#I was still drawing princesses when I would sob and sob as I prayed over and over and over and over and I was so terrified that I was

[questionably-audhd-oracle]

Heyyyyyyyy so I accidentally delved into a part of my childhood that I never think about and realized my life has been even more depressing than I previously have been thinking- I don’t even know what to do with this shit at this point

[saintlike78]

Bad day [D.M.]

Parings: Husband! Draco Malfoy x fem! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N comes home from work after having the worst day and doesn’t want Draco to see her sad, so she decides to go past his office without greeting him. Draco thinks she’s being bratty and goes to punish her but finds her crying and comforts her instead.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, shower sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, slight fingering, unprotected sex, reader being sad.

You loved your job, it made you so happy, most of the time, but today you wanted to either scream, cry or pull your hair out, purely out of frustration.

Closing the front door gently, hoping your husband wouldn’t hear you come home, you quietly remove your shoes and coat.

Usually, you loved coming home after a long day of work to see Draco, working away in his home office, or with dinner ready for you to eat together. Today was different, you could feel a breakdown slowly creeping up on you and you really didn’t want to burden Draco with a crying mess, when he was also stressed with his own work. You knew Draco would always comfort you when you’re feeling down, but it still made you feel guilty.

Moving your feet quietly down the long hallway that led to your bedroom, but said hallway unfortunately also housed Draco’s office. The door to his office was open and you could hear him typing away on the keys of his computer, soft music filling the background. During any other normal day, you would make your way into said office and greet him with a kiss and sometimes you would stay and watch him until he was done with work, making this a little routine.

As quickly as you possibly could, you breeze past the office, praying he was too busy to notice you.

Alas, this is Draco we’re talking about, so of course, he noticed. He had heard the front door click shut and heard your soft footsteps make their way down the hall, he had expected them to lead to him, but was very surprised when your figure passed by the door, without even a small greeting. Furrowing his brows, Draco shut his laptop and stared at the doorway, almost expecting you to come in laughing because he was half expecting your action to be a joke. When you didn’t appear, but instead heard the water from the shower running, coming from the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, he could feel the annoyance building.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to being a bit bratty, to rile him up, so Draco’s mind instantly jumped to this conclusion, maybe you just wanted attention and that was exactly what you were going to get.

Getting up from his office chair, Draco made his way into the bedroom where he could see your work clothes thrown haphazardly in a path leading to the bathroom.

Smirking, he opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not alert you of his presence and he slowly slid into the bathroom.

You were in the shower, facing away from him, the water engulfing your head to muffle out the sound of the outside world, your salty tears mixing with the warm water from the shower. You knew Draco would probably hear the shower running, but that he hopefully would be too busy with work to think about it.

Ridding himself of his own clothes, Draco’s mind was racing, thinking of what kind of punishment he would bestow upon you for ignoring him.

Walking behind the glass of the shower, Draco stood and took a moment to admire you from behind, thinking about how lucky he was (and also about ravishing you, but mostly admiring).

“So, what makes you think it’s okay to ignore me, darling?” Draco started, finally announcing his presence.

His voice behind you startled you a bit and made you jump slightly, but you still didn’t turn around to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see you bawling your eyes out because of something as silly as work.

When you didn’t turn, Draco just assumed you were testing his patience, so he walked closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating his body.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, I don’t appreciate this bratty behavior,” he said as he grabbed your arm to get you to turn around, but you just shook your head.

Draco was suddenly confused; normally when you were being bratty, you would always come with a snarky comment or directly test his patience, not actually ignore him.

He grabbed both your arms, forcing you to turn, and that’s when he saw your red puffy eyes, he only assumed they were accompanied by tears, but the water from the shower disguised them. Your body was quivering slightly as you took shaky breaths, still not looking him in the eye.

“Darling… what’s the matter?”

You shook your head again, knowing that if you started talking your voice would break and a fresh set of tears would make their way out. Draco just took your body and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his bare chest.

As soon as his arms were around you, you buried your face in his chest and the tears started again, making you let out small sobs against him.

Stroking your back gently he tried getting you to talk again, “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you? Was it something I did?”

“No,” you hiccuped as you spoke, “you didn’t do anything… I just had a very bad day at work, and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“My darling,” he cooed, “I’m always here for you when you’re having a bad day, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me… you’re not a bother, I always want to help you feel better.”

Retracting your face from his chest so you could look at his face, finally meeting his eyes, still in his arms, you gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, still stroking your back.

“Not right now,” you started, your tears having calmed down, “I just want to not think about it.”

Draco nodded and smirked slightly. “I might have a way to take your mind off it.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the small smile that was working its way onto your face.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

His smirk only grew at your response, “I could wash your hair.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head once again at his little game.

“Okay, you can wash my hair,” you said and tilted your head up slightly and puckering your lips, silently asking for a kiss.

Draco grinned and bent his head down to meet your lips in a short, but loving kiss.

Grabbing your shampoo from the shelf he squirted some in his hand and brought it to your hair, slowly lathering it up and massaging it in. You let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying the way his long slender fingers worked their magic on your scalp.

After rinsing your hair of the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing that as well you thought you would be done, but Draco, as always, had different plans.

“Now, darling, your hair is nice and clean, but we’re still missing one step,” he said with a smirk and a playful look in his eyes.

You cocked your head a tad, asking him a silent question with the action, wondering what he had in mind.

Smirking even wider, he grabbed the small showerhead and also turned off the overhead shower. Turning on the smaller showerhead and setting the water pressure to the highest setting, it clicked in your brain what he was going to do, and your stomach flipped with excitement and you could already feel your arousal start to seep out.

Gripping your waist, he held you close, but still left a gap between you, making room for the showerhead. Slowly, he brought the showerhead over your stomach and guided it downwards, pausing right above your heat, but not for long. Finally, he brought it down so the water could hit your clit perfectly, making your breath hitch and then letting out a long breathy moan. The pressure from the water was making your knees quiver and you reached one hand up to grab Draco’s shoulder and the other gripped his bicep to keep yourself upright.

The moans you were letting out were going straight to Draco’s, already painfully hard, cock.

“You make such pretty noises, princess.”

Getting closer and closer to your release, you started to slowly move your hips to create a nice pulsing friction against your clit. Draco, of course, noticed and smirked, your moans and whines enough confirmation that you were close.

“You gonna cum for me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer from the way your grip on his shoulder and bicep was tightening more by the second.

Nodding, you let out a breathy whine as your orgasm finally took over, making your knees quiver and body shake with pleasure. If Draco hadn’t been holding you up by your waist, you surely would have crumbled to the ground.

Draco turned off the water for the small showerhead, but turned the large overhead shower on again, as for you not to freeze.

“You did so good, my good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss you all over your face, “you ready to take my cock, angel?”

“Yes, please Draco,” you whimpered out, very desperate for him to fill you.

He chuckled at your neediness but nevertheless brought your back towards the wall.

“Jump, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you jump slightly. Catching you, Draco makes you wrap your legs around his waist.

With one hand on your waist, holding you up, he uses his free hand to guide his length between your soaked folds, slowly entering you.

You both let out simultaneous moans as he enters you, his hand now going under your thigh as he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“You feel so good, always so good and tight for me, my darling,” he groans out.

“Faster, Draco, please,” you manage to get out between moans.

Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. Picking up his pace, his hips move faster, chasing your second high of the evening and his own.

You’re a babbling mess, leaning forward to kiss him before burying your face in his neck, lightly biting down.

Draco lets out a particularly loud groan at the sensation, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm. Reaching between the two of you, he finds your clit and draws circles, wanting you to finish before he does.

You let out a loud moan and without warning your orgasm washes over you, making you see stars, whilst your entire body shakes, gripping Draco’s back so hard, you’re afraid you’ve drawn blood.

Hearing your moan and feeling your walls flutter around him, Draco himself is brought to his end. Dick twitching, you feel him release inside of you.

“Yeah, take all my cum, you’re gonna be so full,” he groans as he pumps slowly in and out of you, making sure you’re nice and filled.

Emptying completely inside, he slowly pulls out, earning a low whine-esque moan from you, and helps you down on your feet. He stabilizes you, with one hand on your hip and crouches down, and enters two fingers in your already very sensitive cunt.

“No, too se..sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know, my baby, just want to make sure you’re nice and full,” he coos, looking up at your blissed-out face.

Deciding that you’re full enough, Draco pulls out his fingers and stands up, guiding his fingers to your mouth beckoning you to open, which you gladly do. Taking his fingers in your mouth and sucking lightly, to clean them, you look up at Draco with the most innocent look you can muster, even though what you just did was very far from innocent. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling a little back and his head also falling a little back.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You smirk a little and he removes his fingers.

Leaning down, he kisses you again, this kiss slow and passionate, thumb slowly stroking your cheek.

After cleaning you up, Draco jumped out of the shower, drying himself off before grabbing you a towel and letting you dry off, while he went to your bedroom and rummaging through his closet for a jumper, for you to wear.

Finally satisfied with the clothing option he picked for you, he quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and sweats, before making his way back to the bathroom.

Watching in silence as you pulled on the (very skimpy) pair of panties and the jumper he had picked out, he was just admiring you, doing the most mundane thing, but to him, you were just ethereal.

“Come on, darling, let’s go cuddle and you can tell be all about who I have to hex for you,” Draco said, making you chuckle.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him, before he could guide you out of the bathroom, you puckered your lips, indicating the fact that you wanted a kiss.

Chuckling, he bent down and lovingly pecked your lips.

“Thank you for always cheering me up, my love,” you said as Draco began to lead you to the bedroom and towards your shared bed.

Draco smirked, “anytime, princess,” he winked.

[finitevoid]

fairytales for children with no souls, an addendum: a requiem for genevieve grimhilde. read the rest here.

grimhilde pets evie’s black hair and whispers to her. whispers to evie about auradon, about princes and kings and golden bejeweled crowns and velvet-silk-cashmere gloves that reach your elbows. and grimhilde dresses evie in soiled clothes hastily cleaned in a bathtub full of old bleach because its the best they have, and she pets her black hair and cooes when evie pulls on her best pair of cotton gloves.

evie’s favorite person in the whole world is her sister genevieve. genevieve has dyed-blue hair and brown eyes that glitter in the gray light of the island of the lost and evie wants to be just like her someday. to be as graceful, as cool and calm and collected as genevieve. she calls her sister “jenny” and her sister calls her “eve” and they whisper the nicknames like a well-kept secret.

grimhilde pets evie’s dyed blue hair and tells her things. “men don’t like to feel intimidated,” she tells her. “you must keep your intelligence close to your chest, where they cannot see it.” she brushes evie’s hair well into the night and helps her dye it blue with berries and chemicals wasted from auradon. “a man must think you are easily swayed. that you are soft, malleable. able to be molded.” and grimhilde’s eyes glint silver in the light as she whispers, “you must never let him know that he is the one being molded by you.”

men hold all the power, she is told. she must allow men to think they have power over her, when in reality, they do not. she must marry a prince and turn him into a puppet-on-a-string. she will whisper ideas into his ear with such ease he thinks they were his own. she will be the one to order trade, to begin wars, to control the populace, all by pulling a silly man’s face close to her’s and effortlessly swaying him to her ideas. all the power with none of the glory. she must marry a prince, a powerful prince. so that when he is crowned ruler, the true king, controlling the kingdom from the shadows? is evie.

jenny never talks about princes or kings or riches and power. jenny always talks to evie about fairytales. she reads storybooks to her and points at the drawings waterlogged pages. but evie never cares about the drawings, no. she listens to jenny describe the perfect world of auradon, with its rich colors and thriving wildlife. she seems to spin the image of fields and fields of flowers in the air, uses her voice to create the picture of the richest of red apples, held to perfect lips and ineffably poisoned.

jenny has never met snow white, but evie can tell that she wants to. “she’s our sister, in a sense,” she explains. “she’s a queen now... living with her prince charming in auradon.”

“have you ever been to auradon?” evie asks, because she is still young and naive and thinks that such a thing is possible.

jenny’s laugh is like bells, but her eyes are drooping with sadness. “no, eve.” she continues to smile, despite the tenseness in her shoulders. jenny smiles through it all. whenever grimhilde rages at them, screams at her own reflection, jenny would hold evie close and hum a lullaby in her ears, smiling.

she smiles at the boy next door, who had sullen brown eyes and curly salt-and-pepper hair when he comes to their tower with blood spilt all over himself. his name is diego, and jenny would smile as she tended to his wounds. would smile as she cupped his face when traitorous tears fell, and that was always when evie left to go spend time in the garden, granting them privacy.

jenny tried so hard to keep up their garden. “we’re witches,” she told evie, once, a hand-woven basket hung over her arm as she stood over the meager flower bed. “it’s customary we keep a garden.”

it was mostly weeds, but jenny would stay out in the garden until late at night, pressing her hands together in fruitless prayer and desperately trying to call upon magic she didn’t have to make flowers grow. “we are supposed to be connected to nature,” jenny whispered, once. fell on her knees beside the flower bed, wiping tears as they fell down her cheeks. “we are supposed to be one with life.”

evie did not say that their mother was hardly “one with life” when she poisoned snow white with an apple. maybe we are cursed, evie thinks. cursed by nature to never grow another flower, for our mother’s sins. she forsook life, and so it forsakes her in return.

but her theory is dashed when, one day, a single flower peeks through the sea of weeds. it is white, and fragile, its veined petals swaying in the hot, garbage-smelling breeze. “you are like this flower,” jenny told her. holding her close, her voice was hoarse with something like terror, her chapped lips pressed to evie’s temple. “beauty among garbage.”

“if that is the analogy,” evie replied, conerned by her sister’s distress. “then you are more like this flower than I.”

and jenny began to weep, sobs shaking her shoulders as she cried. evie tried to wipe her sister’s tears, but they continued to fall, cascading down her face and plonking onto the white flower’s petals.

the tears watered the flower, and after that day, it grew another bud.

“who is the fairest of them all?” grimhilde asks, and it is a question she has asked a million times before, but there is something different, now. something metal in her voice, something cold in her eyes. genevieve has graduated highschool and evie has only just started it, and they stand at attention in the dining room like soldiers, their hands held behind their backs.

“you.” genevieve says, and there is a cruelty in the way she says it, rage hanging around her shoulders, a cold undercurrent in her tone. “it will always be you.”

grimhilde takes a step toward genevieve, and grips her chin in her fingers. “remember your place, girl.” she says, all haughty pride and cool rage. “i put you into this world, and don’t you ever forget that.”

“you are the fairest.” genevieve says. “i don’t want to be the fairest.” her voice breaks on the word ‘want’.

“yes,” grimhilde murmurs. “i will be.”

evie doesn’t remember what she did that night. but she woke up to the iron smell of blood. clouds and smog covered the sky outside her window.

jenny was covered in the iron-steel-tang of hot-red-maroon blood of her own throat. her own gore covered her nightgown and the bedsheets, staining them so thoroughly it would never wash out. her throat was- was cut, torn, shredded, destroyed. her throat was a gaping open wound, still oozing gore. a dagger sat next to her sister’s face, glinting in the candlelight. her eyes stared dully at the ceiling, unseeing. her face was purely and utterly blank.

diego de vil helps bury her, next to her flower bed.

evie does not weep. she is not wracked with sobs. she is not consumed with despair like the pretty perfect doll princesses of the storybooks.

she is filled with a white hot, all-consuming, vicious rage. she shakes with the force of it. it burns beneath her skin, lighting up her core like magma, like lava, like fire, slow-moving and murderous. the rage is agony, burning, powerful agony. it fills her from the inside, fills her up, up, up, until she cannot contain its burning, and it pours out of her from every angle like vomit. but instead of snarling and shouting, she smiles. she forces her muscles to tense into that of a disarming smile, never letting it fall, never letting it falter.

evie takes the dagger used to murder her sister and sets onto the town. she asks around, finds out who grimhilde paid to do the deed, and she finds him. in a backwater house somewhere in downtown, and she sinks his own dagger into his throat as he sleeps. he awakes with a gurgle, stares up at her in horror, and then dies in his own bed. covered in his own gore, his sheets stained so red it would never wash out.

flowers bloom over jenny’s grave, and evie spits on them. how dare they only bloom after jenny died covered in her own gore. how dare they ignore her prayers, her cries, her tears, only to appear over her corpse. how dare they take suffering so violent and disgusting and turn it into something beautiful. jenny deserved for the world to be bathed in the same suffering she felt in her last moments. parasites, the damn things are, evie thinks. feeding on her corpse for nutrients. sucking up what little is left of genevieve grimhilde.

there was no peace, no beauty. only agony. hot, burning suffering. evie would make the world feel her sister’s agony one person at a time if she had to. she would make herself feel the agony of her sister’s suffering. she would suffer, in her honor. in her memory.

(it was the least evie deserved.)

evie smears snow white’s storybook in red. she covers it in the red stain until evie can taste the iron and she sinks the dagger into the pages again, and again, and again. she slashes and rips and tears until nothing is left but puply, bloodstained scraps of paper. she dumps the mangled storybook over the flowers, and prays to any god that deigns to listen that it kills them.

it does not. the flowers flourish, the only garden on the isle. they grow high above the gore, absorb the paper and iron-steel-tang-hot-red-maroon blood into their veins and grow higher, and higher. they tower over evie’s reach, dancing in the breeze and reaching toward the sky. reaching for escape, in auradon. evie spits on them.

“who is the fairest of them all?” grimhilde asks, gray sunlight filtering in through the windows.

evie forces her face muscles to tense into that of a smile, hands clutched dutifully in front of her. “you, mother.” she tugs the smile a little wider, a little happier. “always you.”

grimhilde fixes evie with an appraising expression, until her wrinkled, aging face curls into a cruel smile. her face, stained permanently from bleach being smeared on it, stretches and tugs into a wicked smirk. “you hate me, darling.” grimhilde chuckles. “and you should. your smile is perfect.”

she pets evie’s dyed-blue hair as she passes, dress swishing around her ankles, her other arm flourishing. “nobody will be any the wiser, if you use that smile. you make a perfect grimhilde, indeed.” she whispers.

[brandstifter-sys]

Corpse Groom

Word Count: 1712                     (Ao3)

Characters: Janus, Patton, Roman, Remus, Virgil

Relationships: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: mild body horror, death mention, decay, zombies, crying, innuendo

--------

Janus was a reasonable side. He put up with a fair amount of nonsense and contributed to Thomas' well-being. All he asked for were a chance to make his case and that no one touch his hat.

"I swear to you, Patton, there will be hell to pay if he doesn't have it!" Janus practically snarled at the side on his left, "I don't care how much you want to protect him. I have one rule!"

"Don't speak to Patton that way!" Roman cut in, glaring at Janus. He was not happy about parading around with the snake, but he was not about to let Patton go alone.

Janus stopped outside Virgil's door and hissed at him. Without his hat, he looked far more feral and far less patient.

"Now Roman, it's okay. Jan is upset, really upset, and I know he doesn't mean it. What would you do if someone took your sword? This is important to him," Patton chided and did the honor of knocking on the door. Roman bristled and crossed his arms.

"What!?" Virgil groaned tiredly from the other side of the door.

"Hey kiddo, it's just me. I was wondering if you knew where Janus' hat was!"

"On his head?" Virgil grumbled, "I don't have it. I wouldn't want it! Ask Remus or something!"

Any response died in Patton's throat the second he laid eyes on Janus. The poor thing was teary eyed and clawing at his hair.

"Thanks anyway, Virge!" Pat responded and scooped Janus into his arms. He ignored Roman's disapproving glare and made his way to the common area. Janus clung to his shirt and sobbed.

"It's okay, Yellow Jay. We'll find it," Patton said soothingly and sat on the couch. Janus shook his head and buried his face in Patton's shoulder, not caring that Roman came in and could see him like this.

"Logan doesn't have it! It's not lost in your room! Remus said he doesn't have it! Virgil and Roman don't want to sully their hands with anything of mine! It's gone!"

”What do you mean 'sully?'"

"They hate me and want nothing to do with me! I tried to be helpful and it backfired! I don't care about that now, I just want my hat back!" he wailed and trembled in Patton's arms. Patton shot a pointed look at Roman, who looked uncomfortable.

Roman sat down on the other side of the sectional and twiddled his thumbs. He had to keep Patton safe from this slippery serpent but he really didn't want to sit and watch his nemesis cry. He would take discomfort over uncertainty.

Die, die, we all pass away

Remus' voice floated through the room, like a distant echo laced with radio static. Janus paused and dried his eyes as the chilling words encircled him. He had no idea what Remus was up to.

But don't wear a frown, 'cause it's really okay!

Patton and Roman shared an unsettled look.

You might try and hide and you might try and pray! But we all end up the remains of the day!

Remus faded out like a whisper on the wind, leaving an iciness in his wake. The three sat in silence, anticipating the worst. But nothing happened.

"What is he doing?" Roman asked and rolled his neck.

"I have every idea," Janus huffed, his voice still wet from his breakdown.

"Well whatever it is, it looks like he—"

Die, die, we all pass away! But don't wear a frown 'cause it's really okay!

"I sit corrected," Patton winced. Janus hugged him and ruffled his hair. Patton would need cuddles after this.

You might try and hide and you might try and pray! But we all end up the remains of the day!

Remus' voice traveled like a fog over the three, always the same lyrics, changing in volume as if he were dancing about the room. It put Patton and Roman on edge. Janus was trying to compose himself rather than pay attention to Remus' antics. He was trying to get attention from someone else.

It was after the fifth time Remus graced them with his eerie song that Virgil trudged into the common area, still waking up. He was going to question the trio shifting uncomfortably in their seats but then Remus started singing again.

Virgil sighed and walked in front of the couch, scanning the ceiling for something.

"I take it he's bothering you," Virgil said, turning his back to them as he scanned overhead. He paused for a moment and sighed, crossing his arms. Remus was going to pay for this.

In an instant, Virgil's usual hoodie and jeans combo was gone. Instead, he was in a gorgeous, albeit old and faded, strapless wedding dress that showed off his back and shoulders. Or it would have, if not for the long veil that dropped past his hips. It was certainly enough to make Roman gawk.

Until he turned around, still examining the ceiling and shifting to get in position.

"Zombie!" Patton shrieked and clung to Janus. Virgil paid him no mind. His left arm was all bone and his skin was blue. Part of his left cheek was rotted away to reveal his teeth, there was enough decay on his right side to show some rib, and from his ankle to his thigh, his right leg was all bone, with just enough flesh on his foot to wear a pair of heels that he really didn't need. The slit in his skirt revealed that much to the confused sides.

Adjusting the flowery veil and righting his neck, Virgil took a deep breath and said,

"Hopscotch."

He held out his arms as a skeleton fell from the ceiling with a yell. He was bare, save for a familiar mustache and an even more familiar derby hat. Patton nearly fainted.

"Hey! Give me a listen you corpses of cheer! At least those of you who still got an ear!" Remus sang and went limp in Virgil's arms. He was fighting back a smile.

"I'll tell you a story that'll make a skeleton cry!" He ran a bony finger down his cheek, drawing attention to his only eye. Janus knew where to aim first.

"Of our own jubiliciously lovely corpse bride!" Remus sang, spreading his arms to show off Virgil. When there was no response he sat up and licked Virgil's cheek, and for good measure, grabbed his butt.

Virgil dropped him and held up his hands. Remus landed with a yelp. Janus got up and snatched his hat. He sank out with a huff.

"What the hell was that!?" Roman snapped. Remus shrugged.

"An idea! And it was a good idea! Just look at this hot emo snack!" Remus giggled and tried to get a peek up Virgil's skirt. He had to know the extent of the decay!

Virgil pushed him away with his foot, with some force, before bending over and picking him up again. It was safer for everyone that way.

"Before you say anything about me in a dress, you might want to take Pat to his room. He looks like he's gonna be sick," Virgil said pointedly. He made it a point not to show this much skin—and bone–around anyone but Remus. He stopped trying to keep the duke from seeing since he showed up at the worst times.

Roman nodded solemnly and picked Patton up like a princess. He sank out with the father figure and left the undead to their business.

"Are you ever going to ask me to watch a movie like a normal person?" Virgil scoffed and averted his gaze, "And you can ask to cosplay rather than this."

"Nope! It's so much more fun to see how you react to my set-up!" Remus jeered, "I was hoping for you to say your vows so I could pop up in the dress and smooch you! But this works too!"

"If that happened I would definitely try to get away from you and get hitched to some boring girl—named Virginia. I'm not about to do that."

"Is it 'cause you're gay or because I'm that irresistible?" Remus teased and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm very gay but I don't do skeletons," Virgil scoffed playfully. Remus giggled and snapped his fingers, or whatever someone without flesh does. In an instant Virgil's rot and blue skin were gone and Remus was naked in his arms.

"You forgot something," Virgil jeered.

"No I didn't!" Remus argued, "I have skin, and plenty of it if you wanna take a bite! And you, well your pecs look good in this dress. And your arms and legs. You're really hot. I would be your ball and chain, you can attach some balls and chains to my—"

"I have my own ideas for you," Virgil mused and set Remus on his feet. Virgil snapped his fingers and willed his second favorite onesie on, unzipped just for Remus. He got Remus in his grinch onesie too and set up the tv to watch Corpse Bride.

"It starts with a movie, then some trashy rom com to give us the chance to make out, and then we'll figure something out."

"Kinky!" Remus giggled and clapped his hands, "You know me too well, Scare Bear!"

"I like to know about my secret idiot boyfriend," Virgil teased and licked his cheek, "Maybe I'll tell the others soon so Princey doesn't get any ideas. I'd hate to see you murder him over me."

"What about—?"

"About anything else isn't good, but I don't know if I would completely hate it," Virgil joked and dragged Remus to the couch, pulling him against his side.

"Have I mentioned that I love you?"

"No, but I love you, so I beat you to it today," Virgil said and played the movie. Remus snickered and kissed his cheek.

"I can do better!"

"I'd like to see you try."

"With this hand I will lift your sorrows," Remus hummed and grabbed Virgil's hand, interlacing their fingers, "Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine—"

"Shut up," Virgil huffed, though his eyeshadow was turning purple.

"Okay!" Remus giggled and snuggled closer. He had better ideas to make Virgil his corpse groom—without making him an actual corpse!

[come-on-shitty-boys]

The Soldier. Miya Atsumu

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2K

Notes:  The first installment to my mini-collection entitled “Soldier, Poet, King,” inspired by the song of the same name by The Oh Hellos.  That song really makes me want to dance in a meadow of wildflowers in a white flowy dress, no front.

June 28

My love,

I pray that this letter finds you well.  The months that have drifted by where I have not been able to see your smile have caused nothing but heartache.  But, the prospects of seeing you once again fills me with even more determination to come home to you.  Each night that passes is one night closer to this war being over and one day closer to being by your side again.  

I sense that this will draw to a close soon.  There is talk amongst the troops that our final attack will be launched within the coming months after the adequate preparation is made.  I hope that you think of me during these trying times.  Knowing that I have crossed your mind for even an instant is enough to stay alive.  My love, I wish to return to you as soon as possible.  We can finally seal our love and begin a new life together, that’s a promise.  Please know that I think of you each minute of every day.  You are in my head at this very moment while I scribe this letter to you.  Waking and asleep, I yearn only to have you in my company once more.  

I hope that you write back quickly.  While I am many miles from you, these letters that carry the faintest hints of your perfume are my only piece of you.  It is nothing compared to the real thing, but I will gratefully take what I can.  Until the next, my love.

                                                                                                Yours,

                                                                                                 Miya Atsumu

The small piece of parchment is folded and slipped back into the drawer of a nightstand where it will wait to be read again the next day.  The ink had begun to fade, the edges worn from constant handling.  It had been nearly three months without any sort of communication from your beloved.  There had not been a single letter come through the post with your name written across the envelope in his messy script, but every day you still ran out to greet the postman, that tiny light of hope still shining brightly within you, even if only for a few moments.  But, it would only be diminished as the mail was handed to you and just as it had been for the past three months, the postman would smile sadly, knowing just as well as you did that there was no letter from Atsumu.  

Your heart kept repeating over and over that he was fine, that maybe he was so busy getting ready for the end of the war that he didn’t have time to write to you.  Maybe his letters were getting lost in the mail and there were half a dozen envelopes with your name on them sitting in a pile of letters.  But, even you knew that that was a far stretch of the imagination.  The others who had found love in the arms of military men had been hearing from their own sweethearts.  It was the height of conversation during every encounter.  “Have you heard from him?” “Yes!  I just got a new letter last week.  And you?  Has he written to you?” And each conversation was only met with a saddened expression when you explained that, no, he hadn’t written to you in a while.  You were always assured with a delicate embrace that he would write soon, but as time ticked by, those reassurances began to make you feel worse and worse.

He promised that he would be back.  He promised to make you happy, grow a life with you.  If there was one thing you knew better than anything, it was that Miya Atsumu never broke his promises to you.  But, that heavy feeling that you found sinking further and further in your stomach each night was becoming difficult to ignore.  Each day that passed without a word from him was just another day where you came closer to believing the worst.  Surely, though, if something had happened to him, someone would’ve told you.  One of his friends from the military would’ve written to you or, at the very least, you thought that Osamu would’ve told you about how his brother was doing, but there was nothing.  No one was able to inform you of Atsumu's condition and the unknown was eating away at you with every passing hour.  

Still, you clung onto the lingering promise that was beginning to fade from the parchment.  He would be back.

But, then another moon passed and your reality began to sink in.  You had unfolded and read that final letter so many times, the creases beginning to rip from the wear.  There were smudges in the lingering ink where shaky sobs had fallen to the parchment in the privacy of wavering candlelight.  You would grow old all on your own, your one love being buried in the ground with thousands of other men who had fallen on the battlefield at such a young age.  

