went to a sitting room to catch up and talk to each other and they all got to meet the King and Queen for a minute or two as they were really busy and had a lot to do be for the wedding time later. It was really nice to see my family again. It made me feel warm inside. We had a couple of hours to sit together till one of the wedding planners pulled me and Scud away from my family to get ready. We went back to my chambers and a servant showed my family and friends where they would be staying. When we arrived back at my chambers the preparations were immediately. They gave me a bath and started to help me get into a black suite with long tails almost to the floor. Then ones I was close to being ready the wedding planner showed me in a box which had my big silver ring covered in diamonds and the princesses ring gold with a big diamond surrounded by smaller ones with rubies amber and jade all incorporated. Then there was a light gold chain with rubies on it with a key on it. The planner said to me, "I am giving these to the ring bearer, and he will give these to you when it is the appropriate time, and you will put the chain around her neck first then the ring." Then we all walked out to go to the throne room where the wedding was to be held.

This was it; it was time I walked down the red carpet to the throne where a female priest is standing, I had Scud and a few of my friends from home were with me. Then Four beautiful girls walked down to the throne and then Jenavive. She was in a beautiful dress she walked down to the throne. Next the music changed horns blasted and the doors opened. There she was beautiful Mercury in a beautiful white dress with a long train dragging behind her. She was walking with her father the King to give her away. They walked slowly down to the throne to meet me. He gave her away then the King went to sit on his throne with the Queen. The priest said her blessings and told how the woman is the leader in this house, and she controls all. Then she motioned for the rings. The Ring bearer brought them to me. I placed the chain around Mercury's beautiful neck and clasped it on and the key rest right between her beautiful perky tits. Then I took her ring and placed it on her left ring finger. Then she did the same with my ring. We said our vows then we kissed very passionately and loving. Then we turned and walked to the back of the throne room as everyone in the congregation cheered. Then we had dinner and dancing it was a giant party for all. There was wine and mead and beer with some whisky flowing. Everyone was having a great time we partied late into the night. When the party was settling down Mercury turned and whispered in my ear, "It is time my husband to go and consummate our marriage." I liked the idea of that very much we said our goodnights to our family and friends, and we went out to a waiting carriage surrounded with guards pulled by eight white horses. To go to our new home in the Champagne Manor.

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elena-gilbertrp · 1 year ago

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The smooth voice sends a sharp shiver down her spine. She knows it without really knowing it as she turns to face him. Klaus looks…..human. She keeps forgetting it - the way monsters live inside men and men live inside monsters. Despite that fleeting thought though, she knows he's more monster than man. That his blue eyes hide behind them the monstrosity of a predator.

She wonders if he's just like other vampires, wonders at the shark like teeth that will sink into her flesh soon one day. It's gruesome, she thinks, to picture her own death, but she can't stop it, especially not when he stands in front of her.

Ready to offer it to her.

"I thought so," she says, not voicing that she, herself, likes the full moon. Likes the way she can stare into it unflinchingly. The moon that makes the water dance to its tune.

(Water that had filled her lungs until she had choked on it).

When he talks of the moon, she purses her lips together. "Give me death," she completes without thinking. It is what he wanted to say after all, and even though the thought is unsettling, she refuses to show him she's unsettled.

His talk about his mother, however, throws her off for a moment. "Was it your mother, who cast the sun and the moon curse?" She can't keep the curiosity out of her voice, tilts her head to the side. She wonders at that, wonders if his mother hated him too. The idea of it gives her a sick satisfaction; she wants him to suffer for what he's going to do to her, to her family, to Jeremy.

(Jeremy who knows too much death for someone so young).

"I have thought about it," she wonders what answer he wants to hear, "I'm not going to run." She exhales softly, turns to face him fully. In the light of the moon, he looks like the monster under her bed. Like the big bad wolf just moments before he devours little red. "I know what you did to Katherine, and I don't want that to happen to my family. To the people I love. I've thought about what it means to be here, to send you that message. I'm prepared for it. To," suddenly, the air seems too thin and her heart skips several beats. Every instinct in her body screams at her to run, but another voice whispers in the back of her head; telling her this is the right thing to do. "To die in your sacrifice."

She inhales quietly, tries to draw a breath that seems too difficult all of a sudden; she's acutely aware that he's her death. And yet, it is the thought of her death that makes her shoulders relax.

(She thinks of her parents and their car careening into the water, of Jeremy in the throes of his grief, Jenna who she lies to everyday. Of Stefan and Damon and Bonnie - everything she has lost. She knows, in her bones, that just like Klaus is her death, she'll be theirs.

This - she thinks as she looks at his smirking lips, so red they might as well be bloodstained - is the right choice.)

"I promise."

Closed starter for @imbalanceofpower

She paces the length of the room, her stomach in knots and her hands clammy. It feels wrong, but it also feels right. She had tricked Rose into coming here, probably not her finest moment, but she has a plan and she's going to see it through till the end. The sky outside has changed hues numerous times, as she's noticed through the giant floor to ceiling windows, from yellow to deep orange and now a pitch black.

Her eyes are drawn towards the sickle moon, strained upon it, as if attracted to it and its significance over her life. Now that her message to Klaus is sent, she knows her days are numbered by the changing of that moon.

It doesn't matter though; she has no intentions of running. Katherine had, and the first time she had heard of Klaus and the sun and the moon curse, her own desire to run had been sharp. A survival instinct she couldn't ignore. But now she can't, burdened by the knowledge that her running will lead to the death of everyone she loves. She can't see more death.

She still remembers her parents' funerals, the stench of death and the coldness of their skin. The bottomless pit of darkness that's replaced her heart. The fear when she thought Jeremy would remain dead after Damon had killed him.

She'd rather die than feel that again, and so she will. Her message to Klaus had been simple, but difficult. The words had fallen from her lips but weighed upon her heart. The doppelgänger is alive and ready to surrender.

She stands by it, because Klaus is her nightmare these days. Klaus and death. Jenna's and Jeremy's and Bonnie's. Her own.

But what does it really mean, to surrender to a monster? To embrace the monster under her bed and accept the death he wants to give her instead of fighting it? She's going to find out soon, hopefully, whether she wants to or not.

It's her only card to play, her only leverage and she intends to use it as much as she can.

