#and when i offer to help she dismisses me like i'm making things more difficult by even asking or insulting her capability or something

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 3 (gravity falls g/t)

omgggggg i'm still doing this! i actually have so much written! i didn't think i'd get this far but i just can't stop. enjoy!

parts 1 and 2!

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“Alright, shorty, where does this go?”

“Right there. In the – yeah, that one.”

“Are you sure? This doesn’t look right.”

“How would you possibly know what looks right?”

“Don’t question me! I can look at a picture and know what it’s supposed to be!”

“Diagram. It’s a diagram.”

“Psh. Whatever. S’just a word to make dumb nerds seem smarter than the rest of us.” 

“Pretty sure Ford is smarter than the rest of us.”

That’s how pretty much every conversation had gone today.

The first couple of days weren’t too bad, though it was mostly spent by Stan working on something alone until he remembered Jay was there. Sometimes, he would disappear into the portal room for hours, trying to get it back on by sheer willpower.

Now, it was day five – no, six – seven? – of the portal reactivation effort, and if Jay had to put a number on it, she’d say zero progress had been made. She was trying her best to honor this truce of sorts that they made, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as the days went on, especially the ways he’d mock their size difference. 

“Hey, hand me those pliers, won’tcha?” he would say, a wicked smile plastered on his face. Or he’d be sitting on the floor and pretend he couldn’t reach the table when he needed something. More than once, Jay threatened to drop something on his head, but that just seemed to make him laugh even harder. 

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just teasing you, tiny,” he would say, feigning innocence, and then he’d give her a hearty poke in the back and she’d stumble forward, often half-falling and needing her hands to stop her momentum. “Don’t take it so personal!”

“Easy for you to say,” she’d mumble, rubbing whatever part of her body was now sore.

“Take it from me, kid. When life punches you, you gotta punch back. Don’t be such a pushover.”

It was almost like he was giving advice to himself as much as he was lecturing Jay. She didn’t need to be told how to survive, least of all by a giant. 

Jay tried to keep her distance, offering up nuggets of wisdom where she could, but Stan was mostly dismissive of anything she had to say. 

Until she actually figured something out.

He was mindlessly flipping through the journal one day when he suddenly stormed off, presumably to find a soda, or something a little stronger. Curious as to what got him so mad, Jay trotted over to the open journal and ambled onto the page, setting her hands on her hips as she read over the impossibly large display.

Jay’s eyes scanned the page dutifully, trying to pick up the little things she learned from Ford. He had shown her that equations that seemed like a random amalgamation of letters, numbers and squiggles actually had meaning when you knew what stood for what.

That’s when she spotted it. It was a large, red W – something Ford called the “weirdness coefficient.” She didn’t know exactly what it was used for, but she actually recognized the string of data that succeeded it. She followed it along, running across the page a few times to get it all in her head. She was so distracted that she never noticed Stanley enter the room, drink in hand. The loud cracking of the can’s tab snapped her back to reality. 

“Ew,” Stan said, eyeing her with suspicion as he sat down. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“No! Don’t sit! You’ve gotta help me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think I figured something out.”

Stan nearly spit out his drink. “You? Figuring something out? Hah, sure, and I’m a millionaire.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Jay retorted. “It’s not like you’ve done anything.”

“It’s only been a couple of days, squirt. I’m just gettin’ started.”

Jay rolled her eyes. Stan’s machismo attitude was really unmatched. “Okay, well, can you hear me out on this one?” Stan took a long sip of his soda, then nodded. “Okay, you see this here? This big W? That’s the weirdness coefficient. It’s supposed to account for the average amount of weirdness – or, anomalies – that can leak through to this dimension at any given time. So this equation here, it stipulates the maximum amount of W – weirdness – that can be allowed through P, or the portal. So, we have to make sure the leakage output doesn’t exceed this number here.” She pointed to a bold number circled in red, looking up at Stan, a little winded from all the talking. 

Stan blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”

She groaned. “It means we have to input this number,” she tapped it again for good measure, “into that machine over there.”

Stan squinted at her tiny arm pointing outward, trying to hide his amused smile. He turned around, then turned back. “How do you know that’s the right one?”

“I just know. I saw Ford using it a million times.”

“What if you’re wrong and we blow up the place?”

“Hey, if you don’t trust me, you can just say you don’t trust me.”

“Alright. I don’t trust you.”

“Okay, you weren’t actually supposed to say it,” Jay said, crossing her arms. “Come on! How can we work together if you won’t listen to me?”

Stan tapped his chin. He seemed to actually be thinking about it. “You bring up a valid point.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Now, could you put the number in?”

For the slightest moment, Stan hesitated. The inflection in her voice, and the authoritative way in which she spoke, sounded so much like Ford that it almost made him scream. Yes, yes, I know might as well have been his catchphrase. Stan tried really, really hard not to think about it, but for a nanosecond, his mind was filled with so much pain at the reminder of this little person spending so much time with Ford that she picked up on his speaking patterns that it made him want to curl up his fist and –

He stopped. Come on, Stan, you need her. You know you do. The sooner Ford is back, the sooner you’ll never have to see her again.

“Where am I putting it in, short stuff?” he finally asked. Jay tried to point him in the right direction, but even when he found the right knobs, he didn’t know how to do it correctly.

“Ugh, why don’t you just do it?” Stan sighed angrily.

Jay furrowed her brow. “This again? Are you serious?”

“Don't think this doesn't hurt my ego. But the only thing worse than having you do it is listening to you squeak about it,” Stan grumbled. “Now, c’mon, just do this so we can move on.”

Jay nervously laughed. He didn’t sound like he was joking. “Stanley, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t exactly walk over there and start pressing buttons.”

“What, I thought you wanted to be all self-sufficient? And didn’t you say you were good at climbing?”

Jay clenched her jaw. Maybe telling him little things about borrower life wasn't such a good idea. “Well, yeah, but I don’t – that would take a while, and I don’t think you want to wait. So just, listen, you just have to–”

“Nope! Not this again,” Stan declared. He took a few steps toward her and was now looming over her, hand twitching. She knew what he was about to do, but was powerless to stop it.

“Be – careful!” she yelped. She felt her arm bend uncomfortably against her body as Stan stuck his hand underneath her and lifted her into the air. She shut her eyes tight as the pressure in her head mounted. Even when they stopped moving, it didn’t feel like it.

Stan stared intently, wondering why she wasn’t moving. “Uh. You okay?”

His booming voice only made her ears ring more. It had to be 30 full seconds before she finally felt centered again. Her stomach dropped when she opened her eyes and saw just how far the ground was. Sure, she had been up higher, but the anxiety of sitting in Stan’s hand only exacerbated her unease. She never even felt 100% secure in Ford’s hand, given the way he would sometimes forget she was there. Fidds was the only one she felt remotely comfortable holding her.

“Tiny? Hello?” Stan shook his hand a bit, as if the issue was that she forgot where she was. He felt the tiniest of pressures as she pushed her palms into his, and he immediately stopped moving. Oh.

“Please – move slower,” she croaked, not even bothering to look up at him. “And don’t just pick me up without asking.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit dismissive. Truthfully, he was fully aware and then some about what he just did, but he didn’t want to admit that he probably fucked up. He walked the few steps over to where the control console was and stuck his arm out, holding her out in front like a platform.

“Okay, short stack. Just tell me where to move you.”

“The row of five switches with the red light up there.” Stan pointed to confirm, and she nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

She should have prepared for how fast he was going to move, but it still caught her off guard. She wanted to yell at him for not listening, but getting fresh with a giant while she was in their hand was not something she was interested in.

Stan chuckled in amusement at how much effort it took her to turn the knob, and it turned to a full-blown laugh at the way she couldn’t push one of the switches back up.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” she huffed, clearly exhausted.

“Oh, yes,” Stan grinned. “Extremely.”

“Just – flick it yourself, please,” she sighed, plopping down in his palm. His hand reflexively twitched at the movements, and he shot her a brief look. Man, she actually looks beat from that.

“Fine, fine. Let the big guy show you how it’s done,” Stan said with that smarmy smile. Jay watched incredulously at the way his arm seemed to stretch on forever from his body to the panel. It hung over her like a heavy barrier; something her weight wouldn’t even register against. He could swing his arm and knock her off his hand and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

It was even worse watching him flick the switch with ease. Sure, she had watched Ford and Fidds do crazy human things all the time, but something about the way Stan did it was different. It was almost… taunting.

“There. Now what?”

“Well, if I’m right, it should–”

Suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It was as if her entire body was frozen. A dull sensation reverberated through her, and then, pain. A loud popping sound zapped her ears and she fell backwards, landing hard on her butt, her head ringing, her body aching.

“Woah!” Stan shouted, flinching back. A small spark jumped out from the panel, but he narrowly avoided it. “Was that supposed to–” he started, but stopped. She wasn't moving. Again.

“Hey, tiny, you alright?” Nothing. “Kid?” Still nothing. She was definitely breathing, but seemed to be in a lot of pain. “Jay, you okay?”

She grit her teeth, trying to usher the pain out of her body. Luckily, it melted away after a few seconds, and even though her head was spinning, she was alright. It was no worse than being whipped around on Stan’s hand, anyway.

“I’m fine,” she finally said, though her voice almost sounded like it was glitching. She took another moment to recompose herself. “Guess it didn’t work.”

Stan almost forgot to respond. “I don’t even know what it was supposed to do.”

“It was supposed to – once you put in the W maximum, it should have calibrated a couple other systems. Thing must be fried after the portal was turned on.”

“Oh,” Stan said, pretending to understand. “So, how do we fix it?”

“I – don’t know,” Jay admitted. “I’ve never been inside there before. Not really sure what to do with the wires.”

Stan hummed, unsure of where to go from here. This was the most tangible progress they had made since forming this unlikely alliance, and it got them nowhere.

“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better… good job.” Jay winced at the way he sounded like the words were being tortured out of him. “Figuring this thing out, I mean.”

“I got it,” Jay said, a small smile forming on her lips. Why did that compliment make her feel so… warm? “Thanks, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t be expecting any more compliments from me,” he shot back, though there was no bite to it. “Don’t want you going soft on me.”

“Psh. Never in a million years,” Jay teased.

To her surprise, Stan set her down slowly on the table before burying his head back in the journal. He was only half-reading it, though, because he couldn’t get his mind off Jay. It was so contradictory – every time she did something impressive, like spout mathematical nonsense she had no business knowing, she would be rendered immobile by a slight altitude change or a small electric shock. She was so much more fragile than he thought. It was beginning to dawn on him that he actually did have to be careful, or else he might accidentally kill her. He shuddered at the thought. He couldn’t be so reckless when it came to someone’s entire life. 

Not again.

Ever since then, he seemed to care a little bit more about her opinion, which confused Jay to no end, but she didn’t complain. Even if he was invasive and had no regard for her personal space, he seemed to have a... gentler air about him. Like he was trying more.

But it didn’t always show, especially when he got frustrated. They were rapidly approaching that territory right now.

“I think the red wire has to connect to the other end,” she said, glancing at the journal. “No, not that one, the other one! Right there – you keep missing it!”

Stan clenched his teeth. He was getting tired of being bossed around. “Well, if it’s so easy, why don’t you come do it?”

Jay felt her blood boil. “I hate when you say that.”

Stan grinned wildly. “I know.”

“Ugh.” Jay flopped on her back. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“We? You’re not even doin’ anything.” Stan abandoned his rewiring effort and joined Jay at the table. “Maybe you’re reading this thing wrong.” He grabbed the journal and pulled it to him, taking Jay along with it. She yelped and held on tight as she was moved at a blinding speed from one side of the table to the other.

“C’mon, get off,” Stan began to shoo her away like a fly, and Jay quickly jumped off the book. “I gotta look at this thing.”

Jay stumbled when she landed, staring up at Stan with a disapproving look until she gave up trying to telegraph her annoyance. The worst part was he didn’t ignoring her maliciously; he genuinely didn’t care that she was there. She swallowed, her unease growing at the extended silence as Stan scanned the journal. She had been in close physical proximity to him for basically a week now, and it was unnerving. She had no idea what he was ever going to do, and the only thing stopping him from picking her up all the time was that she grossed him out. But that didn’t feel like a strong enough motivator to stop him from swiping her clean off the table if he got mad enough.

“Ugh, what am I missing?” Stan groaned. He tilted his head, along with the journal, trying to find some hidden message.

Jay marveled at the way he so easily swung the book around. “I don’t think you’re missing anything. There’s only so many ways to read it.”

“C’mon, short stack, you hung out with my know-it-all brother more than any female ever has. You gotta know something. What about these…” he narrowed his eyes, “weird secret codes?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried my best with those, but I don’t think I know enough to figure them out.”

“I’ll say,” Stan mumbled under his breath. Jay heard it, but chose to ignore it.

Stan took a moment to think. Maybe I should go to the library and find a book about this or somethin’. Hah, now I’m really thinking like Ford. But the last thing he wanted was to go into town. There had to be an answer in the journal somewhere. Where there’s a test, there’s always an answer sheet.

But first, he was going to do it his way.

“I’m gonna go shove the lever around again,” Stan announced, grabbing the tool box and disappearing into the portal room. Jay knew it was a futile effort, so while Stan got himself needlessly tired, she would go back to working on her secret project — the new hook that would buy her freedom. 

At best, Stan was tolerable, and being at his mercy was giving her increasing amounts of anxiety. If she couldn’t go back for the contraptions that Fidds made her, she’d just have to do it the old fashioned way. But she only went to work when Stan was asleep or in the portal room. There was no way he could know about this.

Jay had been relegated to sleeping on the table while Stan was here. He had only gone upstairs to get food and drinks, often falling asleep right on the table and getting back to work when his own snores jolted him awake.