“Have hope.  My Kita says that the war is coming to a close.”

But, it was so very easy to have hope when there was something telling you that he was alive and well.  How were you to continue holding on to this idea that was kept trying to fly away from you?  While the dove flittered away, a large raven loomed behind you.  How could you possibly focus on keeping the dove in your grasp with the chilling gaze of the raven’s beady eyes boring into your soul, constantly reminding you of its presence?  You couldn’t, no matter how much you struggled to keep that little white bird contained, it kept slipping out of your hands, leaving you with the scary alternative.  

Each day became harder to bear.  Each day that passed where you couldn’t hear Atsumu’s warm laughter, see his lazy gaze that never failed to be so full of adoration for you, each day that he wasn’t bringing your hand up to his lips in a kiss, one that told the world that you were his while still abiding by the social norm, was like living another day in your own personal hell.  To share those hasty kisses in the privacy of your home, but still not letting lips be attached for long in fear that someone might see an unmarried couple engaged in such a taboo act of love, the feeling of his lips pressed against your own in such fevered declarations of his fondness for you felt like a dream that had happened one too many eons ago.  The knot that grew in your chest with each thought of him brought your sobs closer to surfacing all over again.  But, rather, you choked them all away, keeping your head high in a way that you knew would make you Atsumu proud.  You could almost hear his low chuckle, feel his hand patting your head gently, “You’re really something, aren’t you?  Always so confident.  You’ll be fine without me for a little while, princess.”

The thought alone was enough to make you snort.  If only he could see inside your mind right now, see that you were anything but fine as the worst possible outcome played over and over, never pausing to give you a break.  The image of Miya Atsumu laying out in the heat of a battlefield, bloodied and wounded, trying to fight for one more breath kept weaving its way into your mind, but it always ended the same way.  Those bright brown eyes that always held an air of excitement would fall dim, his toned chest would struggle to rise and inevitably fail, head lolling limply to the side as a fellow platoon member closed his eyelids for the last time.

“I hear that the soldiers are returning this week,” Ayaka said as she sat across from you one afternoon, the tea cup rising to her lips.  You hadn’t touched your own cup.  It still sat on the table in front of you, two sugar cubes waiting to be stirred in.  Your thoughts had been gnawing at you non-stop, but this prospect-

He could be coming home.

It brought the dove back into reach, even if only for a moment.  You were able to forget about that steady gaze of the raven, focusing solely on the white bird that had returned to you.  

“Do you know when?”

“Thursday, I believe.  My sister and I plan on coming into town to greet them.  Would you care to join us?  Even- even if he’s not there, you could at least get a sense of closure.”

You didn’t want to think about the possibility of Atsumu not marching along the ranks of men, you just wanted to see him one more time, to tell him that you loved him all over again.  But, even as you weighed the idea that your friend could be right about his fate, you found yourself nodding in agreement to her proposal.

The letter had been read three more times, each night ending with clutching that wrinkled piece of parchment to your chest, wishes made to some nameless being in hopes that he would come back to you.  “Please. . .”

Blue military jackets adorned by weary looking men lined the streets, people smiling and cheering that their loved ones had returned home after such long months of being gone.  Ranks were broken as people rushed to the awaiting arms of their families, but as much as you scanned the rows, you couldn’t find that familiar blonde hair poking out from under the issued cap.  Each row that passed had you slinking further into yourself, the truth bringing that all-to-familiar tug at your heart.  

“‘Samu, give me that!  You’re just being an ass, come on!” 

“If you want it so badly, come get it.”

“How?!”

The tears flowed down your cheeks for a whole new reason.  At the very end of the ranks, a group of men were clustered together.  They all fared worse than the others.  Some were missing limbs, most were just covered in bandages, deep stains of red contrasting against the stark white.  Bringing up the very rear, a young man bickered with another, desperately reaching for the wooden crutch that was being held just out of reach.  

“Atsumu!”

That beautiful sound was the only thing he wanted to hear.  His name from your lips.  It had his heart racing and a wide toothy grin spanning across his features.  The gunshot wound on his thigh throbbed with each crutch-less limp in your direction, but he didn’t even care.  You were running towards him, slowing only enough so that your momentum didn’t take him to the ground.  Arms flung around his neck, his easy laughter being the only sound in your ears.  It felt just so surreal, the soldier finally returning to the arms of his beloved.

“I was so worried about you,” you whisper, burying your head in the shoulder of his uniform.  

“I know, princess.  But they wouldn’t let me write to you or anyone else while I was in the hospital.  If I could have, I would have sent you a hundred letters to remind you just how much I love you.”  Atsumu leans away from you, wincing as he tries to place weight on his injured leg, but despite the pain, he takes your hand in his.  Lazy brown eyes never leave your face as he brings it to his lips, a loving kiss placed to your knuckles.  There’s no denying the happy smile on his face as he lets you caress his cheek.

“I made a promise to you, princess.  And I don’t break my promises,” he starts, reaching up to lay his hand over yours.  “I can’t wait to marry you, princess.”

[maybeimamuppet]

queen of hearts (part 2)

trigger warnings for:

period-typical homophobia

mentioned child/domestic abuse

attempted r*pe/assault

graphic injury

and death!

"Sic semper tyrannis!"

Janis snaps to attention instantly, drawing her sword and pushing Cady behind her roughly, towards the rest of the guards.

"Get behind me, stay with them," She insists.

"No, Janis," Cady pleads, trying to pull Janis away as well.

"Go!" Janis calls, pushing her hands away and rushing up to their attacker before he can get any closer.

Janis takes a brash swing at the terrorist, their swords meeting with a loud metallic clang. She lunges away from a stab, dodging skillfully.

Several other guards rush up to aid her in her fight, but leave Janis to handle the main battle. She knows she should leave this scumbag alive for interrogation, no matter how much she wants to slash his head off for threatening her Princess.

She takes a step closer, trying to get to a position where she can disarm him. He gets to her first, slashing his sword down in a vicious swipe. She feels a burning pain searing in her stomach, looking down and seeing her uniform neatly torn and stained scarlet with her blood, in a long line across her abdomen.

She falls to her knees, ears ringing as she faintly hears a desperate cry of "Janis!" from somewhere behind her. Cady. Love Cady. Keep Cady safe.

She grabs her sword again, and with what little strength she has remaining, thrusts it forward into her foe's lower left abdomen. He cries out in pain and falls back into Janis' backup, immediately handcuffed and led to a carriage to take him to the dungeons. She presses a hand to her gash and hears a pained cry. Her own? Arms suddenly surround her, she's being cradled tightly in a soft embrace.

"Princess," she rasps, Cady's beautiful eyes going in and out of focus above her. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, Jay, don't speak. You're gonna be okay, you'll be fine," Cady sobs, her tears dripping onto Janis' face. "We'll fix you, get you back, you'll be okay."

Janis knows her chances of being okay are slim to none. She's about to die. But there's one thing she's always wanted to do. The crowd around them gasps when she grabs Cady's collar and presses their lips together gently.

Then her world goes black.

-

Cady gasps as Janis kisses her, the softest brush of lips. Janis' are going cold as she's bleeding out in her arms. She has no time to process as Janis collapses, unconscious.

"No, no, no, Janis, wake up, please," Cady begs between sobs. "You have to come back, I can't lose you like this. God, this is my fault, what have I done?"

Janis' eyes flutter briefly and she gives a pained gasp, making Cady think she's woken up again.

But Janis doesn't inhale again afterwards. Her eyes are still open, glassy and staring blankly up at her.

She's not breathing. Cady frantically checks for her pulse. Nothing. She feels herself scream, resting Janis on the ground and pressing roughly on her chest as she calls for her guards to come keep pressure on Janis' injury.

"No, Jay, come on, come back to me, my love," Cady sobs. Her hands are soaked with blood that's not her own. She doesn't care. She's sobbing so hard she can barely see what she's doing. She doesn't care about that, either. "Come on, I can't lose you, you have to come back."

Cady continues her efforts until Janis' eyes flutter again and she inhales sharply. She sobs in relief, making sure Janis has a pulse again before she stops. She does, but it's weak and uneven. Janis is alive, but could die again at any point.

"We have to get her back to the palace, now, or she'll die," Cady commands, standing. "Keep pressure on her wound and get her back in the carriage, as fast as you can. I don't care how fast you have to go, just drive."

"Yes, your highness," her guards say, lifting Janis' limp form and hauling her back to the carriage. Cady crawls in after her and lifts Janis' head onto her lap. She grabs the cloth one of her guards has found, pressing hard on the cut as she strokes Janis' cheeks gently with her other hand.

"I love you. I've loved you from the moment I met you, it's always been you, I'm so sorry," she sobs desperately. "Please wake up, come back to me. I can't go on without you, please."

-

Once they finally pull up to the gates, the palace doctor is already there, waiting with a stretcher. The guards load Janis onto it and rush her through the halls towards the medical wing.

Cady runs after her, refusing to let Janis out of her sight. Her parents suddenly grab her, hugging her tightly and yammering on about how grateful they are that she's okay.

She wriggles out of their grip, much to their dismay. "I'm only alive because of Janis, and she's about to die. I'm not leaving her now. I'll find you once she's stable, I promise. Just let me go to her for now."

She doesn't wait to hear whether she has approval or not before she runs down the hall again. She bursts in just as Janis is being shifted to a bed and prepped for surgery.

"What are you going to do to her?" Cady demands protectively, grabbing Janis' limp hand.

"All we can really do is clean out the wound and stitch her up, your Highness. You should not be present, it is quite graphic. No place for a Princess," the doctor says as he pours alcohol on his hands to sterilize them.

"Fuck you," Cady spits. She feels a little guilty cursing out the man who brought her into the world and helped her every time she got hurt as a child, but she refuses to leave Janis. "My personal guard is dying in front of me, and you want me to leave her alone? I'm the one who's kept her alive long enough to bring her to you, I'm staying. I don't give a shit how graphic it gets, just save her."

The doctor blinks in surprise, but seems to understand the situation and allows her to stay. He hands her the bottle, telling her to use it to sterilize her hands as well.

He places a funnel shaped thing over Janis' face and floods it with a gas that Cady doesn't recognize. He explains that it's anesthesia, to ensure she doesn't wake while they close her wound. Not that there was much chance of that anyway.

He cuts the scraps of Janis' uniform away with scissors, and then wipes away the blood with a sanitized cloth. He takes another to the wound itself and pours several more bottles of alcohol over her whole stomach.

"What is all this alcohol for?" Cady asks as the doctor pulls the cloth away. Oh god, Janis' muscle is exposed. Cady thinks she can even see her ribs.

"To sanitize it, Your Highness. Prevent infection," the doctor responds. "She is lucky, none of her organs were sliced or penetrated. She may buck involuntarily when I start stitching, please hold her hips and chest down."

Cady does, pressing on the side of Janis' torso as he takes a needle and thread, stitching the cuts inside that are on her muscle and fat layers. He was right, Janis' hips buck slightly against her hand, but she doesn't wake.

He works carefully but quickly, pouring still more alcohol over it once he finishes all the internal stitches. The doctor grabs another needle with more thread, pulling Janis' skin back together and stitching up her outsides. Cady tries to count the stitches, losing track after the twentieth.

"What now?" Cady demands.

"Now we sterilize it once again and wrap it in a sanitized cloth. And pray she wakes again." The doctor responds.

"May I? Surely one doesn't need to be a doctor to apply a bandage," Cady says. She just wants to be alone with Janis, finally.

"I suppose, Your Highness," the doctor replies. He hands her the cloth and what remains of the alcohol supply, finally leaving them alone. Cady pours one of the bottles over Janis' stomach, and the other over the cloth, wrapping it gently around her torso until she runs out of material. She leaves her hand there for a second, resting gently on the cut that nearly took her love away.

Once that's done, she spies a basin of water and more cloths by Janis' head. She wets one and heads to a mirror nearby. She looks about ten years older than she did that morning, her eyes haunted and her face caked with blood and dirt. She scrubs roughly at her face and hands, but she can't remove the terrifying memories of the day. She knows that the emptiness in Janis' eyes when they were last open has been permanently seared into her mind.

She grabs the scissors from the table and cuts the rest of Janis' uniform away, before she pulls the blanket over her to protect Janis' modesty and starts tenderly cleaning the blood and dirt from her, scrubbing gently at her face and hands and chest.

Once they're both clean, she tells one of the guards waiting outside to fetch two nightgowns from her room, and let her parents know she'll be there to speak with them soon. He bows and rushes off but quickly comes back with her two softest gowns.

She thanks him and heads back in as she changes into the second best one. She looks at Janis, wondering how to do this without moving her. The only way is to cut open the gown. She has plenty of nightgowns, and the seamstresses can make her a new one anytime. Janis needs it. She cuts a slit up the back, then rests it over Janis and tugs her arms through so she's wearing it as best she can.

Janis is still breathing so shallowly. Cady bends down to kiss her again, anxious at the still-cold temperature of her lips. She's starting to realize it's entirely possible that, even with the surgery, Janis may still die.

"Please come back, my love. Wake up, please. I can't lose you, don't make me lose you. I miss the shine in your eyes, the sound of your voice," Cady whispers between sobs, sitting on Janis' bedside and holding her limp hand. "I miss being held in your strong arms. Please, wake up. Whenever you feel ready. Just come back to me soon. I can't live without you."

She sits for a while, stroking Janis' hair, until she realizes she promised her parents she would speak to them once Janis was stable. Cady squeezes her hand and pecks her cheek once more before she goes, commanding Kevin, a guard she knows well and can trust, to look after Janis.

"Check her pulse regularly, here," Cady demonstrates, showing him where to feel Janis' neck. "If it stops at any point or she stops breathing, press hard on the middle of her chest repetitively and call for the doctor. I'll be back after I speak with my parents."

"Yes, Your Highness," Kevin responds, watching Janis vigilantly.

Cady runs down the halls towards the throne room, barreling into her parents arms once she arrives.

"Cadence, what happened today?"

"A terrorist," Cady spits. "He said something in Latin, I don't remember what, and then tried to attack me. Janis is the only reason I'm alive. She pushed me to safety and fought him off. She deserves to be rewarded, once she wakes. She saved me, saved the kingdom."

"How is Janis?" Her father asks gently. "Is she stable?"

"For now. She lost a lot of blood, she still might not make it," Cady mumbles. "I want that man gutted, once he's been interrogated. If Janis dies because of him I'll do it myself."

"Calm down, Cadence," Her mother chides. "Your behavior today is not befitting of royalty."

Cady pulls back, glaring at her. "I almost died! Janis did die! And she might again! I don't care if my behavior isn't befitting, I saved her life!"

"And we're glad you're both okay, dearest, but-"

"No! You've never cared for me as a person, as your child, all you care about is me as the heir to Evanston. I'm fucking sick of it," Cady insists. "Have my dinner and a cot sent to Janis' room, I'm staying with her."

"Cadence, that's really not appropriate-"

"I don't care! I don't give a shit. I love her, more than any of this. She's shown me more love in the last few months than anyone else has in my entire fucking life. She's shown me how good the world can be, she's given me a reason to stay. I'm staying with her," Cady says, crying again. "Goodnight. I love you both." And with that, she turns and runs back to her love.

-

Cady doesn't see her parents for nearly a week. She's by Janis' side every minute of every day, having her meals delivered and sleeping on the uncomfortable cot she's been brought. She doesn't complain. She cleans Janis with cloths daily, reads her stories to keep her mind active, shifts her around gently so she doesn't get sores. The closest she gets to her daily walk through the gardens is opening the window and explaining the different birds to Janis.

A few days into Janis' recovery, a boy around their age shows up and demands to see her.

"Your Highness, I mean no disrespect, but Janis is practically my sister, and if there's a chance she's going to die I demand to see her," he says hastily. Cady recognizes him as one of the seamsters.

"What is your name, before I let you see her?" Cady insists.

"I'm Damian Hubbard, Your Highness," he says. "Now please."

"Come in. I know who you are now. Janis speaks highly of you," Cady says softly, going back to her side.

"God, Janis," He gasps sadly upon seeing her. "You reckless idiot, I never should have let you take this position."

"Please don't blame yourself, Damian. I- this is all my fault. I should never have asked to go into town, I made myself vulnerable. It should have been me," Cady replies, trying to hold back her tears in front of a practical stranger.

"You shouldn't blame yourself either, Your Highness. Janis was doing her job, she swore to protect you with her life. She speaks highly of you as well," Damian replies comfortingly from Janis' other side.

"She does?" Cady asks with a sniffle.

"God, yes. Never stops," Damian grumbles jokingly. The situation is dire, but his mere presence somehow makes her feel better. Cady can see why he's Janis' best friend. "Your Highness, really, she wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"You don't have to use my title. We're alone, there's no need. Call me Cady," she says. "May not have the title too much longer, anyway." She adds in a mumble.

"Why not, if I may ask, Cady?" Damian asks gently.

Cady strokes a gentle hand over Janis' cheek. "Because... because I love her. If-when she wakes, I'm going to ask for her hand. I may lose my right to the throne at that point. I've worked for this all my life, and yet I care about nothing less."

"You love her that much?" Damian asks in awe.

"I do. She's-she's the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me. Janis is the only person who ever treated me like... like a person, instead of the Princess. Right when we met, she spoke to me like I was a friend," Cady says softly, tears streaming down her face. "I just wish I had realized I love her when she could hear me say it. Before I-before we lost her."

"She's not dead, Cady. She may be able to hear you," Damian says. "I've known Jan since we were thirteen, she's the strongest person I know. She'll pull through."

Cady and Damian continue chatting about Janis and their own lives well into the evening. They share a dinner, until Damian has to leave. Cady is comforted by his promise to return the next morning.

-

Janis falls ill that night. Cady wakes to find her breathing impossibly shallowly, her skin waxy and pale. She's burning with fever and clammy to the touch.

Cady has a sinking suspicion she knows what's happened. Sure enough, when she pulls the nightgown to the side and her dressing off, Janis' wound is visibly infected. They'll be lucky if Janis doesn't get sepsis.

"No, no, no," Cady says desperately. Janis had finally been showing signs of stirring. Cady had sworn she'd squeezed her hand yesterday. This may kill Janis again. "No. You'll be okay. I'll-I can fix this. You'll come back to me soon, Jay. Fuck, you have to come back."

She commands Kevin to watch her again, running as fast as she can to the kitchens. She nearly barrels Damian down on the way, until he grabs her shoulders to steady her.

"Cady, what happened? Is Janis okay?" He asks with wide eyes.

"No, her cut is infected, she's ill. She might-she might die, again," Cady says quickly, wiggling to be let go.

"What do you need? I'll help," Damian says, letting her go and running after her into the kitchens.

"Honey, light alcohol, and every cold thing they have in the kitchen," Cady huffs, picking up speed.

The cook looks rather startled when the Princess and a servant come barreling in and start rooting through everything. Cady grabs a few jars of honey and bottles of alcohol. Damian raids the ice box, finding some frozen vegetables and scraping some ice off the sides. He grabs a couple of pastries, too.

"Thank you!" Cady calls over her shoulder as they run back to the medical wing. The cook just blinks in surprise and heads back to making the day's meal.

Damian follows her as they burst into Janis' room, resting their supplies on a cart.

"Soak these in water and then the alcohol," Cady demands, handing him a pile of cloth as she checks to make sure Janis is still breathing. "Thank you, Kevin, you're excused."

"Do you know every guard's name?" Damian asks as he dips them in the basin of water and then pours the alcohol over them.

"Most. I make an effort to learn the names of every servant and guard, since my parents never really bothered," Cady replies as she takes the cloths and swipes them over the infected wound.

"That's kind of you. Is she-is it bad?" Damian asks nervously.

"Very. It's bright red and weeping slightly. If the infection gets in her bloodstream she'll almost definitely die. Honey, please," Cady says, holding a hand for one of the jars. "She might anyway. All we can do is sanitize it and bring her fever down, and hope she comes back."

Janis is very weak. She hasn't been conscious to take in any fluids or food; she's losing weight very rapidly. Cady is starting to lose hope.

"What does the honey do?" Damian asks curiously as she pours it over the wound.

"Provides a barrier, keeps anything else from getting in, and will help fight anything already in," Cady replies as she bandages the wound again. "Now we put these cold compresses around to help bring her fever down."

"Cady?" Damian asks suddenly as he rests one on Janis' forehead.

"Yes?" She replies from where she's resting some on her feet.

"She's awake."

"She what?! Jay," she sobs, rushing to her side. Her eyes are only half open, but it's the most action they've seen from her in several days. "Can you squeeze my hand?"

Janis does as best she can, which is very weak, but Cady still sobs happily. Janis slips unconscious again after she does, her hand going limp again. Cady double checks; Janis still has a pulse.

"Okay, that was a very good sign," She sighs, brushing the tears from under her eyes. "Put those under her arms, please."

"Do you think she'll wake again?" Damian asks once Janis is covered in compresses.

"I'm not sure. It depends on how the infection progresses. All we can do now is hope," Cady says as she takes one of the pastries. "Oh, shoot."

Damian looks up abruptly. "What's the matter?"

"I forgot to get a new book from the library. I've been reading to her, in case she can hear me. Keep her mind active," Cady replies. "I finished the one we've been working on yesterday."

"I'll go get one, if I'm allowed," Damian replies.

"Would you? Here, take this one back. Thank you, Damian," Cady says with relief.

"You're welcome. Anything for Janis. And the Princess," he replies, taking his leave.

Cady sits on Janis' bedside, kissing her cheek gently. "You woke up, my love. I hope you do it again. I can't lose you. We're going to take care of you, we'll make you better. Please don't leave me."

She snaps her head up when she hears someone come in. Damian hasn't been gone long enough, it's somebody else.

"Hello, Cadence," her mother mumbles sheepishly.

"Hello, mother," Cady replies coolly. "What are you doing here?"

"Your father and I haven't seen you in days, Cadence. And we did not end our last conversation on a great note," her mother says. "I wished to check on you. How is Janis?"

"I have no idea. Her wound is badly infected, but she woke earlier. I'll have to wait and see," Cady says sadly.

"Did you use honey?" Her mother asks.

"Of course."

"Good girl. I brought some herbs, they'll help with her pain when she wakes again and reduce her fever."

"Thank you."

"Of course," the Queen says. "Cadence, I think it's time I told you some things. I realized the last time we spoke I should have told you a long time ago."

"Okay," Cady replies suspiciously.

"To begin, I would like to apologize. You are right, I have treated you as an heir rather than just a daughter. That was wrong of me, I am sorry," her mother says. She takes a deep breath before continuing. "You had a brother. Long before you were born."

"A brother?"

"Yes. He passed away from an infection when he was four. I was... consumed by grief. I removed all portraits of him, anything that reminded me of him. They're all in the East Wing," her mother sighs. Cady can see tears brimming in her eyes. Cady had never been allowed in the East Wing. Now she knows why. "We were so relieved when we found out we were expecting you. We had a new child, the kingdom had an heir again. You were such a blessing."

Cady takes her hand, but doesn't say anything.

"I spent years researching first aid and medicine, so I could save you if something similar happened. That's why I taught you everything, as well. But you, blessedly, survived your childhood. So we had to turn you into the Princess. Into the heir. I regret that decision more than anything. You deserved to be a child. You still do. You deserve a life outside of being royal."

"I don't want it, anymore. The day I broke a rule, this happened," Cady says dangerously, looking back to her love. "I lost her."

"That's my next point, Cadence. When we last spoke, you said you love Janis, more than any of this. Is that true?"

Cady squeezes Janis' hand for confidence. "Yes. I understand it will not be accepted. When she wakes I plan to ask for her hand. If she dies or refuses my proposal, I will carry out my duties as heir. But if she accepts, I will abdicate and leave."

"Abdicate? Whatever for?" Her mother asks in shock.

"Because... we are both women? I would be a criminal, if we were to marry. My right to the throne would be nullified anyway. Emma can have it, she would be the next in line."

"A criminal? Where did you hear this, Cadence?"

"I read it during one of my lessons. Homosexuality is illegal in Evanston. Great-great grandfather Lionel put it forth," Cady replies. "Due to my status I likely would be able to avoid arrest, and would be exiled instead. I'm fine with that."

"Hm. May I tell you another tale?" Her mother asks, squeezing her hand. Cady nods. "Do you know how your father and I met?"

"No, you've never told me. Surely he had a festival, like the one we tried?" Cady asks, tilting her head.

The Queen shakes her head. "I am not of royal blood, Cadence."

"You what?"

"It's true. I lived in the village as a girl. My parents passed away when I was a teenager, so I took up work in a bakery. Your father was on a tour one day and stopped by. He's always said he fell in love with my croissants first," her mother chuckles. "But it was forbidden for us to be together, as well."

Cady is stunned. "What did you do?"

"Your father insisted your grandfather change the law, or threatened to leave as well," her mother says. "He was the only heir, so your grandfather obliged him. Now it is legal for commoners to marry royalty if approved by the council."

"Oh." Cady says. "Oh!"

"There you go, Cadence. Your father is in his study," her mother says, patting her as she dashes away.

"Wait, can you keep an eye on her, please?" Cady backtracks. "And if a servant boy named Damian comes back, let him in. He's a friend."

"Yes, Cadence, go on now," the Queen chuckles.

Damian enters just as she leaves, just barely missing each other. "Cady, I'm back. I- Your Majesty! My apologies." He stumbles to kneel, bowing his head in shame.

"I'm assuming you are Damian?"

Damian briefly looks up in shock. "Um, yes, Your Majesty."

"Cadence tells me you are a friend. Please stand, there's no need to bow," the Queen says. "Now tell me more about Janis, I understand you've been friends for a while."

-

"Daddy!" Cady calls loudly as she throws open the doors to his study.

"Cadence? What's the matter? Is Janis alright?" Her father asks once he's recovered from the shock of her sudden entrance.

"She's... it's complicated, I'll explain in a second," Cady pants, stomping up to his desk. "First, I demand you put forth a law to council, to make homosexuality legal. Or I will abdicate and leave the kingdom."

Her father chuckles and pulls her into a hug. "Your mother finally talked to you, eh? I've been waiting for you. It's all written up."

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you!" She throws her arms around him.

"Of course, darling. You'll have to propose it to council yourself, however. My father made me do the same."

"What if they say no?" Cady asks worriedly. Council has never been terribly willing to listen to her.

"They won't. You'll write a speech that will make them say yes, if you're that serious about this girl. I know you will. Get back to her now. Let Sharon know if anyone needs anything." The King says.

"Okay. Thanks, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, Cadence."

-

Cady comes back to sheer pandemonium. Janis, evidently, has woken again. She's screaming, calling for her mother, her father. For Cady.

Her mother and Damian are trying to hold her still as she thrashes around on the bed, begging for the pain and burning of the fever to stop.

"What the hell happened?! Janis," Cady cries in horror, rushing to her side.

"We don't know, your mother and I were talking and then she just started screaming. She won't hold still, she's going to rip her stitches," Damian says frantically.

"Janis! Look at me," Cady demands, grabbing Janis' face and forcing her to look at her. Her eyes are wide and frantic, but she calms upon seeing her.

"Cady," she croaks.

"Yeah, my love, it's me. I'm here," Cady says with a choked sob.

"Make it stop," Janis begs. "Please."

Cady knows she can't do much for her, which breaks her heart. "Okay, love, I'll make it stop hurting, but you have to hold still. I know it hurts, but you'll make it worse thrashing like that."

Her mother is frantically grinding herbs, to neutralize the pain and put her back to sleep. She adds some hot water to make it into a tea, resting it in Cady's hands.

"Drink this, love, it'll make the pain stop. You're going to be okay, I promise," Cady says, helping Janis to drink her medicine.

Janis does, resting back on the pillows again once she finishes. "Cady."

"I'm right here, my love, you need to rest," Cady comforts. "I'll be here the whole time, you're okay."

"Keep her safe," Janis whispers before she finally slips unconscious again. Cady breaks into heavy sobs, bent over double with the force of it. Damian and her mother wrap her in a tight hug.

-

Janis spends a majority of the next weeks unconscious. She wakes for a few minutes every day, mind addled with fever and screaming in pain. Sometimes she recognizes Cady, sometimes she doesn't.

Cady pretends to be whoever Janis is calling for, and takes the opportunity to feed Janis broths and water, before she fills her with herbs again and Janis slips away.

Cady is terrified each time. Every time Janis wakes could be the last.

After almost a month and a half of near torture, Janis' fever finally breaks. Cady doesn't notice, deep asleep in a chair next to her with her head slumped over on her bedside.

-

Janis blinks her eyes open slowly. There's a burning sensation over her stomach, and a strange tingling in her legs. She groans with exhaustion, lifting her head to see where she is. What the hell happened? Am I in a nightgown?

Janis lifts the fabric curiously. She is, she's wearing a soft gown that's a few sizes too small, with a slit cut up the back so it's resting over her like a blanket. There's a weight on one side.

Janis looks and sees Cady, sitting in a chair by her side and slumped over onto her bed. Janis lifts her arm with a great deal of effort, stroking a hand through her hair gently.

Cady's eyes flutter open slowly, before she remembers where she is and sits bolt upright, looking around frantically. "Janis! Jay."

"Hi," Janis chuckles, wincing in pain when she does. "You look like hell."

Cady looks at her in shock, clapping her hands over her mouth as she chokes out a sob of relief. She pins Janis back to the bed, locking their lips together passionately, kissing her hard.

Janis' eyes fly open in shock as she gasps. Cady tastes like the sweetest tea, an elixir of life. She doesn't want to taste anything else again. But she could probably do without the taste of her tears.