#imbalanceofpower #sacrifice verse #no elena don’t make promises like that to Klaus 😭

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ravenadottir · 3 years ago

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I’m not sure if this has been asked before, but what would the S2 LIs be like meeting MCs parents? And along similar lines, what would the LIs own parents be like? This one might need splitting into separate questions, not sure x

li's behavior when meeting mc's parents?

i'm definitely splitting into two lol

bobby. nervous, blabbering, bringing a lot of dessert in hopes to make them like him, even though they already do. trying so hard to not tell a lot of jokes because he thinks they perceive him as a clown. once he relaxes all that charisma shows up.

carl. absolutely bricking, avoiding the conversation about meeting them because he doesn't think he leaves a good first impression. certain they're gonna hate him. once they're introduced he captures the attention because of how soft he looks when he talks about mc.

elisa. powerful, confident, slightly cocky, but mostly charming and talkative. "mom's love me, dad's appreciate how protective i am trust me, babe, this is a piece of cake."

gary. already getting his barbecue utensils and a cooler for a barbecue. that's how he thinks he makes a good impression on dad's. as mom's go, he delivers the lame "but you look like her sister" line, which works because let's face it, the guy is charismatic as fuck.

hannah. just like bobby, but instead of baked goods it's books' quotes about love, sometimes being about suffering and death, like romeo and juliet.

henrik. initially nervous because they watched him bring blake back but overall chill after addressing it, confident that they will like him because mc does. doesn't try hard but goes to the kitchen offering help to whoever is cooking, places the seats on the table, talks about fun anecdotes from trips, he thrives.

ibrahim. nervous, bricking, quaking, afraid of what they're gonna say about his conduct during the show. once they talk about it, and he tells them his thought process i don't think he calms down. the relationship will take some time to come together because of how nervous he gets when thinking about them and their opinions.

kassam. feeling nervous, quietly making an ok impression. it's really hard for him to find something to bond over, especially with older people. unless they have a good collection of music somewhere, it's hard for him to find things to talk about.

lottie. she's confident until they get to the door, then she thinks back to the things she did in the villa and says "that's all gonna back to bite me in the ass, innit?". needs lots of reassurance because thinks whatever negative comments are most likely directed to her. paranoid about their opinions.

lucas. nervous and paranoid they'll hate them because of the blake thing. overall he charms mothers and dads quite easily, but that's "when there's no clouds over my head". he does, however, address it quickly, by saying mistakes were made and he was glad he made them, because the relationship is stronger than never.

marisol. confident as fuck! she walks in like she belongs, not afraid of saying anything because that's the exact reason mc likes her, and that's what she cares about. offers help with the food, places the seating quite nicely, even brings dessert and wine. marisol is really good at meeting parents.

noah. NERVOUS. after everything that went down there's a chip on his shoulder that he can't just get rid of. it's gonna take a lot of convincing to take him there, because he's certain they hate him for everything that happened. and if that happens he has a speech prepared, about how afraid he was to get involved and hurt, and how much he has grown after dating mc.

priya. partially bricking because this might be the first time (or the first in a very long time) but also partially confident she can use a very large glass of wine to bond with the mom. telling crazy real estate stories and overall sharing what a discovery it has been to being in love with a girl, i think she charms her way into the hearts of mc's parents.

#litg #litg bobby #litg carl #litg elisa #litg gary #litg hannah #litg henrik #litg ibrahim #litg kassam #litg lottie #litg lucas #litg marisol #litg noah #litg priya #love island the game #litg s2 #litg season 2 #group asks #queue

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wzrd-wheezes · 1 year ago

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The Engagement Arrangement: Part 1 - James Potter x Reader. Sirius Black x Reader.

AN - I really loved this request so this has been turned into a multipart fic that I'll try and update as regularly as I can. Please give it a reblog and let me know if you want me to do a part 2. Thank you for sending in this lovely request!

1.9k words.

“Mr and Mrs L/N.” he nodded, “Nice to see you both again.”

“Ah, James.” Y/N’s father exclaimed, “It’s been a while! You must have grown a good few feet taller since we last saw you.”

“My career as a dwarf never really took off so I decided to just let it go.” James joked, earning himself a disapproving look from both of his parents.

“James,” Y/N’s mother swiftly interjected, “You haven’t met our daughter, Y/N. She’s just finished school as well. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.”

“Nice to meet you,” James grinned, stepping into the room and shaking Y/N’s hand. Y/N just smiled back at him, unsure of what to say. Her mother harshly nudged her leg, urging her to reply.

“Yeah. You as well.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to die of boredom, but I genuinely think I was close.” He said dramatically.

“We were only sat in there for half an hour.” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yet it felt like an eternity.”

James pushed open the front door and they were greeted by the crisp autumn air. Their breaths clouded in the chill, damp air and they both wrapped their coats a little tighter around themselves.

“What d’you reckon they’re talking about?” Y/N asked, “What’s so important that we can’t be there to hear them discuss it?” James shrugged, staring up at the cloudless sky.

“They’re probably just sat moaning about us.” Y/N laughed, “That’s what adults do when they get together, isn’t it? Moan about their children?”

“Nah, not my mum and dad. They genuinely think the sun shines out of my arse.” James chuckled.

“Yeah, that was a bit of an exaggeration on mum and dad’s behalf. They made it sound like I was some feral child. In reality, I was just a normal kid who liked to have fun.”

Y/N felt a bit guilty for poking fun at him about the boarding school ordeal. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, despite how flippantly he brushed it off.

“They didn’t have to be so dramatic,” James continued, “But it’s all in the past now. I’m back home and everything’s fine/” He shrugged, the smile returning to his face. Y/N wasn’t quite so sure how accurate that statement one.

“We’ve been discussing the future,” Y/N’s father began, “And now you have both finished school we believe it’s time to start making preparations for the future.”

Y/N and James both leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued by what their parents had to say. James let out a nervous chuckle, not sure what Y/N’s father meant by that.

“Preparations for the future?” he repeated, turning to look at his own father, “What do you mean? Like, getting involved in the family business or something?”

“Not particularly.” James’s father said.

Both Y/N and James sat there in stunned silence, their minds racing to try and figure out exactly what their parents were talking about.

“There is much more than that to our proposal,” James’s father said solemnly, “It’s not just about romance. In this particular case, settling down is more about stability.”

James and Y/N just stared at each other, feeling the full weight of their parents’ decision bearing down on their shoulders.

“But what about what we want?” James snapped, gesturing to the two of them.

“At the end of the day, this isn’t about what you want.” Mr Potter shook his head, “This is about your families and their futures, not just your own selfish desires.”

The statement hit both of them hard, and for a moment, the two teenagers were completely stunned. Their own family was more important than their own happiness, their own dreams. The harsh reality of their situation slowly began to sink in, and the weight of the responsibility felt nearly too heavy for them to bear.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter fanfic #marauders fanfic #sirius black fanfic

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cherienymphe · 4 years ago

Text

Bloodied Crowns (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, STEPCEST, murder, violence, abusive realtionships, Tony x reader, prince!Peter, king!Tony, queen!Reader

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ based off of this ask

summary: When your husband, King Anthony, is killed in a coup staged by his son from his previous marriage, Peter, you are forced to marry the young man who no longer feels the need to hide his feelings.

Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, the stern monarch losing his wife only a few months prior. The engagement and the wedding happened so quickly, and before you knew it, you were married to King Anthony Stark. Truth be told, you’d feared that you’d never marry at all, and that you’d bring shame to your name, but a stroke of luck, or perhaps misfortune, had put you directly into the king’s path.