Thankfully, there was plenty of material to work with. Not so thankfully, none of it was a rope and a paper clip. She had already fashioned two hooks out of sharp pieces of metal, so her next step was either finding something long enough to lower her to the ground or tying a bunch of short but sturdy things together. Even a parachute could work at this rate.

Her mind flashed back to times with Ford, when they would test out her physics with paper hang gliders and makeshift obstacle courses out of rulers and tape dispensers. He went through a phase of trying to see how far a fall she could take before hurting herself, but that only lasted a week before Jay made him drop the subject. His final conclusion? “Very far.”

Evidently, though, she got too into tinkering, because she didn’t even notice when Stan walked back into the room, jacket shed and face sweaty from all the work. He watched her curiously, trying to see what exactly she was doing. Maybe she just messes with metal like it’s a toy or something. She was working on sharpening her hooks and finding heavy enough things to wrap them around when Stan cleared his throat, and she nearly shot 500 feet in the air.

“What’re you doing?” Stan asked.

“Nothing!” Jay squeaked. “I mean, not nothing nothing, I’m just – it’s –”

But Stan was no longer interested in her ramblings. He reached down and carefully pinched one of the metal hooks between his fingers, ripping it right out of her hands.

“HEY!” she yelled, but to no avail. Even if she could fight him for it, it wouldn’t have mattered, because her legs turned to jelly and her arms became numb the moment his massive fingers came next to her, filling her entire body with a sense of dread. She quickly let go to avoid being pulled up into the air.

“What is this…?” Stan turned the object, observing it intently, marveling at just how damn small it was. Jay felt sick at how miniscule her only path to freedom looked between Stan’s fingers. 

“It’s nothing! Give it back!” she tried, but one glance from Stan promptly shut her up and even pushed her back a few steps. God, he’s so far away.

“Huh… you made this?” he asked, holding it out to her. She just shrugged, unwilling to answer.

Stan wouldn’t have been suspicious otherwise, but he had spent the better part of his life either around criminals or being the criminal. He knew what guilt looked like. He also knew a bad liar when he saw one. He just couldn’t figure out what she was trying to hide.

Not at first, anyway.

He tried to think: if he was that tiny, what would he need something like this for? It certainly wasn’t for fixing the portal, so what was it for? Fun? Stan didn’t know what was so fun about bent metal. Maybe she was just bored? Then there was no reason for her to act so suspicious. She would have just said so.

Then it hit him. What’s the one thing she wanted more than anything, besides getting Ford back? To be left alone. And it wasn’t like she could just walk out of the room whenever she wanted.

She had been looking for an escape since Stan found her. She was manufacturing a way out.

Stan ahh’d in realization, and the way Jay’s face went pale was all the confirmation he needed. 

“Not sure how you were planning to escape with this, and I admire the effort. Really! But you can’t hustle a hustler, kid.”

Jay didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. Her heart was pounding, her breathing labored. She had no clue what was coming next.

“Look, if you don’t wanna be here, I won’t stop you. In case you haven't noticed, I’m not running a charity here. I’m trying to get my brother back, and I can’t seem to figure out if that’s really what you want or not.” He callously tossed the metal back to her, and she scrambled out of the way as it clanged a few inches from her. “So scram, alright? Get outta here.”

Jay blinked. He was… really going to let her go like that? She didn’t believe him. Humans didn’t do that. They never did. They’d always be back.

But that part didn’t even matter, because she did want Ford back. Even with the threat of opening the portal, she wanted her best friend back more than anything. She just really, really hated working with his irritating brother, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. The only people she had ever dealt with this closely were Ford and Fidds. She wasn’t used to anything else. She couldn't handle anything else.

“I’m – I’m not trying to – to leave,” Jay stammered. God, that sounded so pathetic. “I just – need some freedom, that’s all.”

A light went off in Stan’s head. “You can’t leave, can you?”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Of course I can leave–”

“No, not this room, this house. You don’t want to leave here. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

“I–” Jay started, but she had no words. He was right. He was right, damn it! He saw her as this helpless little thing, and he was right.

“Huh, so the squirt that thinks she’s better than me needs me to keep her safe. Right?”

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m better than you!” Jay said, but it didn’t sound convincing. And she didn’t even try and dispute the other point.

Stan’s face scrunched up. “Huh, you sure act like it. Well, squirt, you may need me, but I don’t need you. If you disappeared right now, I wouldn’t waste my energy lookin’ for you, because I’m the one who actually cares about fixing this damn thing and saving Ford!”

Jay knew fighting back would be a bad idea. It had never, ever worked before. But she couldn’t take the constant antagonizing. She just couldn’t.

“Stop acting like I don’t want him back, either!” Jay blurted. Stan looked at her in surprise, but it was too late. The floodgates were open. She was tired of hearing this. “It’s just – it’s dangerous! And there’s only so much I can do!”

“Yeah, and you do a pretty terrible job! Half the time you sit there and mock me for not knowing the “difference” between a picture and a diagram! And there isn’t even a difference!”

“There is!”

“See! You’re just like Ford, always talking down to me, acting like I’m just some – bumbling idiot who can’t possibly be on his level.”

“That’s not true!” Jay asserted. “I don’t think you’re an idiot!”

“Well you certainly fooled me!”

“You’re just – so stubborn!” Jay was nearing the edge of the table now. “You ask for my help, and yet you can’t even fathom that I would know something you don’t!”

“Maybe I’d listen to you more if you weren’t so damn tiny! I’m taking orders from someone who can’t even walk up the stairs by herself!”

Jay’s eyes widened in shock. Oh, so that was it. Of course it was. How could she think it was anything else? Her heart was racing now, her stomach churning. How could she respond? Why did she ever think she could fight a giant?

“And you act like you’re so much better because you were best friends with him,” Stan sneered, placing particular mocking emphasis on that part. “He’s MY brother! MY family! He probably only talked to you because you’re – weird and small and he felt bad! You’re just a thing, an experiment for him to get all excited about! He never cared about you!”

Jay knew responding would be a bad idea, but her lips moved faster than her brain. “Oh yeah? He didn’t even want to think about you! I didn’t even know you existed until you showed up here! Maybe if you weren’t such a lazy freeloader, he would–”

It was at that moment her life flashed before her eyes.

[novaursa]

eek! Hope I'm not too late! it's already 30th here!

If you'd write for Tyrion plz could I get a x wife!reader where she takes care of him (running him a warm bath, massages, pain relieving tea etc) when he has a particularly bad pain flare up?

As someone who knows first hand what chronic pain is like I know all too well how difficult it is to accept help at times, even when you probably need it, and I get the strong impression that Tyrion would be more stubborn than most, but sometimes its nice to have just one person that you trust enough to let help.

For Better or Worse

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Tyrion is in pain and refuses to admit it. But you are stubborn as any Stark.

- Paring: stark!reader/Tyrion Lannister

- Note: The reader was married to Tyrion instead of her sister, Sansa.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

You watch Tyrion from the corner of your eye, his movements slow and careful. His usual swagger seems muted tonight, replaced with an uncharacteristic stiffness. He’s trying to hide it, of course—sipping his wine a bit too quickly, cracking a joke that lacks its usual bite—but you’ve known him long enough to notice the way his hand clenches around the arm of his chair, the way his brow furrows when he thinks no one’s watching.

It’s one of those nights. The kind where his pain flares up, gnawing at him like an uninvited guest.

“Tyrion,” you call softly, approaching him with the kind of ease you know won’t set him off. “Are you all right?”

He glances at you, offering a smirk that’s meant to reassure. “Ah, my sweet wolf, ever the doting wife. I’m fine. Really.”

You narrow your eyes, not buying it for a moment. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Is that what they say in Winterfell? In the South, we call it ‘selective honesty.’” He chuckles, but it’s short-lived, and you catch the wince he tries to mask with a sip of wine.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “You’re in pain.”

Tyrion waves a dismissive hand. “A minor inconvenience. Nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

“Right.” You give him a look that says you’re not leaving it alone. “You’ve been shifting in that chair for the past hour like it’s full of splinters. When was the last time you had some relief for your back?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your persistence. “Relief, you say? Are you offering, my dear?”

“Don’t distract me.” You step closer, laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension knotting under your fingers. “Let me help.”

Tyrion sighs, but there’s a softness in his eyes that betrays him. “I appreciate the offer, truly, but I’m fine. I’m not some frail thing in need of coddling.”

“I know that. But even the smartest man in Westeros needs a bit of care now and then.” You kneel beside him, looking up at him with a determined glint. “Please, Tyrion. Let me make you some tea, draw you a bath… do something.”

He huffs, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated annoyance. “You’re as stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Must be the Northern blood,” you quip with a grin. “Come on, just this once. You don’t have to be so damn proud.”

Tyrion stares at you for a long moment, his defenses slowly crumbling. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Gods, how did I end up marrying the one Stark who’s more persistent than the Other?”

You smile triumphantly and start preparing the tea. In the dim light of your chambers, the soft clinking of the teapot fills the silence. The scent of herbs wafts through the room, soothing in itself, and you bring the steaming cup to him.

“Drink this,” you command gently, “and then I’m running that bath.”

He gives you a mock scowl. “You’re bossier than I anticipated when I married you.”

“And you’re more stubborn than I anticipated,” you shoot back, gently pushing the cup into his hands. He takes it with a resigned sigh and drinks, the warmth seeming to ease him a little.

When the bath is ready, you help him out of his clothes, Tyrion muttering something about feeling like an old man. You ignore the remark, guiding him into the warm water with a care that surprises even him.

“This is… oddly nice,” he admits after a long silence, the tension in his shoulders beginning to melt away. “I might have to make a habit of this.”

“Only if you promise not to be so difficult about it next time.”

Tyrion grins. “No promises.”

Once he’s soaked long enough, you coax him out, wrapping a soft towel around him before guiding him to the bed. He watches you with an expression caught somewhere between appreciation and disbelief, like this kind of tenderness is foreign to him.

“Turn around,” you instruct as you straddle the edge of the bed behind him. He raises a brow but does as you ask.

Your hands move to his back, gently kneading the knotted muscles, feeling the way his body tenses and then slowly starts to give in to your touch. He sighs, a sound of relief that’s almost inaudible.

“You’re too good at this,” he mutters. “You should charge me. A Lannister always pays his debts, after all.”

“Consider it part of the marriage agreement,” you tease, your fingers working into another knot. “For better or worse, remember?”

“I recall something along those lines.” He shifts slightly, his voice softer now. “You’re a patient woman, you know. More than I deserve.”

“I think you deserve a bit of care,” you say quietly. “Whether you believe it or not.”

Tyrion is silent for a moment, letting your words sink in. “You’re… far kinder than I expected, marrying a Lannister.”

You press a kiss to the back of his neck, feeling him relax further under your touch. “Well, you’re not just any Lannister.”

“Flattery,” he mutters, but there’s a warmth to his voice. “It might work.”

It’s a quiet moment, one that feels both intimate and oddly vulnerable, but there’s an ease to it, too. For all his bluster and pride, you know that beneath it all, Tyrion is simply a man who’s not used to being taken care of.

And tonight, you’re more than happy to remind him that he doesn’t always have to carry everything on his own.

[greywolfheirs]

Send me Malkolai prompts!

@scorpiomindfuck Hi yes hello, I apologize for the delay and for the fact that this is 2k unbeta'd words I whipped up in an evening. I've been dying to write but life has been hectic. Anyway, I loved your prompt and I hope you like what I did with it. I love YOU forever for the prompt <3 (to my other prompters...I'm working on it)

***

It was an odd decision, Mal thought, for he and Alina to realize their feelings were simply love towards a friend nearly immediately after an adrenaline and power-filled kiss post-hunt. In the end, though, they both (awkwardly) admitted hoping for someone else to kiss in that moment. The difficult thing for Mal was that his desire was for one of the witnesses of that kiss. At least Alina’s crush wouldn’t be confused with sudden flirting.

Not to say that Sturmhond was showing any sign of confusion—the captain took it in stride. The problem was, he seemed to interpret it as their regular banter. Or was their regular banter just flirting all along? Mal dismissed that idea. Sturmhond had refused to learn Mal’s name when they’d started bantering—no way his new approval was flirting—he just considered them friends. Which, they were, except that Mal suddenly had an increasing desire to kiss his friend, which was getting harder to ignore by the second.

Now, as Mal watched the captain order the Hummingbird around, he couldn’t help but linger on the way his golden locks shimmered in the air, or how dashing they looked being rustled by the squaller’s wind.

“You should go talk to him.” Mal startled at Alina’s sudden appearance at his side. Yes he knew where she was at all times, but it got a little fuzzy at close distance. He certainly hadn’t been distracted.

“And say what?” Mal asked, feigning calm. “He doesn’t need a compliment. His ego’s already too big.”

“Perhaps a compliment from you would be different.”

Mal gave her an incredulous look but Alina simply shrugged. Well, that and she nudged him slightly closer to the approaching captain. Oh, Saints, the captain was approaching.

“I’ve just been informed that the Fold is nearing,” Sturmhond announced. He looked over his shoulder at the ever increasing darkness. “As I’m sure you can see. Destiny is in sight.”

He said that last part with a nod to Alina, who nodded back and said, “I’d better prepare.”

Before either man could respond, she began to walk to the other end of the Hummingbird. Mal knew she had nothing to prepare, but he couldn’t show his frustrations without revealing why he was frustrated.

“I wasn’t aware she needed practice,” Sturmhond mused.

“Well, she probably has to get used to the new extra power…or something.”

Stormhund hummed. “Suppose that leaves you and I to make our own preparations.”

“Which are…?”