Cady pulls back abruptly and apologizes frantically. "I-Janis, I'm-I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-I mean, you- but you were-and then you-" before she dissolves into broken sobs.

"Hey, Princess, shh," Janis comforts. "Come here." Cady cuddles into her gently as she weeps into her shoulder. "I'm okay, it's okay."

"But you weren't! For-for so long," Cady says desperately. "What do you remember?"

"Um... we were in town. And then-oh." Janis realizes. "I was wounded. How-how long has it been? What happened?"

"Look at your stomach," Cady insists. Janis does, yelping and slapping the blanket back down when she sees the gash that goes across it that's been neatly stitched and covered in... honey? And vodka? "It was a terrorist attack. You saved my life, but he got to you first. You die-you-you died in my arms. I had to-to revive you."

"God. I'm so sorry, Princess," Janis breathes. She had died. In Cady's arms. "Were you hurt?"

"No. You wounded him enough that the other guards could arrest him. He's in the dungeons, they're working on the interrogation. He'll likely be executed," Cady answers with a sniffle. "You're a hero. You saved me."

"I swore I'd protect you with my life," Janis responds. "How long has it been since that day?"

"About a month, I think. I'm not sure," Cady replies, holding her so tightly but also being mindful of her injury. "You-you were... it's a miracle you're alive. The doctor closed your wound, but it was infected. You were so ill, the fever almost killed you again. You would wake up screaming, just b-begging me to make your pain stop, and-and I couldn't do anything." She breaks into sobs again.

"Shh, Cady. Clearly you did something. I'm awake, no fever. And I feel... fine, all things considered," Janis replies. "Were you here with me the whole time?"

Cady nods. "I didn't trust anyone else to know what to do with you, to take good enough care of you. I couldn't leave. I-I love you. I'm in love with you."

Janis had sort of gathered that from Cady's reaction to her being awake. "I'm in love with you too, Princess. I love you so much."

Cady sobs with relief again. "Janis, I want you to retire. I can't lose you again. You almost died before I realized I love you, I don't-I can't go through this again, now that I know. It's too dangerous."

"What else am I supposed to be?" Janis asks. She understands Cady's position, but she's been a soldier for years. It's all she knows. Cady sits up and cups her face, leaning in to kiss her again, gently this time.

"My wife," Cady chuckles. "If you'll have me."

Janis sits bolt upright, hissing in pain. Oops. "Your what?"

"My wife. I've always wished to marry for love. I had resigned myself to marrying for the crown, being forced to marry someone I do not love. But I found you; I love you. Marry me," Cady begs. "You'll be so much more helpful than anyone of royal blood could be."

"But-but won't you lose your title? You've worked your whole life to become Queen, I won't let that all be for naught," Janis insists as Cady props her up gently with pillows so she can sit.

"It won't be. My father has written a proposal to legalize marriage between people of the same sex. I am to write a speech to convince council to pass it. I write well, it will be passed," Cady says with false confidence. "And if it is not, I'll abdicate and leave the throne to my cousin. All I need is you. Living without you for a single month is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And you know I've never cared for my status."

"I- should we not court one another first? Are you sure?" Janis asks with concern.

"If that is what you wish," Cady deflates slightly. "If you need time to know this is what you desire. I would marry you tomorrow, if I were able."

"No, Princess. I need no time. I've loved you since I met you. Yes, I will marry you," Janis replies. "Just not tomorrow."

Cady chuckles, and leans in for another sweet kiss. "I was just making an expression, my love. We'll wait until you're well again. You have some reading to do, anyway."

"Reading?" Janis asks confusedly. "What for?"

"You'll be ruling with me someday, Jay. You'll be Queen as well," Cady reminds her. "Unless you do not wish to, I would understand. It's a large responsibility."

"I would be Queen," Janis repeats absently. "Oh, god."

"Breathe, my love, it's okay. We'll train you on everything you need to know, my father will hire advisors and tutors for you. You'll be prepared, if you do choose to become Queen," Cady comforts. "And you don't have to decide today."

"What would I become if I chose not to be Queen with you?" Janis asks.

"Princess Consort, probably," Cady responds. "You wouldn't have much in the way of real power, it's sort of an empty title. But if it would make you more comfortable, we'll do it. Whatever you choose."

"Okay," Janis breathes. "I will think on it. But I have a proposal for you as well, Princess."

Cady looks at her oddly. "Okay, what is it?"

"I want you to learn how to defend yourself," Janis says. "I'll get Ron to train you, and help you myself once I'm able again. But we came too close to catastrophe. There's always a chance a guard won't be around to save you. You should know how to fight for yourself."

"Okay," Cady says anxiously. "You make a good point. I'll speak to my parents."

"What do they have to say about all of this?" Janis asks curiously.

"They've been very supportive, actually. I was surprised, I was expecting to be banished," Cady says. "But my father is helping me make our relationship legal, and my mother has actually done a lot in getting you well again. She brought me things for you, and spent time down here so I wouldn't get lonely. She and Damian have gotten quite close."

"You finally met Damian, hm?" Janis asks. "I'm glad you weren't alone with me. I can't have been great company."

"You were fine, my love. I got to read all sorts of stories to you, tell you about the creatures outside your window. But Damian is so lovely, he's an absolute joy," Cady says.

"Aw, thanks," Damian says as he enters the room, not realizing Cady is speaking to a lucid Janis. He gasps when he sees her awake and back to relative normalcy. "Janis! You're okay!"

Janis reaches for him, and he runs over to hug her while being careful of her injury. "Yeah, I'm back. Aww, Dame, don't cry, I'm fine."

"Sorry," Damian sniffles. "I just... I hate to say it, but I was starting to lose hope. I'm just so glad to see you again."

"Was it that bad?" Janis asks. "Cady did say it was a miracle, but..."

"Jan, I had to hold you down as you screamed for your mother and father because of that fever so you wouldn't rip your stitches and hurt yourself worse," Damian sniffs. "Cady's right, it's a miracle you're here."

Janis is leveled by the fact she called for her parents. She's not seen them in years. "I'm sorry, D. I'm better now, we can raid the kitchens together again."

Damian chuckles. "Good. I want to catch up more later, but I have some new nightgowns to make for a certain someone." He glares jokingly at Cady.

"She needed clothes!" Cady defends. "Get out of here, dork, we'll come find you later."

"Okay," Damian laughs. "Love you both." Janis blows him kisses and Cady waves goodbye.

"Well, Jay, what do you want to do now that you're back in the land of the living?" Cady asks with a squeeze of Janis' hand.

"Take a bath," Janis says. "But first..."

"First what?"

Janis pulls her into another kiss. "I've waited so long to do that. I want a lot more, if you're amenable."

"I certainly am," Cady giggles, leaning to kiss her again. "You'll get plenty, we have a month to make up for. Let's go get you clean."

She leaves Janis in bed to go have a servant draw a bath in one of the best bathrooms in the palace. It's not quite the nicest, but since Janis can't go upstairs yet it's the best Cady can do for now.

She returns with the doctor so Janis' stitches can be removed first. Cady holds her hand and distracts her from the large scissors being taken to her gut with cute stories about what she and Damian got up to while she was unconscious.

"Thank you, sir," Janis says to the doctor when he finishes and heads to leave. He nods back, bowing in respect. Janis realizes she'll have to get used to people doing that.

"Alright, my love, everything's ready," Cady says. "Do you think you can stand or should I get a wheelchair?"

Janis doesn't want to be seen as weak. Her whole identity revolves around her strength. "I'm fine, Princess, I'll walk." Cady removes her blankets and gently pulls her upright. Janis feels like she's been kicked in the stomach by a horse.

Cady holds under her shoulders and pulls her to stand. Janis feels steady, but the second she tries to take a step forward her knees buckle under her and she falls into Cady's arms.

"Whoa! Easy," Cady yelps, guiding her to sit again. Janis sighs heavily, looking to the ground. "Hey, love, it's okay. The doctor said this would probably happen, we'll work on getting your strength back up. I'll help you."

"How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even walk?" Janis growls. "I'm useless now, look at me."

"Hey! Don't talk like that," Cady demands, cupping her face to look into her eyes. "Your job isn't to protect me anymore. Your job is to love me, and care for me. And I know you don't have to walk to do that. You're allowed to be weak. I know it's frustrating, but this isn't permanent. It's my turn to take care of you for a while, and you're going to let it happen or so help me I will put you back in this bed myself."

Janis nods sheepishly. "Okay. I love you."

"There we go, that's more like it," Cady smiles, leaning in to peck her sweetly. "I love you too. Wait here."

Cady comes back with a wheelchair, lifting Janis into it gently. "There. Comfy?" Janis just pouts. "Janis, you've been unconscious for a month. You haven't even had solid food in that long. It's gonna take time, but I'm here for you. We're gonna be okay."

"It's not that, I'm sorry," Janis mumbles. "I just realized I must've ruined your birthday."

Cady grins sadly. "I'll have others. If you hadn't done what you did, that might not be the case. I'm just so glad you're back, my love. That's all I wanted. Now come on, or your bath is going to be cold by the time

we get you in it."

Janis has just enough strength to push herself down the corridor with Cady walking next to her. Cady holds the door open for her.

"Should I leave?" Cady asks.

"No, you can stay. Just... uhm... turn around for a moment?" Janis replies, preparing to shift herself into the tub. Cady turns around and covers her eyes, so Janis pushes herself up with a great deal of effort and plops herself in, then removes the gown and covers herself with bubbles. "There, you can turn back now."

Cady turns back around and sits in the now-empty wheelchair next to her. "Ooh, this is fun."

Janis grins happily as she pushes herself in little circles around the room. "You're cute."

"Thanks," Cady giggles. "I try."

Janis has a cloth and bar of soap, so she uses them to clean herself gently, scrubbing away what remains after a month straight in bed. She's lucky her hair was braided when she was wounded. Cady hadn't been able to figure out a way to brush her hair safely, so it would've been a tangled mess otherwise.

Janis removes the leather cord and jumps as Cady crashes into the wall. "Princess, we just got out of the medical wing, I'm not anxious to go back."

"Oops," Cady says sheepishly. She gets out of the chair and sits on the ground by the tub instead. "Your hair is so pretty."

"Mine? Have you seen yours?" Janis responds as she weaves her fingers in to separate the dirty strands of tangled hair. "It was the first thing I noticed about you."

"Really?" Cady asks.

"Yeah. I mean, you weren't looking at me when I first saw you, but it was that and your eyes. And your freckles," Janis says as she rinses the dirt out. Cady helps her to sit back up once she does, since her core is still exceptionally weak.

"I noticed your eyes first too," Cady says quietly. She looks down then and bites her lip. Janis obviously notices and reaches for one of her hands, dripping slightly on Cady's lap.

"What's the matter?" She asks gently as Cady takes hold of her hand.

"Nothing. It's just, when you...um..." she trails off. Janis can connect the dots well enough. "Your eyes were open. I can't stop seeing that. Whenever I close my own. It's... haunting."

"I'm so sorry, Princess," Janis says quietly. "Thank you for saving me, by the way."

"I couldn't... I couldn't just leave you there, I had to do something. I'm lucky I knew what to do in the first place," Cady sniffs. "I'm so glad you're alive."

"Believe me, I am too," Janis jokes. "Please don't be sad, I'm back. I won't leave your side again."

Cady grins slightly at her. "You'd better not. Finish your bath, you need to eat as well. Get your strength back."

Janis does, letting go of her hand and finishing cleaning herself off as fast as she can. Cady hands her some impossibly soft towels and a robe to cover herself with temporarily, then turns so Janis can have some privacy.

Janis quickly realizes she can't get up on her own, she's not strong enough to push herself back up. "Um... can you help me out? You'll see me nude at some point, most probably, it might as well be now."

Cady giggles and comes to help lift her out, resting her on one of the towels in her chair and draining the tub. Janis dries herself, and Cady helps her to brace against the wall so she can tie on the robe.

"I should fetch you some clothes, do you have anything in particular you would like to wear?" Cady asks as Janis sits back down and wraps a towel around her head.

"Shouldn't I wear my uniform? I haven't resigned from the guard quite yet," Janis says in confusion.

"Um... you don't have a uniform anymore. For a few reasons," Cady replies. "Your personal one was ruined in... the incident. And we're in the midst of designing new ones, every guard will wear chest armor and a helmet now regardless of where they serve. So it doesn't happen again."

"Oh. That's good," Janis says. "In that case, you can just pick any old things from my trunk, they're all decent, I suppose."

"Okay. Damian will want to see you, I'll meet you there? Can you get there on your own?" Cady asks, holding the door again so Janis can get out.

"Yeah. Thank you, Princess," Janis says as she inches her way down the corridor.

"Hold it! Come back here, you forgot something," Cady demands in her 'royalty voice'. Janis freezes and rolls herself backwards.

"What? I have everything," Janis says confusedly, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No," Cady grins coyly and bends down to press their lips together. "There. I love you." Janis chuckles.

"I love you too."

-

Janis, Cady, and Damian all spend the evening together. They dine together and chat, filling Janis in on everything she missed while she was out.

Janis and Cady sleep in the same bed for the first time in a long while, and Damian joins them on a cot nearby. He falls asleep almost instantly, leaving the girls alone together.

"Goodnight, Princess," Janis whispers against Cady's lips. "I love you."

"Goodnight, my love," Cady replies. "I love you so much."

They fall asleep wrapped contently in each other, Damian snoring away in the corner. Janis dreams for the first time in a while. She's riding Pancakes with Cady, hearing her laughter and feeling her cling tightly to her. It's the most peace Janis has felt in a long time.

Until Cady suddenly sits bolt upright with a scream next to her and muffles sobs into her hand. Janis rubs her eyes blearily, and squints at the clock in the corner. It's just past three in the morning.

"Princess, what happened?" Janis whispers, reaching to pull Cady into a hug. Cady jumps when she touches her, but throws her arms around her neck and cries into her shoulder. Damian wakes up as well, sitting by the girls on the bed and gently rubbing Cady's back. "Shh, come here, what is it?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry," Cady whimpers.

"It's clearly not nothing, Sunshine, come here," Janis whispers.

"It was... just a dream," Cady chokes. "It... it happened again, but I couldn't-I couldn't get you back. And it was-it was Shane, who did it. I had to-had to watch."

Janis had nearly forgotten about Cady's other major trauma. It makes sense they'd both appear in her nightmares. Janis hushes her sadly.

"Oh, Princess, shh, come here," Janis whispers. "That asshole is long gone, and you brought me back. I'm here, Sunshine, everything's okay."

"I'm sorry," Cady sobs. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"If you're this upset, we want you to," Damian says gently. "Janis is fine, nobody can hurt any of us. You guys should go back to sleep."

"Stay, Damian, please?" Cady sniffles. "I'll feel better with both of you here."

"Sure," Damian says. Janis lays them down and holds Cady to her chest while Damian goes to grab his pillow and blanket. He tucks them all in and cuddles into Cady so she's nestled in between them. She's still weeping gently, but her sobs are slowing.

"Listen to my heartbeat, Sunshine. It beats for you," Janis mumbles as she kisses her forehead. "I'm here."

They fall back asleep like that, all three of them holding and comforting one another.

————-

The next morning, the King and Queen request that Janis join the family at breakfast. Janis dons her nicest casual clothes and allows Cady to brush and style her hair for her.

"Do I need to do anything special?" Janis asks anxiously. "They never taught me dining etiquette, what if I do something wrong?"

"Janis, it's just a meal," Cady says gently as she braids the top half of her hair into a crown and pins it at the back of her head. "Just eat the food and speak to them. They probably just want to fill you in and start preparing you for your studies, things of that sort. You'll be fine."

"Okay," Janis says. "I'm just nervous. I don't think your mother likes me very much."

Cady chuckles. "She's just like that. She certainly likes you well enough now. And my father adores you. He brought all of his work down with him one day while you were healing so he could be with us."

"That's nice of him," Janis replies. Cady holds up a mirror so Janis can see her hairdo. "This is nice. Not in my face but still fancy looking."

"You look dashing," Cady says, bending down behind her to kiss her cheek. "Now come along, we're late."

-

Cady holds the large double doors open for Janis and follows her in. "Good morning mother, good morning father."

Janis knows just enough about royalty to be confused by the table set up. The King is at the head of the table and the Queen is at his right side, that's all correct. But by his left hand, where the King's third in command is supposed to sit, there's no chair. It's clearly reserved for Janis. Cady sits in the chair next to her mother, but she's supposed to be in Janis' spot.

"Is something the matter, Janis?" The King asks politely when she doesn't move. Janis looks up at him in shock.

"Um... am I supposed to be there, Your Majesty?" Janis asks, pointing to the spot.

"Yes, you are," The King replies. "For today, at the very least. We wish to thank you for what you've done, to save Cadence as well as the future of this kingdom."

Janis blushes as she makes her way over. "I was just doing my job, Your Majesty. You hired me to keep her safe."

"This is true, but we did not hire you to willingly put yourself in harms way to protect her when someone else could have taken that on," The Queen pipes up. "You performed a truly heroic act, that day. Everyone is grateful to you."

"And you did more than stop just one terrorist, isn't that right, father?" Cady adds. Janis looks between them in confusion.

"Yes, indeed," The King replies. "The man you faced that day was the first of a number of others. He's part of a group of anti-monarchical terrorists from out of the country. They're cropping up more and more in other kingdoms. Because of you, we now have valuable intelligence about the other members. Duvall is putting a team together to handle them all."

Janis is leveled. She had only followed her instincts. Nothing mattered in that moment other than protecting the Princess. "Um... I'm not sure what to say. May I ask what is to be done with the man I faced?"

"We thought it best to let you decide," The Queen answers. "If you choose to rule alongside our dear Cadence, you'll be forced to make several tough decisions. This will be a good first step, if you would like to follow through with it."

"Am I allowed to speak with him?" Janis asks.

"Absolutely not," Cady insists, suddenly looking up from her plate.

"Cadence," her mother says quietly.

"No! He killed you, Jay! I won't let you face that villain again," Cady says frantically.

Janis looks nervously to the other royals. "May I have a moment with her, please?"

"Of course. Cadence, behave," the King chides. Janis rolls herself just out the door, and Cady follows quickly.

"Janis, what the hell are you thinking? You want to speak to the man who-who nearly put you in your grave?" Cady says quickly as she paces in front of the door. "I won't allow it."

"Do I not deserve that closure?" Janis asks quietly, stopping Cady in her tracks. "I understand that you're frightened, but if I have the opportunity to, I must. And he can't hurt me again. If he's in the dungeons, he has no access to weapons. He won't even be able to reach me around the bars, he's in a cell. If this is to be my first decision as royalty, I want it to be an informed one."

Cady looks at her. "I just don't want you hurt again. What if seeing him triggers something in you? Or what if he's got something hidden and attacks you again?"

"Come here," Janis says, reaching for her. Cady shuffles over and sits on her lap gently. "What if I take Ron with me? I'll get him to search the man and his whole cell, and he can stay with me while I speak with him. If something happens he can remove me right away."

"I suppose," Cady grumbles. "Ron and someone else, as well. I want a minimum of two guards with you."

"Whatever you want, Princess," Janis replies. Cady rests her head on her shoulder and sighs against her neck.

"Are you angry with me?" She mumbles.

"Of course not," Janis replies. "It's understandable for you to be protective, Sunshine. I'm not looking forward to it, but I need... I need answers."

"And what if you don't get them? What if he won't speak with you?" Cady asks.

"Then I'll have learned my lesson about expecting criminals to converse with me and live my life not knowing why he tried to kill the love of my life. I'll move on, be happy with you," Janis says. "It'll take time, we both have a lot of trauma. But this would help me deal with mine."

"If it's that important to you, I suppose I have no choice but to let you," Cady mumbles. "But I'm not pleased about it."

Janis chuckles. "I didn't think you would be. Do you have anything else you'd like to argue with me about or can we go have breakfast?"

Cady swats her shoulder gently. "I wasn't arguing. Let's go back in."

"You were so arguing, Princess," Janis teases. "Go on."

Cady sheepishly returns to her spot, and Janis does the same. The King grins at them. "Everything sorted, ladies?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Janis says. "When am I able to speak with him?"

"Whenever you feel that you're ready," the King says gently. "But please don't force yourself into it."

"I won't, Your Majesty, thank you," Janis replies and finally gets to dig into her breakfast of pancakes. She thinks Cady might have something to do with that.

"There's no need for the titles anymore, Janis. You are to be family soon," the Queen says. "I hope."

"Yes, Your-um. What shall I call you, then?" Janis stutters.

"Chip and Betsy will do just fine," the King pipes up after he swallows a mouthful of fruit juice. Janis had never anticipated being on a first-name basis with the King and Queen.

"Okay. But yes, I accepted Cady's proposal," Janis says quietly. "She says we will be married when I am well again."

"Good. Once Cadence has made her proposal to council we'll begin preparations straightaway," the Queen says happily.

Now Janis just has to get better.

————-

The next week, preparations are made for Janis to speak with the man who nearly ended her life for good. Ron, Mike, and Kevin would be accompanying her.

"Princess, I promise I'll be fine," Janis comforts a shaking Cady. "I have the captain of the royal guard and two of his best men with me, and the terrorist will be behind bars the whole time. I'll be back in an hour and then we can move on with our lives and never think about him again, I promise."

Janis makes a big deal about promises. She only makes ones she knows for a fact she can keep. Cady knows this, so the promises that she's going to be okay actually soothe her quite a lot.

"Okay. I love you," Cady mumbles anxiously. "Be safe, please."

"I will be. I have you to come back to," Janis says. "I love you too, Princess."

-

Ron meets her outside Cady's door to help escort her to the dungeons. Janis is actually more nervous than she let on. She knows there's no chance of her being hurt again, but she doesn't know what being face to face with this scoundrel again will do to her mentally.

The stairwell down is thin enough that she can actually walk, bracing herself against each wall and taking impossibly careful steps. Cracking her head on a stone would

be an unfortunate series of events after such a miraculous recovery.

She makes her way over to the thoroughly searched man inside his cell, gratefully taking an offered seat just outside. The three men accompanying her wait at the perfect distance. They're just far enough away that they can't hear their conversation, but close enough to see and hear if something should go awry to save Janis.

He looks much worse for wear than the last time Janis saw him. His face is gaunt and sunken, and he subconsciously holds the area where Janis stabbed him so many weeks ago. He received the same medical care she did, so she knows he must be healed by now.

"Who're you?" The terrorist growls angrily. Janis can tell from his accent that he's not from anywhere even near Evanston.

"Do you not recognize me?" Janis responds politely. "Or do I need to be bleeding out in front of you for that?"

"Ah. The soldier," the man grumbles. "Defending your precious Princess."

"Yes, I was, actually, since that's my job," Janis says.

"'Ow old're you?" The terrorist suddenly asks. He doesn't look remorseful, but Janis can detect a glint of something in his eye.

"Eighteen," Janis replies coolly. "Barely."

"Cripes," he breathes, bending to rest his head in his hands. "Why're you 'ere?"

"I want to know why. Why you did this to me, why you tried to kill the Princess," Janis says quietly. "That's it. I am to decide your fate. I want to make an informed decision."

He looks rather startled to learn that the his fate is to be decided by this young girl that he brutally attacked. "Ask them. I already told everything."

"I want to hear from you. Not them. I'm not deciding whether they all live or die, but I am doing so for you," Janis insists.

"Why? You ain't royal," the man growls.

"Because I am the one you wounded," Janis replies. She nearly tells him that she is about to be royalty, but realizes that has a higher potential of making him biased against her. "The royals have graciously allowed my input."

"Graciously, my arse." the terrorist spits. "Royals ain't never gracious."

Janis is getting nowhere, so decides to change the subject. "Where are you from?"

"Winter River," the man says confusedly. "Wha's it to you?" Janis has heard of that kingdom. They had recently had an uprising of the people following what occurred in Russia, their monarchy was overthrown. The uprising itself was brutal, but now that they were in the process of rebuilding, they were prosperous and peaceful.

"That's a ways away. Why did you come here?" Janis replies, ignoring his question.

"Continue what we started," he says. "Rally the people."

"If that's all you wanted to do, why the attack on the Princess? The people love her, they would never have joined you. Especially if you murdered her on her eighteenth birthday," Janis challenges. "The monarchy in your kingdom was corrupt. You were right to overthrow them. It isn't like that here. Did you not see the peace, the joy of the people on the streets? This is a small kingdom. Even the poorest of people are happy with the way most things are. And Cady will only improve things."

"I didn't know she's so young," the man says. There's the hint of remorse Janis was looking for. "Wasn't s'pposed to get to me. They didn't tell me anythin' about 'er."

"What do you mean, it wasn't supposed to get to you?" Janis asks confusedly.

"We 'ad others at all the stops. Too many other people stuck 'round there. Couldn't follow through. She wasn't s'possed to make it as far as me." He mumbles. That's concerning information.

"Why did you do this if you know nothing about the way things go here? Why try to kill her if you know nothing about her?" Janis asks. She's about to hear what she needs to, she can feel it.

"Vengeance," he spits. There it is. "I wasn' there, when the revolt star'ed back home. They-they took them."

"Who?" Janis asks gently. "What happened?"

"My love. And my boy," the man mumbles. "'E was only thir'een. Wanted to join the revolt. 'E got taken. Arrested. My wife wen' after 'im. Took 'er too. Killed 'em both in front of me."

"I'm so sorry," Janis says. "I lost my family too. I was disowned when I was twelve. I don't know if they're even alive." Janis knows all she needs to, now. This man isn't who she had expected to speak with.

"I'm sorry for you too," the man replies with tears in his eyes. Janis seems to have gotten through to him. "Sorry I put you 'ere, too."

"I've recovered. I'll continue to do so," Janis says. "Goodbye. I wish you the best."

"Good-goodbye," the man stutters.

—————

Cady runs to her when she finally makes her way into the throne room, having been waiting there with her parents.

"I'm fine. I told you everything would be okay," Janis comforts as her fiancée throws her arms around her neck. "No new injuries, nothing set me off."

"Good," Cady breathes. She returns to her throne next to her parents.

"Well, Janis, have you reached a verdict for the villain?" The Queen asks.

"I have. I wish for him to be exiled permanently, and to be thoroughly questioned and searched should he ever make an attempt to return," Janis says, trying to practice speaking as eloquently as she can. "In addition, the guards should be retrained in assessing crowds for threats. He has informed me that he was the last resort, and that other assassins were waiting at every stop. They all decided not to act simply due to the size of the crowds present. We got lucky."

Cady looks aghast at the fact that Janis hasn't ordered his execution. Personally, she wanted vengeance for what happened to Janis. Begrudgingly, she accepts that it is to be Janis' decision, and that she made it based on information she wasn't privy to.

"It shall be done. Have you any other points?" The King asks with a proud glint in his eye.

"One, sir. I want Cady to learn defense and weapons skills," Janis says boldly. "She is not a damsel in distress or a prize to be won. She's come too close several times to bodily harm or worse, she was simply lucky someone was there. She should know how to save herself. Or prevent things of that nature from happening in the first place. Just a few basic self defense moves and skills with the sword and bow will suffice."

The Queen looks slightly more disgruntled at this, but does agree to it when the King leans in to discuss with her. "Very well. Excellently done, Janis. You have exceeded even our highest expectations. Your resignation from the guard is accepted, and we are eager to begin your royal studies."

Janis heaves a sigh of relief and slouches slightly in her chair. Cady grins widely at her. "May we be excused now, please?"

"Of course. Go be kids, you've done enough adulting for the day," the Queen orders. Cady runs towards the door, and Janis pushes herself after her quickly.

"They're right, you know," Cady says once they're alone. "You really did a superb job, there. I'm so proud of you. You'll make an excellent leader, however you choose."

"You're not angry I didn't order him to be killed?" Janis asks.

"I'm not pleased, but I know it's petty of me to order his execution simply because he hurt you," Cady replies. "You did something out of the ordinary, here. You clearly based your choice off of some information I don't know."

"I suppose," Janis says. "He was... misguided, I would say. If he had said that he just wanted to overthrow the monarchy here to continue what's happening elsewhere, I would have gone through with it. But he didn't even know anything about Evanston. He joined his group to get revenge on all monarchy. He's from Winter River, the monarchy there killed his family. He's grieving and went about it the wrong way."

"That's good of you, Janis. Maybe you should do this sort of thing more often," Cady says gently. "How did you get him to tell you?"

"Please, no, this alone was almost too much for me," Janis chuckles. "I just... spoke to him. I don't forgive him for what he did to us, but if you treat anyone with dignity there's always a chance they'll respond in kind."

Cady freezes and turns to look at her. "You," she says, cupping Janis' face and kissing her. "Are impossibly wise. I've trained for my whole life to deal with situations like this, and I would have never thought to do what you have."

"Maybe I should be Queen then," Janis jokes.

"Is that what you want? You've proven today that you'd be excellent at it," Cady replies. "I could use your input either way."

"Um... yes. I want to rule with you, help you be Queen. I'll become Queen as well," Janis replies. Cady kisses her again happily.

"You've always been Queen to me. Queen of my heart," she says. "You'll make a wonderful Queen, my love."

"So will you. What should we do with the rest of today?" Janis replies with a grin.

"You should decide, you've had a stressful day," Cady says gently. "Damian said he has something for you, though. Shall we go see him?"

Janis nods, so they make their way down to the servants area of the castle. "Oh, Janis, darling! It's wonderful to see you well, how have you been?" Ms. Norbury, the head housekeeper, says when they're just outside the sewing room. Janis has always loved her, Ms. Norbury was the closest to a mother she could get when she first arrived at the palace.