Your family had attended the queen’s funeral to pay your respects. It had been drilled into you to catch the eye of an available suitor, as it had been many times before, and while you were disgusted that you could not even properly pay your respects to the royal family, you understood your parents’ desperation. You were twenty-eight with no prospects on the horizon. They had no other children, no sons, your mother unable to conceive after yourself, and so the weight of carrying on the family name was solely on your shoulders.

Your family was not poor by any means, but you were far from wealthy. That being said, your mother spent an outrageous amount to get you the most captivating black dress money could buy. It was not something that would draw too much attention, but enough so that you did not look like a grieving widow yourself. When it was your turn to pay your respects, you recalled bowing to the young prince, the brunette barely acknowledging anyone’s presence. It was rumored that he and his mother were close, that he’d taken her death very hard, and the way he seemed to stare right through you confirmed as much.

When you bowed to the king, apologizing for his loss, you could feel his eyes on you. This was nothing you concerned yourself with. After all, you were speaking to him and he you, but when you rose, you were taken aback by the intensity you found in his dark eyes. Where his son seemed to look through you, the king could not seem to take his eyes off of you. No one else seemed to notice, and, brushing it off, by the time you returned home, you had forgotten all about it.

Until a few days later when a royal guard was at your door. You were being invited to dine with the king, the invitation extending to your family as well, and although you were confused, you knew you could not refuse. Even if you wanted to. The dinner was nice, and you were a bit surprised at how easy it was to get along with the king. You never thought him cruel, but you’d heard that he was a rather stern man. After supper, he extended the invitation to staying at the castle so that you would not have to travel back so late in the evening. Your mother answered before you had the chance to, and it was no surprise to you that the answer was yes.

The castle was so different during the night. It seemed less welcoming and more ominous, and you found it hard to sleep that night. Convinced that the corridors would be empty, you quietly slipped from your chambers and made your way down to the kitchens. There were still a few servants lingering about, cleaning or preparing for the next day. You felt guilty for bothering them for something to drink.

“Nonsense, my lady. I would be more than happy to get that for you,” a younger girl by the name of Guinevere told you.

“Oh...please,” you waved her off. “No one is around. Call me Y/N.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as you told her your name, but she said nothing more as she gave you your water. The dark corridors did not scare you, but the eerie silence was a bit off putting, especially in such a grand structure. You had turned the corner to make your way back to your room when you bumped into none other than the prince. You had almost dropped the drink, and you placed your hand on your chest in an attempt to still your heart.

“Your highness. My apologies, I did not see…”

Your words died in your throat as the prince fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. You snapped your mouth shut, swallowing as he simply glared at you, brown eyes looking so much darker. You had not seen him since the queen’s burial, and he did not look much better than he did then. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he had shoved past you, almost making you drop the goblet in your hand, and a low gasp escaped you as your other shoulder harshly met the wall. You turned to watch him go, shock and confusion pouring through you, wondering what you had done to offend him so.

It was only a few weeks later did you get your answer.

“I...I beg your pardon?”

The king reached for your hand, a soft breeze ruffling his dark hair as he brought it to his lips. They were soft as they brushed over your skin, and the corner of them curved upwards into a smile.

“Everything is already being arranged, but...this is my formal proposal. I need a queen, Peter needs a mother, and you are everything I could have hoped for,” he told you.

You stared at him in shock, feeling as if the world had been ripped out from beneath your feet. Your mind whirled as you tried to make sense of this and where this had come from, and suddenly, the puzzle started to piece together. The countless dinner invitations, the gleam in your parents’ eyes, the hushed conversations...the prince’s animosity. You were being courted by the king this whole time...and you’d been none the wiser. His chuckle pulled you from your thoughts.

“When your mother told me that you could be quite oblivious, I thought that it was a simple exaggeration.”

He found humor in your distress, you realized, and you swallowed.

“I do not know what to say,” you slowly breathed, and you watched him tilt his head at you, a frown beginning to form.

“You say yes,” he said with a scoffing laugh as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

You realized that to anyone else, it would be.

“Your majesty...I feel as if we’ve only just met. Surely, you would allow me time to think-.”

“Think about what?”

His hand tightened on yours, and you winced. He leaned in, genuine confusion in his dark eyes as he stared into your own.

“I am a king telling you that you are to be my queen...and you are hesitant?”

The severity of the situation suddenly dawned on you. Anthony was a king. You were a mere lady attempting to refuse his proposal for marriage, and your heart sank to your stomach. You blinked at him, and his face suddenly smoothed over as he sighed.

“Ah. I understand what this is about…”

“You do…?”

He softly smiled at you, reaching up to brush his thumb along your chin.

“You come from an acceptable background. You are beautiful and smart and kind. I assure you, this is genuine. This is not some poor attempt to cope with my grief. In all honesty, my marriage to the queen was over long before she died,” he told you.

You looked away, realizing that you were not getting out of this. Whether you liked it or not, you would be marrying the king, and with reluctance and a shaky voice, you accepted his proposal. He straightened when you did, a look of satisfaction on his features, and he looked as if he wanted to kiss you. You were thankful that he did not.

The wedding took place only a couple of months later, every nearby royal, and even some across the water, in attendance. It was a grand and beautiful affair, no expense spared, and it was days later that you found out it far outshined his first wedding. You remembered feeling sick as you walked down the aisle, the feeling only getting worse as your gaze met that of the prince.

In the time since the official engagement, you had interacted with the prince only a handful of times. Each time more disastrous than the last. You told yourself that he was grieving. His mother’s death was sudden and had hit him hard and here his father was, marrying again so soon. You did not fault him for his cold behavior. He was young, after all. You would expect nothing less, to be honest, but you could not lie and say that it did not hurt.

Unfortunately, even after the marriage, he did not soften towards you. Every attempt to get to know him was met with nothing short of loathing, and you finally accepted that he would come around in his own time. The last thing you wanted Peter to think was that you were trying to replace his mother. You did not know how long this would go on, but you did not expect it to be more than a year.

You were wrong.

“I throw that kid the best birthday celebration a nineteen year old could ask for and this is how he shows his appreciation? By not even having the decency to show up?”

Tony was angry as he sipped from his goblet, glaring down at the attendees dancing below. A wonderful number was being played by a string quartet, several single princesses in attendance, and an hour into the celebration, Peter was still absent. You placed your hand on your husband’s arm with a sigh.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, Tony. He will show,” you tried to assure him.

His shoulders sagged as he slammed his drink down, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. He reached for you, and you flinched, but he paid it no mind as he brushed his finger along your cheek.

“You are far too nice to him...and he hardly deserves it,” he whispered.

“He’s your son,” you reminded him with a frown. “Do not talk about him like that.”

“He’s ungrateful,” he spat.

“He’s grieving,” you argued.

“It’s been a year,” Tony sneered. “How much time does he need?”