Grinning as widely as ever, Stormhund pulled out a flask. Mal desperately hoped his slightly darker skin tone hid the blush at the ensuing wink. Still, he managed to shoot back a grin of his own and shake his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want a clear head entering the Fold?” he asked.

“I’m sure that I’ll need some liquid courage to get through this encounter,” Sturmhond said breezily. He knocked back a drink before offering it to Mal. “I’m also sure my already courageous friend doesn’t need more but it can’t hurt can it?”

Mal hesitated only for a second before taking the flask from him. Before taking his own sip, he shot back, “Your friend needs all the help he can get.” He nearly choked on his sip, throat burning all the way down. “Saints, what do you have in there?”

Sturmhond laughed. “You think I’d drink anything less than the best? You truly don’t know me, Malyen Oretsev.”

Mal handed back the flask before casually yet carefully asking, “And what if I’d like to?”

Sturmhond paused, both their hands still brushing. “Get to know me?” he swallowed in an uncharacteristically unsure manner. “I’m not sure you’d like what you find.”

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Mal asked. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the smile curling on Sturmhond’s lips.

Before he could respond fully, there was a shout from Tamar. The fold was upon them.

One crash later, and Mal was watching Alina throw a punch at Prince Nikolai Lantsov, formerly known as Captain Sturmhond. Honestly, he was surprised it wasn’t his own punch. This pirate—privateer—had simply been an illusion. All this time he’d been a prince playacting like a child. The only reason Alina had gotten to him first was because Mall had too many warring emotions in his head swirling around fast enough to make him feel sick.

He’d been flirting with a prince of Ravka.

Mal processed all of this silently as Alina negotiated her way out of her own anger by talking to the prince. Angry as they both were, they did still need an audience with the king, and what better way to get there than through his son? Wrapped up in these thoughts as he was, Mal didn’t notice the negotiations end as Alina rode ahead.

“I did warn you,” Sturmhond—no, Nikolai—said suddenly.

Mal kept his expression and tone neutral as he replied, “That you were a prince?”

“That you may not like me once you get to know me,” Nikolai corrected.

“Apparently, everything I have known is a lie,” Mal said icily. “So, really, I don’t know you at all.”

“Sturmhond wasn’t a lie,” Nikolai countered. “He was a dream of what could be.”

“Lies we tell ourselves are still lies,” Mal shot back.

Nikolai sighed. “Look, I don’t intend any harm to come to either of you. You can trust me as much as you trusted Sturmhond.”

Mal finally turned to face Nikolai as he replied, “I never fully trusted Sturmhond. He seemed like he was hiding something.”

Mal sometimes hated how his life had turned out. True, he wouldn’t trade his friendship with Alina for anything, but honestly did it have to be one crisis after another? Soon after their arrival to the palace, Nikolai announced the darkling’s return, and Mal wished that were weighing on his mind more than the discussion that happened after. Mal’s best friend being proposed to—even politically—by his…by Nikolai? It just wasn’t fair, his lot in life.

“Marriage!” Alina scoffed after Nikolai left. “Like I’m just some pawn.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t break his nose,” Mal managed to joke. It went poorly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t!” Alina exclaimed. “I don’t understand how you seem to be taking this better than I am, when—”

“When what?” Mal scoffed. “Just because I fell for a mask doesn’t mean I like the face underneath.”

Alina gave him a look. “And what if Prince Nikolai is the real mask?”

Mal shook his head. “Still doesn’t matter. He’s a prince, I’m an orphan, and we’ve got worse things to worry about.”

“Mal,” Alina insisted. “This won’t be our lives forever. And even if it is, promise me you’ll try to find happiness for yourself.”

“I’ve found it,” Mal said, taking Alina’s hand and swinging it gently. “You’re my best friend, and that makes me happy.”

But Alina wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Then promise me you’ll find more.”

Mal sighed. “I promise.”

Later that night, Mal was in his new quarters, stewing. He’d stayed to watch the engagement announcement but excused himself immediately after. Admitting why he was frustrated just made Mal angrier. He’d somehow placed his happiness in a prince of Ravka and the impossible dream that maybe this could all be over eventually. Mal wasn’t sure which one was more ridiculous, yet here he was stuck trying to keep an impossible promise.

Taking a deep breath, and forcing a mask of calm so he could return to the festivities, Mal walked over to the door—only to find Nikolai Lantsov, his hand raised to knock.

“Oh, er, hi,” the prince laughed, his dashing smile on full display as Mal stepped aside to let him in. “Alina said you might be here.”

“Shouldn’t you be out there doing whatever it is princes do?” Mal asked, genuinely confused.

“Yes, well, part of that is strengthening alliances,” Nikolai said. He cleared his throat and sat down in a chair. “And ensuring those alliances…still exist.”

“Nervousness is not something I expected of you,” Mal said with a badly suppressed grin. Instead of sitting down, he crossed his arms.

Nikolai huffed. “Mal, please, I just wanted to talk to you. I’m truly sorry for lying to you, but it was for—”

“The people you love, yeah Alina told me,” Mal agreed.

“Then you also know that I truly want to have an alliance,” Nikolai pressed. “More than that, though. I want to get to know you, Mal.”

Mal sucked in a surprised breath at that. Here was Prince Nikolai practically begging to be friends with an orphan. Promise me you’ll find happiness for yourself.

Mal let out his breath and began speaking before he really knew what he was going to say. “I haven’t really had the happiest life. Sure, Alina was almost always there for me, and I can’t say there haven’t been some truly incredible things I’ve experienced. Overall, though? Could be a lot better.”

Nikolai was enraptured, but Mal felt like he needed to sit down. The weight of his next words were like a physical presence.

“Being at sea was the happiest I’ve ever been. I never knew life could be so rich yet full of peace at the same time. Part of that was the sea itself. Another part was the crew. But the biggest part was Captain Sturmhond. I’ve never been more jealous of a man in my life. Not only leading the life he lived, but doing it with more charisma than I could ever imagine. At least I thought it was jealousy. After the Sea Whip, I realized what it was. I was falling for Sturmhond.”

Nikolai blinked and sat up straighter at that, but Mal put a hand up. He wasn’t finished.

“The thought of being with a man like him���living that life together—that made me feel excitement like no other. But just when I started to think it could happen, Prince Nikolai pulled the plug on that hope. It’s not that I hate you. I don’t think I can even be angry at you. I just can’t look at you without seeing everything that I’ll never have again.”

“I didn’t realize,” Nikolai said, standing with sudden emotion. “Alina—?”

“Is a friend,” Mal answered. “We realized it pretty quickly after the Sea Whip.”

“Then, Mal,” Nikolai began, stepping cautiously towards Mal. He didn’t back away. “You should know how much I wish Sturmhond could be who I truly am. I love Ravka, yes, but the freedom I had on that ship was like no other. If I didn’t feel an obligation to help my country, I wouldn’t have sought out the Sun Summoner. If I’d known what she and her friend were really like I’d never have done what I’d done. But by the time I knew that, it was too late.”

Nikolai reached out to take Mal’s hand. For his part, Mal couldn’t speak what with his heart in his throat as it was.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Mal. You have to know that your feelings were returned. Are returned, if they still exist. I know my station may prove difficult for a relationship, but I’d like to try. Alina may be my fiancé but I need you to know that it’s you who has my heart.”

Promise me you’ll find happiness for yourself. “You talk to much,” Mal whispered around his heart.

Nikolai’s returning nervous grin was still just as dashing. “Speak for yourself.”

Except Mal couldn’t because his mouth was busy pressing itself against Nikolai’s. He should have known a prince’s lips would be soft, but Mal wasn’t used to palace life. He would make sure to never get used to it, if it meant he felt this way all the time. Nikolai’s lips against his lit a fire in Mal that contrasted the peace of Sturmhond’s sea, yet gave him the same excitement. The same peace. The same hope.

When they pulled apart to breath, Mal lost himself in the blue of Nikolai’s eyes. That is, until the prick spoke.

“Seriously, that was the most I’ve ever heard you speak,” he teased.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Mal breathed. He surged forward before Nikolai could reply, but that was alright. He felt like there would be more opportunities in the future.  

[animezinglife]

Yes, it was. Cassian is the rock many of us wished we'd had or did have, whether the struggle is our own internal conflict or that person to come to our defense and have our back when someone lashed out at us because of their own struggles.

I'm going to lean pretty hard into the negatives towards Nesta here, so if that's not someone's cup of tea, you might skip this post. I won't be sugarcoating them. I'm also using them to show her growth.

Nesta was a very difficult character for me to read and support and still sometimes is--if I'm being blunt, I found Feyre and Elain both entirely too forgiving towards her even in the first book; Rhys too patient with her for Feyre's sake later on. I don't want to make this too personal or subjective, but Nesta reminds me too much of my own abusers. That's challenging for any reader to overcome, and I often find those readers who are abuse survivors at the hands of a Nesta get dismissed, and that's both unacceptable and the mark of small minds.

Nobody's arguing that Nesta experienced trauma. At the end of the day, trauma is an explanation for a set of behaviors, but it's never an excuse for them.

Cassian was the catalyst for Nesta's growth. He was kind to her, and he was patient. He was diligent in offering his help, and yet he gave her the space to make her own decision about when and how she processed it.

He even did the same in their relationship--Nesta was the one to tell him it was "just sex." As much as he wanted it to be more, he honored that. The second she told him she wanted him to actually stay the night with her and hold her, he did.

Nesta not communicating that she wanted that before wasn't his problem. Again, he's not a mind reader, and she'd already bitten his head off enough earlier on for him acting on what he sensed/read she wanted rather than her actually telling him.

He also took none of her bullshit in how she treated others, and to me, that's one of the most heroic things he's ever done. That was not something that put him in favor with his own mate, and he still did what was right. Cassian was one of the first to not enable her self-destruction, and he told her hard truths that she couldn't deflect no matter how she tried.

The mountain scene was crucial for Nesta's character because it cut her off from the ability to deflect her own shortcomings by lashing out to hurt others. She can't hurt Cassian with her silly words and attempts at it. If she sits down and pouts like she did in the training ring, he could keep walking and she would be alone. It forced her to finally looked inward. When she finally did so, he listened. He validated her, and he offered his hand again. He was her friend. Her rock. Her support. He didn't have to stay with her every step of the way and walk with her every step through those mountains. They could have left her out in the middle of them to fend for herself.

Cassian didn't do that.

She looked inward and finally understood the gravity of her own actions and the impact they'd had on her. She understood what they'd done for her, and what they'd still be trying to do.

She had pushed away the people who'd loved her and tried to help her at every turn. She had lashed out at them, pointed fingers at them, and had been cruel to them even long before that. She quite literally used to bite the hand that fed her in how she treated Feyre; in how she treated their father during his suffering. If I had been Feyre, I would've let her ass starve long before Tamlin ever stepped onto that property.

No matter how many insist otherwise, Nesta always made it all about her--Elain hit that nail on the head when she told Nesta as much. Before the Cauldron, Nesta did nothing. Nesta accomplished nothing. Nesta earned nothing of her own. Nesta was so worthless back then she couldn't even be bothered to lift a lazy finger for her sisters because she was so set on her own, warped point getting through to their father.

Feyre was a small child going out into the woods alone and bringing back food. In adulthood, she was still doing the same and Nesta wouldn't even help her prepare dinner. We could loop Elain into that, but there seem to be more than a few context clues pointing to Nesta having a tight rein on Elain and likely being one of the reasons Elain hasn't felt she can take risks or be more than she is. If Feyre's intimidating from her capability and self-sufficiency, Nesta would have been intimidating to Elain because of her controlling nature towards her and how willing she is to throw Elain's pain back in her face if it means deflecting blame from herself (as seen when she throws the fact Elain slept with Graysen when Elain calls her out knowing damn well that's a source of deep hurt for her sister and something that was told to her in confidence).

I always raise a brow when Nesta "stans" act like her opening "her" home to meetings in ACOMAF--the one she only has because Tamlin/the Fae are funding it out because Feyre once again had sacrificed herself to protect her sisters when he arrived. She only has an apartment and food once again thanks to Feyre and Rhys. If she weren't related to Feyre and Feyre weren't so generous, she would've been in the streets boozing and gambling and fucking her life away. Which, honestly, she could've been left alone to choose had she not been doing it on other people's dime with the money they'd gifted her for survival and hadn't been treating them like shit in the process.

Kind of like she would've starved to death or likely died of illness because she couldn't be bothered to do anything on her own or for others pre-intervention.

Everyone handles trauma differently, but trauma is not an excuse to inflict more of it on others and worsen their lives. Yet that's exactly what Nesta did to Feyre (and likely to Elain in a different capacity if the context clues in place pan out through Elain's POV).

Cassian had always been there for her, and she finally opened up to him. She finally was honest with him in her grief and how it had impacted her. She finally owned up to her less admirable (translation: shitty) behavior towards the people who wanted to help her and loved her.

Cassian worked with her every step of the way and met her halfway. He knew he couldn't force her to eat; to drink water even though he knew she needed it. He didn't force her to give him her pack or unload some of its weight.

Again, he is not an enabler. He does not coddle her like everyone else. He's a strong, supportive presence, but he doesn't tolerate abuse (and he shouldn't).

He let her figure it out herself, but he stayed by her side every step of the way.

She finally grew because of it.

Nesta "almost dying" never had anything to do with Cassian. He, like everyone else, was there to keep her alive and chose to. He was there to help her. I can say this too as someone with severe Major Depressive Disorder who's absolutely had those thoughts that I'd be better off not waking up in the mornings in the past: her internal struggles and difficulty processing them are not his fault, and he had done everything he knew how at that point out of care and love for her.

I know in those moments when I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up again that I would've killed for a kind, strong presence like Cassian's to stand by me. To take me out into nature and stay with me while the world was put on pause.