"I've only been awake for a few days, but I feel fine," Janis replies, begrudgingly accepting a hug. "Better with each."

"Grand," Ms. Norbury replies. "Well, I must be off. Come see me soon, girls. Join me for tea."

"We absolutely will," Cady replies as Ms. Norbury dashes away. "She was always one of my favorites. She used to play with me when my parents were busy."

"She's always been my favorite too," Janis replies. "She taught me how to sew and gave Damian and I passes to steal extra from the kitchens when we were hungry as kids."

"How sweet," Cady coos. She pushes the door open. "Damian? Are you here? Oh, is that what I think it is?"

Damian looks up and hastily hides a letter he was reading through. "No! It's nothing. Hi."

"That's the most suspicious you've ever fucking acted, what is that?" Janis asks knowingly.

"A letter." Damian replies childishly. Janis inches her way around the mess of tables to thwack him on the head.

"I know that, dipshit, who's it from?" Janis grumbles. "You're grinning at it like your favorite meal."

"It's... from Aaron. Cady's mother helped me set up a way for us to send letters back and forth privately," Damian mumbles sheepishly.

Cady smiles happily, which Janis wasn't expecting. She had really liked Aaron, Janis would've expected Cady to be jealous of Damian. But she's clearly not.

"Oh, wonderful! Is Aaron well?" Cady asks happily. "He must visit soon, we could go on double dates."

"He seems well, yeah," Damian says shyly. "I'll let him know you want him to visit."

"Damie's in looooooooooooove!" Janis squeals happily. "With a booooooy!"

"Janis, I swear to god," Damian groans. "I still have needles and you still have eyes, I don't care if you just came back to life."

"Okay, whoa," Cady says, pulling Janis backwards slightly to break them apart. "Play nice. Dame, you said you had something for us?"

"Oh! Yeah," Damian suddenly seems very excited. "My friend Karen, she's an inventor. She's been working on new designs for machines to help the elderly get around, and she was wondering if Janis could try this."

He pulls around a contraption that looks to be a series of metal bars welded together with wheels on the bottom. "She calls it a walker. You hold yourself up like this. And, for you anyway, it'll help you build the strength in your legs until your muscle tone comes back enough that you can walk on your own."

Janis will do anything to be able to walk again. She'd anticipated being stuck in this wheelchair for a minimum of a month. "I'll try it."

Damian positions it in front of her, and Cady helps push her upright once Janis grabs onto the rubber covered handles. Damian is waiting in front and Cady is behind her in case something goes wrong, so Janis takes a tentative step. Then another. Then another.

"This is incredible," Janis breathes excitedly.

"It should help you re-learn faster," Cady says happily. "You seem more stable already, you couldn't even do one step with me holding you up the first day. You'll be back in no time, love."

Janis' excited smile is the cutest thing she's ever seen.

—————

"Here, Princess, you can wear these. They're clean, I promise," Janis says roughly a week later, handing over one of her practice outfits. It's simple, just some plain brown trousers and a blue tunic, along with some boots. "I'll see if Damian can make you something better."

Cady takes the clothes and heads behind the changing screen, coming back with the sleeves way past her hands and the trousers a bit baggy. Janis thinks she looks absolutely adorable.

"Oh, this is so comfortable," Cady sighs happily as she spins around in front of the mirror. "I had no idea trousers were so lovely. They're so light!"

"I know they are," Janis chuckles. "You look beautiful, Princess. Come here."

Cady sits next to her on the bed, allowing Janis to help her roll the sleeves up so she can use her hands and tie her hair back so it's out of her way. Cady tucks the trousers into the boots, and borrows a belt to hold them up at the waist.

"There. Now you look like a proper soldier," Janis compliments. "Ron's waiting for us in the yard, come on."

Cady walks beside Janis as she inches herself down the corridor, occasionally bouncing or twisting to test out her new garments. She grins happily every time.

"Ah, hello, Your Highness!" Ron calls once they reach the end of the corridor. Janis scoots herself to sit on the short steps to watch them, but Cady goes down into the yard to shake his hand.

"Hello, Captain, it's lovely to meet you," she says politely. Ron chuckles.

"Lovely to meet you as well, Your Highness. Now, I'm not going to treat you like the Princess, here. You're going to be put through the same stuff I put everyone else through when they first join my ranks," he says. Cady nods confidently.

"I can do it."

"Good! Now, your first weapon is always your voice," Ron says, getting right into it. "If someone were to approach you, wanting to hurt you, what would you do?"

"Um... I would probably run," Cady says anxiously.

"That can be a useful strategy, but say you couldn't run away. Then what?"

"I would say 'please leave me alone'," Cady says.

"That's... a good start," Ron says. "But I want you to think more along the lines of 'back off!' or 'get away from me!'"

"But that would be rude," Cady admonishes. "I couldn't do that!"

Janis snickers from her spot. "Princess, if they're trying to kill you, it's okay to be rude."

"Oh yeah," Cady says. "I would say 'back off, motherfucker!'"

"That's more like it!" Ron congratulates. "We'll work on that. Noise helps, and you need more power behind it. For now, would you like to start with the sword or the bow?"

"Um... the sword, please," Cady hums nervously. Ron picks up the training sword and hands it to her. Cady instantly drops it and has to jump away to avoid losing a toe. "Whoa! That's heavy, I'm sorry."

Ron just laughs and hands it to her again, making sure she has a solid grip on it first. "That's quite alright, Your Highness. Here you are, let's try this again."

Cady manages to keep it in her grip this time, holding it aloft and giving a delighted laugh. Janis is a little concerned, but remembers the power she felt on holding her first sword and just laughs with her.

Ron brings over a straw man and runs over to stand by Janis, just letting Cady go at it to see what she'll do inherently. Cady gives a guttural grunt and immediately lops his head off, following with a series of random jabs in the abdomen.

"She's really going for it," Ron mutters slightly anxiously. Cady gives another battle cry and cuts off an arm.

"She's been through some stuff," Janis mutters back. "Just let her get it out, she'll probably calm down."

Once the dummy is sufficiently mutilated for Cady's taste, she turns around to face them, panting heavily. "Did I do it?"

"Uh, yeah! You... did a little more than we thought," Ron replies. "Very well done."

Cady beams happily. "What now?"

Ron doesn't seem to know what to do with her from here. "Um... let's move on to archery for a while. Sarkisian, give her some water."

Cady comes to her fiancée's side and eagerly takes the offered canteen, sucking the water from it hastily.

"Having fun, Princess?" Janis chuckles when she finally breaks away from the bottle.

"Yes! This is awesome," Cady says as she kicks her legs happily. Maybe she wouldn't calm down like Janis had thought.

"You're doing a great job. I've never seen Ron speechless before," Janis chuckles affectionately. "Just don't go too hard, or you'll be too sore to do more for a while."

"Oh. Okay," Cady replies, seeming to calm slightly. "Ooh!" She squeals as Ron comes back carrying a target and a bow and arrows. Never mind.

Cady kisses Janis for strength and heads back over, listening intently as Ron explains the proper stance and way to hold the bow. Cady is left-handed, which makes things interesting for them, but she manages well enough. He runs to use Janis as a human shield once Cady actually has arrows to use.

"Hey!" Janis says as she swats him away. Cady loads up her weapon, gets into the proper stance, and pulls the string back.

"I missed," she says dejectedly once she's fired, missing by about a foot to the side. Janis chuckles.

"Good job, Sunshine!" She calls, and Cady turns to pout at her. "I'm serious! You did good! Try again."

Cady pulls another arrow from her quiver and sets up again. Janis can see the gears turning in her head, learning to adjust her grip slightly and aim carefully. The wind picks up, and she watches Cady adjust accordingly. She fires again, and gasps happily when the arrow makes contact with a resounding thwack.

She barely hit it, it's about six inches to the left of a bullseye, but she still dances around happily.

"I hit it! Jay, did you see?"

"I did, Princess, excellent job," Janis replies. "Do the rest, it's almost dinner time."

Cady does, aiming and firing her remaining eight arrows. She manages to make five of them hit the target, her closest being about three inches away from the center. She rests everything away properly and shakes Ron's hand again, thanking him for the lessons.

"Oh, that was so exciting!" Cady squeals as they walk towards the bathing rooms. Janis is gaining some speed back every day, and is walking longer distances.

"I'm so proud of you, Sunshine. We'll make a fighter out of you yet," Janis chuckles. "Go and get yourself clean, I'll meet you in the dining hall."

"Okay. I love you," Cady hums, leaning in for a kiss. Janis goes to fetch Damian so they can prepare for dinner while Cady goes to take a bath. "I'll see you soon."

————-

Cady gives a resounding groan when she wakes the next morning, startling Janis awake.

"Princess? Whassamatter?" Janis slurs, hauling herself to sit. Cady blinks at her wearily.

"I can't move," she whines. "Everything hurts."

Janis rubs her eyes with a chuckle. "I warned you."

"Yeah, after I had already pulled every muscle in my body," Cady grumbles. "How do you make it go away?"

"Wait here," Janis huffs affectionately. She pulls herself out of bed and heads into their en-suite, filling a glass of water from the tap.

"Janis," Cady says excitedly when she comes back.

"What?" Janis asks in confusion.

"Look down," Cady grins. Janis does. She forgot to grab her walker, she made it there and back on her own steam for the first time since her injury.

"Holy shit!" Janis calls, nearly dropping the glass in her hand. "Ha! Eat that, stupid muscles."

"Good job, love," Cady says. "Come here."

Janis crawls back into bed and pulls her fiancée on top of her for kisses. She'd learned the hard way that Cady really did not like when things were the other way round, so she does this instead.

"Oh, Princess, I'm sorry," Janis says hastily when Cady gives a pained whimper at the motion. "I forgot, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Cady says, wincing as she's laid back down. "God, how do you deal with this?"

"It won't happen forever, eventually you'll get used to it," Janis replies as she hands her the water. "But for now, hydrate, rest, and heat. I can also massage you if you think that would help."

"Anything," Cady says desperately. "Please."

"I'm sorry you're so sore, Princess," Janis says gently as Cady slowly turns to lie on her tummy. "It really does stop hurting so much once you get used to working your muscles."

"My hands hurt so badly," Cady says with a relieved sigh as Janis starts rubbing her shoulders. "Is that normal?"

"Yes, it's from the force of the sword, most probably," Janis replies. "You did more than we were expecting, yesterday. I'm proud of you, Sunshine."

"Why do you call me that?" Cady asks quietly with a happy grin on her face. "I like it, but why?"

"Because you light up my world," Janis replies sheepishly. "You always have, since the day I met you. Even when you're sad, even when I'm sad. I just look at you and the clouds sort of part. At least for a while."

"How poetic," Cady teases. "I love you, Jay."

Janis works her way down Cady's back. "I love you too, Princess. So much."

————-

After another month, Janis can walk fully again with no support. She had taken to using a cane for a while and could do short distances, but with Cady's help doing her exercises, she quickly recovered her strength.

Cady has also made a remarkable amount of progress, and improves in leaps and bounds once Janis is able to help teach her. Janis even joins in sometimes to get more of her strength back. Cady loves sparring against her fiancée an almost worrying amount.

The preparations for their wedding take another few months, since they have to send invitations to other kingdoms by ship and await their responses, as well as handling everything domestically. Damian refuses to let Janis see any of the plans for Cady's wedding gowns, much to her dismay. Janis had elected to wear her old dress uniform, newly decorated with medals of bravery and honor, to honor the way she'd met her love. Luckily, that one is still intact and tucked safely in her trunk.

Finally, in July, the day arrives. It's impossibly warm outside, and Janis' nerves aren't helping.

"Janis, calm down. Everything's going to go beautifully," Damian comforts as he styles her hair in an intricate series of twists and braids to form an elaborate updo.

"What if it's all a trick?" Janis mumbles nervously.

"Janis, you were in a coma for a month and Cady barely left your side once," Damian says. "And the King and Queen have been working with you for months on stuff, it would reflect badly on them to lie to you. They all love you. I'll be calling you Your Majesty by the end of the day."

The royals had announced their abdication the week prior, deciding to step down from the title but still act as advisors and mentors to Cady and Janis as they got their bearings as the first ever joint Queens of Evanston. Janis and Cady would be married and then coronated in the same ceremony.

"No you will not," Janis demands. "I'm still not used to it. You're not allowed to call me that, ever."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Damian teases. Janis swats at him behind her head. "There. Beautiful. Oh no, hold on, we lost it. Ah, there."

"You absolute cad," Janis grumbles. She turns around to bury her face in his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jan. Let's go get you wed," Damian chuckles.

-

Ron and Damian both give Janis away in place of her father. She hugs them both tightly when she reaches the altar, her eyes already watering as she sees them cry. Damian is one of her best men, along with Aaron, who's visiting from his own kingdom for the occasion. Cady and Janis were sharing best men and maids of honor, as well.

She takes a second to breathe, wiping her eyes before the organist suddenly picks up again. Janis snaps to look to the door, ignoring the sea of people between them.

She gasps and almost falls down when she sees Cady, Damian has to catch her and push her back up.

Cady looks radiant. Her dress is long and absolutely massive, with big poofy skirts starting at her waist and flaring behind her. The bodice is tightly corseted, which makes Janis a little worried about her ability to breathe, but Cady doesn't seem to mind. The sleeves are puffed at her shoulders and then tight around her arms, ending roughly in the middle of her forearm.

Her hair is loose in her natural curls down her back, and Janis can see her wide, delighted smile through her veil. Cady hugs her parents tightly when they reach the altar before coming to stand in front of Janis.

The bishop may as well be speaking French for all Janis can understand, lost in her almost-wife's eyes. Damian has to jab her in the back when it's time for her vows, which she quickly forgets in favor of staring at her love again. She finally tunes back in when Cady begins her own.

"Janis, my love," Cady says, already crying slightly from Janis' vows. "I don't know if you remember, but I met you for the first time exactly a year ago. Right away, it was like we'd known one another for our whole lives. In a single year, you've given me the happiest moments of my life. And, in the same amount of time, one of the worst. Living without you was the hardest thing I've had to do. Seeing you injured and ill will stay with me forever."

Janis reaches to hold one of her hands as Cady's voice breaks.

"So, instead, I vow to be with you forever and for always. I vow to love you, even when you steal from my plate and take the blankets in bed. I vow to take care of you when you're ill or hurt, and to treasure the moments we have together when we're both well. I vow to protect you the way you protect me, and heal with you as we grow on this journey together. I love you so much, Janis Sarkisian."

Janis is fully weeping by this point. She never thought this would happen to her, so many emotions are running through her mind at this moment. Cady reaches to brush her tears away with a grin.

The bishop pronounces them wives and says they may kiss, so Janis grabs her wife's face and pulls her in happily.

"Hi wife," she whispers against her lips when they pull back for a second. Cady smiles delightedly.

"Hi wife."

They head back up the aisle and out of the room, and Janis immediately picks her wife up to spin her around. Cady squeals and clings to her happily.

"Jay! Since when can you lift me?" Cady asks happily.

"Since always. But recently, probably about a week and a half ago," Janis responds.

"Very impressive," Cady purrs, leaning in for a kiss. "We're married, Jay."

"We are, Sunshine. Should we go become Queens?" Janis responds happily.

"Indeed," Cady says, offering an arm to lead her back in for the next ceremony. "I love you."

"I love you too."

—————

"Your Majesty?" A servant named Gretchen asks at the ball to celebrate, having to repeat it a few times before Janis realizes she's speaking to her.

"Oh, my apologies! Yes?" Janis asks, turning away from her wife for a second.

"There's a young girl outside who seems desperate to speak with you. She says you're her sister?" Gretchen replies, seeming very anxious.

Janis chokes on a sip of her wine. "Did she give a name?"

"She says it's Juliana, Your Majesty," Gretchen says. "Do you wish to see for yourself or shall we send her away?"

Cady suddenly returns from where she's been conversing with Aaron and Damian. "What's the matter, my love?" She asks worriedly.

"Um... apparently my sister is here. She wants to see me," Janis replies in confusion.

"Oh," Cady says. "Do you want to see her?"

"Yes," Janis says. "I really do."

"Well, go on then. Shall I come with you, or do you want to be alone?"

"I'm not sure if it's actually her yet, I haven't heard from her in six years, I don't even know what she looks like," Janis says anxiously. "But you can come if you like."

Cady nods and takes her hand, both of them following after the servant as they're led to one of the holding rooms.

"Julie?" Janis asks apprehensively as they enter, and a young girl snaps to look at them.

"Janis!" she says excitedly as she rushes to hug her. The guards attempt to stop her, but Janis waves them off and crouches slightly to look closer at her features. They share the same warm brown eyes, and round full cheeks. This girl has the same freckle on the tip of her nose that her little sister has.

"Prove you're my sister, first. When's your birthday?" Janis asks.

"March fourteenth," the girl replies. That's the same, too.

"What was the last thing I said to you before I left?" Janis asks to seal the deal.

"Be brave, I'll always love you," the girl replies easily.

"It is you," Janis sobs happily, hugging her so tightly. "God, you've gotten so big! How old are you now?"

"Twelve," Julie says with a grin.

"And mother and father? Where are they?" Janis asks. She hadn't expected anyone to show up, but Julie had to have gotten here somehow.

"Um... they died, two winters ago. The flu did it," Julie says sadly. Janis holds her a little tighter.

"Oh. Where have you been staying, since then?" Janis asks worriedly. Julie looks about the same as she did when she first arrived here.

"I move every night. Sometimes the bakers let me sleep inside if it rains or snows," Julie says casually. So she's been living on the streets as well.

Cady decides now is a good time to step into the conversation. "Hi, darling. Can I talk to Janis for a moment? You can have her right back."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Julie replies, curtsying politely. "I'm sorry if I ruined your wedding."

"No, Jules, not at all. We're so happy to see you, we just need to chat for a moment," Janis comforts with another hug.

Cady pulls her into a corner. "Do you want her here?"

"Yes," Janis says. "Could we do that?"

"Of course," Cady says gently. "She's technically part of the royal family now, she's perfectly welcome. She's adorable, she looks just like you."

"We both take after our mother," Janis says fondly. "Thank you, I love you so much."

"Of course. I couldn't let her stay on the streets. I want to work on that as soon as possible as well, for other children. Some sort of place for kids who have nowhere else to go," Cady replies. "Julie, could you come here, please?"

Julie comes skipping over happily and bows again. She's been on the streets for even longer than Janis was, but her spirits don't seem dampened even slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"How would you like to live here, with us? You can see Janis every day, and won't have to be in the cold anymore," Cady says gently.

"Here? In the castle?" Julie asks with wide eyes. "Are you sure, Your Majesty?"

"Absolutely, you're family. I'm so happy I get to meet you," Cady says. Julie runs to hug her desperately.

"Thank you!" Julie calls loudly, muffled by her dress.

"You're welcome, honey. Gretchen, can you prepare a bath and plate for her? And tell someone to prepare a room?" Cady asks politely as she hugs the small girl back. "We'll get you cleaned and fed, and then Janis and I will come find you in the morning so we can all get to know one another. Does that sound good?"

"Thank you so much, Your Majesty," Julie says, running to hug her sister again.

"Call me Cady," Cady giggles. "You two take as long as you need, I have to get back." Janis kisses her goodbye and continues holding desperately to her little sister.

-

"Welcome back, love," Cady greets as Janis returns about an hour later. "Is she well?"

"She's delighted, she's so happy to have met you," Janis responds. "Thank you for letting her stay."

"Of course. She seems a lovely girl, I'm excited to have met her too," Cady says. "Come celebrate."

"I love you so much," Janis hums as she and Cady dance together. "My wife."

"I love you too, my wife," Cady giggles happily.

————-

"And then you were born," Cady says, looking down at their six year old son, who looks back at her with wide blue eyes that match her own. Prince Rhys the Second of Evanston.

"Wow, Mama. Did Mommy really get hurt that badly?" He asks in awe.

"She did. It was very scary, for all of us," Cady replies. She had left out most of the details, but had decided he was old enough to know the gist. "But she recovered, and now she can play with you all you want. She healed very quickly."

"Because you took care of her. And you gave her the true love's kiss, to wake her back up," Rhys says with confidence. "That's why she's okay."

"You're right, my little Prince," Janis says as she enters the room.

"Mommy!" He calls, running to her. Janis picks him up to hold him close.

"Hi, my darling boy! Have you been taking good care of Mama while I was away?" She asks. She had been in Sherwood for two weeks, working on re-establishing civility between their kingdoms.

"Yes, Mommy," He replies.

"Good. I've missed you so much," Janis says, kissing his little cheeks as she sets him down to greet Cady.

"Welcome home, my love," Cady says as she leans in to kiss her. "How was your trip?"

"Very dull. I would much rather have been here with you," Janis replies. "And how is this one?"

Cady chuckles as Janis rests a hand on her stomach. "Very active, lately. Must be another little fighter like you."

"God, I hope not. I've already had enough excitement to last a lifetime," Janis sighs. "But it's been so, so worth it. Hasn't it, my little Prince?"

He shrieks with laughter as Janis grabs him to toss him in the air, before she pulls him close to tickle his belly.

"Let's get you to bed, little one, we have a long day of playing to catch up on tomorrow," Janis says, tucking him in.

"Mommy, can I be there when you marry Mama next time?" Rhys asks sleepily as Janis leans down to kiss his forehead. "I wanna see the dresses."

"Sure, my little Prince," Janis responds with a chuckle. "Goodnight. We love you."

"I love you too," Rhys says, rolling over onto his side and drifting off.

Janis follows Cady to their own bedroom, changing into pajamas and crawling into bed with her wife.

"How have things been around here while I was away?" Janis asks as they both lie on their sides to look at each other. It's unusual for Janis to be the one traveling, Cady is usually the one to leave while Janis controls things domestically.

"Good, nothing terribly exciting has happened," Cady responds with a calm smile, glad her wife is home. "Oh, but the midwife did the ring test for the baby the other day."

"And?" Janis asks excitedly. Their midwife has been doing her job for thirty years and her ring test has only been incorrect three times. It was correct for Rhys, anyway.

"She says it's a girl," Cady says happily. "Our little Princess."

"Really?" Janis squeals.

"Mmhmm. What should we call her?" Cady asks, wriggling closer for a cuddle.

"Harmony," Janis says instantly. She's always loved Cady's full name, and decided she liked Harmony almost as much.

"That's beautiful, love. Little Princess Harmony of Evanston," Cady grins. "I love it."

"She seems to as well," Janis chuckles as the baby suddenly kicks against her. "Be nice to Mama, Harmony."

Cady giggles. "I love you, Janis."

"I love you too, Cady."

And they all lived happily ever after.

——————

hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry.

our status for requests is still the same. i am taking them, but please be aware that it will be july before i can get to anything new. i'm going as quickly as i can.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

[tolkien-fics]

The Sleeping Princess

Word count: 1,801

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, violence

Pairing: Ecthelion x Human! Reader

 Plot: Based on the fairy-tale Sleeping Beauty. Y/n is a mortal princess in a far land south west of Middle Earth, cursed from birth to fall into a death-like sleep. 

Year YT. Long ago, before the Fellowship was formed, there was a kingdom in the South West of Middle Earth. This kingdom was ruled fairly by the King and Queen, who made sure to provide for their people. The Kingdom was known for their riches, possessing precious gems they would trade with Dwarves and Elves. The people of the kingdom were happy, and praised their royal family. 

After a five year reign, the King and Queen wished for a child. Not out of needing an heir, but out of love. However, they never received the gift they desperately wished for. It took three years of wishing before they finally got their little joy: Princess Y/n was born.

Overjoyed, the King and Queen instantly set out of inviting the entire kingdom to the celebration feast.

"Over here!" One servant called to the other as they decorated the Hall with cloths of all color, the cooks displayed their feast on a long table, the minstrels practicing their music. The joy of the castle could be felt from miles away. But there was an evil mage who lived in the forest just out of kingdom grounds, watching the events unfolding from her reflective pond. Laced with magic so she could spy on the kingdom's people.

"So, they think they can get away with not inviting me to the little brat's party? They won't get away with this!" She growled, cooking up a plan in her mind. Everyone had gathered in the palace to welcome the newborn into the world. The people were laughing, drinking and eating. All paused when the King stood to make a speech.

"Dear friends, we thank you for attending the celebration this day. We have wished for a child for so long, and now she is finally here. We cannot be more grateful than we already are. Now without further-ado-" There was a slam as the hall doors burst open, the guards scrambling to unsheathe their swords at the surprise visitor.

"I suppose I am not considered one of your friends, your majesty?" The mage spat bitterly, brows furrowed and hands placed on her hips. She was a simple mage, dressed in rags. Those who never heard of her would have mistaken her for being homeless, but to the kingdom folk she was a powerful witch, one not to be crossed.

"Oh Lithia! You're-!" The Queen was shocked, eyes wide and a hand placed on her chest.

"Alive? Of course I am! Though you would know that if you bothered to check in." The mage replied, hand waving dismissively in the air.

"We apologize, Lithia." The King started. "You haven't appeared for years! We merely thought you had left, or died! We did not mean to cause offense."

Lithia scoffed. "Enough! Let's see the new princess." The mage quickly moved to the basin in which you laid, wrapped in delicate silk. Lithia quickly picked you up, keeping you at arms length. 

"That's it! Put her down this instant!" The King commanded. "Guards!"

"Am I not allowed to give the princess my blessing?" Lithia questioned, not waiting for your parents response before beginning:

"Dear little princess, this is my blessing to you. Upon coming of age you will fall into a deep sleep, one that you will not wake from. Not even the powerful magic in the world will save you!"

Lithia cackled, roughly thrusting you into your mother's arms. She left the hall, the door slamming shut behind her. Everyone began to whisper among themselves, your mother began to cry sorrowfully. "Our daughter, our poor daughter." She sobbed while holding you close.

"Perhaps I can help." A voice spoke from the far side of the table. Instantly, the King and Queen looked up, hope in their eyes.

The voice belonged to a young elf maiden, one of the few that resided in the kingdom. She too knew magic, pure magic of good. 

"Oh, can you please help our daughter?" The queen asked, teary eyed as she clung to you.

"I cannot reverse the magic, your majesty." The elleth spoke. "But I can change the outcome. The princess will indeed fall into a deep sleep, but she will wake up. The mage forget the mention the greatest magic known. Love. The princess' one love will break the curse."

"Oh thank you!" The Queen expressed her gratitude. "You have given her the gift of life, another chance! I can only hope that it will be enough."

It had been twenty years since that day. You grew to be a fair princess, admired by all. Your beauty was breath-taking, and your heart was good to match.

"What a beautiful day it is." You mused as you strolled through the royal gardens, kneeling down to admire the small daises, picking some to make a flower crown. Your gentle hands weaved the stems together, humming a soft tune as you did.

You were soon distracted by a vibrant butterfly, fluttering past you and ahead.

"Such beauty." You admired, standing to follow the creature and abandoning the flower crown. You wished the catch another glimpse of the butterfly, jogging through the garden to catch up.

"Strange. I have not seen this part of the garden before." You thought aloud, seeing a whole flower bed of red roses. They were vibrant and alive with color, compared to some of the dying flowers you had seen.

"They smell good, too!" The lovely scent wafted to your nose from the light breeze that blew past. You reached a hand to pick one, a thorn breaking the skin of your finger and drawing blood. The red liquid dripped down your finger, droplets staining the luscious grass.

Looking at the blood, you began to feel faint. Your surroundings started to spin, making you feel unbalanced.

"I don't feel good." Was the last thing you spoke before your body hit the ground. The King and Queen were heartbroken as your body was delivered to your chambers and placed on your bed.

"How could we have overlooked the roses?" The Queen sobbed, covering her face with her hands. The King stiffled his own tears, "All we can do now is wait, my queen. Wait for her one true love, as the elleth predicted."

As their cries sounded, the kingdom was slowly pausing, the residents turning into stone for as long as it would take for their princess to awake.

Days turned into months, and months to years. The story of princess Y/n had spread far and wide, elves and men attempted to rescue you but none succeeded. Until one day, a handsome elf lord had arrived from Gondolin. Ecthelion of the fountain had heard of your story from his kin, and even though nobody had rescued you, he hoped he would be the one.

"What makes you think you will succeed?" He was told, but he shook their words off. He just knew.

He rode for exactly thirty days before reaching the kingdom. From the outside, it had lost it's charm it once had: the trees rotting, a musty, damp stench overtook the once glorious smells of baking, flowers and perfumes. As Ecthelion rode through the streets, he noticed that all life stopped. Everyone had become statues, paused at the moment they were working, buying, and chatting. Ecthelion shrugged his shoulders, trying to escape the terrible feeling that overcome him. It was a sort of uneasiness, he guessed. Despite this, he looked towards his elvish sword, knowing he was capable of protecting himself if necessary.

The elf lord gazed upon the castle as he arrived at the half open gates. He got off his steed, stroking the soft mane before arming himself with his sword, walking through the grounds. The corners were littered with cobwebs, the guards looking more like ornamental statues than the people they were. Ecthelion felt sadness at his surroundings: He had heard stories that the kingdom was once vibrant and joyous, a truly happy place to live. But now it had lost it's spark.

"Get him!" A terrible cry reached his ears. Instantly, the elf drew his sword, deflecting the attacks that came from a small group of orcs. Now, he didn't hear about this. They must have inhabited the place during it's time of silence. Ecthelion hit, stabbed, kicked and beheaded the orcs coming at him. His skin was damp with sweat, blood dripping from his nose after receiving a punch. He beheaded the last orc with a fierce yell, panting for breath.