You sharply turned away, swallowing a sigh as anger flared within you. Sometimes Tony could be so insensitive, amongst other things, and it baffled you. Peter lost the only mother he ever knew, and Tony was treating it as if it was something minor. After a few more moments, you excused yourself under the guise of needing some air. In truth, you were determined to track down the prince.

It was not a hard task. He tended to frequent the same places when he called himself hiding. You found him deep within the grounds, lounging on a branch high up in the tree. It was getting late, the sun currently setting, and you held up the skirts of your dress as you trudged towards him. You knew that he heard you, and you resisted the urge to sigh as you stood below him. Your heart ached for him as you could not even begin to imagine what he was going through. After all, you still had both of your parents.

“Peter,” you eventually called.

He yet again pretended as if he had not heard you, a hurtful habit of his, and this time you did sigh.

“Peter, please come down. Your father is concerned about your whereabouts, and...and I am concerned about you. I-.”

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking I care about how you feel?”

His tone was cold, venom coating every word, and your heart clenched. He rarely spoke to you, every time he did as cold as today, but this was different. You were unsure of what to say, and before you had the chance to remedy that, he was hopping down. It was a bit cool out, and his coat flared behind him as he strode towards you, face hard and nostrils flared.

“Why have you deluded yourself into thinking that I care about you at all?”

You reared back, staring at him with wide eyes. His words hurt, that you would not deny, and as much as you fought against it, you could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes. You swallowed, briefly glancing down as you took a step back.

“Peter-.”

“My mother was not even in the ground properly before you came sniffing around my father like a bitch in heat,” he sneered.

Your lips parted, wide eyes staring at him in shock at his words. You had never seen him look so hateful, borderline murderous, and you suddenly realized that this was about more than grief.

“P-Peter...that… That is not what happened-.”

“Isn’t it?” he wondered, taking another step towards you. “Do you think me stupid? Blind? You think I have never known of the way so many women prayed on my mother’s downfall?”

“I never-.”

“Do you think that I do not know that you all came to her funeral not as mourners, but as vultures? As desperate snakes trying to slip your way into my father’s bed so that you may take her place?”

“No! That is not what happened-!”

“You are no different from the rest!”

He was practically upon you now, glaring down his nose at you with so much disgust it finally made the tears spill over.

“I always knew that you were a desperate and conniving whore…”

You gasped, more tears falling at his insult. He raised one dark eyebrow at you.

“...but I never took you for a liar too.”

You were frozen as he looked you over one last time before breezing past you. You shook, unable to stop the tears, and you felt like you were going to be sick. You had no idea that Peter’s disdain was in fact not misplaced due to grief, but was instead as genuine as could be because he thought you to be something you were not. This knowledge made your heart hurt, and it turned out that you were not as adept at hiding your feelings as you thought.

“What troubles you so?” Tony wondered later that night, his hand on your shoulder as you sat at your vanity.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked with a small smile.

His gaze met yours in the mirror, and the way his jaw clenched told you that he did not have much patience tonight. His fingers pressed into your skin, and you swallowed. You looked away, eyes blurring a bit as you recalled Peter’s cruel words.

“Peter hates me,” you confessed.

You heard Tony heave a sigh, and you turned to look up at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he rolled his eyes.

“That kid hates everyone and everything,” he replied.

“No, Tony. You do not understand. He believes me to be something I am not. He thinks that I schemed my way into marrying you, that I am trying to replace his mother-.”

“Peter will be just fine. He will grow to get over it in time,” was his enlightening reply, and you stood.

“But it is not true. Tony, does this not bother you? Because it bothers me! He should be like a son to me. He should be looking to me for guidance and care, and he curses the very ground I walk on. It hurts,” you spat, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Tony’s entire demeanor softened, and he pulled you into his arms. He pressed his lips to your cheek, and you winced at the soreness before he took your chin in between his fingers. He tilted his head at you.

“I love that you’ve grown to really care about him. It warms my cold heart…”

You forced a chuckle at that.

“...but Peter has always been a bit difficult when it comes to me and anything in relation to me. His mother is really the only person he ever really connected with. This will pass, I assure you.”

You reluctantly accepted that Tony just did not care about this as much as you did, and likely never would. Against your better judgement, you opted to let it go, and softly exhaled when Tony pressed his lips to your jaw. He trailed kisses down your neck, tightening his arms around you.

“As much as I enjoy your big heart, I would rather not spend the rest of the night discussing my troubled son,” he murmured, lips finally finding yours.

You did not know if you would ever grow used to making love to Tony. The only time he had ever been anything close to gentle was on your wedding night, and you had still cried, waking up sore and bruised. It eventually dawned on you that this was simply how Tony was, but it did not mean that you had to like it.

The years that passed did not improve things as you’d hoped they would. Tony was still the same as ever, and Peter was no different. Your conversations with the prince were rare, but every one was brief and left you with a paralyzing chill. When he was not speaking to you, his animosity was enough to force you to keep your distance. The hurt that his behavior caused never got any easier.

“When you have a child of your own, this will mean nothing to you,” Tony would assure you.

However, it only did the opposite. Even though Peter was not your own, it did not mean that you viewed him any less, and you knew that would not change when you finally did have a child. Whenever that happened. You and Tony had been trying for years, and there was still nothing to show for it. It was a great source of stress for you both, but Tony was taking it much harder than you.

“They say that it took many tries before they were finally able to have Peter, and even afterwards...the queen was never able to conceive again,” Guinevere had whispered to you one night.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “How awful…”

The blonde girl had glanced around the busy kitchen before leaning in.

“The king will never admit it, but many believe that he was the problem, and considering he is experiencing the same thing with you…”

Your heart sank as she trailed off, and despite everything, you found yourself feeling sorry for your husband. Many would argue that you should feel sorry for yourself. After all, it was a popular opinion that the woman’s womb was always at fault, and kings have gotten rid of their wives for less, but you knew that Tony was far too possessive of you to ever do such a thing.

It was a subject you wished you could talk to Peter about. He knew his father far better than you did, and sometimes you wished you could get some insight on how to make this better for him, but Peter was disgusted by your very presence. There came a time when you reluctantly accepted that it might always be this way, but everything changed when Peter was only a few weeks shy of his twenty-third birthday.

Tony, ever the showoff, was having a ball every week for five weeks straight leading up to the night. It was the second gathering when he had dragged you out of the great hall. His hold had been tight, steps hurried, and you forced yourself to swallow down the pain. The corridor was dimly lit and equally as empty, and tears of frustration were kissing your eyes.

“Tony-.”

“I saw you,” he spat.

“Saw me what? Saw me greet one of your friends? Because that is exactly what King Steven is to me and nothing more!”

His dark eyes were hard as he pressed his fingers into your arms, lip curled over his teeth as he sneered at you.

“He desires you. It is plain as day, and he has never been subtle,” he bit out.

“Somehow I am at fault for that? Steven is a bachelor in every sense of the word. That is how he is, and you know it-.”

“Yes, but I thought to myself, surely my loving wife would have the sense not to entertain his antics!”