At the end of the day, she was the only one who could overcome them. She was the only one who could make the choice to. All Cass, Feyre, and Rhys did was to pull her out of the darkness leading to nowhere and put her in a supportive, structured environment.

I find it strange that Nesta's entire story is about growth and healing yet there are a few too many out there who don't see that. They don't see that she absolutely was a wretch towards those who loved her and tried to help. She was living at rock bottom and as the worst version of herself.

None of it in my mind had to do with the drinking or sex. Those weren't healthy coping mechanisms, but they very clearly were just that--coping mechanisms.

It was her treatment of others that made her a complete and total loser.

That matters in the story.

The entire point is that Sarah took somebody at the lowest point in her life with next to no skills, no healthy/productive outlet, and a refusal to treat others like she herself wanted to be treated and showed that she could become better. That trauma was not an excuse, but rather something that could be addressed, worked through, and overcome.

What happened when she started doing that? What happened when she was cut off from her own toxicity and was put into an environment through which she had to find outlets?

Nesta was given a job--nowhere near what poor Feyre had to endure as a child and what she made Feyre endure, but she actually started to do something in her work at the library. Cassian met her halfway when it came to training, and she started to stop ignoring her challenges by sitting like a bump on a log (rock) and actually decided to participate. She even found that she liked it and that it helped both her mind and body.

She started to make her own friends and learned that she could when she actually treated people decently--the Nesta that Gwyn and Emerie got was a very different Nesta than who everyone else was getting, and she finally connected those dots.

She started showing kindness to Cassian, and he became her friend, too. He eventually became the love of her life. She realized how good and kind and selfless he was and that she was hurting herself more by trying to push him away.

This was a woman too who started out achieving nothing and not having a single accomplishment to her own name and ended up surviving the Blood Rite--a challenge where many Illyrian warriors die and don't even last a single night.

This was a woman who went from being completely selfish and unable to see beyond herself to surviving it because of the friends she'd made and the support system she'd built.

She went from bitching about the Fae using the Fae-funded house she lived in to throwing her body over Cassian when he was injured and she thought she would lose him.

She went from turning her nose up at effort to throwing herself into battle to save Cassian despite being fairly new with a sword. She went to trying her hardest to save someone she loved.

She went from holding an expectant hand out for Feyre to hand her her survival to saving the life of Feyre and her family.

A woman who went from being fully dependent on others to having the skills to survive and sacrificing herself so that her friends could make it to the top of Ramiel.

She went from a woman who allowed her trauma to dictate her entire life and her decisions to facing it head-on and ruling it.

That is what makes Nesta's story rewarding. That is what makes us root for Nesta despite all she had been.

Above all else, Nesta overcame her own nature, which had arguably been her biggest adversary.

That last point alone is why I can support Nesta and her story. That alone is what makes her story worth reading.

If I'm being frank, as someone who does live with severe depression and is an abuse survivor, I have no patience nor compassion for those who actively use theirs as an excuse to make life worse for others.

It was both a relief and rewarding to see Nesta choose to be better in every way--that doesn't often happen in real life, and it inspires hope for those who have suffered at the hands of someone like her.

Cassian helped her become the best version of herself, and even Nesta realizes that.

can I kindly ask Cassian Stan's what y'all think of the fact the mountain scene?

Where Nesta almost died?

Was that very heroic of Cassian? What was your thoughts?

[violetarks]

Arguing With Them/Making Up With Them

Games: Fictif/Arcana

Characters: Asra Alnazar, Julian Devorak, Felix Iskander Escell, Sage Lesath

A/N: Kind of went over board with Felix, oops, and spoilers for asra's route in his part, but really just minor spoilers. ALSO I COULDN'T ADD THE PHOTOS BC TUMBLR SAID I EXCEEDED THE LIMIT >:((, please tell me if you spot any use of pronouns for y/n!! i've tried to fix it because i previously used she/her by accident

Asra Alnazar:

getting into a fight with you would not benefit either of you

it was obvious how much you two liked working together and time apart would not help

and fights don't actually happen frequently, only once every few months

asra is a very grounded person and they don't enjoy it when the two of you ever have an argument, no matter how minor the actual problem is

but they would always be the first to apologise, coming to terms with the way you viewed things and ultimately understanding it

so fights never lasted too long with this person because of how much they really love you

you'd be back in their arms the next minute, because Asra could've fathom the idea of not having you at their side as they love you that much

fights never lasted more than just 30 mins with them, truthfully

you couldn't bare to leave it more than that because it hurts to be away from each other for too long

which is why asra finds it difficult to go on trips without you after you two make it official

and you'd apologise first a few times too, since you knew when you were wrong and didn't think asra was the one who really needed to say 'sorry'

nevertheless, you always came back to each other

this time, however, it went further than expected

this fight had lasted hours, most of it yelling back and forth

you and them were going through with your normal routine when you had suddenly dropped a specific potion that Asra had been keeping to themselves for a while

it was smeared on the floor and you couldn't help but feel upset at yourself, no matter how many times the white-haired person in front of you had dismissed it

you could tell they were very disappointed that they no longer had a stash of it and frustrated with himself for not getting spares

so you had sought off to get some while asra was away on another trip, and they again hadn't told you how long they'd be away, so you believed you had some time to retrieve it

you were originally going to close the shop for the time being, but then asra's parents had come around at the perfect time

they had offered to take the shop until you came back

it took you longer than expected since you had to track it down yourself, asking people around town and ending up at a merchant just outside of town who gave you the directions and specific instructions

you recognised the name of the town they mentioned, which is the same town on the lable of the bottle, so it had to be right

you were dead set on wanting it to be a surprise, and returned home around two weeks later, opening the door to see Asra pacing around the room

they were still wearing their large scarf and their bag as well as their hat was carelessly thrown onto the chair, so it was obvious that asra had just arrived home recently

their parents were nowhere to be seen, so you assumed that they had left already

asra's head turned at the sound of the little bell above the door and they widened their eyes once they saw you, rushing and engulfing you in a big hug

you thought asra was just happy to see you, since they had been separated from you for a while

y/n: "hey, did you miss me more than usual?"

asra: "..."

y/n: "usually, i'm the one who jumps on you like this, heh. what's got your panties in a twist?"

asra doesn't reply, only tightening their hold on you

which was definitely weird

asra would almost always have something sneaky and flirtatious to say in return, but not this time

you clench the back of their vest before pulling away, now realising the frustrated look on their face as they looked back at you

asra asks where you were in this tight voice that seemed unfamiliar, and it only got worse when you admitted where you had headed

it was dangerous, from what asra remembered and the thought of you being there made their chest tighten

and asra was correct, it was dangerous, but you made sure to stick to what you were taught for protection and look, you made it out without a scratch

but asra didn't see it that way at all

asra let all their waiting in agony come at you in a loud yell that had shook the candles hanging from the ceiling

you were shocked, holding onto your bag tightly as asra continue to tell you off for what you were doing

sometimes you'd attempt to support your decision, but that was lost in asra's words

asra: "y/n, do you realise how reckless you were? that place is swarming with trouble and it's even worse for someone who hasn't been there before!"

y/n: "i was only there for a few nights, i booked a hotel the rest of the time on coming back home—"

asra: "but you were still there! how am i supposed to protect you when i don't even know where you are? you should've asked me, and i would've come with you."

they would go on and on about how you should ask them and such, and throughout the whole entire thing, you held the souvenirs in your bag close to yourself

you didn't know how to give it to them now that they were mad at you

and you were frustrated as well, because you've grown so much and you're able to do whatever you please

it made you bring out your sarcasm more, which was a habit you had picked up ages ago

it had developed over the years of asra shutting you in and out of danger bc they're too scared of what will happen when you're alone

you two are rarely ever apart from each other already bc of your living situation, sharing the bedroom and the whole shop

y/n: "asra, i believe i am fully capable with taking a trip like you do"

asra: "i know, i just don't want you going there, y/n, i don't think that's too hard to follow"

y/n: "oh, i'm so sorry asra, why don't you tell me where else i'm allowed to go?? am i back on my leash with you, huh? can i go to the bedroom, master?"

asra had blinked at you a couple times before feeling themselves break, a few tears forming in their eyes

the word you used to address them as always made their heart pound in the worst way possible

because that's what you used to call them before they let you go, and now asra hates that word with all their being

you were so irritated with them that you hadn't noticed, now pacing around the room like asra was as they stands there, struck

asra: "don't... don't call me that..."

y/n: "oh, so now i'm not allowed to say things?"

asra: "i just want you to be safe! isn't that what you want too—"

y/n: "no, asra, i just want to do what i feel like and not have you breathing down my neck about it, alright? i understand that you don't want to lose me and that you love me, but that's exactly how i feel about you and i still trust you enough to go out there without me or any other form of help"

you're not even looking at them at this point

if you were, you would see that asra's actually crying and they're just staring at you

you're looking at the floor as you clench your fists at your sides, one holding the strap of you satchel

y/n: "i'm not the helpless person from years ago asra, i'm stronger now. i hate depending on people when i'm perfectly capable by myself."

asra: ",,, so you don't need me anymore? is that it?"

this is the moment where the two of you are just staring at each other, finally linking gazes

asra was already crying, it was silent and slow

they tend to do that, cry quietly so nobody had noticed unless they looked directly at their face, even then they tried to hide

they trained themselves to keep their voice steady when speaking as asra cries because they would rather not warn the other person about it

you were on the verge, angry and sad tears already forming

you were aggravated by yourself, knowing full well that you should've at least mentioned it to asra. they worried about you a lot, and that was a fact regardless of what they really thought of you

you were sad at the two of you for even starting this fight, they could've solved this better with just talking normally and not shouting

y/n: "i never said that"

asra: "but thats what you meant, isn't it? you... you don't want me to worry about you, and i can't..."

this time, you walked towards them with a focused expression

they were wiping their eyes before seeing you waltz up to them, utterly surprised by the look on your face

asra goes to say something when you suddenly bring your hands forward to collect their tear-stained cheeks in your palms

the two of you stop, another time to take a breath

you looked them right in the eyes, you heart beating hastily before biting your lip as you tried to hold back your own tears back

asra's fingers brushed against your elbows, holding onto them in reassurance

y/n: "i'm... i'm sorry for not telling you where i was going. i just... wanted to replace what i broke and i wanted it to be a surprise. but it was reckless of me. i should know better by now..."

asra: "no, i just worry about you too much. i want to protect you and be there for you but... it's like you don't need that anymore."

y/n: "asra, i don't need you to protect me. just... just be there for me. love me until you can't anymore. in return, i'll do the same for you."

you couldn't ever see yourself not wanting or needing asra ever

you two have been through so much and you're together til the end, you will make sure of that

having asra's face in your palms, you kissed their forehead lovingly and slowly, telling them what you had thought about that

it would not be the case, ever

asra was embedded in your life and you couldn't imagine anything without them

asra: "but what if something happens?"

y/n: "i'm sure that we'll both be able to handle it. i don't want you shielding me. i want to stand beside you, asra. aren't we equal?"

asra: "of course! i'm just scared of what might happen..."

y/n: "you don't have to be."

as you spoke, asra only pulled you in closer, wrapping their arms around you

you dig your head into their shoulder and hold onto them like they were doing to you

the two of you cry together in the middle of your shop, nothing but hushed whispers leaving either of your lips

after a while, asra mentions the lateness of the day and brings you up to the bedroom

the two of you go to sleep right after that, asra laying on top of you as you brushed fingers through their hair

a habit after fighting is always being the closest you can with each other, letting the other know just how much you forgave them and still loved them

Julian Devorak:

julian was definitely a hard one to get into a fight with

arguments and disagreements were only natural for a relationship of any kind

but julian was the type to not voice his feelings purely because he was afraid of what the other person might say

he didn't want to lose you and if anything he speaks does that, then he could not forgive himself, so he thought it was better to just keep it inside

he hated disagreeing with you more than anything, which is why you would only get a statement or two about it before he decides to just keep quiet about it

a habit between that's formed because of this is that you tend to not push him too far

he made you more independent with your decisions but also take into consideration his points

there's only been a few times where you two have fought for real and it had taken a toll on the both of yous

one time was when you had been frustrated all day while making plans for a certain mission and you had gotten into a disagreement with julian about something small

it started off as something he tried to make sweet and joking

but he hadn't seen just how much today had taken a toll on you

nadia was busy with forming different groups to specialise in certain things and she was already trying to calm down her servants and city from the recent events that threaten them

asra was caught up with travelling around and getting information about the whole affair to help you guys win

so then you offered to help with setting up the plans and such for each group as well as the four of you, thinking it couldn't be that hard. just devise a plan that is foolproof. and it shouldn't be that hard.

but julian was talking a lot for someone who should be keeping an eye on the enemy in the chambers

y/n: "but why would we take the scenic route when the backway is way more safer for us?"

julian: "because, my dear, if this is really our last night alive, i'd rather spend it staring at the sunset with you."

y/n: "julian, i am not putting you on that ride if you're thinking that way, we don't need some saviour out there trying to get himself killed."

julian: "my, my, darling, what's going on with you?"

y/n: "look, i'm sorry, but could you leave for a few minutes? this is really important and nadia needs to set the fighters in place by tomorrow morning."

he gets the idea of it once you say that

he now understands that you are stressed from all the work you had taken on, and he even offers to take some of it off your shoulders

but you just say 'no'

and that stumbles him

you rejected because he had played his part already and you didn't feel right about giving someone else your workload when you took the responsibility yourself

but this is one of the times where julian wasn't quite sure how to handle situations like this

he was so used to himself being the one who was pulling away and you being the one to understand that and know when to stop

but it was switched here and julian didn't know what to do, or even how and when to pull away

so he stands there quietly as you draw lines on multiple maps for separate army guards to follow

all the two of you hear is your pencil against paper and you sighing out when you have to reach for the eraser

you could feel him watching you and just tracing your every move, which made you feel uneasy and frankly, make you work even worse than you were before

y/n: "..."