Now on his guard, he made his way down corridors, hallways and up a flight of spiral stairs. When he reached the top, there was a single door at the end of the short corridor. He couldn't hear anything, no orc growls or sounds of footsteps. 

Ecthelion opened the door warily and entered, his breath taken away at the sight. He was in your chambers, and saw your figure laying on the bed, hands clasped together. You looked dead, but he saw you still had color in your cheeks. Though it was faint, he knew you was still alive somehow.

"You are beautiful." He whispered as he came to your bedside, his hand covering yours. He rubbed his thumb along your hand, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"I pray to Eru that you will wake up, and greet me with your glorious presence." Ecthelion bent down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, loving kiss. His eyes re-opened to see yours twitch, then open slowly.

"Oh dear. I must have fallen asleep." You spoke in a hoarse voice. "Please don't think of me as rude, sir. Who are you?"

Ecthelion smiled, helping you to sit up. "I have come to release you of your curse, princess. I heard of your story and knew in my heart I had to come. My name is Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountain."

The King smiled, as he too had awoken. Along with the rest of the kingdom. 

"You have saved us, Lord Ecthelion! However can we thank you?"

The elf lord smiled, eyes on you once more. "I wish to ask for your blessing to court your daughter, and one day make her my wife. For her beauty shines brighter than the stars." 

You was taken aback, a blush dusting your cheeks. You smiled gently, covering his hands with your own. "Oh Lord Ecthelion, my beauty could never compare to your own."

The King chuckled, "You may, indeed! You have deemed yourself brave and worthy enough to court my daughter. For saving us, we will forever be thankful." Ecthelion gazed into your eyes once more, full of love and kindness. He bent down to kiss you once more, making a promise to himself that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

[grimmseye]

Simulacrum

Fandom: She-ra and the Princesses of Power

Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak

Warnings/Other Tags: Chipped!Entrapta, Canon Divergence, Hordak being angsty and also deeply in love, my over-analysis of Entrapta’s body language and mannerism at play,

(Read on Ao3 here!)

-------

People tend to discount Entrapta. This is what Entrapta herself told him, though in not so simple words. It’s a picture painted through stories, late-night insecurities come to light that he wishes he could pry away. She’s the princess without a Runestone, considered powerless, considered reckless, needing to be handled. Everyone who’s made that mistake has suffered for it, and that includes Hordak.

So when the lights go out, he braces.

Catra alone taught him how to handle this, the moments of blindness before his vision adjusts to the dark. Once he’s there, his eyes are sharper than any etherian’s, but the contrast between the sterile lights of the ship and the sudden oblivion is too sudden. He stoops low, balancing his weight to spring, holds his breath and just listens.

There’s the hiss of fiber against metal. One ear flicks up. Entrapta will always come from above, and when he hears the rapid drag of her hair, he leaps.

He hits the ground in a somersault, the walkway rattling against the impact as she landed. It has to be her. Hordak blinks, growling as he wills his eyes to adapt. He needs to see her.

“Entrapta!”

The call echoes. Breaths heave into his chest as he pushes himself upwards, ears rotating to catch any shift of movement. There’s only silence — she’s gone still. She knows him, that was what made her so dangerous. If she had truly betrayed him, she would have destroyed him. Believing he could survive her betrayal had been his first mistake.

He calls out again, “Entrapta.” This time it’s desperate, his voice cracks around her name. He only wants to see her. He wants to hold her, and beg her forgiveness, and take her somewhere far away from the mess he’s made.

A laugh trickles into his ears. His breath catches, warmth blooming in his chest. The sound reverberates, impossible to pinpoint as she giggles with the same delight as deploying a new robot for its first run. He is the subject of her experiment this time. It’s terrifying, but he aches to hear her joy.

As his vision adapts, shapes begin to form: the walkway he stands on, the steep drop below, the door so far away. That doesn’t matter. He won’t be running. Hordak turns, his gaze scanning the room: the walls, the ceiling, below the bridge. As he rotates to put his back to the exit, he sees it — a length of hair reaching down from the cables far above, wrapping around the stair railing. Then another, on its other side, bracing to take Entrapta’s weight and lower her down.

A chill drips down his back. She comes down slow, a spider to the fly. Everything about her is wrong. The sideways tilt to her head, the jagged smile, the bright green eyes looking as though the lenses of one of her masks had been inserted into the sockets. Her clothing is too neat, fitted close to her body, not so much as a stain on the pristine white suit.

“Hordak,” she breathes, and she sounds so happy. Her arms spread out around her, as though an offer to an embrace, stepping forward towards him. “I knew you’d come back for me.”

His heart leaps, a spark of hope. “I did,” he murmurs. “How could I not?” He moves towards her, eager to greet her. If anyone could resist Prime’s influence, of course it would be her. Brave and stubborn and brilliant — he offers his hands and wants to sink to his knees when she takes them in her own, bare instead of gloved. They slide out of his grip, and he only has a moment to grieve the loss before her arms wrap around his torso as Entrapta hugs herself against him.

His knees do give out, then, Hordak gasping as he clutches her close, an arm around her waist and a hand burying in her hair. He sinks down, Entrapta supporting his weight with tendrils of her hair, fingers combing through the crest atop his head as he buries his face in her shoulder. “You have more faith than I ever did,” he rasps, shame in his voice.

“Of course I do,” Entrapta soothes. “We can all find faith in Horde Prime’s light.”

Something brushes the inside of a port. Hordak gasps and tears himself away. He lands supine, pushing himself up to see her poised above him, hair braided into sharp spikes. One of them had been a moment away from plunging into his port, would have pierced through his spine and come out the sternum.

“Entrapta,” he gasps, shuffling backwards as she advances on him. “Please. I am sorry — I didn’t know — I should have, I never should have doubted you.”

“That’s okay,” she sing-songs. Her smile never leaves. “Everybody does. Everyone doubts me. Everyone leaves me.” Her smile falters for just a moment, grief shining through. And then it is gone, and she is wearing that too-peaceful smile, not excited or awed, just calm satisfaction. “But here? I finally have a place to stay.” She gets on her knees, her hair snaking out, wrapping around Hordak’s ankles, his shins, dragging him forward.

She hovers over him, one hand pinning his to the walkway, the other caressing his face. Hordak could break her grip. The armor the rebels built him was nowhere near Entrapta’s capability, but it’s enough. He could wrench free of the delicate hold on his wrist and rip claws through her hair. He could. But Hordak remains in place, drawing sharp breaths through his nose.

“I don’t understand why you keep running from the light.” Entrapta’s face is puzzled, like he’s a string of code she can’t quite parse. The glow in her eyes mars that look, taking out all the wonder that should be there. Then realization dawns on her face with a gasp and a delighted little laugh and she says, “Oh! I know! It’s because you’re a defect.”

He flinches. Entrapta makes a hushing nose, thumb stroking over his cheek. It isn’t her. This isn’t how she touches him. Her hair is for delicacy, stroking the cheek or weighing on the shoulder. When she uses her hands there is nothing so soft, she grabs him and she doesn’t let go, holding tight and pouring her heart into it like she pours her heart into everything, everyone, giving far more of herself than she should and yet he’s too greedy for her to put a stop to it.

And this isn’t Entrapta, petting his cheek with a pitying smile. “But that’s okay,” she breathes. “We can fix you. We can make you beautiful again.”

“I do not need to be fixed.” The words aren’t Hordak’s own. He is only repeating what she’d told him over and over and over again, patiently waiting for it to stick. “And imperfections are beautiful. Aren’t they, Entrapta?”

She blinks. Her eyebrows furrow, lips parting. And then she shudders, face screwing up as she grips his wrist tight enough to hurt, as small as she is compared to him she’s still strong.

A moment passes, and the tension bleeds out of her. Circuitry crawls down from her left eye. “It’s those words that show just how defective you are.”

It aches. He knows, with more certainty than he has known anything, that Entrapta would never speak these words. Hearing them still hurts, more than if he’d just let her stab through his port to begin with. Why she hadn’t done so now, when she had him pinned, willingly helpless.

Hordak presses up against her grip. He’s faintly surprised when she lets up, frees her grasp and lets him her hand in his own. He laces their fingers together, holding tight, careful to not so much as scrape her skin with his claws. “I am only telling you what you told me,” he murmurs, looking past the glow in her eyes and praying that she can hear him. “Imperfections are beautiful. Mine, and yours. You are beautiful, Entrapta.”

The circuitry crawls lower, framing her jaw, now. “I am beautiful, yes,” she nods, but it’s stiff. “We are all made radiant in Horde Prime’s light.” The fingers that had been tracing his cheek become a hand pressing flush, holding his face. Entrapta leans down lower, letting go of his hand to support her own weight. Her forehead leans down against Hordak’s, green piercing red. “You could be, too. You can come back. Why would you ever leave?”

Her voice cracks. The smile falters. A lock of hair scoops up in a maneuver he’s memorized, seeking a mask that she isn’t wearing.

Hordak lifts his hand, settling it in her hair, at the back of her head. He strokes down, to the soft strands at the base of the skull, down lower, to where a chip sits cold against her neck.

“I left because of you.”

One claw pierces into the chip. Entrapta’s eyes widen, her face contorting in pain. He feels the electricity dance off her skin and nip his own, only a second before the light fades. He sees her eyes, gorgeous magenta, before they roll up and she slumps on top of him.

Hordak pants. He clutches her close, a sob working out of his throat. There isn’t time. He has her, and that is enough for now.

He gathers her up, holding her against his chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder. A hand comes up, tapping the earpiece that the rebellion archer had given him. “I have Entrapta,” he reports, and is unable to keep the tremble out of his voice. “Returning to the ship now.”

[lolhahahano]

Young Love - Helsa one shot.

For Day 6: What If? of @helsa-week 2020

Summary: A "What if?/ AU". Hans and Elsa fall in love while Hans is stationed in Arendelle to shadow her Father and his Navy. While Hans plans to make their relationship official, Elsa reveals some shocking news that will change their future together.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,000+

started: 06/25/2020

finished: 06/26/2020

A/N: okay so this was written in two days and it turned out pretty decent. I apologize in advance for semi-rushed plot. I just wanted to submit something for Helsa week. Enjooooy!   

---

The first born Princess of Arendelle scurries down the halls, clutching her skirt in her gloved hands, hoping to make it in time to a meeting that's about to take place. Her platinum blonde hair nearly falls out of her neatly braided bun as she picks her pace after glancing at grandfather clock.

A few more steps and Elsa reaches the library door, nearly yanking it open to enter. She gasps, seeing some frost cover the door handle and the area around it. Grabbing a handkerchief out of her pocket, Elsa tries to dissolve the frost by rubbing the handkerchief on the parts affected to melt it.

It doesn't.

She tries a few more times but hears the clock chime to signal the beginning of the afternoon. Elsa panics then glances at the hidden door in the library knowing she must choose between the two situations. She takes a deep breath and stuffs the cloth back into her dress pocket hoping that the warm summer heat will melt her tracks when she leaves.

Elsa shuts the door quietly but the sound reverberates against the empty room. She spots the familiar blue book sticking out against the brown and green ones that nestle beside it. She runs towards it and pulls it down slowly, trying not to break the ancient lever. The door creaks open, groaning with every gear shifting. Elsa cringed as the noise echoes down the steps to the hidden room.

Once the door is parted enough for her to fit through, Elsa squeezes herself through the small opening and runs down the steps one by one to meet her lover.

Elsa is nearly to the other door in the passageway when she hears an older familiar voice.

Her father’s voice.

Her eyes widen and hold back a breath as if she let out one, they would both discover her in the hidden space.

Elsa tiptoes gracefully to the door and raises her head slightly to peer into the study through a small window on the door.

“So Prince Hans, what did you want to discuss with me this afternoon?” Her father, King Agnarr asks.

His arms are crossed behind his back with a stern look upon his face. An expression that Elsa knows all too well.

“As you know, Your Majesty, your eldest daughter and I have spent the past year growing close to one another.” Hans stands there like the navy man he is. “And we have grown very fond of each other as well.”

Elsa sees her father raise a questionable eyebrow at Hans. “Are you wanting to court my daughter, Prince Hans?” The King blatantly asked the Prince.

Elsa lets out an audible gasp from behind the door, startlingly the two men. They look around to pinpoint the source of the noise. She clamps her hands over her mouth to keep from sobbing as tears flow her flushed cheeks.

Hans, from inside the room, is startled by the sudden question even though he knows the answer to it. Before he can respond, he hears a gasp that he knows all too well. He searches for it by scanning the room then he finds it.

His green eyes catch a familiar blue glistening with tears peeking through the small window of the door behind the King.

Hans stands a bit straighter to let her know that he will be silent of his knowledge of her hidden presence. He then goes on to respond to the King’s question.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He says. Agnarr’s eyes land back on him. “I do want to court your beautiful daughter. Only if you would allow me to do so.”

Back in the dark passageway, Elsa starts to ease back to a calm state and a hand automatically lands on her slightly bulging stomach.

Their baby. She smiles softly. Elsa feels the little life within her, movement with excitement from sensing their mother's touch.

Though with tears still glistening in her eyes, she sees that Hans has spotted her and stands a bit straighter to let her know that he will keep hush. Elsa’s eyes shoot back to her father as he speaks again.

“May I ask why, Prince Hans?” Her father presses. “Besides the fact that two have grown close? You know I have had suitors pursue my daughters only because they want to overtake their rank in this kingdom and I will not let that happen.”

“Sir,” Hans responds. “I have grown to love this kingdom as if it were my own and I was grateful when you allowed me to shadow as a rear admiral in your Navy. I would even die in war to protect it. Even if Elsa didn't want to marry me, I would still serve and protect Arendelle at no cost.”

Agnarr walks over to a desk and pulls open a drawer. Right before he reaches in to grab a small velvet box, he looks up at Hans to get a final answer. “Are you sure about this, my boy?”

Hans gives a simple nod, making Elsa giddy with glee. The King grabs the black box and walks back to Hans, placing it in his hand.

“This was my grandmother’s engagement ring which I gave to Iduna when I proposed to her.” Agnarr explains. “It is a tradition for it to be given to the eldest princess of Arendelle from her suitor.”

Hans stares at the small box in disbelief. He was planning to just give Elsa something he found from a royal craftsman but to receive her mother and grandmother's engagement ring, he knew that he was being held to high standards. He places the box in his pants pocket for safe keeping.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored to have this ring for when I propose to Elsa.” Hans gives him a respectful bow.

Elsa nearly bursts at the seams with glee at her Father’s actions but she soon realizes the question that he is going to ask him next.

“Hans, are you aware of Elsa’s… predicament?” Agnarr slowly asks.

He keeps a stone face while contemplating his response. “Yes, Your Majesty. I do know about Elsa’s magic.”

The King’s hands ball into fists with surging protectiveness of his eldest.

“But, Your Majesty!” Hans blurts out, surprising all three of them. “Elsa showed me personally her magic because she felt like she could trust me. And I vow to keep her secret safe until she is ready to tell it herself because I love her no matter what.”

The room is dead silent after Hans’ declaration. He and Elsa exchange quick nervous looks from their spots until Agnarr does the unthinkable.

He hugs Hans.

The Prince stands there awkwardly and gives a small pat on the King’s back. This makes Elsa hold back a laugh from her side of the door.

“Thank you Hans.” Agnarr whispers.

He pulls back and beams with a huge grin, gripping the Prince’s shoulders. “Now, Iduna and I will draw up the engagement announcement then we will talk with you and Elsa about when to announce it. How does that sound?”

“Absolutely perfect, Your Majesty.” Hans anxiously agrees.

Agnarr pats his shoulder. “Hans, you can call me Agnarr. You're part of the family now.”

Hans gives him a nodded smile. “Yes, Your Maj- I mean Agnarr.”

They shake hands and exchange goodbyes. Agnarr then takes his leave to go tell his wife the exciting news. Before twisting the knob, he looks back at Hans.

“Thank you, Hans.” He tells the young Prince but this time with a different connotation.

“You already told me that, Agnarr.” Hans quirks an eyebrow.

The King looks down at the floor. “No, thank you for loving Elsa. I always felt that I hurt her in some way by making her conceal her magic. She used to be so scared of being around others including myself but with you, she is truly happy. I know I have hurt her by keeping her sheltered and with your help, you can fix her hurt. I pray that I will live long enough to see you two become a family together.” Then he leaves, shutting the door with a soft click.

Elsa’s mouth drops open in shock at her father’s declaration while Hans takes a moment to process the words.

When he finally does, Hans drops his head and cradles it in his hands. He stands there a few moments when a small knock occurs. “You can come out now.” He states.

The secret door carefully opens and Elsa peaks out just to make sure that it's just them. Once she sees it's just the both of them, she breaks out into a small sprint to her lover. Hans catches Elsa's by her waist and they spin together, with him lifting her a few feet in the air.

Hans brings her back down close to him and they share a passion filled kiss. After a few minutes, they come for air, placing their foreheads together.

“So…. I guess you heard all of that?” Hans asks teasingly.

Elsa lets out a string of giggles and nods to answer. “Mhm.” she murmurs.

“Well, I might as well propose to you now in private since you already know my little secret!” Hans replies, getting down on one knee and pulling out the small box.

“Will you, Elsa Caroline Nicolette Nikolai, marry me?” He opens the box to reveal a winter blue diamond on a single band with two small clear diamonds on it's two sides.

Elsa’s breath catches at seeing the ring in all it's beauty. She has never seen her mother and grandmother’s ring before and seeing it for the first time, makes her cry and overjoyed all at once.

Hans gets a bit nervous, not predicting this reaction from her even though she knew about him proposing.

“Is that a yes?” He speaks up a timid voice. She lets out a tearful yes and nods. He breathes out a sigh of relief and slips the ring on to her shaking left hand.

He stands up and hugs her close, gently swaying to comfort her. Elsa's sobs turn into sniffles and buries her face into Hans’ chest and she automatically relaxes.

A nagging thought soon interrupts her peacefulness. You have to tell him. This is the only chance you two have alone.

Her eyes fly open while they are still holding each other. “Hans?” Elsa asks. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, my love?” He murmurs in response.

She takes a deep breath and tells him the life changing words. “I'm pregnant, Hans.”

“You're pregnant..” He mumbles with eyes closed, the words not fully registering in his mind.

“You're pregnant…” Hans says once again, now adjusting his head to sitting on top of Elsa and opening his eyes.

“You're- Wait, What?” He says a third time, the statement finally clicking in his brain. He pulls away from her to look her in the eyes.

She gives him a small shoulder shrug and sheepish smile. “Surprise?”

He stands there with an agape expression, holding her arms. “Are you sure that you're pregnant?” Hans stammers out.

“Yes.” Elsa says in a miniscule voice. “But I also went to the village midwife in secret who confirmed it and I paid her to keep quiet about it!” She suddenly spills out. Elsa clamps a hand over her running mouth with widened eyes.

Hans lets go of her arms and walks to the windows of the room. He tangles his hair nervously between his fingers then he suddenly stops.

“How long have you known?” Hans asks.

“I suspected that I was when I felt nauseous during our outings but didn't confirm it till last month. The midwife says that I'm around three months along already.” Elsa explains.

Hans doesn't respond and continues to stare out the windows.

“I know you have every right to be upset at me.” She says. “I was the one who started the events that night, not you.” Elsa's eyes cast downwards in shame. She wrings her hands out of habit, frost glazing them over.

“I'm not upset at you, Elsa.” Hans breaks his silence. “It's just that when your Father told me that he received suitor invites for you and your sister, he brushed them off as men who were seeking power and overthrowing both of you. And with you now pregnant, he just might suspect that!” He turns to face Elsa and ends his outburst with a loud huff.

“I know Hans. I heard all of it.” Elsa replies. “But I will tell him that I was the one who asked you to sleep with me, not the other way around.”

“Even if you do, your father will suspect that I just lied to his face and pressed you into marriage because you're pregnant with my child!” Hans says with a slightly raised voice. “Your Father is a king, Elsa. he knows that royals in this day and age have children for only one reason, power.”

"He would exile me, Elsa." He goes on. "Or worse, hang me for treason! Plus the Southern Isles would be held accountable as well! I would have to leave Arendelle in order save my, your's and our child's reputation."

Elsa stands there fuming with rage, arms crossed over her chest. “So you're implying that you would break off this courtship, sail away to some unknown land, and leave me alone with our child rather than trying to reason with my Father?!”

Hans, overwhelmed with frustration, yells back. “Well, maybe I should!”

Elsa gasps at his harsh response.

“Then I don't need this anymore.” She ends the sentence by throwing her maternal ring on the floor and turning back towards Hans.

She crumples to the floor with uncontrollable sobbing and starts a small rapid flurry of snow around her.

Hans grabs the ring as soon as it lands in front of him. He takes one good look at Elsa and unconsciously runs to her, crouching down to her level and hugs her from behind.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.” He whispers in her ear, rocking her oh-so gently.

The two of them stay in their position for at least ten minutes. Hans ceases his whispering apologies and rubs her back to calm her down.

Tears streak down his face as well, seeing the woman he loves so much, hurt from his harsh words. He props his head on her shoulder and plants a comforting kiss on it.

“I should be the one that apologizes.” Elsa speaks through her soft weeping. She wipes away her tears haphazardly. “This is all my fault. Maybe you should just leave me and let me deal with all this.”

Hans catches her hands in mid-action and holds them in a loving grasp. “Elsa, it's no one’s fault.” He says, releasing one of her hands and opens his own to reveal the ring she threw. “And you see this ring? It's one of the many symbols that represents that we are a team and will get through anything together. That includes our child as well.”

She nods in agreement and relaxes her body into Hans’. “I just hope that this child will know that they will always be loved and acknowledged no matter what occurred before their birth” She whispers.

He kisses her hair again in agreement, slipping the ring back on to her finger and places his hand back into hers once again. They sit together in silence, soaking in the comfort of one another. At the same time, the two pairs of hands unknowingly cradle Elsa's bump.

To put her more at ease, Hans plants a line of kisses down her face and neck, sending Elsa into a fit of laughter and in a happier mood.

“Hans! Your sideburns are so ticklish!” She says, trying unsuccessfully to avoid his silly facial hair.

“Oh, are they now?” He titters back and continues to plant kisses on her skin to tickle her even more.

She goes on giggling and while doing so, she releases her hands from his to create a calm and steady snowfall above the both of them

“Elsa! You're getting snow in my hair now!” He jokingly mocks her.

They both burst into bouts of laughter at their similar actions, still holding each other close.

Elsa tugs gently on of Hans’ arms to signal that she wants to stand up and he helps her do so. She dissipates the snowfall above them and brushes the small flakes off of her dress with Hans doing the same. Elsa waves away the remaining snow and takes a deep breath.

“I think we should go tell my parents now.” She tells him, wringing her hands again.

A terrified expression crosses his face. “That you're pregnant?” He asks in a wavering voice.

She closes the gap between them by snuggling into his chest and lets out a laugh. “No, silly. That we're officially courting now.” He lets out a breath without realizing that he was holding for so long.

“I plan to tell them about the baby in a couple weeks, probably right before you start your navy drills.” She says, her voice muffled.

“Elsa?” Hans timidly inquires.

“Hm?” She hums back.

“You do know that your Father runs said navy drills, right?” He states. “And I highly expect him to try to murder me during those drills for getting his daughter and heir to throne pregnant.”

“Oh!” She pulls back from his chest to address him. “He won't try that! Maybe try to injure you. But we'll be there together when I tell him so don't worry about it!” Elsa gives her Prince a small smile. “You'll have this Princess to protect you!”

Hans lets out a shaky laugh. “Okay.. If you say so.”

Elsa stands on her tiptoes, placing a small kiss on his nose then his lips. “Thank you, Hans.” She places her feet back down on the ground and moves to be at his side.

The simple action makes Hans smile and kisses her back, stroking her baby bump at same time. He holds out a hooked arm to escort his future wife.

“Together?” He asks.

She confidently hooks her arm through his and grins.

“Together.” She replies.

They walk to the door and Hans turns the knob to open it. He lets Elsa lead the way and she slightly drags him into the hallway. The both of them break into a sprint and chuckle at their silliness.

They reach the end of the hallway where her parents’ room lies. Elsa knocks three times on the barely ajar door and waits for a response.

“Come in!” Her mother's voice rings from inside.

Elsa and Hans give each a smile one last time before heading in, ready to announce their future together.

The End.

--

some ending notes;

no, this does not exist in my helsa one shot series universe :(( sorry but I might do something similar if y’all give me some prompts to work with.

 I really don’t know what are official signs & symptoms of pregnancy so what I wrote was just a quick look and guess so pls don’t get maddd.

If you guys want me to do a follow up one shot to this, let me know! I’m always up for a challenge. 

I will upload this to Ao3 and FF.net later today when I have time. (its currently midnight right now and Im half awake plus hangry.) 

Thank y’all for the love and support <3

[excorcismic]

    ❛ and my eyes are DAMP from the words you left , ringing in my head                            when you broke my chest . . . ❜

                                                   ❛ I’M STILL YOUR ZELDA . ❜                                                           playlist . plotting call . listen as you read !

the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to, reflecting back a spitting image of COURTNEY EATON  -  but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of THE SAVIOR ; BLINDING LIGHT AS YOU PROTECT YOUR FINAL HOPE strikes you.  perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse. you reassure yourself  -  you’re ( PRINCESS ) ZELDA KING ! ,  a TWENTY-TWO YEAR-OLD BIOLOGY STUDENT / FLORIST EMPLOYEE whose virtue lies in your + INTELLIGENT & + GOOD-HEARTED , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite - INSECURE & - PESSIMISTIC ,  and you’re associated with THE PRESSURE OF APOCALYPSE ON YOUR SHOULDERS , THE BLINDING LIGHT OF AN EXORCISM - A CLEANSING OF EVIL , GOLDEN TEARS FALLING INTO COLD & UNKIND WATERS OF PRAYER by those around you.  suddenly ,  however ,  you’ve found GOLDEN BRACELETS on your person - was that always there ? from the moment you leave the funhouse,  memories from your life in THE LEGEND OF ZELDA have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you .  you can almost hear I OF THE STORM by OF MONSTERS AND MEN following in your wake. ( she/they &  genderfluid )

                  this is the story of a very powerful being .

I . IF I COULD FACE THEM, IF I COULD MAKE AMENDS WITH ALL MY SHADOWS . . .

zelda king is born to a prestigious family with years of alucard history in their bloodlines . their father , speaking the word of the lord with a tongue of gold , and their mother , speaking the scripts of the law with a tongue of silver . they’re comfortable & happy - and the bundle they hold in their arms is the one that will carry along their glory .

so , simply , a child does not grow allowed to be a child - nothing but the best , that is what zelda king has been told to be from a young age .

from the moment she can enroll in school , she enters an expensive private school . from the moment she can speak , she is instructed to help her father with sunday mass . from the moment she can walk , she is sent to try out every single sport or physical activity until she finds one that suits her fancy ( she finds it in fencing . ) and it’s decided from an early age that she’ll either go into lord or law , golden tongue or silver . nothing else . and she is to get nothing but the best grades , as a prodigy is the bare minimum for what a king should be .

II . I’D BOW MY HEAD , AND WELCOME THEM . . .

zelda king has no say in the matter when it comes to her life - she doesn’t grow up with many friends that she chooses on her own , but she does have a few that her parents approve of . she doesn’t do much outside of the activities expected of her , but she likes to watch the other kids play & mess around . studying , fencing , praying - it seems like that’s all she knows .

but there’s an instance where her parents are out of town , and zelda’s aunt rachel is the one they ask to babysit . and aunt rachel introduces the young child to a new concept : fun . fun is something that every child should prioritize , according to her , and the week that she is gone does zelda begin to learn what she’s missing out on .

her aunt first takes her on a trip to the park , and from then on zelda is enamored by the outside world she has yet to see up close . her aunt teaches her about flowers & nature and they spend the afternoon trudging through muddy grass and getting themselves dirty with the earth around them , making ‘food’ out of the dandelions and weed , picking wildflowers and braiding them together . the next day , aunt rachel takes zelda to the book store - and she purchases a bunch of books on flora & fauna with bright pictures yet lots of words . as her aunt bakes cookies , zelda points out everything she likes . 

bedtime stories consist of stories about gods & goddesses and princesses , knights , monsters . a few of them lead the young child to want to learn more , and back they go to the book store , where aunt rachel gives her books on greek , norse , egyptian mythos and more . as her aunt tends to a bundle of roses on the kitchen table , zelda tells her how cool it’d be to be like athena or freya .

but week-long vacations last for a week and not forever , and as much as zelda wishes it was different , aunt rachel has to leave again . but even as she’s put through her usual activities and rigorous studies once more , she’s found a new love in other things : the world around her , present and past . her parents shut the door on her to go to bed and she pulls out a flashlight , so instead of sleeping , she reads nothing but the books her aunt gave her .