“I was being polite,” you told him, wincing at his tight grip. “Just because you are only ever nice to people when you want something-.”

You swallowed your words with a sharp shriek, pressing your hand to your hot cheek as the tears finally spilled over. Your eyes were on the floor as Tony shook you, a scathing remark on his tongue, no doubt, when he suddenly stilled, swallowing whatever he was about to say. His sudden change confused you, and you hesitantly looked up only to realize that his gaze was not on you. You turned to find Peter standing just at the entrance of the corridor, his wide eyes on the two of you.

Tony was quick in straightening you up, and you hurriedly looked away as he acknowledged Peter.

“Why are you not enjoying your celebration with your friends?”

It was a while before Peter responded.

“I noticed that you had slipped out, so I came to find you. I had hoped to continue our...conversation from earlier,” the prince answered.

When you turned back around, you avoided Peter’s eye, but you could still feel the weight of his gaze. Tony’s hand was rubbing into your back as he responded.

“Of course. Sweetheart, you will excuse us, won’t you? Peter and I have much to discuss, and I am sure the other wives are missing your presence,” he said, turning to you.

He threw you a tense and threatening smile, and you shakily returned it with a forced one.

“Of course. I shall see you in there when you return. Peter,” you acknowledged as you hurried past him, avoiding his gaze still.

You did not return to the hall though, but instead made your way down to the kitchen. It was filled with servants, and Mary Jane gasped when she saw you. She and Guinevere were always joined at the hip, but the other girl had been ill for the last few days. The redhead dropped what she was doing, shooing another servant off of a stool before grabbing your arm.

“My God,” she breathed.

The other occupants tended to the food and drinks, much too used to seeing you down here twice a week or so. Mary Jane pressed a cold piece of steak to your face, and you hissed.

“Is it that bad?”

“It is swelling already, your majesty,” she said.

You shifted on the seat, holding the cold meat to your face as you shooed her off.

“I hardly notice how hard he hits anymore. It still manages to shock me every time though, and I have no idea as to why,” you whispered.

She was just about to reply when another voice rang throughout the kitchen.

“Everyone out.”

You turned with wide eyes, confusion tearing through you at the sight of Peter just at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone seemed to hesitate for a moment, worrying about the food, no doubt, before eventually heeding his order. Mary Jane, no stranger to your relationship with the prince, threw you a worrying look before being the last one out. Peter seemed to hesitate as well before huffing, quickly approaching you.

You moved to stop him, but he was already pulling the red meat from your cheek before you had the chance. He stared at your skin for a while before putting it back in place. You held it there as he leaned against the counter, a familiar look of anger on his boyish features.

“This is not the first time this has happened,” he murmured.

There was no need to respond. It was a statement, not an answer. The silence was heavy, thick with tension and filled with words unspoken. Outside of that night, this was the longest you had ever been alone with Peter, and the first time you did not feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“You did not want to marry my father...did you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parting to refute such a blasphemous statement, but no words came out. Words failed you. Peter was a smart young man, always had been, and you were sure that he would see through whatever lie you pieced together.

“Of course, it was not like you could refuse if you wanted to. He is a king, and you were a mere lady,” he said more to himself than you.

You sighed, putting the steak down as you stood.

“My father has never been kind to anyone in his life. I do not know why I thought you were an exception…”

“Peter… I do not want this to affect how you view your father, do you understand?”

He simply frowned at you, and you continued.

“He is not without his flaws, this is true,” you slowly said. “...but he is still your father. In his own way, he loves you and only wants what is best.”

Peter stared at you for a while before scoffing, a humorless laugh not far behind. He pressed his hand to the counter as he stared at you with a look of shock.

“My father does not deserve you,” he said, almost as if he could not believe it.

He chuckled again, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“All this time, I thought that the two of you deserved each other. I hated you...and now...now I just feel sorry for you. For both my father...and me…,” he quietly finished.

“Peter-.”

“I have been nothing but cruel to you, and for that I am sorry. I am sorry for the things that I have done...and the things that I have said.”

You blinked, convinced that you would never hear those words. They warmed your heart, and you looked away.

“It’s alright. You believed what you believed, and if I were in your shoes, I might have believed the same. Your feelings were valid, Peter,” you told him.

He blinked at you.

“I never wanted to replace your mother. That is still not what I desire...but I am here. I know that there is only a decade between us, but I have come to love you like a son despite everything.”

Peter’s eyes softened, and you could see the guilt there.

“I never wanted to rush you, even now, but I hope that you will view me the same one day. Tony is no longer your only parent, and I am always here.”

Peter looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he held off.

“I should get back before your father comes looking for me,” you said, heading for the stairs. “Oh...and please refrain from provoking him.”

You looked to Peter.

“I may dislike him at times, but I do not want to send him to an early grave.”

Peter simply hummed, sending you a strained smile before you left him to find your husband.

You remained in the corridor as the angry voices bled through the door. Both Tony and Peter assured you countless times that their strained relationship was none of your concern, but it could not be helped. They had never had the best relationship, but if possible, it had soured even more over the years, and you were unsure of who to blame.

The minute Tony started to get more serious about grooming Peter for the throne, things had gone from tense and strained to borderline violent at times. Not only did the two have such opposing views when it came to how to run the kingdom, but your husband had been pushing the idea of marriage more and more lately. It had only gotten worse when Peter neared his twenty-fifth birthday, the party on that fateful day ending abruptly when Peter had stormed out.

You were pulled from your reverie when the door swung open. Peter was the first one out, and he held up a hand as you moved to approach him.

“Not now, Y/N,” he huffed, quickly striding down the corridor with a frustrated sigh.

Tony emerged not long after, and you moved to kiss him, knowing that it would soothe him for the time being.

“That boy will be the death of me,” he complained.

“You both provoke each other, and I do not know why,” you told him.

“He has duties! He is twenty-five and nowhere near taking them seriously. It seems that he is determined to ruin me,” he spat.

You sighed.

“Would you like for me to talk to him?”

“You seem to be the only one he actually listens to, so by all means,” he gestured down the hall, face cloudy.

You patted his chest before leaving him, wondering if a day would come where you would be a functional family. You and Peter were nowhere near what you used to be, and for that you were eternally grateful, but his relationship with Tony was far worse than it had ever been, and you did not know how to even begin to fix it.

You found Peter sparring with his dueling instructor. The sound of clashing swords was loud, and you rounded the corner, wincing when Peter just narrowly missed a rather dangerous blow. He motioned for the other gentleman to stop once he spotted you.

“Come on his behalf, have you?”

“Peter,” you sighed.

He snapped at the other man.

“Give your queen a sword, will you? Come,” he was talking to you now. “Spar with me.”

You reluctantly accepted the other man’s sword, a grimace on your face as you stepped forward.

“I am a horrible dueling partner,” you complained.

“Nonsense, Y/N. You are far better than what you were a year ago,” Peter said with a chuckle.