julian: "..."

y/n: "..."

julian: "... *coughs*"

y/n: "please, julian, leave."

julian: "what did i do?"

the breaking of silence makes you drop your pencil, resulting in you pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut

maybe that would help you feel better

but it didn't as julian begins to hum some obnoxious tune

you're looking at him with a very serious and annoyed expression, making him feel even more confused

it results in a fight in the study room that makes all passerby people immediately leave the area

they wouldn't want to be mixed up up in any of that just by the sounds of it

you're yelling because you just want julian to leave you alone for a few minutes, thinking it would help you get some things done before you can see him again, and you can't focus with him just looming over you

julian's yelling because he doesn't know how to deal with this and he's trying to comfort you, in the worst way possible, but it's something and he isn't used to leaving you alone while you're upset without him there

it's frustration and confusion hovering in the air

you were piling up in stress because of this and it caused you to say things you surely didn't mean

which caused julian to say things he didn't mean either

a few times, asra or nadia would nearly walk inside but hear all the commotion and decide to come back later

they knew better than to interfere

last time one of them did, the two of you stared at them for a while, ceasing all talking and expressions before just walking away from each other, now silently arguing with each other

having another party try to butt in made you two feel like you were blowing it out of proportion, so you thought it was better to just ignore it

you're already gathering your things

y/n: "yknow what? if you won't leave, then i'll leave. i can't get this done when you're constantly talking to me."

julian: "ah! hey, i'm just trying to figure out what's wrong! i'm—i'm trying to help!"

y/n: "julian if you really wanted to help, you would've left me alone when i asked you to. i really need some space right now."

julian: "space? from... from me?"

y/n: "for only like... an hour or two! you know how important this is is nadia and all of vesuvia. i need to get this done. if i don't, i can't even comprehend how many people will die and if that happens because of... please..."

julain goes quiet as he hears the amount of desperation in your voice

you're really stressing hard about all of this and it definitely shows in your tone and face

julian finally sees how much weight is on your shoulders and decides that he should give you what you initially asked for

he decides to leave you alone

but he doesn't do that without rounding the table and giving you a kiss on the side of your temple, whispering a small 'i'm sorry' and 'i love you so much' before he leaves

you finally get moments of peace and quiet in the room and yet your ears are ringing loudly

you can't help the frustrated tears that escape you and the way you harshly rub them away before getting back to work

all within one minute

of silence

and without julian

you end up getting all the work done within the next hour and a half and you can't bring yourself to leave the room after everything you said to julian and you know for a fact that he won't be waiting very far

a servant comes around after noticing the quietness and asks if you need anything, and you ask for a drink (wine, really, it's been a long day) and you get it the next minute later

usually, they'd give you a glass and hang around with the whole bottle

instead, the servant hands you the whole entire bottle itself and a chalice before leaving quickly

you silently thank nadia for her good choice in people

you're by the window, sitting on the table and taking a swing from your cup, when you hear the door being opened

you expect julian, but hear another voice

asra: "is there a reason you left this guy walking around the palace like a lost puppy?"

with your cup still to your lips, you turn around to your friend and see him holding the taller man by the elbow

your boyfriend looked like he just got caught stealing, refusing to look in your eyes and only away at the wall

asra knows full well why, but he just tugs julian along towards you

y/n: "where'd you find him?"

asra: "the garden."

y/n: "which one?"

asra: *points*

y/n: "ah. okay. thanks, asra. i'll see you at dinner. tell nadia that i've finished and we'll go over it tonight."

he nods and leave you guys alone

julian stands there like a kid about to get told off

you're sipping your wine as you watch the vines and flowers outside

y/n: "so you were waiting just outside the window, huh?"

julian: "... just in case you were in trouble..."

y/n: "i'm on the third floor. how would you help from the garden?"

julian: "i can climb."

that makes you chuckle, and julian sees that you're looser than before, meaning he can relax as well

he walks towards you, sitting himself down close so your legs are touching

you hold out the chalice of wine to which he takes, pouring in some from the bottle

he clinks his glass with your bottle before you both take a sip

it's a nice silence between yous before julian bumps his shoulder with yours

julian: "i'm really sorry about earlier, darling. it was completely unnecessary and you needed to get things done. i was wrong."

you can tell by his voice that he's really meaning this, and he's playing with the rim of the chalice

y/n: "it's okay, julian. i should've been straight with you and just asked politely, but i took it out on you. i'm sorry, and i hope you can forgive me."

he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a hug

julian: "only if you forgive me, my love."

he gives you that smile that makes you believe that everything is okay

because it is and he really loves you

Felix Iskander Escell:

fighting with felix is very,,,,,, interesting

he's very stubborn and always wants to get what he wants

sometimes you just cave and do it his way because you don't have enough time to fight

more times than he'd like to admit, it's over very silly things that is just a preference for his every day life

like once you two got into a little argument about laundry day and how he needed to get all his dirty clothes together the day before, but he thought it was preposterous how he had to dig up clothes deep within his wardrobe to wear until his clothes dried

it was very useless

but sometimes you wouldn't see a proper way around doing his idea, so you fight to do yours

sage and anisa didn't particularly like getting involved in you fights, mainly because you were both ruthless and vvvv stubborn with your own points, depending what it was

felix would tell anisa that she was too uptight to understand where he was coming from

you would tell sage to butt out because he's too drunk to hear the bullshit he's spitting

you both endlessly apologise to the both of them in the end, because it's just plain rude and they didn't do anything

one time, you guys were in the middle of a fight with troops made up of sage's friends and anisa's peers, against some horribly strong enemies

felix was not good with close range attacks, so he happened to miss out on some assassin drawing in close to you, who was covering his vanguard

he calls too late as you get slashed in the back and grunt before turning around and slamming them into the way, breaking their helmet and watching the blood drip from behind it

you take a moment before stepping away and tripping back on your feet, landing on your rear as felix calls your name and stays at your side while your coworkers did what they needed to

you hear sage call out your name but felix tells him to go on while he takes care of you

felix: "i need to get you out of here. now. a... a first aid station or something."

y/n: "we're in a battlefield, felix, and the closest thing to a first aid station is that bathroom over there."

it gets blown up as soon as you say that

y/n: "nevermind."

felix: "then i'll find a way to assist you here."

felix knew nothing about closing wounds and how to heal them quickly with magic

he once tried the same thing with sage and he ended up in a ghost form for two hours, where he haunted felix and messed with anisa's hair

he was panicking though

he needed to help you

felix pulls off his coat and wraps it around you, pulling your arms through the sleeves since he knew if anyone saw one of their leaders injured then they'd be disheartened

anisa had warned them about that

y/n: "not now, we have things to do."

felix: "but you'll bleed out before you can finish anything useful! y/n, just allow me to bandage you up."

y/n: "you'll have an easier time the faster we finish this fight, come on."

you stand up, ready to continue with your weapon in hand when felix yanks you back with some magic

you look at him confused

felix: "haven't you ever read those tales? the injured back away from the war, y/n, not rush into it again."

y/n: "this is all we've got. nobody else is going to fight for us except for us."

felix: "don't be so deluded! listen to me—"

y/n: "after."

and you sprint off with your weapon, heading towards the group anisa is leading

this area was clear, and you trusted felix to know better than to wander off without any help

you're doing well so far, since you were wearing a black cloak over your back

sage was fairly good with a sword so he had taught you to use one

you told anisa to go on ahead so that you could make a round to find any other enemies that would be holed up in this facility

the fight was continuing outside

just as you get the area cleared, you feel your arm being tugged in the opposite direction

out of pure instinct, you flip them over your shoulder and hold them down harshly

takes you a moment to realise it's felix

you immediately let go and get off of him, calling out his name in surprise

y/n: "god, felix are you alright? you shouldn't scare me like that!"

he doesn't answer you for a moment before he slowly gets up and turns to face you, hand on his head

felix: "i'm taking you home."

y/n: "we're not finished!"

felix: "i do not care for this stupid war! you're bleeding through your back and i can tell how much pain is residing within! do not test my patience! my decision is final!"

all the yelling runs to his head, making it worse as he grips his hair

when he pulls his palm away, blood begins to drip down from his hairline

you're staring at him

you must've hit him hard,,,

felix: "i'm... i'm fine..."

and he passes out

you're kind of torn, because you need to get out there and fight but you also don't know who can look after felix

you groan as you haul him onto your back, making way for a nearby tower that you could hide in

felix used to teach you a few things about offensive magic, but gave you books about it since he wasn't able to teach that stuff

so you were shooting magic fire arrows at enemies when felix wakes up, bandage around his head and throbbing pain everywhere

you only had just enough for him

you look to him for a moment, focused look before turning to the field

you hated arguing with felix

this might not have seen like much to anyone but this was a breach for you

you trusted felix in his study, making plans, doing crazy experiments

and he was supposed to trust you on the field and protecting the others

it was like he didn't think you would do right here

you hated that

you spent so long to earn the respect of people around you in Porrima and anisa had warned you that many fighters did not trust you

you needed to prove how good you were and how much you intended to help

you promised to be on the front lines

but now, you were in a tower providing sniper aid while your lover was trying to recollect what happened

you shoot another arrow, getting an enemy square in the shoulder

y/n: "done whining?"

felix: "excuse me?"

y/n: "i only stayed back to make sure you were okay. they're expecting me out there."

felix: ",,, you didn't even treat your own wounds, y/n."

y/n: "busy."

he's so confused

why don't you just take a break???

it's not that hard???

felix knows a certain telepathy spell that lasts a few seconds for him, so he decides a quick look into that head of yours should help him understand better

you were only a few feet away from him, pulling back another magic arrow before you feel felix tug on your arm, making your arrow shoot within the room

it sputters around the room, hitting all the walls around the both of you

you tackle felix down and hold his head to your chest, making sure he was covered so he didn't get hit and you're also getting irritated

the arrows shoots out the window and you pull yourself up, taking a breath of relief

you shoot a look to felix

y/n: "what the hell is going on with you? what were you thinking?"

felix: ",,,,,"

y/n: "felix, we don't have any time for this! we're in deep shit right now, i don't need you trying to pull me out of the fight when i need to be there!"

you stand up, grabbing your sword and opening a portal like how felix taught you too

you're about to walk through

felix: "you don't need to prove yourself to anyone, y/n."

you stop and turn around to him, asking him what he said

felix: "none of this is of your concern, y/n. this is porrima's affairs and you are not even from here. i don't understand why you would make this a problem of your own."

you're still confused as to why he's saying these things

the portal closes behind you, making felix give a sigh of relief

he stands, carefully

y/n: "i'm fighting for my friends and their home"

felix: "you're fighting for the sake of being known, being seen as someone. y/n, that is selfish and you know it yourself. don't let a dream like that delude you from what is reality."

his words are harsh and he knows this, because if he doesn't speak this way then he won't get his point across properly

you look like you've seen a ghost

you're horrified

because you know he's been through your mind

a part of you knows that it's true

y/n: "shut up. you don't know what you're talking about."

felix: "i was just in your thoughts, y/n, i know. you shouldn't think of yourself something you are not."

y/n: "i'm trying to help! what do you want?"

felix: "you need medical attention. you're... you're back is drenched in crimson and you look pained whenever you draw back an arrow."

you shake your head at him because you can't believe how selfish he is making you sound, so much that you'd risk your own life to be seen as a god in the end?

you throw your sword to the wall

and grip felix's collar harshly

he's startled at the sudden movement

y/n: "listen. i've become too close to everyone here to just let them die. you have to let me do this."

felix isn't worried about himself in this situation like he would be whenever someone stronger began to threaten him

he's seen into your head so he knows where you are mentally

he only holds onto your wrists

felix: "you don't always have to be the savior, y/n, there are other people in the world."

y/n: ",,, and what if they fail?"

you've been burdened with all of this because of the mystery around your sudden appearance making everyone either think you were a traitor/assassin sent to kill them all, or some powerful all knowing being

you worked hard to get everyone's respect and attention

no way are you letting that all down now

but you're pushing yourself way too hard

you're shaking and your grip is getting looser

felix: "well... if you really want to, then you should face them when you're healed and okay. no point in trying to save the world when you're low on health, correct?"

y/n: ",,, right. but... but i can still help them."

felix: "of course you can, but please allow me to heal your back first."

you nod your head before sliding off the jacket, letting felix see the damage done, it was a lot

after he finishes, you apologise immediately and he does so too

he gives you a shy kiss to show that it's fine now, and by the sounds of it, the fight has stopped

you two meet up with sage and anisa and explain the situation that had happened, and they understand immediately after seeing how much bandaging your back needed, in private of course. your whole area from your chest to your waist band, blood still seeping through your back

in the end, everyone praised your bravery and nobody blames you, making you feel a lot more better about yourself

Sage Lesath:

sage is

not the ideal person to get into a fight with

not only does he constantly hide his emotions from everyone else until the bottle can't handle anymore, but he also blows up and says a lot of hurtful things when he's upset

however this is with anyone, he just gets so frustrated that he ends up tearing the person he's arguing with a new wound

he gets very emotional when he fights

tears are almost a given

yelling and headaches

but sage tries to get better

when he hears it himself after he says it, he instantly regrets even opening his mouth

immediately tries to apologise to whoever he yelled at, but there are a few times where he's gone too far

that would mean the person he yelled at would need a day or even a week to fully forgive him for what he's said, and more often than not it's someone he's close with, which makes it even worse

but sage knows when he goes too far

it's just that he has a hard time getting over it himself

this has happened between the two of you at some point in your relationship

you guys had been on the rocky side of things because he had a fight with anisa and felix about something important and you had just walked in as it hit the middle of it

you asked what was going on, and when they explained it to you, you had agreed with the duo rather than with sage

that made him frustrated, because now it felt like the world was against him today

and he started yelling at you as well

y/n: "sage, there wasn't another way to go around it. anisa and felix made the right decision, they couldn't do anything else."