III . BUT I FEEL IT BURNING , LIKE WHEN THE WINTER WIND STOPS MY BREATHING . . . > ( tw : maternal death )

it’s years still of endless pushing & pursuing but here is zelda still immersed in her passions to keep her from falling - as it feels like pillars of expectations are on her shoulders . she’s atlas , but while she holds the sky she thinks of the earth around her & the stories and fairytales and the pain becomes less and less .

of course . . . that does not save her from the pain that comes with a lost loved one .

mrs . king is laid to rest when zelda is seventeen ; the scholarly child is already overcome with grief , and as her father holds her hand while sobbing , they recover together at a slow pace . things are quiet as they calm , but over a few months as zelda tells him of her acceptance into college - he tells her that she must go into law to make her mother proud . it was the woman’s dying wish , after all , and her law firm will be zelda’s when she’s ready .

but . . . that is not what zelda wants . she wants to go into science ; to research and study life around her , and to explore and see more of the wonders beyond alucard . she doesn’t want to be in a stuffy courtroom , she wishes to run around and study the beauty that populates this planet . but when she assigns her major as biology , her father fumes . the only way she can appease him is promising she’ll minor in law , and she does so , but there’s nothing but endless frustration .

she loves her mom , and she wants to respect her mom’s memory - but she should not toss away her own person to do so .

as a college student , zelda sits back and reflects on her past two decades of allowing her parents to shape her into someone they want rather than what she wants to be . only her aunt has allowed her to be her own person , and at this point she realizes that she only know a bit about herself . she hasn’t had much of an opportunity to discover who she is , but she knows what she likes - science & history .

she sits in her college dorm , alone at her desk , thinking to herself about how she’s an adult now ; she is free , and the only thing that can allow her to still cave into what others want is herself . she makes a vow to start moving into the directions she wants ; she has only known herself to be by what others think - the whispers of little miss perfect and the alucard prodigy are common epithets . and she is proud that she’s intelligent , but she’d rather try and make her own path and get to know herself better .

so she promises to discover zelda king , and not the perfect princess , the goody-two-shoes , the next in the bloodline . there is a slumbering power that resides in this person . . . a slumbering power that she’ll unlock by learning who she is .

IV . ARE YOU REALLY GONNA LOVE ME WHEN I’M GONE ??

she still needs to slowly stave from twenty years of people pleasing - baby steps . the expectations she’s under are still heavy and she has yet to figure out how she wants to free herself of them .

she does know a few things : one , she does genuinely love knowledge and learning . scholarly pursuits are her passions , especially those having to do with scientific and historical studies . museums and exhibits are her favorite places as well as botanical gardens and open parks .

two , she doesn’t hate everything her parents have introduced to her . fencing is something she’s still active in ; maybe that’s something that comes with the pride of being a champion , but she doesn’t mind it .

three , she wants to explore not only the world around her , but the people . even people that her father would never allow inside the house - in fact , that only DRAWS zelda to them . she wants to expand her horizons , do away with the perfection reputation she’s gained . she is still . . . new , but she is determined to shake the perception . 

her talents are not only known in the social circle of her family - given the fact her father is a local preacher and her mother was a popular & well-trusted lawyer , their prodigy child only had her own reputation . from fencing champion to star student to trilingualist to golden choir child , she’s either loved or hated by those who strictly only know her by her epithets . it’s . . . irritating , to say the least .

she doesn’t believe in religion & law sours her , even though she does as well in the latter as much as she does in biology . she has a natural gift for speaking & presenting , but would rather engage in the environment of the outdoors and the laboratories than the courtroom . 

and . . . sometimes it is easy to tell that she is cracking under the stress and pressure she’s been carrying for years . a kind person & an intellectual with gifts , talent , skill - but she still needs to learn it’s okay to breathe . she can let herself breathe now . it’s alright .

some chances to breathe come - such as her job at the florist ; she can spat off a million facts about each flower , each succulent , each plant . she loves the arrangement of bouquets , the look on a young teen’s face as she fixes their corsage . flowers are a gift to the world zelda can’t help but appreciate . 

she also loves the library ; still sometimes more focused on books of her passions than her studies . she knows almost every greek , egyptian , norse myth by heart , and has read almost every book on those shelves at least twice . 

twenty two years old , genderfluid , pansexual . passionate in all things biology , history , flowers , and mythos . still a lot to discover , but . . . zelda is becoming quite fond of the person she’s finding herself to be . perhaps one of the smartest people in alucard , but certainly with a heart as big as her brain .

                                                         and they call me under . . . 

there is someone . someone with blood in her mouth , dirt on her cheeks , but herpalms glow with the golden light of the heavens & her veins run with the divine ichor of gods . she looks at zelda from the other side of the mirror with damp & reddened eyes , but as her chin rises with confidence , there’s maybe a smile of COCKINESS and belief that no matter what evil comes towards her , she’s got this . and zelda . . . as confused as she is , leaves the house of mirrors with the same thing . she’s a being of the gods ; ichor flows through her veins and every word from her mouth is from the tongues of the heavens . and there is power that resides in every action , every line spoken . . . she is both blessed & a blessing , and she will do good things here .

[sixqueendom]

One-Shot: All My Love, Catherine

This one-shot was inspired by this drawing by the talented Zara (@you-need-a-jello-shot). It depicts a sleeping Anne and Kitty in front of a laptop in bed, however before I read the caption the drawing automatically made me think of Cathy and Kitty, so I decided to roll with it! Side-note: I know from doing research that Thomas had apparently asked for Elizabeth's hand in marriage within a month of Henry's death, before being rejected and going on to marry Catherine. I decided to overlook this fact for the sake of this fanfic, wanting to keep focus on Cathy's feelings for him (it's not clear whether she ever knew about Thomas's proposal to Elizabeth). A huge thank you to Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for being my dedicated Beta-reader for this fic and for all your help and support throughout! She deserves full credit for Cathy's love letter, which she helped me write in a mix of modern/Tudor script, through looking into Catherine Parr's actual letters. As always, the link to read on AO3 is included below if you’d prefer to read on there.

AO3

Fanfic Masterpost

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

Cathy had known it would be a bad idea.

 And yet, here she was, wide awake at 3am, engrossed in an online article. Realising she wasn’t getting much writing done, she’d had every intention of going to sleep, resigning from her desk to the warmth of her bed. That was, until she’d let her mind drift momentarily to the past once more and flipped open her laptop, spurred on by a silent yearning to see their name, to read those familiar words and remember. As if those words would be enough to satiate her grief, to bring her some comfort. Oh, how she regretted her decision now, as a solitary tear trailed down her cheek; that ever familiar ache, that hollow emptiness, forming in her chest.

 It was then that she heard a hesitant knock at the door, as the youngest of the Queens tentatively poked her head in. Kitty knew that she could always rely on Cathy to be awake at this ungodly hour of the morning, and occasionally sought out the writer for solace when she was struggling to fall asleep, not wanting to disturb Anne. 

 “Hey,” Cathy said softly, giving a weak smile as she quickly brushed away the tear, praying Kitty didn’t see. “Can’t sleep?”

 The younger girl shook her head as she approached the bed. 

 “I have never understood how you can sit up reading and writing at this hour…”

 Eyes wide, her heart skipping a beat, Cathy frantically closed the article she’d been reading. 

 But not quickly enough.

 She didn’t miss the flash of concern in Kitty’s eyes.

 “Cathy…”

 But already, even with her head bowed, Kitty could see the writer’s lip trembling, her hands clenched into fists as she struggled to fight the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. As she let out a sob, Kitty immediately slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her in a hug. 

 “I can’t help it. I just…”

 Cathy felt like a schoolgirl, caught in the act. What a disappointment she was. An immense sense of guilt suddenly weighed down on her shoulders and she squirmed slightly at Kitty’s touch, feeling disgusted with herself. 

 “It’s okay,” Kitty reassured, rubbing her arm. “You don’t need to justify anything to me. You have every right to miss him.”

Cathy had to admit she was surprised by Kitty’s mature reaction. Sure, the girl was an adult, but she’d only ever experienced men as predators. Cathy didn’t think Kitty would be able to comprehend how she felt, not about Thomas. But the reaction, though calming, did nothing to quell her disappointment in herself, her frustration.

 “Do I?” Cathy’s face twisted into a grimace. “After everything he did?”

 It was somewhat of an emotional tug-of-war for Cathy, something she found herself constantly fighting with. Of course, undoubtedly she missed him, her true love. Nothing could ever dispel the love she had for him. Yet, that love was something she’d always felt guilty about. It felt wrong, disrespectful even, to yearn for him. Despite showing such care and compassion for her, he’d also committed some admittedly wicked deeds, earning him an egregious reputation with her fellow five Queens, all of whom despised him to varying degrees. If they knew what she was doing, they would be appalled. How could she possibly still harbour feelings for a man who was so cruel, particularly to one specific girl in his care? 

 Yet, despite all that, here was sweet Kitty, being so understanding and impartial. True, she had never had any involvement with him, but surely she felt some discomfort on the subject, given it had concerned Anne’s beloved daughter? Everyone knew she would come to her cousin’s defence. 

 Realising how selfish she was being, Cathy made a feeble attempt to compose herself, exhaling shakily. After all, it had been Kitty who was seeking her comfort.

 “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks.

 The younger girl only nuzzled in closer, resting her head on the writer’s shoulder.

 “Don’t be silly. Your feelings are valid, Cathy. You’re allowed to miss him just as much as you do Mae. You’re allowed to grieve. Just like Jane is about Edward, or Catherine about Mary.��

 Cathy noted how she’d carefully missed out Anne and Elizabeth in a bid to be sensitive.

 “But they were innocent.” Cathy gripped her bed cover, balling her hands into fists once more, gravel in her voice.

 Even soft, kind words couldn’t douse the burning resentment in her chest.

 Kitty took a moment to contemplate. She couldn’t forget that, despite the events that had transpired later, Cathy had been devoted to Thomas well before Henry appeared on the scene. She had fallen head over heels in love with him, yet, upon Kitty’s execution, Henry had found himself requiring another Queen. And that honour - if you could ever call it that - fell to Cathy. She’d had no choice in the matter, unless she wanted a swift exit via the executioner’s axe, in which case, there’d have been no hope of reuniting with Thomas later on whatsoever.

 She’d married Henry to survive. 

 After the King’s death, Cathy had finally been reunited with her love and her life seemed so much brighter, filled with so much promise. They’d started making plans for their future together. But fate had other ideas. Just days after delivering their beautiful daughter, Cathy would succumb to what would later be known as childbed fever, the very same fate that took Jane. Once again, Cathy had been ripped away from Thomas. Only this time, it had been permanent.  

 It was just never meant to be. Life could be so cruel and twisted like that.

 Despite all of this, Cathy hated herself for missing him and their potential future together, all the “what could have beens”. So, she locked herself away in her bedroom, where she searched tirelessly for any information on her little girl, and, like tonight, anything to remind her of Thomas.

 Kitty rested a gentle hand on hers.

 “He may have done some bad things in the past, but it’s not like you condone his actions. Besides, you can’t keep dwelling on what happened; it’s done now and there’s nothing that you can do about it. It was almost five hundred years ago! This is meant to be our fresh start.”

 When the Queens had initially been reincarnated, relations with Anne had been stiff and difficult. Cathy had tried to avoid contact with her as much as possible, distancing herself and trying not to initiate unnecessary conversations, fully understanding her bitter resentment. From the corner of her eye, she’d often caught Anne casting a sharp glare at her, and she’d always thought she deserved it. Eventually, Anne had confronted her, throwing all of her feelings about Cathy and Thomas out into the open, tearing open old wounds. Cathy had acknowledged all the terrible things that Thomas, and she, though unintentionally, had done. Much to her relief, they had called a truce and decided to put their differences aside. Now they had a rather amiable friendship, although deep down Cathy knew Anne would never be able to fully trust her. Not that anyone could blame her. How could she expect her to after what had happened to Elizabeth? What Cathy had allowed to happen?

 That autumn day still haunted her; she could still see Thomas struggling with Elizabeth as they fought over one of her dresses. It hadn’t taken long for him to overpower her, snatching the dress from her grasp and cruelly shredding it into pieces, all whilst the girl sobbed. It made her feel sick now, having stood and witnessed it all, restraining Elizabeth as her husband ruined her favourite gown. She could still hear the girl’s distraught cries echoing in her ears. 

 She’d never forgiven herself.

But it didn’t stop her from missing him. How, when she had served in Princess Mary’s household, they’d exchanged love letters; how’d she’d look forward to receiving them, her heart fluttering as she carefully opened each one, reading his sweet words, over and over. The letters inevitably stopped once she married Henry. Thomas was consequently removed from court and sent away to war. She had desperately wanted to write to him, but it was just too risky. Any hint to suggest promiscuity and she’d be next in line to be executed; she’d learnt that lesson from Kitty’s unfortunate demise. Yet, Thomas had still waited for her. He waited four years for King Henry’s death, to be reunited with her.

 Despite Kitty’s reassurances, Cathy found it impossible to forget, to put what happened aside and focus on her, in the here and now. It was true: they had clearly been reincarnated to have a second chance at life, since each of their previous lives had been corrupted by Henry and his abuse. But with a new life came old memories. They had never faded. Everything remained vivid, as clear as if they’d only happened recently. And Cathy clung to them dearly; she didn’t want to forget. She never wanted to forget the beautiful daughter she’d brought into the world, but never got the chance to see grow up. She never wanted to forget Thomas, his kindly face and sweet letters. She didn’t want to forget the blissful life they had started to create together, before her untimely passing. How could she, when it all made her who she was today? Thomas had shown her what it was to be a true wife, to be loved unconditionally. Mae, her sweet little girl, ultimately made her a mother, albeit for the shortest of time, but also drove her motivation to write and research. With Thomas, she had finally been able to breathe. For too long, she had been silenced by Henry, stifled. Unable to be herself. But Thomas had loved her for who she was.

 Exhausted, Cathy released a weary sigh.

 “I just wish it wasn’t so hard,”

 After a moment, she wriggled free from Kitty’s comforting touch, delving underneath her bed. She lifted up a loose floorboard, revealing a stash of neatly folded papers. Letters.

 As Cathy clutched one in her hand, slumping back on her bed beside Kitty, the girl recoiled a little. She’d already guessed what they were, who they were to and how personal they would be. But to her surprise, Cathy offered her one.

 “I sometimes write to him or Mae when I can’t sleep,” she admitted, her lip twitching. 

 When Kitty didn’t move, Cathy gave a reassuring smile.

 “It’s okay. You can read it.”

 Kitty tentatively took the letter and unfolded it carefully. As she began to read Cathy’s elegant writing, she felt a lump form in her throat.

My Dearest Thomas,

 As Lord Tennyson once wrote: “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”. I make likeness with him when it comes to my feelings for you, for I regret not one moment we were together. I was truly blessed by the time we had, though it may not have been as long as we desired. Though, I do ask myself, would forever have been long enough? I don’t think so. I am, therefore, eternally grateful for the time we had, to have been blessed with your love and kindness for so long. 

 Every day I awake to birdsong, and I think of you. How I would rise eagerly as early as the sun, waiting for your letters. Your words, written not only in ink but most truly impressed on the heart, were treasured by me.

 Now, I wake and realise, with most wondrous sadness, that you are no longer with me.

Some comfort I may take through these letters, as they impress upon me a sense of calm, a grounding force amongst a chaotic world. The 21st century is breathtaking and frightening, somehow all together. How fast, loud, and massive the world has become cannot be written, nor relayed in terms you might understand. Yet, the sun still rises and falls, and the stars still shine. I only wish you hither, in my arms, to share in these beauties. 

 I can only pray we are reunited again. This time, I hope it is for eternity.

 All my love, Catherine

 As she read the last sentence, Kitty sniffed loudly, moved to tears. Cathy’s words were so eloquent and beautiful, resonating deeply with her. Quite frankly, it broke her heart. Was this true love?

 She finally got the courage to glance up at Cathy, who was still staring, glassy eyed and longingly, at the letter in her hand. As if she thought reading her words would make them become real. Kitty solemnly rested her head on Cathy’s shoulder.

 “You’ll see him again, someday,” she murmured. “I know you will.”

 At that, she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. 

 In the darkness, Cathy nodded, nuzzling close as she finally found peace. 

 She found herself running through sunflower fields, the sun streaming down upon her, the warm heat of summer on her skin, a little girl’s squeal of laughter in the air. Every so often, she caught a flash of a white dress billowing in the breeze; black curly hair in pigtails. 

 “Can’t catch me!” the girl cried with a giggle. 

 As she reached the edge of the field, Cathy stopped in her tracks, holding her breath. Only now, in the stillness, could she hear the birdsong. And there, in front of her, their little girl atop his shoulders, was Thomas.

  Her family.

Finally, she was home.

[wldthoughtz]

Ours.

Finn Balor (Demon)

**Warning this is extremely intense! Please read at your own risk! (Smut/Violence/Blood/Dark)**

Requested by:Anonymous

Demon Balor hurts reader(Smut) and Finn is devastated.

I'd only just stepped into my locker room when I immediately noticed the cold air circling the room along the flickering lights of the vanity table and overhead light. Shivering I wrapped my arms around my almost bare body as I made my way over to the vanity to get my throw blanket. I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard the door slam shut behind me.

Glancing into the mirror, I almost screamed when I saw Finn standing in front of the door with a possessed look on his face. “Fi-Finn?” I breathed out hopefully, but my body went cold and stood paralyzed when I saw him shake his head ‘no’. I took in a deep gulp of air as I watched his eyes pierce into my soul.

He reached back and locked the door, still gazing at me with dark black eyes. “He touched you…” He snarled out softly in an all too familiar dangerously low voice, that almost made my legs give out.

A look of horror crossed my face as I realized why he was here. During my mixed tag team match just moments ago, Dolph had gotten too handsy with me. And while it was something that he did often that I couldn’t stand, I prayed that Finn wouldn’t see it, because I was terrified of what he would do to him. Well…not Finn but…

I gasped in panic as I finally noticed the splotches of blood scattered across his chest. And I knew that the blood didn’t belong to him… “W-Wh-What happ-ened?” I stuttered softly as I turned to finally face him.

A loud gasp left my lips when in the blink of an eye he was right behind me, he grabbed me suddenly, turning me around causing a startled shriek to leave my lips. His clawed hands wrapped around the front of my ring top before he tore it completely off my body, freeing my breasts. He squeezed them roughly causing me to wince and the feeling of his sharp nails dinning into my soft skin.

With a deep growl he forced me over to the vanity table, pressing his body up close to mine to where I could feel his prominent bulge, and wrapping his left hand around my throat, making me whimper in response. I could see him behind me in the large mirror lust and hunger burning in his unusually dark eyes. “No one touches what is mine… So, I made him pay,” He breathed into my ear. "You belong to me…and only me… Don't you, princess?"

He squeezed my throat causing me to choke and I just nodded before letting out a soft moan. “Yes,” I wheezed out softly, feeling the heat grow from between my thighs.

"Good girl," He growled against my ear.

He used his right hand to rip down my ring shorts with force, while his left stayed firmly around my throat, just tight enough to make breathing difficult but not cutting it off completely. A shudder racked through my body when his hand slid into my lace panties and he quickly found my clit. His fingers worked it harshly back and forth, slowly at first and then with more urgency, that had me gasping for air.

My body began to respond almost immediately to him…just like it always did. I let out a soft moan and I felt him begin to grind his hard cock against my ass. He slid his hand lower unto my panties and slid two fingers into me roughly causing me to wince.

“Such a good girl," He growled pumping his fingers hard into me. “No wonder Finn tries to keep you all to himself,” He snarls pulling me up by my neck no my back was flush against his chest.

“Please!” I gasped desperately, clenching my eyes as my hips were moving back and forth in time with his fingers.

He let out a deep growled as he worked his fingers harder into me and I could hear how wet I was for him. He used his thumb against my clit, causing me to shudder and my knees to buckle a bit. I bit my lip to stifle a moan. He suddenly pulled his hand away from my dripping sex, and I felt him reach between our bodies and wrap his hand around the crotch of my panties before snapping them completely off my body. The stinging he left behind made me moan softly and felt him remove his ring gear. He pulled me tight to his body again and I felt his bare cock hard and hot between my ass. He returned his hand between my thighs and resumed fingering me mercilessly while he slid his hard on between my dripping slit. I hated the effect that he had on my body and I hated myself for always accepting of him, even after all of the times Finn begged me to stay away.

"Mmmm, fuck, I’ve missed your tight pussy." He moaned as his fingers continued their work against my clit. The pleasure was too much, I could feel an orgasm building. He was pumping his cock against my soaking slit harshly as his fingers flew across my clit. I looked up at the mirror and saw him looking directly at me with a mixture of hunger and lust. He owned me in ways that Finn didn’t and part of me loved it.

"Ooooh fuck, ahhh fuck," I moaned through gritted teeth as the orgasm hit me hard with the force of a tsunami.

My body shuddered and tightened as the waves of pleasure continued to wash over me. In the mirror I saw the lust and pleasure in his dark eyes as he watched me come undone. Suddenly he forced me to bend forward and I felt the head of his hard cock at the entrance to my still sensitive sex.

I let out in a long moan and instinctively started to push back, feeling him stretch me almost painfully.

The head of his cock slipped past my lips, "All mine,” He groaned deeply as he forced his cock deeper into me causing me to hiss, "So fucking tight, just made for me." He snarled as he began pumping back and forth forcing more of his cock into me until he was fully deep in my cunt giving me no time to adjust. I had my head down grunting and moaning as he filled me with his cock. He reached down and grabbed my hair forcing me to look up at him through the mirror as his other hand circled my stomach.

"I own you," He grunted, digging his sharp nails into waist, “Finn could never handle you like I can!" He snarled, moving his hips fucking me in and out with his big cock causing me to whimper out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Finn!” I cried out when his sharp nails pierced the skin of my waist, drawing blood. Fear evident in my scream when he bit into my neck harshly, and immediately I felt the trickling of blood glide down my neck before he licked some of it up with his long tongue.

"Did you think he'd come out and save you from me?" he asked humorously, digging his fingers deeper into my skin as he pounded into me feverishly. "He’s always so worried about me hurting you…little does he know that you want me… even more than you want him." He stated, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he lapped at the oozing blood.

“No,” I grunt out and feel him still his trusts as he pulled almost all the way out of me.

"What was that?" He asked in his eerily calm voice.

“I love Finn!” I heaved out trying to catch my breath as I gazed into his fiery eyes in the mirror. “I’ll always want Finn!” I breathed out, fear growing in the pit of my stomach as I watched his eyes go murderous.

The room was completely silent before I let out a loud scream when he trusted hard into me with a powerful stroke that knocked the breath out of my lungs.

"Ahh," I grunted as He pounded my cunt at an unforgiving pace.

I moaned at the feeling of his big thick cock hitting just the right places. I knew I couldn't hold back any more. I dropped my head to the desk, but He grabbed my hair again pulling my head back up. I grunted softly as my pussy clamped around his cock.

He kept pumping into me deep and hard, pulling my hair forcing me to watch us in the mirror as I came screaming out.

“Mine!” He growled loudly as he pumped his cum deep into me. The flickering lights of the vanity suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass flying everywhere, some even piercing my skin making me yelp out in pain.

I collapsed onto the vanity below me panting heavily as I winced when I rested my cheek on cool, glass covered surface.  I stayed there too tired to move, still recovering from my orgasm and slightly wincing from the pain that radiated off of different parts of my body. The room grew quiet, the only sound audible was the heavy breathing from me and the faint sound of cheering fans out in the arena.

Suddenly a searing pain came from my back, making me cry out, tears welled in my eyes as I felt the excruciating pain of his sharp claws digging into the skin. “Stop!” I sobbed pleading as I felt him glide his talons in different directions on my back.

His only response was a dark chuckle as the pain in my back moved from side to side as I felt warm liquid running down my back. I was crying and wailing at the feeling of his knife-like nails slicing through my flesh. They pain became too much and my body numbed as soft sobs left my lips. He had never hurt me like this, he was always rough with me but never like this. “All done,” he hummed. “You were such a good girl for me,” he stated approvingly as his nails finally left my back. “Now everyone... including Finn, will know who you belong to.” His stated proudly as his loud demonic laugh filled the room before the lights above stopped flickering, and the room was no longer cold.

I heard a soft groan from behind me and I immediately tensed. “What the fuck!” I heard Finn gasp. I felt him slide out of me and I immediately winced at the burning pain it felt behind. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Baby?” automatically I knew it was Finn, “Oh my fucking-Fuck!” I heard the concern and panic dripping from his voice as he pulled me into his arms, my eyes were blurry from the tears, but I could see the worry in his eyes as he sat me down on the couch before wrapping me in my throw blanket. Through my sobs heard him talking into a phone about an emergency.

“Finn,” I managed to breath out softly, “It hurts.” I sobbed silently as I watched him rush over to me after he slid on his ring shorts.

“Fuck baby! I’m so sorry! Fuck!” He mumbled out quickly as his eyes welled with tears.

“He-I fucking hurt you! Fuck!” He cried into my lap as he took my hand. “It’s all my fucking fault!” He yelled out in frustration.

“Baby it’s not yo-” I felt my eyes getting really heavy, I heard Finn’s frantic voice in front of me, but it sounded so far away as the blackness consumed my vision.

______________________________________________

The constant beeping of machines was the first thing that I heard as I began to wake up.

I groaned as I felt the twinge of pain as I tried to move around.

“Easy princess,” I heard the familiar Irish voice whisper.

Fluttering my eyes, they adjusted to the dimly lit hospital room before looking around and landing on Finn who was seated on a chair right next to the bed as he held my hand. “Finn what happened? Where am I?” I asked him still dazed as I looked into his bloodshot eyes.

A frown made its way to his face as he stood up to sit on the edge of the bed closer to me. “I hurt you sweetheart,” He mumbled sadly and immediately the memories came flooding back to me as I glanced down and saw my bandaged chest. “I fucking hurt you,” He stuttered out through clenched teeth as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Baby... you didn’t hurt me. It wasn’t you. This isn’t your faul-” I whispered out, taking his hand into mine.

“All of this is my fault!” He snarled pulling away from me, “I should’ve stayed away from you that day I first saw you at NXT! I should’ve stayed far away and never let him anywhere near you!!” He growled looking down at the ground angrily. “You’re in here because of me! Because I was so fucking selfish that I put you in danger just to keep you close to me!” He yelled out clutching his hair in anger. “I can’t be with you anymore! I can’t put you through this pain ever again!”

“Finn stop! This is not your fault! I love you and I want to be with you no matter what! This doesn’t change anything! Please.” I cried out, taking his hand in mine. “I chose to be with you! You didn’t make me stay with you! I let him get close to me, even though you told me not to! This is my fault!” I stated in a loud shaky voice. “You’re not leaving me for something that you didn’t even do!” I cried out loudly.

Finn looked at me with tears in his eyes as he ripped out his phone from his pocket before unlocking it and pushing it into my arms.

Glancing at the screen a gasp of horror left my lips as I gazed at the image. It was a gruesome picture of my back and read out the five distinct letters...B.A.L.O.R... He had carved his name into my back deeply knowing that it would scar and be on my skin forever. “Finn...” I whispered softly as I felt my bottom lip begin to wobble.

Finn had a broken look on his face as he pulled me into his arms as soon as I released the first sob. “This is why I can’t be with you sweetheart...” He breathed out softly, “I can see you in pain because of me.” He whispered as a sob left his lips.

The knocking on the door caused him to pull away from me. He gave me a regretful smile as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry baby,” he whispered breathlessly cupping my cheek before he placed a kiss on my lips and pulled away from me making his way over to open the door.

“Finn.” I whispered out causing him to stop in his tracks, still facing the door as he gripped the handle. “You can’t leave me,” I scolded him through my soft sobs, as I painfully moved off of the bed. “If you leave me it’ll kill me... I can’t be without you. I don’t want to be without you!” I cried out walking up behind him.

“Baby,” He breathed out softly turning to face me, “Fuck! Baby you gotta get back in bed!” He scolded me sadly trying to push me backwards. He groaned when I wrapped my arms tightly around him, preventing him from moving. “I fucking hurt you darling...and I can’t do that again...” He sobbed softly into my hair. Wrapping his hands around me I held in a cry of pain as I felt him accidently put pressure on my back.

“If you leave, it’ll hurt me more than the pain I’m feeling now.” I whimpered into his chest feeling his whole-body tense.

“Fuck,” he cried holding me tighter, a surge of pain ran through my body, but I managed to bite onto my lip hard to keep me from screaming. “I can’t fucking leave you baby! I feel like the most fucking selfish person on the planet because I know the danger you run by being with me, but damn it I can’t let you go!” He sobbed into hair causing my heart to lurch.

“Don’t do it for you...do it for me,” I breathed softly into his chest. We stood there for what seemed like forever, just crying into each other’s arms. “Please don’t leave me,” I whisper into his chest, breaking the silence.

“I’m not going anywhere baby...but I promise you on my own life, that he will never hurt you again.” He breathed into my hair. “I love you so damn much,” He whispered placing a kiss on my head.

Just as I opened my mouth there was another knock on the door breaking us apart. Finn pecked my forehead before he helped ease me back into the bed carefully before walking over to open the door.

“Good evening, I knocked earlier but I heard some discussion, so I figured I’d come back,” The doctor smiled softly as she entered the room.

“Sorry about that,” Finn mumbled softly with a small frown on his face as he shut the door before walking over to on the edge of my bed to sit down before taking my hand in his.

She just smiled as she walked over to us, “So we’re still not sure what really happened, your boyfriend kept blaming himself when we asked him but there’s no possible way that could’ve been done by him... Those look almost like bear or tiger claws, which I know is also impossible seeing as it spells out a name.” She told me in a serious tone as she flipped through her clipboard. She glanced at both of us in question but we both sat silent, not knowing what to say. “Well anyways you lost a significant about of blood, but the good thing is that both of you are perfectly ok,” she smiled softly.

Finn looked at her confused, “She’s the one that was hurt…not me.” He muttered out wearily.

She sent him a small smile before shaking her head, “Not you. I’m talking about the baby!” She exclaimed.

I felt my heart falter and my body freeze as the words left her mouth…baby?

“Ba-baby?” Finn stuttered out in confusion.