Your heart sank a bit at the sound of your name, but it did not distract you from blocking the swing of his sword with your own. Peter smirked at you.

“See?”

“Peter, this is not why I am here,” you told him.

“Of course not,” he calmly said. “My father knows that between the two of you, you are the only one I actually respect. He believes that you have some sway over me...and I am not reluctant to admit that he is right.”

He blocked your blow, quick to do so again when you swung your sword down towards his legs. He eyed you, a bit of pride in his gaze.

“Very good,” he praised.

“I was hoping to talk you into agreeing to some sort of compromise with him. Any compromise, really.”

Peter let out a humorless laugh, spinning before bringing his sword down over his head. Your eyes were wide as you lifted your sword, the sound of them clashing meeting your ears.

“There is no compromising with that man. He is determined to bring this kingdom and all of its subjects to ruin, and he wishes for me to just stand back and watch. He does not hear a word I say,” he spat.

He swiped his sword at you, several times and in several different successions. Unable to keep up, you were not surprised when your sword was knocked from your hands. You did not flinch when the tip of his blade found your throat, confident that Peter would never hurt you. He pressed the tip further, eyes locked on yours, and you swallowed.

“Do you agree with him?”

“Of course not,” you honestly answered.

Peter lightly dragged his blade down your neck and towards the top of your dress, his eyes following its movement before he quickly snatched it away. He tilted his head at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to continue.

“You know I do not agree with how your father runs this kingdom, but I have no say. I never did. Believe it or not, Peter, you have much more influence than I do.”

He turned away with a disbelieving laugh.

“Somehow, I doubt that…”

“Look, I am going to say something that I know you are not going to like,” you suddenly said.

Peter did not respond, so you continued.

“I think that you should consider marriage.”

You saw him straighten at that, back tense, and you rushed to say something else.

“If Tony feels that you are taking your future seriously, then he will be more inclined to take you seriously.”

He turned to you with a withering look, and you rolled your eyes.

“Do not look at me that way. I am not saying that you have to marry some poor girl right away, but at least make an effort to look around, and show Tony that you are attempting to meet him halfway,” you advised.

Peter gave you a hard stare for the longest time before eventually rolling his eyes and looking away.

“Very well. You always do get your way, don’t you, Y/N?”

Your mouth parted for a moment before you snapped it shut, looking down. This did not go unnoticed by Peter, and he neared you.

“What is it, now?”

Your eyes met his, and you tried to hide your hurt, but it must have been clear as day. Peter’s entire demeanor softened, and he stuck his sword in the dirt, reaching for you.

“What is it?”

You exhaled.

“That...is another thing I had hoped to discuss with you.”

He frowned in confusion.

“You still refer to me by my name…” you watched as his face fell. “And I do not wish to rush you, I never have, but when you say my name...it makes me feel as if I am doing something wrong here.”

“You are not,” he rushed to assure you. “Believe me…”

“I do not want to replace your mother, but if I am doing something-.”

“It is merely a force of habit. That is all,” he interrupted.

“You are sure…?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile.

“...okay,” you said with a nod. “...and what will you be doing after this...?”

“I will be speaking with my father,” he reluctantly told you.

“Good,” you said, Peter bending to allow you to quickly peck his forehead. “...and please be polite. I hate the way you two provoke each other.”

He roughly exhaled.

“Yes...mother…,” he seemed to bite out, eyes on you.

You looked to him with wide eyes, heart swelling as your smile grew. You chuckled, kissing his forehead one last time before leaving him to finish his instruction.

Contrary to what you had hoped, your advice did not improve things. Now that Peter had agreed to at least looking for a wife, it just gave him and Tony one more thing to disagree on, and disagreements about the smallest of things only gave room for disagreements about more serious matters. Peter hated the way Tony ran the kingdom, and you could not fault him for that.

Meals were more tense than ever, and it soon became suffocating to be in the same room as father and son. You did your best to keep the peace between them but there was only so much you could do. Especially when the arguments would get so intense that you feared for them. Tony could get so angry, and while you had never known him to put his hands on Peter as he did you, it still worried you that he might one day. And Peter…

Sometimes Peter would get a look in his eye that chilled you to the bone. He would get so fed up with his father, lips pressed together as Tony tore into him, and you would see the younger man’s eyes flash with something you could not name. It was a look that terrified you and made him look like someone that was not Peter, at all.

Tensions only mounted as your birthday neared. You did not want either of them involved in the party planning process, convinced this would be the final nail in the coffin. Truth be told, it was also for yourself as well. It allowed you to breathe better.

“The party is tomorrow night, and Peter has yet to have the last fitting for his attire,” you told Mary Jane as you stood.

“I can finish this up, your majesty, while you go find Peter,” she replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! I am almost finished, anyway.”

“Wonderful! I shall return shortly. There are only so many places he could be at this hour…”

The corridors were scarcely occupied as you decided to check Peter’s chambers first, making your way to his wing of the castle. You were unsurprised to find them empty, and you quickly made your way outside. He had a habit of frequenting the grounds, the maze especially, and you were confident that you would find him there then.

You had not been inside the maze for a while, but you remembered how to navigate it vividly. You were deep within it, somewhere in the middle perfectly between the beginning and the end when you stumbled upon a sight you were not prepared for.

At the other end of a long stretch, were a couple, far too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence. You felt your face heat up as you stumbled upon the lovers, and you were prepared to turn back when the young man lifted his head, familiar eyes meeting yours. A gasp escaped you, and you were frozen on the spot as Peter simply stared at you.

He did not break his gaze as he continued to thrust into the woman beneath him, who you absentmindedly recognized as Guinevere. Her eyes were closed, clinging to Peter as moans tumbled from her lips, and even though Peter was silent as he stared at you, the heat in his eyes was undeniable. Finally coming to your senses, you willed your feet to move, but you did not escape in time to miss the way Peter’s deep moan rang throughout the air.

Upon your return, you told Mary Jane that you were unable to find Peter. You did not want to think of the awkward encounter, and told yourself that the tailor had never been wrong before. You were positive that Peter’s attire would fit. You did not see the young man again until the following day, your birthday, and it was only an hour or so until your party. Tony was meeting with a few of his Lords when there was a knock on your chamber door.

You were quick to answer it, surprised to find Peter on the other side. You only felt uncomfortable for a moment before you took in his attire. You beamed, widening the door to allow him in.

“Oh, Peter, you look positively dashing!”

“Did you doubt that I would?” he smugly wondered.

You threw him a look.

“I swear, you are getting more and more like your father every day,” you told him with a chuckle.

“I got you something,” he suddenly said, and it was only then did you notice the box in his hand.

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening when he opened it to reveal the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. The ruby heart in the middle was positively blinding, standing out against the rest of the diamonds that made up the band. You pressed your hand to your chest, mouth parting.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh my… Peter, this is so sweet of you,” you told him.

“Well,” he started, setting the box aside as he took the piece of jewelry into his hands. “It is not every day that one turns thirty-six.”