sage: "maybe if they listened to me, then we wouldn't be in an even bigger mess!"

y/n: "nothing has changed though. we're just in the same spot, so we can retry everything."

sage: "oh my god, but this was the perfect opportunity to move forward! and those two dumbasses wasted it!"

you tried to calm him down even more and the other two have stopped talking at this point

you don't like it when sage faces his problems without a good mindset, you can tell he is frustrated by what happened and can't see the bigger picture

sage just doesn't understand why you can't see things the way he is

both of them recognise that this is no longer about them but about you, which makes them confused

why did it suddenly change? was it because you were involved now?

sage had already had a go at anisa and felix, spitting some harsh words at them that the two only overlooked as they knew about him and how he acted at these times

however, it lingered in their head about whether or not sage would go that far with you

y/n: "calm down, please. it's already happened, so we might as well just figure out our next course of action."

sage: "oh to hell with that. where were you when all of this went down, huh?"

y/n: "i... i was here."

you backed down for a moment, feeling a little useless at this point

anisa realised how sage was going to take this and stepped in herself

anisa: "i asked y/n to stay, sage, that was my fault. if you are angry with that, then discuss it with me."

you didn't like it when either of them fought, but what could you do?

sage was in no agreeing manner and anisa held firm to her statement

it was incredibly hard to sort things out in this group

sage: "but that's it. y/n was here while we were out there risking our own lives. what's the point of you being here if you aren't going to help us?"

y/n: "i am helping! anisa asked me to gather whatever information i could about the opposition!"

felix was about to ask what you found, since you had asked him to transport you to a very enemy secluded area and he was worried about your safety

but he was ignored

you two were still going at it

sage: "well that's now fucking useless, isn't it? we lost."

y/n: "you didn't lose."

sage: "and how would you know? you weren't even there!"

felix and anisa seat themselves down

at this point, there's no trying to stop them or even separate them

this had gone on for too long to go back, so they had to ride it out

it goes on, your frustration building up so much that you start to yell just out of pure frustration with sage

he falls deeper and deeper into the hole, pulling out things that would surely anger you further from just hearing about it

it would usually be that the two leave the room, but they haven't seen you this heated before

it was strange and they wanted to be careful, especially considering that you haven't mastered using your relic yet

sage: "you're so single-minded, oh my god! i just want you to see things my way, is that so hard for you?"

y/n: "sage, you can't expect someone to put themselves in your shoes if you can't do it for yourself! anisa and felix could've died out there and all you care about is winning that one fight! there will be others to redeem yourself if your pride and reputation as a mercenary means that much to you!"

you don't mean that

you know how much he cares for his friends but you're baffled by the fact that he'd prioritise the mission over them

and you're sure that they are as upset as you are

they give each other a look before listening in to the both of you

you were usually the calm one in this situation and it would take a lot to rile you up

and these two didn't know if your relic would come out to play in these times

you weren't someone who would resort to violence in a fight but your emotions are tied to your weapon, so if you were pushed far enough then it would appear

sage: "i don't even know why you even got involved in the first place."

y/n: "because you're acting crazy at the moment"

sage: "you keep saying i'm overreacting when you won't even hear me out."

y/n: "calm down first. you don't know what you're saying when you get this angry."

he's walking up to you and is now standing right in front

he's glaring holes into your head and getting more heated up that necessary

you've never been afraid of sage and you aren't now

you know that no matter what, sage would never ever hit you

and of course he wasn't going to

standing right up in front of the person he was arguing with was a habit that he had formed after years of having to fight for himself with no one to back him up

it was like an unconscious practice between him and fighting with anyone

so when he got up in your face, you didn't think anything of it

sage: "you know, y/n, what you have to say doesn't even matter. you're just some random person felix brought from another world, you don't matter when it comes to our lives. you mean nothing to what we have to do. to us."

this was the first time that he had hit that deep part in your heart

a sense of alienation when it came to you and porrima

you had mentioned this to sage before when you were feeling homesick a few days after your arrival

you were very vulnerable at that point and sage was there to help comfort you

you never brought it up again because everyone had made you feel a part of their lives and more comfortable, considering you were in a whole different time

when sage hears what he said, his head begins to reel at his sheer stupidity but he doesn't let it show on his face

he still believes that he is right

his pride gets in the way a lot

anisa: "that is far enough, sage."

she's angry with him, mostly because she had never believed that sage would treat y/n the same way he treated them in arguments

she believed that y/n was the only one who could properly calm sage down but it seemed this was just a bit too much

felix is wide eyed at the both of you, still processing what was happening

this was the first

he hadn't pictured sage yelling at you like that

and what was worse is that you feeling alienated was more of a silent secret kept between the group because of the nature of you coming into this world

everyone had a hint of it

but you hadn't actually told them, which made this even worse

you trusted sage with this and now he just confirmed it and resurfaced the problem when you were so close to forgetting about it

felix: "sage, that was a bit much, don't you think? it was uncalled for."

sage: "you—... i just..."

anisa: "are you alright, y/n?"

everyone's eyes are on you now

you give your best calm smile

y/n: "i'm fine. i supposed that clears that up."

everyone knew you weren't talking about the argument between the three

you left to your bedroom right after that, feeling your face burn with embarrassment and your chest tightening

anisa and felix were lecturing sage about it, making his tail only brush against the floor beneath them

they leave soon after

you had originally gone in there to give anisa the information she needed, written on a few sheets of paper, so the knight took that and began on her way to building the next step

felix wanted to come along as well, seeing as y/n needed time for herself and sage wasn't in the companying mood

sage would be in the study by himself for a while

until it was dinner time

he went into the dining room to see anisa and felix seated down, already beginning to eat what was prepared

sage: "where's y/n?"

felix: "hasn't left the bedroom. i tried already, but my efforts were useless."

anisa: "perhaps i should try again."

but before she can stand up fully, sage is already scooping up the two dinner plates and utensils in his grasp, leaving the dining hall against felix's calls

he's in front of your room in under a minute, using his foot to gently knock of the door

sage: ",,, hey, um... it's me? can i come in?"

he's met with silence

sage: "anisa and felix said you didn't come down for dinner, so i brought it up with me here. i was hoping we could eat together... and talk...?"

he hears a few shuffles before you open the door, allowing him to come inside

he sets the plates on the desk before engulfing you in a tight hug, arms around her shoulders and head dug into your shoulder

he's apologising almost immediately, which stops you because it happened all so quick

y/n: "hey..."

sage: "i was such an ass to you and you don't deserve any of that. i know how hard it is for you and i didn't help. i don't think you're nothing, and those two sure as hell don't. you..."

his grip on you tightens as strands of his hair falls over your eyes

he takes a shaky breath in

sage: "you're the first thing to mean everything to me. so please, forgive me. i'll do whatever it takes to make up for this."

he's crying and you are as you wrap your arms around his torso

y/n: "please don't talk about that anymore..."

sage: "i promise."

y/n: "okay,,, i'm really sorry about everything i said. i know you were worried about the others and that you're better than your pride. but i... i still think they made the right decision."

he takes a moment before brushing fingers on the back of your neck as a reassuring act

sage: "i understand. they probably did, i have no idea what was going on, i was freaking knocked out."

you asked if he was okay and he responds with tilting his head so his cheek is facing you

sage: "kiss it better?"

of course, you obliged

[lollytea]

Random thought, but i kinda want Perry Porter and Mattholomule interaction in the aftermath of the Day of Unity. Perry is distraught looking for Gus, and Matt very awkwardly tries to reassure him, and Perry promises to help Matt find Steve.

I could see Mattholomule getting separated from his parents while all three of them are out looking for Steve. And he's having a difficult time finding anybody because there are people everywhere and it's chaos and he's tiny and keeps getting lost in the crowd.

Mattholomule hasn't seen Steve in person in about a month. He hasn't heard from him since a little after the Hexside Invasion when they had a pensta convo over how the Emperor's Coven kinda sucked honestly.

"Does this mean you're gonna quit now?" Mattholomule had asked.

"Idk what I'm gonna do little man" Steve had responded.

That had been the last message from Steve. Since then? Radio silence.

Their parents are scared half to death. Mattholomule swears that when he finds that idiot he's gonna punch him. Then hug him. Then punch him again.

And at some point Mattholomule happens upon Perry Porter, who's on his hands and knees, desperately trying to piece a shattered crystal ball back together so he can make a broadcast to the Isles and get a message out to his son. He's muttering under his breath in his news anchor voice, practising what he's going to say.

Perry has tried to "text" Augustus several times but has gotten no response. He's even attempted a "live stream" as that's how all the kids are getting their news these days but he couldn't figure out to work the stupid thing. Maybe Augustus was right. Maybe he was too set in his ways. Maybe he should have sat down and paid attention when Augustus offered to teach him how penstagram worked.

There were a lot of cases where he should have paid more attention to Augustus. Maybe if he was a more attentive father he would have noticed his son (who was legally a wanted criminal) sneaking out of the house 24 hours before the Day of Unity. If Perry had just been more alert, his son wouldn't have disappeared without a trace.

"Yeah no offense, Mr. Porter but I don't think there's anything you could've done." Says Mattholomule. He's sat down next to Perry, helping him puzzle out the broken glass. "If Augustus sets his mind to something, nothing is gonna stop him. He's a jerk like that. And I get that you're a good Dad or whatever but he woulda found a way around you."

"How? You really think a thirteen year old boy could outsmart me?" Perry asks.

Mattholomule flushes. He's never been the most polite kid to be around but he's always felt compelled to have some semblance of manners around his only friend's father.

Before he can stutter out a "I didn't mean it like that!" Perry quietly chuckles.

"Because you're correct, he could. Augustus is smarter than the best of us. I raised a genius and I guess I have to deal with the consequences. I can only hope that big brain of his has kept him safe."

"Ehh. Usually does." Matt shrugs dismissively. "That and his stupid illusions. You should see the stuff that kid can do in a fight. Betcha he could make an army of scouts piss their pants."

"Language."

"Oh. Sorry."

"But I hope you're right. Smart as he is, it's only recently that he's learned how to use magic to defend himself. He's never been much for duels."

There's a silence as this sinks in. Sure, Gus can handle himself. Mattholomule has seen him in action.

But...

Sometimes it's just by the skin of his teeth.

"I think Willow is with him." Perry mentions suddenly, as if reading Mattholomule's mind. "Harvey told me she snuck out too. And I hope she's found but....it's a comfort to think she's by his side."

"For what it's worth, it's probably not just her. I bet he's also got the homeless guy with him."

Perry blinks "Homeless guy?"

"Y'know. That one dude. The one Gus spends all his free time with now. Golden Guard turned homeless guy."

"You mean Hunter?"

Mattholomule snaps his fingers. "That's the bitch!"

"Language."

Mattholomule offers to show him how to stream properly to get this message out to Augustus and Perry cannot thank him enough.

After a series of trial and error, Perry realizes that repairing the crystal ball just simply isn't going to happen. Mattholomule could have told him that but felt he should humor him to prevent his mental breakdown from escalating.

He figures that, if anything, the methodical work of puzzle solving at least steadied Perry's anxiety. Now if he wants to make a broadcast, he'll at least have some composure.

"Before we start, could you do me a solid and request that a special man named Steve get his ass home immediately?" Asks Mattholomule peering over his scroll camera.

"Steve..." Mutters Perry, straightening his collar. "That's your brother, isn't it? The Coven Scout?"

"Oh....yeah....how'd you guess?"

"Let's..." He swallows. "Let's start the stream now, okay?"

"Augustus." Perry grins. "You're one of his closest friends. You really think he doesn't talk about you?"

The following silence is palpable. Mattholomule doesn't trust himself to speak for a long moment.

Perry's delivers Mattholomule's request to mention Steve amidst his plea for Augustus to return home. The comments are disheartening. Nobody has seen him. Nobody has seen either of them.

"Guess I gotta keep looking." Mattholomule sighs. "Titan, I can't wait to clobber this freak once I see him again."

"I'll help you." Says Perry.

"What?"

"I'll help you find your brother. It's the least I can do."

Mattholomule shifts uncomfortably. "Oh. Uh. I-I know you're going through a lot right now. Looking for Augustus n' all so it's fine if you don't wanna--aAGH!"

Mattholomule is promptly whisked off his feet and is planted atop Perry Porter's shoulders. "You can see better from up here, right?"

"Uh--I--...yeah I guess I can..."

"Excellent! We should find Steve in no time!"

Perry says nothing but this is nostalgic for him. Augustus used to ride on his shoulders when he was little. It had had stopped not too long ago actually, when Witch Puberty had added too many pounds for Perry to handle.

But Mattholomule is light as a feather. But obviously, no teenage boy wants to be told that so Perry wisely keeps his lips buttoned.

"Hey." Mattholomule says quietly. "After we find Steve and I finish pummelling him, I'm sure he'll help us look for Augustus."

"Sure" was an understatement. Mattholomule was certain that Steve would travel to the ends of the Titan's bones if it meant finding his brother's best friend. Not like his brother had many to spare.

"Thank you, Mattholomule." Says Perry, bracingly squeezing the boy's calves. "I appreciate it."