“Yes, a baby, according to your blood sample you’re about 4 weeks pregnant. How did you not know?” She asked staring at me in disbelief.  

“I had a physical 3 days ago, and they told me I was fully cleared,” breathed of softly as my eye’s boar into the ground in worry. “I had a match today,” I whispered barely audible.

“Well the levels of hCG in your blood are high indicating that you are pregnant so I don’t see why the would allow you to do that.” She groaned scribbling down on her notepad.

Suddenly the lights around the room began to flicker and the temperature dropped to where I could see the air from my breaths leaving my mouth. Fear immediately rushed through my veins the nurse looked at me in worry and confusion, then over at Finn and she paled. “Yo-you-r eyes are-e bl-black!” She stuttered out as she began walking backwards towards the door.  

Within a flash he was standing in front of her holding her face in his hand, my eyes widened as I saw the color of her eyes change from green to bright red as the fear in her face was replaced with an entranced look. “You will write on your report that her and her boyfriend got carried away during sexual intercourse, and she doesn’t want to file charges,” His deep raspy voice mumbled into her face.

“Balor!” I hissed at him feeling my cheeks grow bright red. He turned and sent me a smirk, before looking back at her.

“You will also state that she is pregnant and will not be able to compete in the ring for 8 months, and you will get everything ready so we can leave within the next hour. Is that clear?” He stated calmly in a dangerous voice. The doctor nodded her head before he stepped away and made his way over to the bed where Finn had been previously. With a snap of his fingers the doctor’s eyes reverted back to green and she looked around the room confused before turning back to us.

“Since you’re doing well, I will write up a report and your discharge papers and bring them over once they’re done. Is there anything else I can do for you?” She asked sweetly.

“No, everything is perfect,” He breathed out send her a dashing smile. She nodded her head before giving us a small wave as she exited the room.

“Get away from me,” I hissed at him as I scooted farther away from him in the bed.

Turning to me he sent me a stern look, “Darling come here.” He breathed out dangerously. I took in a small gulp of air as I saw the dark look on his face before scooting over to him. “Stop,” He breathed out when he saw me wince, his body turned to me and his hand reached for my back. “Relax,” He mumbled as he noticed my body tense at the pain when he placed his palm flat on the engraving. I bit my lip as a warmth spread through my body and the throbbing pain subsided. His hand moved to the side of my neck, that had also been bandaged and placed his hand allowing the warm to spread again eliminating the pain before he moved down to my waist. Miraculously to pain in my body vanished and I was left feeling like I’d just woken up from a 24-hour nap. He pulled away from me and watched me while I probed the areas that were once scorching in pain.

“What did you do?” I asked him breathlessly.

His face was still neutral when he motioned for me to come closer to him. Without a second thought I sat up on my knees and climbed his lap, wrapping my arms around his budging shoulders as I settled onto his thick thighs. “I heeled you,” He stated out flatly. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling closer into his chest. “I should not have hurt you…I was furious because someone put their hands on you and Finn did nothing. I took it into my own hands, and I made him pay… but I should not have hurt you. Not you princess.” He breathed out strongly, as he rested his forehead on mine. “I never apologize darling, but for you I’d grovel on my knees if you asked that of me,” He breathed out, the faint smell of blood drifted from his lips.

“Balor,” I sighed out softly as I felt the tears well in my eyes. I had never heard him talk to me so sweetly after the many encounters we have had. I could clearly hear the regret and pain in his voice when he spoke to me.

“Will you forgive me my queen?” He whispered softly his pitch-black eyes gazing deeply into mine.

“Yes,” I breathed out softly before connecting my lips with his for the first time. While I had kissed Finn millions of times, I had never kissed Balor…not even when we’d had sex. This feeling was new as a warm fire spread through the inside of my body as our lips moved together in perfect sync. Even though he had hurt me, I couldn’t fight the attraction that I felt towards him. There had been many times where he had protected me and fought for me. He’d also always kept Finn safe which I was extremely grateful for, If Finn and I were to remain together, I would have to accept Balor too.

Breaking away from the kiss, my chest heaved up and down as I panted heavily. His breathing was unfazed, but his face held an emotion that I had never seen on him…love. “You have my word my queen, that I will never put a hand on you again…unless you ask,” He smirked deviously causing me to laugh which made him chuckle.

Our laughing died down, leaving us in a calm silence as his hands pulled me tighter to his chest. My hands trailed up his shoulder and thread into his soft hair, “Balor?” I whispered softly.

“Yes, my queen?” He asked gazing into my eyes.

“The pregnancy…. umm I wasn’t pregnant before tonight...” I whispered softly.

“No, you were not,” He hummed cupping my chin. “But you are pregnant now and from what you may have caught on from the doctor. This pregnancy will be different from normal pregnancies. It will be quicker, but our child will grow at a normal human rate,” He breathed out.

“Our child?” I whispered softly, my mind still racing around the new information.

“Yes, our child. Yours, Mine, and Finns.” He stated, “I know this is a lot for you to take in… but I intend to be with you and keep you safe throughout the whole pregnancy.” He stated firmly.

Everything was so overwhelming to me and I didn’t know what to say as he watched me closely before pressing a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you very much my queen,” He breathed pulling away before his dark eyes reverted to light green.

Finn clenched his eyes tightly before shaking his head, trying to recollect what had happened. “Baby? What did he do?!” He asked me franticly when he noticed me perched on his lap.

“Finn calm down!” I scolded him as his eyes moved rapidly inspecting me for injury. “He healed me,” I breathed out softly as I peeled off the wrap that had been on my neck to reveal the smooth, mark free skin. The look confusion on his face was replaced with worry as I climbed off of his lap, “Wait!” I scolded him when he tried to pull be back to the bed. I stood up and turned so my back was facing him and began unwrapping my chest until the bandage was fully off exposing my unmarked chest.

“What the hell,” He breathed out in disbelief as he traced the skin where the letters had been. “He did this?” He whispered almost inaudibly.

“Yeah,” I whispered softly almost not believing it myself. I wrapped the bandage back over my back so no one would get suspicious before I sat down on the bed next to Finn. “He apologized,” I breathed out.

Finn turned to me with a shocked face, “Holy shit…” He muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Did you um, accept it?” He asked warily.

“Yes,” I whispered before climbing into his lab. “I know he meant it… and he promised he’d never hurt me again.” I sighed cupping his cheeks in my hands. “Besides I need to be okay with him, If I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” I smiled softly as I watched a smile spread on his lips. Leaning down I pressed my lips to his, basking in the familiar feeling of his soft lips on mine. “I love you Finn,” I gushed softly as we pulled away. “All of you,” I smiled resting my forehead against his.

“I love you so damn much princess,” He breathed out against my lips, Pulling me tightly against his chest. “What about the pregnancy?” He whispered softly.

“He said its our baby,” I mumbled out, Feeling him tense. “Mine, His, and Yours,” I murmured still trying to wrap my own head around the information.

“Our baby…” He breathed out in disbelief as his body became untensed, I noticed the small smile on his lips. “But how are you a month pre-,“ He was cut off by knocking on the door, that had me scrambling off his lap before climbing back under the sheets.

The doctor walked in with a bright smile, “Alrighty all the paperwork and discharge papers are done we just need a few signatures and your free to go.” She stated cheerfully, a drastic change from how she had walked in earlier, which I was sure Finn noticed. She handed me the clip board and I signed my name about a hundred times before handing it back to her. She called in a young man with a wheelchair, that Finn helped me to climb into to safely, while I still played my injury’s. “Now you’ll just have to schedule a check-up for your baby with an obstetrician of your choice.” She beamed watching me being rolled down the hallway. Finn and I both nodded and thanked her as we waited for the elevator. “Now I know everyone is different on what they do during physical intercourse, but please do it cautiously,” She scolded causing my face to pale as I looked up frantically at Finn.

A look of horror crossed his face as he glanced at me then at the doctor, “Wha-” Before he could finish, I pushed him into the elevator with my foot causing him to stumble in.

“Thank you, Doc, we will.” I rushed out as I felt my cheeks turning beat red as the young man wheeled me into the elevator before it closed. The young man let out an awkward cough as he stood looking down at the ground with pink cheeks. I looked over at Finn who still had a shocked, bright red face as he looked straight ahead to the buttons on the elevator. The whole elevator ride was extremely uncomfortable as we all looked like we’d been paused. Finn let out a breath of air as he exited the elevator and rushed to pull up the car.

Once we made it outside Finn was already by the passenger door holding it wide open for me, I almost chucked at the tint of pink still on his cheeks. He helped me in as I dramatically feigned my injuries. The young man quickly hurried off once I was secured in the car, poor kid.

Finn climbed in and the air around us was extremely uncomfortable, “So she thinks we did that… during sex?” He murmured as he glanced over at me questioningly.

 “I can explain…” I smile at him sheepishly.

Raising an eyebrow, he shook his head in disbelief before putting the car in gear, “You bet your sexy ass you’re going to ‘explain’ everything.”

End. 

Like this? Check out my other Stories!

Mine: Roman Reigns (Smut)

“I got you baby”: Seth Rollins

Congratulations: Seth Rollins (Smut)

“She’s mine”: Seth Rollins/ Finn Balor

Believe: Finn Balor

Love: AJ Styles

Home: Finn Balor (Smut)

Promise: Seth Rollins

Your Girl: Finn Balor (Smut)

Hurt: Finn Balor

Man: AJ Styles

[probablyjustamagpie]

Chapter 1 is done!

or the first draft at least. Lemme know what you think before I inevitably delete this in embarrassment

I remember flying for the first time. I felt invincible, free from earthly constraints. And then I got a face full of sap-ridden pine needles. 

 Nine years later, and my luck doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Today had started off high, when I managed to snag the last cinnamon roll from under my sister’s nose (she’d already had three, the brat)(come to think of it, how did she even fit that many in her stomach? She’s tiny!), and I spent the afternoon soaring over the garden, feeling much more like myself than like a girl trapped in a castle. Father had even offered to take me into town for a new dress rather than fetching for the tailor.

Then dinner came around. Que me, a magic user, at a table of nobles who would have me sacrificed to the gods in two seconds flat giving the opportunity. All of these social events left me feeling stickier than if I was covered in pine sap. It wasn't as though I could slink away later either, not when the gathered lords and ladies all wanted to marry their sons off to the Imperial Princess. Maybe I didn't even want to marry a man (I do, but that's beside the point here). The aftermath is worse though, with all the dimwitted nobles vying for attention

“My Lady! I haven’t seen you since your brother’s wedding!” An older woman exclaims. Her ridiculously tall beehive updo sparks the slightest recognition, as do her tawny wings, but I’m left at a blank for her name. I spent most of Brenton’s wedding trying not to interact with all the stuffy  nobles who I didn’t recognize. The seven-year-olds Mirin hangs out with at these events are much more fun, even if I am practically 16.

“Oh, yes. Well I don't get out much, after all. Plenty to do here. At the palace, with my studies and all.”

“Ah, yes. I remember my studies when I was your age. Though, I don’t really use them much now. Your husband takes care of everything darling, so don’t fret!” Oh. I remember this one. Countess Ryelle. Lower down the chain of command, brainwashed into a useless sack of jewels and satin by her husband. She used to be one of the brightest people in the empire. I used to admire her, till I met her.

“Is that so?” I try not to sound sarcastic. “Oh, would you look at that, my father is calling me over. I’ll be seeing you.” never, I add under my breath.

My father pulls me aside. I’m not mean enough to lie, unfortunately. “Aria, the Prince of Mordu is here. I wish you would dance with him.”

“Must I?”

“At least pretend to enjoy these events, he may be your suitor.”

“Fine.” It comes out bitter and angry, much more than I truly feel. Dancing is fun, despite who attends these events. Still, my steps are forced and awkward as I approach the prince.

His hair is close shaven, and he looks at least 5 years my elder. Not to mention that he isn't Symphinian, and though humans aren’t bad, they always want to touch my wings. Nevertheless, I smile, trying to look like I’m genuinely afraid he might say no to a dance.

“Hello,” he says, curt, but not unkind. His voice has an unfamiliar twang to it. “Have you come to ask for a dance?”

“Yes. I am Princess Aria.” I nearly fall over when I curtsy without spreading my wings, trying to make the human prince more comfortable (I think it's ridiculous, but Father insists), and he grabs my arm. His grip is firmer than necessary, and I try not to shudder.

“Try not to fall at my heels, Princess. I’m afraid it happens all too often.”

“Is that so?” I ask, brushing off my dress. I hate it when 

“Why yes. Who wouldn’t want to dance with I, Prince Hayden of Mordu?”

“I’m sure my brother wouldn’t.”

He seems genuinely taken aback at my statement, before he laughs.

“You surprise me. I wouldn’t mind taking you as mine.”

I suppress another shudder at the thought of being considered his property. I extend my arm and flatten my feathers, pretending the whole interaction hasn’t made me feel very, very slimy. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

I suppose dancing with Hayden isn't the worst thing. He seems unsure of the steps but insists on leading which is, frankly, obnoxious, but he at least doesn’t reach to stroke my wings at all. The Reolan prince I had danced with earlier had desperately wanted to touch them (Like I would let a stranger touch my wings. He clearly hadn’t read up on the Symphinian etiquette, even though Reola has the second highest population of us in the world).

I still walk away from the dance feeling sticky with his intentions. No matter the customs the royal courts of the world had seemingly agreed upon, 16 still felt like too young to be married off.

When the night began to draw to a close, I spotted Finnigan stationed at one of the exits. Tap his shoulder from behind, and whisper in his ear.

“I’ll see you on the roof later, ok?” before ducking back into the ballroom.

I don’t have time to see his reaction before my father calls attention to himself. 

“Lords and Ladies gathered here, I must apologize. Princess Aria has accepted a proposal, Prince Pascal of Suther!”

My heart drops. The prince in question was the worst of the lot I’d danced with. He’d touched my wings despite my protest, and would hardly let me speak. He was sandy haired, weak limbed, and generally an entitled weasel. Had I chosen (as my father had said I would be able to do, on my birthday)(he never really did care for me did he? To much like his wildfire late wife, who he snuffed out) it never would have been Pascal, not in a million years. And the cherry on top, the part that really got a fire stirring in my veins, was that Suther was the worst kingdom in Aoris.

See, Suther was where the Cruel King lived, as Finnigan and I called him. He had no restraints or hesitations when it came to magic. The moment I got married I would be signing  my death sentence, doomed to be sacrificed publicly or to quietly ‘disappear’. Like my mother had. As my father had sworn, per her last wish, would not happen to me. But apparently, dying vows mean nothing to a man like him.

I’ve lived years like this. Expecting the worst. But the feeling of betrayal is incomprehensible. You think your mind can come up with the worst things imaginable, with no limits of reason, and real life turns out to be worse. I take a deep breath. In, and out, in and out. Don’t explode. “They will be married in a month's time.”

My…. birthday. I will be married on my 16th birthday won’t I? That's when my life is going to fall apart. Pyla, it's already falling apart(who the hell am I, praying to Pyla? I’ll probably be sacrificed to her specifically).

“I wish all of you safe travels home.”

The nobles trickle out, until Pascal and his mother are the last two in the ballroom, besides Father and Mirin. The adults talk off to the side, as the prince approaches me

“Hello.” Pascal says, like we haven’t met.

“Hello.” It's tight and forced as a hold back my tears.

“You look sad, darling,” he strokes my wing and I draw the tight to my spine, instinctively moving back a bit. Mirin grips my hand, holding tight.

“Hey! Don’t touch my sister’s wings.”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t touch her wings. You can’t do that until you get married, or unless you are family. Or like, really, really close friends.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

“I did. You didn't listen.” I practically whisper. 

“Well it doesn’t matter any how. In a month's time I can touch them all I want, isn't that right my little blackbird?”

“Jackdaw, actually.”

“What?”

“I have the wings of a jackdaw.”

“Does it matter?”

“Female blackbirds are brown, like Mirin’s wings. Mine are those of a jackdaw, jackass. Like my mother’s.”

Mirin ignores the swear. She’s heard worse from Father. But she squeezes twice. I need to calm the fire in my gut. Literally. Two squeezes means I’m getting hot.

“Mirin, why don’t I take you off to bed?”

“Ok, Ari.”

I swing her into my arms, and head to the door when Father stops me.

“Aria, you have a guest, where are you going?”

“It's getting very late. Someone needs to go to bed.” I tell him. Mirin yawns for added effect.

“Oh, a maid can do that. Come and talk with your fiance.”

“I don’t care.” I think Father sees the fire in my eyes, because he lets me go.

I bring Mirin to her room, and give her a good night hug.

“Is he a bad man, like the ones that took Mama?”

“I don’t know yet Miri. I don’t know.” I let the tears fall.

“Mama was brave, you said. You can be brave too.” I can be brave too. A plan begins to form in my head.

“And you as well, but it's practically midnight, so off to bed with you now.”

“Fine. Love you Ari!”

“Love you Mirin.”

Though I started crying with Mirin, it's not until I've locked the doors to my room that the downpour starts. I let myself sob so there is nothing left in me, lettting the hurt and betrayal spill out. The fallen tears begin to drown my fire, and I’m left feeling like a husk, empty and dry.

I wipe the final tear from my eye, and take a ragged breath. With no tears left the fire returns to my veins, for after all, a dry husk is a very flammable thing. The ornate clock on my wall reads 12:27. I shakily stand, and walk to the balcony. I shake out my wings and breathe. In and out. In and out. I wake more as the cool night air enters my lungs and dries the remnants of tears from my skin.

I get a slight running start and soar up onto the roof. As expected, Finnigan is waiting for me. I ran to him. He swoops me up in a hug, blotting out the stars and moons with his wings.

“Aria, are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest.”

I disentangle myself from Finnigan, and sit down. He follows suit. Mirin and I, as well as my brother when he’s home, live in the westernmost tower of the castle, and the roof is inaccessible without flight. It’s flat, and the ramparts protect us from being seen for the most part. Not that anyone is looking. 

We’ve spent so many nights here together, ever since we could both fly. To think that was eight years ago seems wrong, we were the same age as Mirin then. If we aren’t careful she might just end up joining us up here.

But that won’t happen. Not with what I have planned.

“Do you want to stay here?”

“What do you mean?” Finnigan asks, surprised.

“Do you want to stay here? Do you really want to be my bodyguard for the rest of our lives? To stay in the castle and never explore? To pretend not to have magic for the rest of time?”

“Well, not when you put it that way.”

“Does it ache? For you. It aches when I can't use it.”

“Yeah.”

I let my hands catch flame, the way my body has been begging me to do all night. 

“I’m getting married, Finn.”

“I thought-”

“Yeah. I thought too.”

“So?”

“Pascal. I’ll be married to the Cruel King’s son.” I stand, and let the fire go as I lean against the rampart. “I’m going to die, Finn.”

“What? Your father swore. He swore this would never happen.”

“He probably got a large dowry. He doesn't care. We knew that.” I look out to the west, away from this all. You can see the faint glow, for in the distance, of the burning forest.

“What are you going to do?”

“Me? Oh nothing… much.”

“Do tell.”

“What do you say we run away?”

[darkmindsotome]

Risque Rouge pt6

Tagging: @umbralaperture​ @otome-smut-queen @silver-fox-of-azuchi @tsundere-mitsuhide @jennacat84

General warnings for the whole fic: Angst, some fluff, Mental health issues, emotional things, trauma, blood, death and possible triggers. Please read responsibly. 

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Chapter 6

When he arrived at the performing house, he could already sense something was terribly wrong. The building was as silent as the grave which felt like part of his ominous premonition from before had manifested itself. His body propelled through the building at high speed, his coat billowing behind him as he ran. His keen senses could smell the same scent in the air as back at that building and he felt his stomach and heart lurch.

Emotions were still a deciding factor for life, even for the immortal. It could make a smart man dumb or the bravest turn coward. He could get angry and vengeful to the point where the fury he had inside him could be felt rolling off his calm exterior in waves. Very few had seen Comte in righteous indignation and the ones that had, no longer spoke of it. The cool calm gentleman transformed into a biblical judgement as he struck down opponents without breaking his stride.

Still, in all the centuries of his life, he was always reminded of how powerless he was in the face of fear. It made him feel slightly ridiculous. In truth, there was little for a pure blood to be scared off. They were at the pinnacle of the predatory evolutionary scale. Death would be a release if it should even find them. Injury was temporary, fleeting like the life of a human in the expanse of eternity. Naturally, should the injury result in loss of limb they were no reptile or creature capable of regrowth. Even the frozen stasis of their bodies had limitations. Fear, however, that was a universal thing affecting all be it human, animal or vampire.

Stubbornly creeping up his spine, that familiar sense of dread probably had a much better name for itself. It was a cool chill coursing through his veins, a desire for answers and also a wish to remain ignorant. Fear really was a strange force to conjure with. Even with centuries of experience to draw on, it still knew how to give a good fight.

Repressing a curse under his breath he pulled back the curtain revealing the truth. It was a nightmare that would have fitted perfectly in the scriptures of any horror novel. Raven black hair curled in a tangled curtain covering in part some of the sight. The scent of blood filling the air had his mind reeling and as he pushed back against his own instincts, he noted the debris on the ground. The medicine destroyed and it was then he noticed the identity of the figure in the Princess’s arms. Le Comte was not a stupid man he could make an educated guess as to what happened and his own blood boiled thinking of how differently the events might have played out.

“Evie?” The young woman’s head moved, detaching herself as she looked towards him with a sound crossed between a groan and moan emitted from her. The clarity of those eyes made even him gasp, their pinpoint focus and depth were disarming.

It was true he had known what she was, although it had taken a couple of visits to confirm his suspicions. The same instinct that had drawn him to Leo when he discovered him in Italy, was playing a part here as well. The only difference was Leo knew exactly what he was and this woman didn’t seem to have even that basic knowledge. He felt guilty for his selfishness as he looked at the scene of the horrific tableau. He had avoided telling her, questioning and second-guessing his own decision, not wishing to cause her distress. He had soothed his worries with a promise he would make a more appropriate time to discuss such matters and focused on simply discovering more about her as a person. Nothing in his wildest dreams could have produced the vision in front of him.

The feral predator, both as deadly as it was beautiful. Her elegant fingers coated in dark glistening blood and her lips stained in the same. The demure and delicate poised figure from before had become a reflection in a black mirror and her capabilities were on full display. There was a low grumble that might as well have been from the pits of hell, neither of them moving.

"Are you alright ma Cherie?" His voice was as tender as ever. No judgement, no hatred as he patiently waited to see if she would manage to regain herself. They remained in a stalemate as they each regarded each other, two predators alone in the night. Hunger could do some terrible things and bloodlust was not something easy to fight. It drove the vampire to the brink of madness and threw them weakened into the abyss. Comte was worried for the girl as she had been weakened for so long, but her strength of mind was sound enough that he believed she could recover from this. He hoped she would recover.

“C- Comte?” The soft frail voice that answered him made his chest hurt. The angular shape of her body wrapped around her pray relaxed along with her expression as the predatory mask fell away. He felt himself give a small sigh of relief and some of the tension of his own body evaporated as well. Evie looked down at the weight leaning on her and yelped, hurriedly pushing the figure off her and scurrying backwards on her knees. “What have I done?”

She looked down at her hands in horror at the red painting her skin, the smears of it up her arms. The more she examined herself the deeper she felt herself slip into stunned terror. The cream coloured nightgown that clung to her sweat-soaked skin was ruined with torn buttons and fabric dyed in blood. She ran the tip of her tongue tentatively over her lip, finding more of it, her mind went blank realising what she had done. Her body started to shake violently and all the tears she had failed to shed before came out like a burst dam.

“It can’t--, I… I’ve never done something like that be-before.” Her voice was so quiet as if she was speaking only to herself but Comte heard every word uttered and felt the weight of grief in each one. He slowly stepped over the corpse on the floor and crouched down next to the young woman. Her face looked up at his, blood-stained and wet with tears. Her twin emeralds shimmering under a lake of moisture as she sobbed. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, rocking in place as she tried to reconnect with her own sanity. “What is wrong with me? I’m a monster, aren’t I?” She averted her gaze and looked at the bloodied mess she had created. It was everything she didn’t wish to see again but knew she would always remember.

“Shh… My dear sweet girl. Hush ma petite.” He gave little care for the crimson that might also paint him in the same shade as her. Comte wrapped her small frame in his arms, easily moving her with him as he carried her to her bed and sat with her there on his lap. Her arms latched on to him like he was the only solid thing in her world. Stroking one hand soothing up and down her back as he cradled her head against his chest. He felt her trembling and the dampness of her tears as they soaked through his shirt. Once more his chest gave a painful pinch as he held the trembling girl in his arms silently trying to calm her.

---

Time lost all concept while he held the trembling woman in his arms. Seconds turned to minutes, that bled into hours, and the only thing he was aware of was that when she finally stopped shaking the sky outside was painted in ribbons of sunlight and muted dawn shades.

She felt the exhaustion in every part of her body as it stilled and her tears finally stopped. Her eyes travelled back to the elephant in the room unable to place the feeling she had inside her now. It was a form of uncomfortable acceptance that made her feel guilty as sin for the apparent numbness she now felt. Was it a form of shock or had something else come to fill the gap in her mind to prevent her from delving headfirst into madness?

“Mon pauvre petit. Ca va?” The warmth from the man she had clung on to, in what was left of the night, brought her mind back to his presence. His large hands rubbed up and down her back once more as if trying to chase away the thoughts that would drag her back into herself. He still sounded so comforting as he enquired after her which presented new problems.

They were in a room with a dead man, covered in blood and the performing house would soon see the return of its people. It was a situation that failed to show how any of this could end well for either of them as they sat on her bed. She believed she deserved whatever fate she would be given to atone for her actions but what of the caring Comte?

He was innocent in this. No doubt someone would argue a case for his complicit assistance. He had failed to raise an alarm or attempt to stop her. There really did seem to be no end to the consequences of her cruel actions. Her heart sank at the thought of him doomed to be tarred with the same brush that would have her locked behind bars for life. When his only crime was being kind enough to care for her.

“Your kindness may be your undoing. I don’t scare you?” She muttered not daring to make eye contact for fear of what she might see reflected there. The sight of her flinching in his arms softened his expression more. She was like a scared little animal and it was almost unbearably endearing.

“Why would I be scared of you, ma Cherie?” She gasped and looked at the man still holding her to him in his arms. Did he not notice the dead body? The blood staining him where it transferred from her? He couldn’t have missed the fact that she was the one to do something so horrific. How could he be so calm? Stunned and at a complete loss of words she looked at him in complete disbelief. “You did not answer me. Are you alright Princess?” He made no attempt to pull away as he rephrased his question, pressing for an answer.

“I think so?” She nodded still dumbfounded and he patted her head, moving her off from his lap as he stood up gracefully.

“Mm, well that will do for now.” He walked over to the horrific diorama and gave a light tap to the dead man’s foot with his own. The warm toffee brown eyes were glazed over with a look similar to cataracts, the spark of life they once held gone. The lingering warmth she felt from him near her seemed a million miles away as she watched him now acting in such a detached manner. “I don’t suppose you would have a measure of rope in here?”

“Rope?” She became curious enough that she slipped from her bed and used objects around her to aid her attempt to walk. Every part of her body felt alien to her as she attempted to stand, stumbling like a newly born deer to his side. The marks she knew were on the body caused by her mouth had faded into obscurity, little more than bruising on the flesh. The sickening look of rapturous euphoria on the dead doctor’s face had her feeling queasy. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen…” Death was a concept she was familiar with but never had she been this close to it. Her words trailed off as she stole a glance at le Comte and guiltily clamped her mouth shut.

“You are still young. If you have no rope then we have to make other arrangements.” Saying this he gave her a reassuring smile and moved over to one of the windows. His calm and collected behaviour had her tipping a balance between awe and curiosity. Was he so used to such things that this was nothing to him? After opening the window to check for casual pedestrians he tied a scarf around it and used his elbow to punch out the glass.

“What on earth are you doing!?” Evie cried out rushing to his side in time to see him remove the scarf and scattering its contents on the sill and her bed.

“Hush now, Cherie.” Comte put a finger to her lips before raising it to give a small bop on the tip of her nose and continued to do whatever he was doing in her room. “If we cannot remove the evidence, we have to find a way to explain it. I might not be a great detective or an impossibly brilliant inventor but I have learnt a few things in my long life. At least enough for this.” He paused in his actions and glanced back over his shoulder at her. “You might want to freshen up a little.”

She looked at her reflection, the ornate frame of the dresser mirror surrounded her image like a terrible painting. Her face had tear-stained rivers through darkened dry blood and puffy red eyes. Bringing her hands to her face as if she couldn’t believe the reflection was her own, she wondered how she had not noticed the aftermath of the night clinging to her till now? She dashed to the basin and tipped some freshwater into the bowl. Dipping a cloth in she began to scrub and dab away the rotten mess. With a last douse of clear water, she felt a bit better and turned to find the macabre scene from before had changed.

If she hadn’t known better, she might have said it now looked like more of a struggle had taken place. Furniture had been tipped over and the doctor had been moved so his body was now face down pointing towards the door. With the addition of the broken glass and window, some more of her clothes had been removed from their hangers and now lay haphazardly around adding to the disorder.

“That should be enough.” Comte nodded and looked over to her giving her a reassuring smile before they were disturbed by a familiar figure tunelessly whistling as they entered carrying a tray of food.

It was a thing of perfect comedic timing had the situation been less grim. The small black eyes of the owner moved between Evie and le Comte, questions clearly forming in his mind before they dropped to the floor and his hands released the tray with a clatter.