He motioned for you to spin around, and you obliged.

“This might also double as an apology for yesterday. I regret that you had to see that,” he chuckled.

You joined him, waving him off.

“Nonsense, Peter. It was a bit of a shock, but nothing more. You are a young man, after all, and I could never fault you for doing what young men do. You are treating Guinevere well, I hope? She is a sweet girl.”

Peter groaned.

“Yes, Y/N.”

Your heart sank at the sound of your name, and you frowned a bit.

“I am treating her just fine,” he assured you.

You chose not to comment on his use of your name, wondering if you had done something wrong.

“Would you ever consider marrying her?” you pushed.

Peter was quiet as he brought his hands over to lower the necklace at your neck. It was not one that rested at your décolletage, but at your throat instead, and your eyes widened a bit when he pulled it back. You reached up to your neck, forced to stumble back into his chest to keep from choking, relaxing a bit when he finally clasped it together.

“No,” was his simple answer. “It is not like that.”

He rested his hands on your shoulder, turning you around to admire you. His dark eyes took you in before finally focusing on the necklace, the corner of his lips lifting a bit. He pressed his finger to the ruby heart, drawing patterns over it before eventually stepping away.

“It looks great,” he told you.

“Thank you. We should track down your father before they start my own celebration without me,” you replied.

It was not long after that the three of you were entering the great hall, a smile on your face as everyone greeted you. Tony and Peter were at your sides, and both of their hands rested at the small of your back as they guided you to the royal table at the head of the room. Everyone only quieted down when you took your seats, and you looked down at the familiar faces with a smile.

Your attention was drawn to Peter as he stood, raising his glass as a servant came by to fill them. He only filled yours and Peters, but another quickly came to fill Tony’s. Once everyone’s glasses were filled, that was when Peter spoke.

“I would like to propose a toast…”

He turned to look down at you, dark eyes unreadable as he swallowed.

“...to the woman who loved me even when I did not deserve it.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled at Peter, so happy that you two had come this far.

“No one could ever replace my mother...and I would not want them to, but you, Y/N, you are the next best thing.”

Your eyes softened, realizing that while maybe Peter did not see you as something akin to a mother just yet, he still loved you, and that gave you hope. You could live with that for now. Peter’s eyes fell onto his father, and he suddenly smiled.

“...and to my father, the king. If it were not for you, Y/N would never have come into our lives.”

His voice was even, but his eyes glinted before he turned to the rest of the royal court, his glass held high.

“To the king and queen. Long may they reign,” his voice traveled over the room.

Everyone else repeated his words before taking a drink, you and Tony following suit. As you set your glass down, you watched, a bit concerned, as Peter swallowed all of his wine, a look of satisfaction on his face as he lowered his glass. You turned to Tony, prepared to ask him if he wished to say anything, just as he let out that first cough.

It sounded nasty, and you frowned, prepared to ask him if he drank too fast when he coughed again, blood staining his bottom lip. Your heart fell to your stomach, eyes widening as you reached for him, hands trembling. You were prepared to call for help when you noted the sound of several coughs reaching your ears, followed by screams.

When you turned towards the rest of the room, you saw every single one of the royal court coughing up blood, and you stood on unsteady legs as understanding dawned on you. You reached for Peter, your hand gripping his arm as fear and horror clung to you.

“P-Peter…”

You looked to him, but his face was stony as he looked down at everyone. The only people who were okay were you, Peter, the servants, and the few guards. You watched as Peter waved his hand, confusion filling you as two guards opened the door to let more in. You were frozen as they all drew their swords, stomach churning as you realized what was about to happen. You turned back to Peter, but he was already moving past you.

“Peter, what- what is happening? What are you doing?”

You lunged for him as he drew a dagger, hand fisted into his fathers hair to pull the struggling man’s head back.

“Peter, no!”

He shoved you away, right into the arms of a waiting guard, and you did not turn your head in time to miss the way he dragged the blade across his father’s neck. A scream left you, belonging to a voice that you did not recognize, and you continued to scream and cry as the guard backed up. Peter pointed at you, his father’s blood coating his hand, his face unrecognizable to you.

“Get her out of here…”

His eyes met yours, dark with a harmful intent that terrified you. Who was this man? He ran his eyes over you.

“...and do not let her get away.”

You fought against the guard as he dragged you away, kicking and screaming all the way. Your efforts did not even cease as you made it into the corridor, having been forced past the dead bodies of your friends and acquaintances. The guard towered over you and was easily double your size, so all of your efforts were useless.

He only let you go when you reached Peter’s chambers, dragging you through the receiving chamber to toss you onto the floor of his bedchamber. The impact made your head spin, and by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, he was already pulling the door shut. You slammed your hands against it just as you heard it lock, and another sob threatened to escape you.

You had only ever been in Peter’s room a handful of times, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you looked around. Your chest hurt, heart breaking as you recalled the way Peter had so callously taken his father’s life. Your husband was dead, and it was no secret that the man was far from perfect, but his absence scared you. What would become of you now? Why did Peter not poison you like the rest? God, had his feelings never changed, at all? Had he still secretly hated you this whole time and wanted to get some sick satisfaction out of killing you here?

You lost count of how many times you tried the door before moving to the balcony doors. They too did not budge, and you kicked them in frustration. You could barely form a coherent thought, and more tears spilled over as you realized just how alone you were. You did not understand anything. Why would Peter do this?

As you heard someone enter his receiving chamber, it occurred to you that you might get your answer.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he entered his chambers, and you stumbled back, afraid to take your eyes off of him. You watched as he locked the door behind him, and the sight of that made your face crumble.

“What have you done?” you shakily asked.

The room was quiet save for your soft sobs, and you flinched when Peter took a step forward. He did not look like the young man you knew. He stood there in the dark attire he had picked out for your birthday, looking every bit like the murderous man you now knew him to be. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead, jaw clenched as he eyed you. It started to lightly rain outside, and your eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

His father’s blood.

“Have you come to kill me too?”

Finally, his face shifted, and he frowned at you.

“Kill you?”

Peter scoffed, laughing to himself as he tilted his head at you.

“You could not be farther from the truth…”

“Then what do you plan to do? What are you doing, Peter? I do not understand…”

“My father was going to run this kingdom into the ground. We both know it…”

You started shaking your head before he was even done.

“Something had to be done.”

“Not like this! You killed him- you killed everyone,” you cried.

“...and here I thought you would be thanking me,” he sneered.

“Thanking you?”

“Unless I was wrong, and you enjoy being slapped around,” he threw at you.

You felt as if you were just slapped then, and you pressed your back into the wall, tightening your arms around yourself.

“Not like this, Peter. Not like this,” you tearfully murmured.

The rain got louder, filling the otherwise silent room with some noise, and you flinched when lightning flashed, shedding light on the room and on Peter’s dark gaze.

“What will become of me? Did you ever think about that? I am the widow of a murdered king. A king murdered by his own son in a coup!”