[boombambaby]

Watching her take it all in makes all the extra work worth it, and he smiles as she wanders through the different rooms, looking it all over. Plumeria might just be up there with his favorite smells, now that he's surrounded by it. He was right that day, inside her locker; it's nice. Kuzco is still mid bow when she takes his hand, and he straightens himself up to watch her babble at him with a soft grin on his face. She never babbles like this-- at least not at him. Stupid Ramon.

He's glad she likes all of the little details, he had a feeling she might. While she isn't one for the opulence and the grandiose lifestyle he leads, (outside of all the high stress stuff, of course.) Kuzco will never forget how difficult it was for her to relax that time she asked him for his help. Like she's told him before; a good Emperor needs to know not only how to care for HIMSELF, but how to take care of OTHERS. She needs to learn the 'taking care of herself' part of the job, if she's going to be any good at it. That's all. And if he taught her before? There's no reason he can't teach her again. "No, no! No need to thank me, Empress. I'm just doing my job." Her offer is sweet, and while yes-- he is tempted. He's VERY, very tempted (especially with how it sounds!) -- he's determined NOT to make it all about himself, for once. "As amazing as that sounds, Your Highness, I'm NOT the Emperor. Remember? You're 'Empress for a day'-- last I checked that ends when the DAY ends." Kuzco grins and brings the back of her hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss there before letting her go all together and taking a few steps backwards, towards the door. "This is your reward for all of your hard work today, enjoy it. I've got super important servant-y. . . servant type . . . things, to do!" It's a lie, but he does have the guest room reserved for foreign dignitaries set up for himself (complete with the missing money stuffed pillows from his real room!), and he's looking forward to getting off his feet. More than anything, he wants her to enjoy this aspect of the job AND his super big, fancy room that's been his forever but feels just a LITTLE bit lonely with no one to share it with, heh. "Soo, if I'm dismissed, your Highness. . . ? "

Good! Now that it's her fault, she might pay the therapy for them.

Forgive her, she just wanted to play a little with him! Still, he's lucky she decided to give up or else Kuzco would have ended up in the grave. That's tempting! Ok, Malina will be his apprentice once she's Empress. But she proposes they sit beside each other during peasant complaints and deal with them together. "Hmph, clearly was not me, probably there's another hottie on your side. You cheater". She keeps walking and promptly ignores the fact he somehow had called her she looked sticky. Still her mind betrays her as some images ran through her mind about that comment and she almost chokes on her grape. If the whole village sees me in a maid outfit, they'd still give HIM credit for that idea- He interrupts her train of thought as he slowly says what she should start with, she waits in fear as she indeed thought it was going to be something mean. That was until he opened the doors, letting her drink in the most impressive scenery she has ever witnessed in someone's room. He has his own private spa that he's willing to let her use! Even though she was not much for fancy stuff and opulence, she found this place like heaven. Malina leans in to take a better look inside and the aroma of plumeria, her favorite flower, fills her nostrils immediately. It's incredible how Kuzco even had remembered the aroma she liked most. She watches him for a milisecond as if she was asking him for permission to begin pacing his quarters, which she does.

Her eyes wander everywhere, taking notice of every small detail she could see. Even the mint on top of the pillows, it was so foreign to her but cute. The atmosphere was so relaxing it made her feel relieved to finally take a break from the few but hard work she had done today. By the time she's done inspecting his room, a sweet tiring smile appears on her face as she turns around to look at Kuzco half bowing, still referring to her as the 'Empress'. She still can't believe a bath can be so... beautiful!

She decides to approach him and grabs his free hand that's not holding the bowl gently. "Kuzco, you did all of this for me?... Is that....I... well... thank you~" She babbles, she was still stunned due to all of this amazing treatment of his to her. She was this close to hug him while jumping up and down of excitement and happiness like a little girl but she resists the urge and she focuses her eyes solely on his. From what it looks like, he must be even more exhausted than her due that he had set all this up for her. She calms down from her excitement and suggests, knowing damn well this might sound suspicious. "Why don't you join me, huh? You look too tired too. It wouldn't be fair for the Emperor to be left out of the relaxation~".

[quellmythirst]

Week-long Seminar- Day 2 - Meetings.

Summary: Your meeting gets interrupted by a phone call, then your day gets interrupted by Billy.

Pairing: Reader x Billy Russo

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, swearing, oral, teasing, in the mouth, nudes, dirty talk.

Day 1- Arrivals

Today just seems to be dragging. It's only midday and you feel like you’ve been sitting here listening to these interviews and consultations, taking notes and trying your best to seem like you're zoning out. Even though you’ve spent these meetings busy looking into these people. No one ever noticed, all they wanted to do was talk strategies and how Hope could help them. What you really needed was into their programming, the stats on their staff and their union representation. Which they hardly ever gave you, even if it was part of your job to find these things out. This was the most fiddly and strenuous part of the job, somehow even more difficult than organising Hope's busy schedule. It was one of the things that made you proud to work with Hope though, she wouldn’t associate with any person or business who chose to treat any employee badly.

Your head snaps up when you realise Mr Hakate is about to leave. You offer him a polite nod, watching as he says something to Hope. Your eyes glancing to the side when you see movement by the door.

“Ma'am I believe our next appointment is here,” you stand, gathering your notes on the next client and placing them in front of her.

“Send them in,” Hope says in a matter of fact tone, dismissing Mr Hakate with a wave.

“Miss Bishop?” You say, stepping out of the office door and turning on the young girl. Her arms full of folders and a look of nervousness and determination in her eyes, “we’re ready to see you know.” 

“Cool… I mean thank you,” Miss Bishop says, falling into step behind you.

“Please take a seat, Miss Bishop,” Hope opens the file on the young applicant.

”Miss Bishop is applying for our internship program.” you offer the woman a kind smile.

“I see, it says here Miss- may I call you Kate?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It says here that you are set to study English, with a major in classic literature. So may I ask why you are seeking an internship at a technology firm?”

“See, Like, the thing is. I kind of-'' she shifts in her chair, her hands fidgeting on her lap “- what I need help with is developing my interpersonal skills and networking capabilities and I've watched your career Miss van Dyne. You brought your fathers company back from the brink of ruin and I would very much like to learn from you.”

You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. No number. You ignore it, hoping that it will stop, but it keeps ringing and ringing and you can feel Hope's annoyed side eye on you, “Excuse me, ma'am I have to take this.”

“In the hall,” Hope dismisses you and you watch Kate, her eyes going wide when it sinks in that she’s about to be alone with whom you can only assume she looks up to. Her eyes dart from the door to your face, flicking down when she sees you draw a pen from your bag. You place a little sticky note down next to Hope's tablet, a tiny little 100%. Indicating that you would very much like her to say yes to Kate Bishop. “I'm going to grab a coffee, while I’m out I'll be back soon.”

“Could you get me-”

“Yes ma'am, I'll grab you a sandwich while I'm there.”

“Hello, Hope van Dyne's office,” you say, gathering up your things.

“Caught you at work did I?” Billy's voice is deep and mocking with a tiny hint of smug laughter.

“No sir, I am available to talk,” you keep up the ruse as you make your way towards the door.

“Sir, I like that. Say it again,”

“Of course Sir, though we are quite busy,”

“Have you got any free time?”

“We have meetings all day and unfortunately are unable to fit you in,” you smile at a passing group, when you begin to walk down the hall towards the elevator. 

“I know where I'd like to fit in,” He laughs at the coughing noise you make in reply, “Where are you?”

“Yes, that’s correct Sir,” you say as a group of interns pass you in the hall, “All of our consultations are conducted on the 8th floor.”

“Can you consult with me Baby? I got some things I’d like to go over with you,”

“I would be more than happy to oblige you at another time. However as I mentioned, I am quite busy right now,”

“Did she send you out for coffee like the cute little assistant you are?”

“Do you also require a refreshment Sir?,” 

“You know I do and you know what my favourite thing to drink is,”

“Certainly, it is my job to remember things.”

“What do I need to do Baby?”

“Perhaps you can find someone else to assist you, Sir.”

“No, I found exactly what I want,” the line goes dead when you pass by the smaller offices, thinking it may just be a bad area until an arm wraps around your waist and spins you into a door that has somehow closed behind you. 

“There you are,” Billy smiles, his body pressing yours into the wood of the door, “how long you got?” 

“About 20 minutes,” 

“I would prefer longer, but I can work with that,” his hands tuck under your ass, lifting you and carrying you over the large table.

“What can we do in 20 Sir?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I can convince you to give me longer,” he says, moving your hand down to his hard and swollen length, guiding you around the thick base and pumping himself. “Love feeling your little hands on my cock”

“Really?” you whisper in a sultry tone, “What else do you like to feel, Sir?” you press him back, walking him around until the back of his calves hit the office chair. He ass falling back into the chair, when you give him another push.

“You want to ride me baby?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, your eyes darting from his cock to his face. You glide your hands down his thighs, sinking to your knees in front of him, keeping eye contact until you're settled on the ground. You had been dreaming of this since yesterday, you need him. Your mouth aching to taste him in the way he had done to you.

Your soft lips ghosts over him, tongue nipping out to swipe at the swollen head. His long fingers twine through your hair, pulling the strays from your face, cupping at the back of your neck. “Baby,” his voice almost pleading, trying to guide you forward. His tone sends pulses through your pussy, feeling your panties start to soak with the sounds he's making. You don’t stop teasing him. The thrill of having him like putting in your hand for once too much fun and is definitely exciting you in a way you haven't experienced before. Your hand wraps around the base, your tongue licking the long vein underneath him. Your eyes not leaving his, watching him twitch and jerk as he tries to get the friction he craves.

“Yes?” you peer up at him.

“Put it in your mouth, Baby,” 

You can’t resist any longer, swallowing the tip into your soft lips, your tongue swiping at him. Your teeth graze along his cock, in a way that you knew would make him moan. “Fuck your mouth is so warm,” His fingers clench at your hair, the sting sending shocks of pleasure down your spine as you take more and more of him into your mouth. "Such a good whore,” hollowing your cheeks when your head bobs back, your hand pumping all of him that couldn't fit into your mouth. 

Drool starts falling from your mouth, Billy’s quiet moans filling your ears, “Fuck you’re so messy Baby,” he wipes the spit from your chin, licking it into his mouth, watching you. His hand moves to grip the arm of the chair, trying to to hold himself back from face fucking you. “You’re so fuckin pretty,” he coos, wiping the tears from your eyes when he hits the back of your throat.

You lick and lap at the head of his cock every time he pulls from your delicious mouth. Precum seeping into your mouth, the salty tang pushing you further and faster. “Do me a favor?” Billy asks breathlessly, “Send me pictures when you’re alone tonight,” You need more, want to taste him, want his cum to paint the inside of your little throat. Fuck, you'll do whatever he wants, you peer up at him giving him a small nod while gripping your hands tighter at his base. His eyes flick towards the door. “Shit,”

He leans forward just as you hear the door open behind you. Billy shifts hiding your from anyone who would dare to come close. His strong hand on the back of your neck stills your movements, but you need it, need more of it. You can barely hear the conversation with the pleasure ringing in your ears.

“General Ross, can I help you?” Billy says, trying to sound like a normal human with your pretty mouth wrapped around him. 

“Mr Russo, I believe you're in my office,” you hear an older man say.

“No Sir. This is my office. I’m sure yours-'' Billy tries to compose himself as you roll your tongue along the thickness that's trapped in your mouth. His hands tugging on your hair, trying to tell you to stop. But you can’t, you want him to cum. He coughs to cover his moan “-yours is probably one of the large offices down the hall.”

“Indeed,” is all the man says before you hear the door slam shut.

“You dirty little slut,” Billy leans back, staring down at you shaking his head, “I didn't think you wanted-” you hollow your cheeks, pressing your tongue onto him and shut your eyes, sealing your lips around him. Billy can't help the way he reacts, his hands holding your neck while he ruts into your mouth. “FUck- like that” he moans, his hips jerking wildly. ”You want my cum, Baby?” you nod vigorously, your eyes feeling glazed over as your stare up at him, “Promise me the pictures,” you blink, “Promise,” his squeeze eyes shut, holding back his release, “Promise,” he moans again, you move your hand from his hip, his cock stilling down your throat as you cross your heart, “Good girl, I’m gunna-” he groans, his ass lifting from the chair, standing so he can get a better angle into your mouth. Fucking into it with fervor. Your moans vibrate along the length of him, his legs shake, wordless praise dripping from his mouth, spit dripping from yours as you lap at the cum that spurts into your mouth, “all of it Baby,”

You suck harder, grip on his hips, taking him all the way down so you don't miss a drop of his delicious cum. You moan, your panties completely drenched when he leaves your mouth. A long finger swipes along your bottom lip catching a fallen piece and thrusting it into your mouth. You suck and lick at his finger until he pulls it away.

“Such a good little whore for me. You wet Baby?” his hand grips your chin bringing your face up to his and into a deep kiss. His tongue swipes through your mouth so he can taste himself inside you. “I want to eat you Baby,” he tries to move his hands to your skirt but you step back, regaining your brain.

“Times up,” you wink, feeling just a little bit smug that this time you managed to get one over on him.

“No,” he grabs your arm when you turn to leave, “just a little taste,”

“Time waits for no man,” you smirk, giving him a chaste kiss.

“Don't forget my pictures,” Billy winks when you stick your head into the empty hall.

“I won't.” you promise crossing your heart again and stepping into the empty hall and try to remember what exactly you were meant to get Hope for lunch.

Xx

It didn’t take much convincing at all for Hope to agree to sign on Kate Bishop, the rest of the day went rather smoothly considering you were definitely more focused on the cum that was pooling in your stomach and not your actual fucking job. Fuck, you can’t stop thinking about him. These photos had to be good, you had to somehow affect him the way he was fucking with you.