“Oh My Lord! What in the --?” The owner cried out as his voice trailed off. His jaw hung open mystified as he tried to process the scene. His face drained of colour as he failed to remove his gaze from the scene he had just walked into. A corpse in the room, blood spatters and broken glass, the whole place was a complete mess.

“There was an incident last night.” Comte answered calmly with a slightly apologetic look on his face.

“I can see that.” The owner answered automatically, the way someone does when spoken too as they are lost in their own thoughts while he continued to look around the room. His eyes landed on the girl and finally seemed to take in her appearance. “Ah! Evie are you alright?”

Practically tripping over his own feet, and the tray, the owner rushed towards her bundling her up in his arms whilst trying to look her over from head to foot. The strength of his grip had her unable to breathe properly or reply. His eyes were full of concern and the guilt she had inside bubbled up again. Her eyes prickled as she tried to avoid the tears, she had thought to be all dried up and gave an awkward smile with a nod in reply.

“I’m afraid I returned after hours.” Comte spoke a bit louder than needed as he began walking closer to the entwined pair. “I remembered something I had to tell the Princess and stumbled upon… well.”

As she peeked out from the crushing embrace Comte’s golden eyes met hers with a silent request to let him handle this. The owner shifted his body so he too could see the approaching man and when the two men made eye contact, she could have sworn she saw those same golden orbs glow. The tight grip surrounding her seemed to slacken and the probing look on Uncle’s face melted, replaced with a look of relief. It was only for a fraction of a second but time felt slower as what she convinced herself to be a trick of the light made Comte’s eyes even more magnetic.

“Oh, dear Sir! Thank you. I mean naturally, I am not happy that you should think to return with it being so late, but thank the Lord in heaven that you did.” Uncle was acting like he was a little drunk, his focus was clear enough but there was something about his movements that just made him feel different. The owner pulled her tight to him once more placing a kiss on the crown of her head before pulling back and trying to smooth out her hair as if she were still a child. It made her feel embarrassed but in the back of her mind, she just couldn’t seem to ignore the sensation of something being off.

“I was actually about to summon a constable.” Comte continued to speak as he took up a blanket and draped it over Evie, effectively placing a barrier between her and the rest of the world.

“The police! Yes, excellent idea. I er…” The Owner suddenly looked very uncomfortable as he looked once more towards the dead man in the room.

“You would prefer not to involve the authorities?” Comte raised his brow in query a knowing look settling on his face.

“Ah, no it isn’t that.” The man muttered worriedly and looked once more at the young woman. It wasn’t just le Comte that was worried about dangers being brought to their house.

For Comte, it was a fear of a secret existence being revealed and the resulting chaos that would swallow all he knew and held dear. For the owner, he was already operating in a grey area of society, while the libertine lifestyle came with a certain level of romanticism it also held a rather low level of security against the cruelty of the world.

Yes, the desire to protect your household and family can take many forms and sometimes the actions taken to do so came from some questionably moral avenues. The consequences of such things would directly affect more than a couple of others and it was a matter of moving in the right manner to minimise the damage. A simple fact that le Comte was all too familiar with.

“I can appreciate the issue.” Comte nodded perceptively and moved closer, placing a hand on Evie’s shoulder. “Would you agree to place the Princess in my care? I could provide rooms and distractions until this unsettling matter is cleaned up. It would, after all, be nothing if not fulfilling my duty as her sponsor.” The words tumbled from him as naturally as water flowed downhill which did make her feel like this was a prearranged performance. She couldn’t shift the idea that everything could have been a lot more complicated, should have been a lot harder. The memory of his eyes came back to her, the glow.

“My good Sir that would be a weight off my mind.” The owner sighed with sparkling eyes. If a look could be more inappropriate given the situation she struggled hard to think of it. The jump from one extreme of mood to another made her head spin, it was as if someone had suddenly turned on the sun.

Comte’s large hand resting on her shoulder remained in place, his gently grip flexing slightly. Evie couldn’t tell if it was meant as a gesture to tell her to relax or a subconscious movement. The owner took both her hands in his, looking her straight in the eyes.

“I’m sure you had a terrible shock and it pains me I was not here to protect you. I should reconsider relocating my room to somewhere closer…”

“Uncle?” Evie softly called to him. The sight of his kind heart being so fully on display had that gnawing seed of guilt sprouting up inside her again. Struggling to find words she simply squeezed his hands. Even in his rambling state where he could become so flustered, she wondered how he had not succumbed to ill health relating to his nervous disposition. The man in front of her had never once shown her anything but care and kindness.

“Oh, pay no mind to this old fool Princess.” The owner gave a lopsided smile bringing one hand up to her face to smooth out the signs of concern she had there. Releasing her once more he turned away from her again, as if looking at her too long would hurt him after making his choice to send her away. “Still, the police will be here stomping around for a while and we will have to close for a time no doubt. I shall have to redecorate this room as well…” He was running his hand through his slick hair, causing it to become a temporary mess before being corrected once more. His mind clearly running through a to-do list that she had no doubt was growing by the second thanks to his worry.

“Uncle please. You—” Tears she tried to hold back were now running again. Her heart was hurting and she felt like someone was placing bricks steadily one by one on top of her. Everything was her fault and she hated it. All she had ever wanted to do was try to repay him and the others in the performing house for everything they had done for her.

“Ah! No little Princess no need to cry.” Beady black eyes went saucer round when the owner saw her crying. “It’s nothing to worry yourself over but I would like for you to accept the kind offer until this is all in order.” He moved swiftly back to her before realising the coating of pomade on his hands and rubbed them on his trousers before collecting her hands again. “Would you?” He was stooping to try to get a better look through the tears at her face.

The hand of Comte gave a gentle squeeze, and she nodded pushing back down the words she might have said. She was acutely aware of the warmth from both men and their concern for her. Evie resigned herself to do as was requested if it would bring any form of comfort to her fretting guardian. Seeing her attempt to give a weak smile the owner gave a small sigh pulling his face into a blended expression that landed somewhere between apologetic and grateful.

“Excellent! I shall leave my dear child in your care Monsieur. Pardon, I must go and find an officer and you simply must both not be here upon my return. Don’t worry I shall take care of everything. A beintot little Princess, Au revoir Monsieur!” With those few words of advice, the animated man gave a wave and scurried out of the room.

The silence that filled the room afterwards felt oppressive. Everything was like a terrible dream except the smell in the air and the way her bloodstained nightdress was clinging to her told her it was all real.

“We should be leaving.” Comte prompted gently releasing his grip on her shoulder and instantly moving into a perfectly elegant swooping motion to collect her, as the strength in her legs gave out.  She hadn’t noticed that just one single hand of his had somehow been applying support to her whole body, denying it’s failing sooner. “Careful now.” His voice was so close it seemed to shock the tears right out of her. She looked up and gave a very small noise realising how close his face was to hers. “You might want to hold on until we can reach the road and hail a carriage. I promise I won’t drop you, but I cannot guarantee smooth sailing through these halls.”

“You intend to carry me out?” The look of disbelief on her face as she asked her question amused him. Her pale skin of the most delicate porcelain that had been stained with tears and blood now shone with a dusty rose tint courtesy of her freshly acknowledged embarrassment.

“I don’t believe you are in a fit state to argue differently.” His voice came out with a stifled chuckle and a rather ungentlemanly urge to tease her swelled in him seeing her innocent face. “I cannot force you to do as I’ve requested though.”

“Ah!” She cried out and clung on to him as he made a sudden movement to begin walking out the room. His body lurched uncharacteristically for one so graceful and Evie found she was forced to throw her arms around his neck in order to prevent herself from tumbling. “You did that on purpose!”

She wanted to be upset with him. How could an elegant gentleman do such a thing? When she looked up and saw how he laughed she found she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The shame and guilt, all of the emotions she couldn’t begin to name were still surging through her like a roaring tide. She buried her face in his chest, her hands draped around him as he carried her in his arms, wondering if she was allowed to feel this kind of warmth and safety.

---

[megalony]

Unlawful protector- Part 9

Another part of my murderer! Ben Hardy series, I quickly changed where the plot was going in this part and I’m sorry in advance for the angst and heartbreak.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction

Series taglist: @rogahs-drowse

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, no princess stay with me."

Leaning over, Ben pressed both his hands to either side of (Y/n)'s face, gently turning her head so she was looking at him but he could see her eyes were desperate to close. She was stuck between crying in pain and wanting to go to sleep. Her hands grabbed at his wrists as if to make sure he wouldn't let go of her as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, feeling her knees scraping against his side as she tried desperately to pull them up to her stomach to relieve the pain.

Ben brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones just under her eyes, gently moving her head side to side in an attempt to stop her from closing her eyes because he couldn't have her go unconscious.

Turning his head quickly at the sound of the door, he prayed that it was the doctor because he had been sat here for over fifteen minutes with no help. Ben wasn't stupid nor was he ignorant, he knew what was happening and he knew there was nothing in his power that he could do to stop this. (Y/n) had tried telling him she was okay not long after he brought her into her room but they both knew that she was only saying that because the pain dulled down for a few minutes and it was what they both desperately wanted to believe.

His teeth ground together at seeing it was the frightened maid he had asked to get the doctor but she was alone.

"Stay awake for me." Ben mumbled as he pressed his lips to her temple before pulling away so he could go and see the maid who was stood leaning against the door. Not daring to enter the room in case she would be yelled at to leave. She was around (Y/n)'s age and she seemed very nervous which is what Ben needed right not to make sure she wouldn't go blabbing about this to anyone and to get her to help.

"I- I sent for the doctor... at the least he'll be an hour." Her voice was timid and frail as Ben could see her shaking in her boots. He knew this was the likelihood but he still begged for the doctor to get here quicker. The doctor didn't live in the castle so it was going to take time for him to get here, get through the guards and all the way up to this room.

"Does she look like she can wait an hour?!" Ben didn't get a response and he wasn't really expecting one either. But in all fairness, he couldn't wait an hour for a doctor to come and help because (Y/n) was beginning to burn up and he wouldn't know what to do when she miscarried like he could tell she was going to.

"I... um-"

"The answer is no. So you go and find someone in this fucking castle who has any sort of medical knowledge I don't care who they are but you get them here now and you bring any medical box or meds that you can find. Clear?" Ben didn't have time to wait and he couldn't go galavanting about the castle asking anyone who worked here if they knew what to do or if they had been a nurse before or if they worked with doctors. He knew the maid must know someone who would have an idea of what to do so he needed her to find someone now.

She nodded her head rapidly before turning to leave the room, stopping when Ben grabbed her arm.

"Her mother will not find out about this, only necessary people are to be told if you value your life, this isn't gossip." When the maid's face paled and her body quivered Ben let go of her arm and gave her a nudge to get going, knowing that his message was loud and clear.

(Y/n)'s mother had done enough damage today by the cruel words she had spoken and Ben would guess that (Y/n) being stressed had something to do with this situation. He wasn't having her mother barging in here trying to take over or acting concerned or simply upsetting (Y/n) any more than this. Nor was he having the maid telling anyone else what was happening. He wasn't going to have this be the news of the castle with whispers and rumours and little snide remarks floating around because (Y/n)'s mother would most definitely find out.

Going back over to (Y/n), Ben scanned her over quickly, seeing that she was still awake by how she was moving and wriggling every so often but that wasn't what was panicking him. It was the blood beginning to coat her leggings.

"S'not fair. W-what did I do wrong?" (Y/n) muttered the words quietly as a sob left her lips. What did she do to deserve this? Why did she deserve Ben murdering all three of her siblings, why did she deserve to be the one left who didn't want the crown? Why was she deemed deserving of parents who didn't love her and to be looked at as a failure? 

Why did fate let her get pregnant if it was only going to steal the baby away?

"There's never a reason, princess."

Ben bit back the comments swirling around in his mind that (Y/n) didn't need to think about right now. He held his tongue so he didn't tell her that if she was looking for a reason it was sitting right in front of her. It wasn't her that had done something wrong it was Ben. He was the killer here and if fate had anything to do with this then it was sending him a sign that he either shouldn't be a parent or he didn't deserve to be one. If (Y/n) wanted a reason or something to blame then she just had to look at Ben.

He had caused her the emotional pain and trauma she went through, he killed her siblings and he got her pregnant in the first place.

"But right now I don't care about finding a reason, we need to focus on you getting better."

Hearing the door suddenly burst open, once again Ben turned to see who it was. Finding the lady (Y/n) had told him was the cook hurrying in as the maid waited by the door, her eyes focused on Ben as she was clearly afraid of him after his threat. The cook wiped some flour from her cheek as he hurried over, nodding at Ben when he moved out of the way to let her stand at (Y/n)'s side and see what the problem was.

"Alright sweetie, what's happened?" Ben had to admit the cook's voice was oddly soothing in a rather motherly kind of way and she clearly had some kind of connection to (Y/n). With her parents not taking an interest in her, (Y/n) sought out that bond with the servants who actually paid attention to her and the cook was one of the few workers who felt like a mother to her.

"She's having a miscarriage." Ben's tone was much the opposite of the cook's. His voice was cold and his tone was angered yet defeated at the same time as his darkening eyes locked with the elder woman's when she turned to look at him.

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced between (Y/n) and Ben, watching him raise a brow at her as he grabbed the edge of the bedframe, stooping over as he arched his back. His expression and demeanour showing the reason he knew was because he was the father. She clearly knew who he was and why he was here as her jaw locked, unsure what to make of him as she didn't know him. It was like she was (Y/n)'s mother wanting to inspect her daughter's boyfriend.

"Oh, you silly girl." Her tone matched Ben with the level of defeat she spoke with but her voice was still motherly even if it was slightly broken. She wasn't being rude with her words, she was simply both upset and disappointed.

(Y/n) tipped her head back into the pillow, closing her eyes as she tried to ignore Mary's words because she knew she had been foolish. She had gotten into a relationship with someone she shouldn't, someone who was meant to protect her, someone she now knew was dangerous. She had let herself fall in love with someone her mother and even her father wouldn't have approved of because he wasn't royalty and he was clearly a rule breaker. She had let herself sleep with him and get pregnant and she wasn't married or even with someone of her own social class.

Mary could see that this was not a match and she could tell by the secrecy that this was not something (Y/n)'s mother knew about.

"Can you help her or not?" Ben's words seemed like they were snapped but his voice was oddly calm. He didn't have time to fill in the cook about the situation and he wasn't interested in her comments or her frowns. He needed to know if she could help or not because if she couldn't she would have to leave.

"Yes, I can help her. Get her out of those trousers, Lily, hand me that and go get some towels and sheets."

Ben moved to do as he was told as Mary took the dark leaf green medical box from the cowering maid at the door. Patting her shoulder before nodding for her to go and get the supplies they would need. When the frightened and very silent maid came back into the room with a bundle of both sheets and towels and about two blankets piled into her arms, she closed the door behind her leaving the only four people in the room who knew what was going on.

"Go and draw a hot bath and then go down and wait for the doctor, he's to come straight up here when he arrives." Mary instructed, watching Lily nod before scuttling into the joined bathroom to do as told.

Ben brushed (Y/n)'s hair behind her ear as she kept his other hand tightly in her own. Her cries rattling through his ears and played on repeat in his crumbling mind as he kept his eyes on Mary. Watching what she was doing as she crumpled up a bloodied towel and threw it to the end of the bed out the way. Her eyes watering though she did well to hide away the tears, her worried eyes locking with Ben as he could only describe the look on her face as a look of sorrow.

She said nothing as she very slowly wrapped a towel around the baby, also moving it to the end of the bed clearly trying to ignore that factor for the time being to focus on (Y/n) but her eyes were drawn back to the towel when she noticed Ben's expression that looked as hard as stone.

Opening the medical box she had taken from Lily, she pushed a few plasters, cotton pads and alcohol wipes out of the way before grasping a packaged needle that held a clotting medication.

"You're losing a bit of blood, sweetie but don't worry, we'll sort that out."

She placed one of the sheets beneath (Y/n)'s legs to replace the soiled towel before injecting the medication into her upper thigh to try and stop the blood loss. Mary tried to dab at (Y/n)'s legs and thighs to smear away the blood to tell if it was slowing down or not before going through the medical box again to find a painkiller. Injecting it into a vein in (Y/n)'s wrist before she looked over at Ben.

"Let's get her into the bath and then I'll clean this up." She motioned to the bed before moving to attempt to try and get (Y/n) to sit up but Ben shook his head.

"I'll help her, you sort this." He slipped an arm around (Y/n)'s back just over her shoulder blades before hooking his other under her knees. Easing her from the bed and into his arms before carefully shuffling off the bed and onto his feet. His heart hammering against his chest when he noticed the blood smearing onto his arm making him feel sick.

"D-don't leave me." (Y/n) whispered the words quietly as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, closing her eyes as she couldn't be bothered to try and keep them open any longer.

"Now why would I do that?"

He never wanted this. No matter what (Y/n) thought or what he had done to her or to her family, Ben didn't want to hurt her and he especially didn't want this to be a reality.

He had wanted their baby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Can you get us out of here?"

(Y/n) whispered the words as she tightened her hand around Ben's that was entwined with her own. His arm slung over her waist trying not to apply too much pressure in case he hurt her. She had her back against his chest, his head nuzzled into her neck as they had stayed like this for two days.

Ben felt his heart leaping in his chest as it was the first proper thing (Y/n) had said to him these past two days. Before this, she had simply cried or begged him to change things or simply ignore whatever he tried to say. But he had been surprised that she didn't push him away. He thought she wouldn't want to see him or have him stay with her but she seemed to panic when he moved to simply go to the bathroom as if he was never going to come back to her.

The maid, Lily, had kept her word and not told a soul but Mary who also kept quiet. She had had a word with the doctor when he arrived who promised not to say anything, he had stayed the night to give (Y/n) medication and check the bleeding had stopped since it had been substantial and said she would recover quickly. As far as (Y/n)'s mother and the rest of the staff were concerned, (Y/n) had come down with a rapid fever and wasn't to be disturbed, only Mary and Lily were to come in and out of the room.

"Of course I can. I can sneak you out of the castle, there are people I know that would keep our whereabouts secret. Wherever you want to go, you wouldn't believe how easy it is to make a fake passport."

Ben knew hideouts in the outside world, he knew the kind of places that were classed as the underground world that would let you go unnoticed. He had friends who would have no problem creating fake sightings of the princess if people should go looking for her. They would keep wherever they were staying a secret and Ben had travelled on fake passports before. He had to have fake identities to get himself into the castle and fake addresses and references so they wouldn't know the criminal history he was dragging behind him.

It would be so easy for him to get her out of here without anyone seeing and without a whisper spreading around that she had left.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to walk around knowing people want me to be Queen, knowing the bad memories this place has. But I do want to be with you, I... I just... I wanted the baby too-"

Walking around these walls wasn't the same anymore, it was full of memories that Louisa had died in that room. That Daniel had been murdered there, that Anna had died in the library (Y/n) couldn't face going in anymore. She had the memory that Ben confessed to these crimes in the art room, she had the knowledge that she lost her baby in her bedroom. Living here wouldn't be the same and she would be expected to be Queen.

She didn't want this and she didn't want to be pushed around. Ben had killed people but he loved her and he had done nothing but care for and about her despite everything he had done.

"Ssh, I know princess. I know, but when we go you won't have to have those memories. You won't be the princess expected to be Queen, you won't have to think or be around a dysfunctional family. It'll just be you and me, a new identity. We can start again." (Y/n) didn't have to be the princess anymore, she could be whoever she wanted to be. She could be someone different, she could have a new life with Ben and leave all of this torment behind.

"I'm not pregnant now... you could-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Ben's words were quiet but his tone was enough to stop (Y/n)'s train of thought right there.

She knew he had been plucking up the courage to kill her that day in the art room but he didn't because of the baby. But there was no baby now, he just needed the courage again to finish the job. She couldn't help but think it would be easier if he did, she wouldn't be in both physical and mental pain anymore and everything would stop. But she also knew Ben wouldn't because he loved her and he knew she was speaking out of pain and trauma, not of her true feelings.

"You were pregnant and that changes everything, it just wasn't our time." (Y/n) had still been pregnant no matter if she wasn't now, Ben wasn't just going to overlook that or forget about their baby. Just because they were unlucky and not meant to have a baby now didn't mean in the future they never would.

(Y/n) let go of his hand so she could press her palms to the mattress, taking a moment before pushing herself so she was sitting up. Ben sat up with her, resting his hands on her hips to stop her when she moved her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Are you sure you should be walking about? Where do you want to go?" Ben wasn't so sure walking about would be a good idea just yet. She had lost a lot of blood the other day and her stomach was still causing her some pain.

"I have an idea, help me up?" There was a pleading look in her eyes as part of her wanted to stay curled up in bed and try to forget everything that had happened but the other part of her wanted to leave and she knew something that would help. Her eyes softened as Ben nodded, moving off the bed before taking her hands in his own and easing her to her feet.

Ben kept his arm around her waist as they started walking to the door, his eyes noticing how (Y/n) was slightly leaning over as she walked. She pointed to where they needed to go, walking down the corridor and turning to go up the stairs. (Y/n) leaned some of her weight onto Ben as they walked slowly to get up the stairs.

Reaching the right floor, (Y/n) pointed down the corridor before they turned left and then right before heading down three small steps leading into another corridor.

Gathering her breath and an ounce of calmness, (Y/n) guided them into the room at the very end. Ben didn't know which room they were going into since he hadn't been down this area of the castle before but he guessed it was someone's bedroom or a guest room. Following her inside, he scanned the vast room for a moment as he shut the door behind him.

(Y/n) padded on the fluffy grey carpet over to the rather large built-in wardrobe that she opened and walked into. Ben let go of her and leaned against the door as he watched her push around the clothes that were hung up on the hangers.

"What are you looking for, princess?"

"My father kept money and a few valuables stashed around his room. Some money under the mattress, a few jewels in a locked drawer, a stash of money in the back of a photo frame. I was going to take them but Anna got to them first, God knows why she wanted the money but she raided this room. But she didn't know about the safe."

Their father was the kind of man who would have money or bargaining tools hidden around his room for an emergency since asking a servant to get money from the bank or from the big safe may take too much time or arouse suspicion. (Y/n) had seen her sister raiding the room the day after their father passed and she didn't know why Anna wanted the money when she would get a big allowance if she became Queen but (Y/n) just guessed her sister was fuelled by greed.

"How do you know about it?"

"I used to come in here and show my father my paintings, he'd never look at them. Once or twice I saw him in here and he has a safe in the back wall." The good thing about being the quiet and observant child meant she noticed things and one of those was the safe her father had in here.

(Y/n) didn't know if it held money or jewels or even just documents but it was the only thing she could think of. If she didn't take the crown her mother would cut off her allowance and she wouldn't be allowed the dowry that she was meant to get when she was married. She needed money if she was going to leave and money was better than jewels to pawn.

Taking a moment to think of what the code was, (Y/n) knew it would either be something to do with her father or her brother because her father was a self-centred, stuck up old man. She tried her father's birthday with no luck so tried the day of his coronation that she could only just remember but still nothing. She knew it wouldn't be his wedding day nor would it be Louisa's birthday because even though she was the firstborn her father didn't think all that highly of her.

Another dagger hit her heart when she tried Daniel's birthday and the safe beeped before the door slowly swung open.

Of course it would be the only son.

Ben didn't ask how she knew what the code was, he simply watched as she rummaged around in the safe, her eyes scanning over the money that was new and untouched. Wrapped in paper from the bank that stated how much was in each small stack, all of which were in lump sums of two grand.

"Jackpot." There was no emotion in her voice as she pulled back for Ben to see, noticing he had no emotion in his eyes either.

[valasania-the-pale]

A Healer’s Dilemma

Author: Valasania the Pale

Rating: K

Words: 1289~

Pairing: Mipha/Zelda/Link

Notes: I personally loved Mipha. While I am a devout Zelda/Link shipper, I can’t help but feel sad that there aren’t many, if any stories that really explore the potential between these three. I guess you could call this my OT3 BoTW story. Takes place during Memory #9. Enjoy!

The sound of running water ought to have been comforting for a Zora. They were born of the water. Lived within it for much of their lives. Its sweet serenade was found within the pulsing of their blood, underlaying every thought, every dream, every emotion.

Mipha felt nothing of the sort, enclosed within the immaculately quarried walls of the Spring of Power.

In fact, it felt rather claustrophobic.

But perhaps that wasn't really the fault of the spring – it was a beautiful thing, a testament to the sophistication of Hylia's chosen people, carving their mark into the world. The spring was masterfully sculpted to guide the clear waters up and around, spilling back down into its center. A perfect cloister made of nothing but the lifeblood of the land.

Those waters fed the vegetation – the gentle oaks that towered in the water, somehow never drowning, as well as the water flowers and grasses and algae, before disappearing through cleverly hidden channels to the lakes miles away.

No Sheikah had a hand in this glade – none of the Sheikah responsible for the Beasts, at least. No impossible technology. No gods. Just time, just patience, just creativity and care. In that sense, it was a marvel to behold, and perfect for the servants of Hylia to conduct their devotions to her.

Mipha dipped her hand into the water, letting it flow past the webbing of her fingers, over her scales. It was freezing, even in summer. Some of it probably came from runoff from Death Mountain. She had no idea how Zelda tolerated it without the biology of a Zora, in that thin gown of hers.

The princess of Hyrule prayed in spite of the cold. Her knight, holding his vigil with his back toward her, did not look at Mipha where she sat near the entrance.

Neither of them had looked at her much once they passed into the green lands of Akkala. They'd pretended before then, on their way from the domain, but she'd quickly realized that their minds were far away from her.

Link would prepare sumptuous meals from his simple pot over the fire, and she might draw some banter from him if she were lucky. His blue eyes would flash with amusement – only a moment stolen from whatever dour thoughts settled over him like storm clouds – before they'd dip away and hide from her again. Zelda had asked her more than once – pitching her voice so the whispers would assuredly reach her knight over the pop and hiss of fat and moisture – how she managed to slip between the cracks of Link's demeanor so simply.

It was no secret – Link was not so different from a normal man that he couldn't laugh when surrounded by good company. Familiarity was the way to his heart. Familiarity that the princess had long since earned.

Mipha'd hoped those words would prove as comforting as she intended, but the flush that stole over Zelda's cheeks, rising from her neck to her ears, was not bashfulness, but shame. Link's smile became strained, and his focus became wholly dedicated to the task before him.

Mipha hadn't understood why until they made camp outside the chiseled gates of the spring. Her every attempt to correct her mistake met with empty air – she could not connect, could not comfort.

Couldn't even meet their eyes, for when she tried, they would not let her in. Would not let her heal, would not let her help.

"I come seeking help…"

Mipha's eyes narrowed, her lips curving into a frown.

Let me help you.

Moonlight alone illuminated the spring, turning the waters white and the weathered stone of the Goddess statue to marble… but Zelda was, to Mipha's eyes shrouded by shadow. Hair that ought to have shone molten silver merely glittered golden, garments that ought to be radiant white were sodden and grey. It was as though nature itself sought to deny Zelda the very image she'd been promised… she ought to have been a goddess incarnated, but she remained merely a girl.

A scared, lonely girl.

"Mother heard them, the voices from the spirit realm…"

When Link turned his head to not-look at Zelda, Mipha's jaw tightened. The two locked eyes for the merest seconds, and past his carven features Mipha saw kin to the frustration brewing within her chest, saw the pain he found in failing in his duty to protect.

Link's jaw tightened and he looked away, listening, eyes locked upon the walls with an intensity that would've shaken a Moblin.

"But I don't hear… or feel anything!"

Mipha eyes would not still; they were engines she could channel the restless energy building in her bloody into. Her hands itched to clench, so she clasped her ankles and held still. Zelda's hands rose, cupping together in supplication – "Father has told me time and time again…" – and Link's clenched around the pommel of the Master Sword, as though to throttle an unseen foe.

"'Quit wasting your time playing at being a scholar!'"

His teeth did not grind, his gaze did not waver, nothing in his body betrayed him. Mipha felt the energy in his body, restless, protective, angry – felt it in him, as she felt it in herself, for they were of one mind.

"Curse you!"

Splash.

…Who? Her father, who asked too much, or Hylia, who gave too little?

Us, who cannot give her the help she needs?

Enough.

Zelda looked away from the statue and Mipha pushed herself to her feet and Link's eyes flickered between them. The energy had reached a fever pitch. He could not move, could not act. Someone had to break this stalemate, someone. She would not sit, she would not let Zelda—

"What's wrong with me?!"

Mipha's breath caught in her chest. Link's face betrayed him, naked pain, failure – the rage of an animal defending – and then he was stone, and he was turning, Master Sword rising from the stone. Mipha trotted forward to his side, and—

And Zelda turned and began to slosh towards them, her dress hiked up to her knees and sandaled feet steady upon the slick stones under the water. Link proffered his hand to her silently and hoisted her out of the spring, face unreadable once more.

And Mipha extended her hand, almost touching Zelda's shoulder, but could not close the distance. It was beyond her in that moment to encapsulate everything she wished to say in a few words, or a single gesture. It was impossible for her to express what the smoldering coil within her demanded she speak – what she felt, what—

Their eyes met, the Hylian's a green akin to new leaves, the Zora's an amber tranquil like the coming of twilight, and Mipha found the courage to reach further – the other shoulder, pulling the shivering girl closer until she was snug at Mipha's side.

A moment passed – a moment punctuated by the girl's surprised inhalation – and then Link's arm was around her shoulders and she was held between them.

A moment. A moment. A moment of courage.

And it passed, and her exhalation was almost a sob, and Mipha could only hold tighter as they walked away from spring and the cold stone statue.