“...and the future wife of the next one,” Peter calmly stated.

You froze, his words failing to make sense despite the fact that you heard him just fine. Something about them did not sound right, and your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping you.

“What...what did you just say?” you hesitantly questioned.

Peter took another step towards you, and you slid along the wall...away from him.

“Do you have any idea how much it pained me to watch you with him?”

“Peter…”

You shook your head, still moving away as he moved closer.

“Do know what it was like to watch him mistreat you again and again only to turn around and reap the spoils of his marriage as if he had not just caused you harm only moments before?”

His voice was low, thick with something you were too disgusted to name. Your eyes were wide, filled with tears as the reality of the situation dawned on you. Peter’s feelings, his father’s murder...the two of you alone in a castle full of people that have proven their loyalty to him. Peter was only eighteen when you married the king, standing face to face with you, but now, eight years later, the young man towered over you.

He suddenly chuckled, and the sound terrified you more than anything now.

“I find it funny… My father was always telling me that royals take. We take what is ours. We take what we believe we should have. That is what we do, son,” he mocked. “We take.”

His cold eyes bore into yours as you stumbled away from him. In a circle the two of you went, and you pulled on the handle of the door as you pressed your back to it. Fresh tears spilled as it refused to budge.

“Now look. I have taken his life, I have taken his kingdom, and I have taken the woman he thought belonged to him-.”

He swallowed the rest of his words as you suddenly dived to the other side of the room. Peter followed, and you reached up to pull the portrait from the wall, tossing it at him only for Peter to evade it. You frantically crawled across the bed, kicking Peter in the chest as he reached for your ankle. You fell to your knees on the other side, running to the balcony doors with tears in your eyes.

Again, the doors would not budge, and you were prepared to throw yourself through the glass when Peter was suddenly there at your back. He enclosed you in his arms, and you reached back to fight against him and push him away, but he only pinned you between him and the glass. The sound of the thunder drowned out your screams, and you yelped in shock when he fisted a hand in your hair, yanking your head to the side.

Peter was determined to taste you, tongue and teeth brushing your skin as he ground himself against you. Nothing you did seemed to deter him, and it suddenly felt hard to breathe. The storm raged outside, wind pushing rain against the window. One of Peter’s hands dragged up your leg, pushing the skirts of your dress with it, and you slammed your hands against the window, attempting to push back.

This only egged him on, and he moaned in your ear.

“Peter, please,” you begged

You could feel the air against you, and your efforts to get away only increased when you felt him moving to release himself. The hand in your hair moved to your neck, cutting off your airway as he pulled your head back to rest against him. You struggled to breathe, nails scraping against the glass. He leaned down to cover your lips with his own, kissing you for the first time, and you sharply inhaled.

He moaned at the taste of you, his tongue meeting yours, tasting the wine that you wish had killed you too. You both struggled against the window, your hands turning into fists when he pushed his leg between yours, quickly followed by the other. You turned your head away, your small victory overshadowed by your ultimate defeat as he thrust into you. You yelped just as Peter shuddered against your back, a long sigh escaping him as he pressed a hand into the glass beside your head.

He pressed his face into your hair, grinding against you, the sound of him breathing you in reaching your ears. Your own forehead was pressed to the glass now, tearful eyes taking in the storm as Peter dragged his cock in and out of your unwilling core. Your body shook from both your sobs and his ministrations, and again, you pushed against the glass in hopes to push him away.

He merely shoved his chest into your back, forcing you back against the glass before wrapping his arms around you again. One hand pulled at the neckline of your dress, ripping it straight down, and your lashes fluttered when he slipped his hand beneath the fabric to roll his fingers over you. His other arm came across your middle, pinning your own at your sides.

“You are finally mine,” he breathed after a while.

You shook your head in denial, another lightning strike bathing the room in a glow. It was gone as quickly as it came, and you were forced to focus on Peter’s reflection in the window. He was lost in the euphoria of you, the feel of you wrapped around him, sucking him back in again and again.

“Finally,” he groaned. “At my side and in my bed as my queen…”

His hand slipped from beneath the torn fabric of your dress, dancing along your skin before his fingers brushed over the diamond choker at your neck.

“I have all night to claim you as mine, and no one is around to stop me.”

“Peter, this is not you-.”

“Oh, but it is,” he sighed. “This is the man you loved when he did not deserve it. This is the man you will marry, bear children with…’

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears falling at his words.

“Oh, please. Everyone knew that my father was the problem. He was the only one in denial about it, and I have a feeling that by the time I am done with you, you shall be with child by tomorrow.”

“Peter, please,” you screamed.

His hand tightened on your throat, pulling your head back so you were forced to stare at the ceiling, back arched to take his slow and purposeful thrusts. He kissed the corner of your eye before doing the same to your cheek. His breathing was choppy, heart pounding in his chest, and the way his hips stuttered told you that he was close.

“Oh God,” he moaned, stilling against your back as he spilled himself into you.

You froze against him at the feel, realizing that there was no turning back. You shook in his hold, feeling the urge to be sick when he suddenly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers. You gasped, reaching down to grab his wrist as he shoved a second finger inside of you, the wet sound of it reaching your ears even with the rain outside. He pressed you to his chest as he curled his fingers into you.

You bucked your hips, ashamed with your actions as he pulled pleasure from you like it was nothing. LIke he somehow knew your body better than you did. His lips were at your ear, brushing against your skin before he trailed them to your neck again, pressing kisses there. Your nails dug into his wrist, but he paid your efforts no mind as he thrust his fingers into you, setting a pace that had your legs shaking. You knew that if it were not for his hold, you would have collapsed already.

Peter hummed when your breath hitched.

“You are close...aren’t you?”

“Peter...stop,” you shakily begged.

“I shall stop when I feel your arousal dripping down my hand,” he purred.

His words had you clenching around him, and he moaned against your neck.

“I suppose I cannot blame my father for being so possessive of you. Your walls feel like heaven…”

“Peter…”

“I do not know how I will ever allow you to leave our bed-.”

“Peter-.”

“I guess I shall just have to keep you tired…”

“Please-!”

“Come for me, Y/N. Fall apart for your king,” he whispered.

And you did. You seized in his arms, walls clenching around him, your arousal coating his fingers and dripping down his hand. Your nails drew blood, but he only moaned with you, cursing as you rode yourself on his fingers, your other hand reaching back to twist into his shirt. That was the hardest you ever came, and shame filled you. As you came down from your high, Peter lowered the both of you to the floor.

It was only then did you notice the bloody handprints on the glass. The same blood on you, no doubt. More tears sprung forth as it all seemed to hit you, and Peter forced your head onto his shoulder as he shushed you. You obliged, and he leaned down to press his lips to your forehead, rocking you as you sobbed in his tightening arms.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @mcudarklibrary @melli0112 @buckybarnesplumwhore @dramaholic18

#dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #ROYAL AU #prince peter parker #dark fic

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

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