When you get back to your room, you freshen up your hair and makeup, setting up the ring light you normally use for zoom meetings and begin to take all your clothes off before dimming the lights. You start on the floor, arching your back and sticking your ass in the air towards the camera. Next you move to the bed, the sheet teasing at what lies beneath. Deciding that that isn't enough, you slip off your panties, hooking them off the end of your heels, laying on your tummy with your legs behind you. You roll over onto your back, your face peering up at the camera, the sheet twisting down your middle. You roll again, messing up your hair as you stare into the camera and arch your back, crawling towards the camera.

Going through you select a few of your favourites to edit when you're done, moving the rest to a secure folder.

You move to the bathroom, stopping in the doorway to take photos of your silhouette. You lean on the door frame with your hands above your head, pressing your ass back and your tits out. Peering into the bathroom gives you an idea, you don’t have any candles around so that was a no go. So instead, you set your stand up and hope the steam from the awfully hot shower you intend on having doesnt wreck your phone. You turn the light off, leaving only the lights from the other room stream in. Which lined up almost perfectly to where you would be standing in the shower. Pressing yourself into the glass, your hand sliding down the condensation like in the Titanic. 

You turn down the shower after you’ve actually cleaned yourself, sliding the door open, you peek over your shoulder at where you had left your phone, looking down at how sizzly your skin has gotten. Wrapping a soft, plushy towel around your middle, you dry off before flopping yourself on your bed and plugging your phone in. You see that you only have one message, 

Forget about me already Baby?

The attachment opens and you see those long fingers dipping into his tie as he loosens it. Holy Fuck. HOw? HoW does he know? Has he seen you looking at his hands? Fucker!

You scroll through the hundreds of pictures you have now, deleting all the ones that you didn’t like. Saving around 40 that, well- they made you feel like a fucking goddess, you look stunning in them. You decide on one that wasn’t as risque to start with, really you hadn’t even thought of it. Your turning, your heel kicked up, your fingers sliding down the zip on your skirt, your back exposed and your dark lacy bra on display. Your hair falling perfectly, a lip snagged in your teeth while you concentrate on not falling over. 

I could never forget you

You tuck yourself into bed and wait for his reply, you think you may have fucked up and it takes him so long to reply that you pour yourself a glass of wine and open your laptop.

That all you got?

You’ve already picked out your next picture, your ass on display as you move in the bed, your hair flipped over your shoulder, the sheets tangled in your legs, your hand in the band of your panties in the process of removing them. No message, just the picture. You sip your wine, waiting eagerly for his reply.

What room you in?

Another picture, you look breathless, your eyes staring off into the distance. Your hair messy, head hanging off the edge of the bed with your knees in the air, your almost bare middle exposed to him.

Tell me what room you’re in, Baby.

The last photo you had picked to send him was your favourite. Your hand rests on the doorframe of the bathroom, your silhouette highlighted by the lights behind you, showing off the curves of your waist, legs and ass. Your face was obscured, which worked well because you can tell how naked you are in this picture.

Goodnight Sir.

Downing the last of your wine, giggling to yourself before your nestle into your pillow. Ignoring the constant buzzing of your phone.

Day 3 - Distracted.

AN: So? did you like it? Too much? I wanted reader to get some ground, she needed the chance to have a bit of power of Billy and teasing him is alot of fun.

Taglist: Plz let me know if you want to be added.

@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriendagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @profoundme444 @misstimeless

@restingbitchsblog @nyctophiliiiaa @noortsshift @all-art-is-quite-useless

[superbdragoncollection-stuff]

Thoughts on Separate Tides and Allergen Representation; an Essay

“No appleblood. I spent the money on gryphon eggs for Luz. There’s not a lot she can digest here, so I make sure I have her favorites around.”

“Because you stuck with me, you lost your magic! You almost got turned to stone, and now you can’t even afford your appleblood because you’re worried about what I need to eat!”

This episode had a very surprising, and very sweet display of allergen representation. I really appreciate Luz’s issues and anxieties in this episode. While it’s presented in a fantasy way, when she explains how upset she is about her food restrictions, it speaks to a real issue affecting people with allergies and digestive problems. As someone with a food allergy growing up, the moments really spoke to me. I have Celiac Disease, which means that my body can’t digest gluten, a protein in wheat. I can eat the stuff physically, and the symptoms aren’t obvious like a peanut allergy. This makes it difficult to detect. The way it manifests is that my stomach can’t digest the protein. It will go through my small intestine, and tear up the lining of the organ that absorbs food, and what remains of the lining has a hard time absorbing other nutrients, causing me to essentially starve. These symptoms don’t appear immediately, taking days, weeks, or even months to register, making it even more difficult to detect. While gluten is something health nuts are obsessed with lately, it is a very real threat to people with my condition. My food can’t share the same plate, can’t share the same space; if they even so much as come into contact I have to scrap the whole meal just for safety’s sake. When I was younger, before I was diagnosed, I didn’t grow an inch for two years because my body had gone into maintaining the bare minimum needed for survival. My bones think they’re younger than they actually are. When I was diagnosed and I recovered, I grew a lot. What spoke to me in this episode was Luz’s discomfort and distress at Eda’s money troubles when it comes to food. It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t mean, it was really meaningful, it’s a fact of life. It’s much like how Eda’s condition was treated in the first episode she appeared, just a part of life. Gluten free food is expensive, finding places that won’t actively poison me is exhausting, and I’m constantly worried about cross contamination. Even a few crumbs can be a problem. Frequently I will feel like a burden, like I’m being pedantic even though this is vital to my health. I cannot live off food with gluten, I will die. Yet it still feels as if I’m a burden. I’m right there with Luz; hearing people having to talk about our food sensitivities, and having to accommodate us, even if it's in a loving way like Eda said, is upsetting. I’m also going to guess that like me, Luz is also a picky eater even amongst stuff she can eat. On school trips, I always needed special treatment; it tended to be something that I don’t care for even if it was gluten free, or dry sandwiches I brought from home while my peers chowed down on pizza. I remember the looks everyone gave me. I have to explain to every single restaurant I find my condition. Even if they’re understanding, it’s a pain. Luz has been confirmed to be neurodivergent, and I am right there with her as well. It takes an immense amount of mental energy to find restaurants, to find the right menus, find the ones with the right accommodations. Food can’t even be cooked in the same fryer if I want to avoid cross-contamination. It’s terrifying and upsetting to constantly have to go to the front of the line and ask for what feels like conspicuous special treatment. As a neurodivergent person, social anxiety makes this so much worse. I constantly fear the cooks are cursing me under their breath for inconveniencing them, I fear that people behind me are whispering and that any moment a hand will land on my shoulder and demand I get to the back of the line with everyone else. Sometimes I will get food that I simply don’t like, or hasn’t been cooked right. Asking to have it fixed is terrifying, and I fear the people around me even more. Luz may not be super poor on Earth, but she voiced a lot of anxieties and frustration that people like me have. I'm from a well off family that could afford the additional expense of gluten free food, but I can’t imagine what a nightmare it is for real families who can’t afford gluten free food, or who can’t even

afford a diagnosis. To add insult to injury, many people will mock or dismiss us as being liars, pedantic, or just picky. It is a common thing to mock people with gluten free preferences; the Angry Birds movie made fun of it. I hear people complain about how expensive the food is even if they don’t have to eat it. People will offer me bread even after I explain to them what it will do to me. Dennys seems to have adopted a chain-wide proclamation to refuse to accommodate gluten free people. I have not eaten there in three years, because we experienced serious food problems in restaurants in Virginia and Vermont. Virtually every time I entered a Dennys three years ago, I would ask for a plate of plain and simple chicken that normally comes with toast, and I ask them to remove that; somehow, they would always screw up the order by putting glutinous bread right on top and ruining the whole meal. Yes, we are that sensitive to contamination. If it even touches the food the meal is ruined. Once, it was understandable because the waiter had been awake for eighteen hours. The other times were not. I saw the waiters argue with the other staff, I had a manager once come out to explain my own disease to me, even as two pieces of toast just sat there stewing on my chicken. That feeling of being a burden, of hearing people argue about trying to help you, stings very much. Some people will assume that we just don’t like wheat; I’ve heard horror stories of people trying to “prove” someone didn’t have Celiac Disease by secretly putting it in their food. The fact that we don’t go into anaphylactic shock when we consume it makes this a common problem as it leads them to assume it’s not an issue. It being a fad diet has also made my life worse; I have to constantly specify that I am not just gluten free, that I have an actual medical condition. I have to carry cards in my wallet to explain the situation. It feels like the world around me conspires to keep me from being healthy. And it feels like the world hates people like me for it. The best representation I’ve ever gotten for Celiac Disease was a CollegeHumor sketch. Most of the time, allergen representation is a joke, even if it’s informative and not meant to be mean. The Owl House breaks that trend with these two little exchanges. “No appleblood. I spent the money on gryphon eggs for Luz. There’s not a lot she can digest here, so I make sure I have her favorites around.” “Because you stuck with me, you lost your magic! You almost got turned to stone, and now you can’t even afford your appleblood because you’re worried about what I need to eat!” Luz’s snap at Eda about her food sensitivities is something I feel. I don’t often get allergen representation like this, especially any as loving and kind as this. Even to family, who love and support me, I can feel like a burden, as if there’s something wrong with me that is somehow my fault, and not the fault of a genetic disease dating back thousands of years. It’s deeply upsetting and frustrating to experience this. No matter who it comes from, it hurts a lot. I’m glad The Owl House captured this feeling perfectly. It’s good to know I’m not alone here. I’m glad to see representation where facts of my life aren’t seen as a joke.

[imagineredwood]

14. Red lipstick and cigarettes 💋🚬(Angel)

Summary: You and Angel broke up weeks ago and haven’t had any form of contact since, but when luck has you both end up at the same bar, the flame reignites. 

Request: Aesthetics 14 with Angel, happy ending

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader 

Warnings: Mentions of breakups, heartbreak, angst but with a happy ending 

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Can someone tell me why this “drabble” is 1.4k when my regular stories struggle to hit that many 🥴

Angel takes another sip from his beer before putting the bottle down, his ringed hand coming up to bring the half-gone cigarette up to his lips. He takes a long drag, lungs burning as he holds it in for longer than usual, a cloud of smoke billowing around him as he lets out a slow breath. The cloud surrounds him and he can't help but see it as a demonstration of how he's felt lately.

Cloudy.

Hazy.

Out of focus.

It's been weeks since you and he had split, and despite what everyone had said, it had not gotten easier. On the contrary. It seemed like every day it got even harder to deal with. It had been mutual; both of you agreeing that Angel just wasn't around as much as you wanted him to be. The club took a lot of his time, and his side business with Los Olvidados took up even more. You missed him and while he wanted nothing more than to give you every little bit of his attention, the club had to come first. It had been heartbreaking, tears shed on both sides, but you both knew that it was for the better. Best to break things off civilly before it came to a head and lead to a blow-up.

Even still, it wasn't something that either of you wanted, more a necessary evil. You had kept your distance, neither of you contacting the other nor meeting up. You had stayed away from the clubhouse, something that had proven harder than you had anticipated. EZ and Coco had taken Angel out to a local bar, hoping to get the Mayan to relax and let go for the night. It had proven difficult, Angel simply smoking and drinking in near silence, only speaking when spoken to. When he heard your voice, he figured it was just his imagination, his brain taunting him for his decision to let you go. He scoffed, disgusted with his own mind for toying with him like that. It wasn't until he heard your voice again, closer this time as it ordered your favorite drink that he sat up straighter, head whipping around to look down the bar.

And there you were, arms resting on the shiny counter as you leaned forward, talking to the bartender.

You looked stunning.

Your skin was glowing, the warm lights in the bar casting shadows and accenting highlights. He could see the slight shimmer on your shoulder, knowing exactly which lotion you were wearing. And he could smell you then, his brain tapping into his senses. He could remember running the tip of his nose along your shoulder blade as you rubbed the lotion into your skin after a shower,  the scent of you intoxicating. You looked the same too, though the red on your lips was something a bit new. You only wore it every now and then, when the mood struck you. Angel could remember vividly the time he had left your house in a rush early in the morning, only to be teased by the guys for the lipstick behind his ear that he had missed in the shower. It was an elbow to the ribs that drew his attention away from you and back to Coco.

"Stop staring, you look creepy as fuck."

Angel scoffed, waving his hand dismissively before turning to look back at you. When he did, his heart jumped, finding your eyes on him now. They were wide, clearly not having expected to see him there. The corner of your mouth turned up slightly and he nodded once, returning his own pisspoor excuse of a smile. He looked away first, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't also to keep his composure.

The soft-touch to his back startled him and he looked behind him, ready to tell whichever woman it was that he wasn't interested. But there's your voice again.

"Hey."

He turned to look at you and unsurprisingly, you look even more beautiful than he remembers you. His voice is breathless as he responds.

"Hey, querida."

You looked to EZ and Coco then, offering them hugs before coming to stand closer to Angel again.

"Sorry, didn't want to just ignore you and not say hi."

All three nodded, Angel's eyes still glued to you as the other two shared a look. EZ was standing then, Coco following suit.

"We're gonna go get some air, we'll be back. Good seeing you."

It was tense and awkward, the two other Mayans missing you but not wanting to anger Angel by making it seem like they were trying to rope you back in. With it being only the two of you now, Angel swallowed before pointing to the seat Coco had just been in.

"You wanna sit, or..."

He could see the hesitation on your face, not knowing what was the best choice, and his mouth was moving before his brain could keep up as per usual.

"I want you to."

Your eyes were warm as they landed back on him and you nodded softly, your voice even softer as you took a seat.

"Ok."

There was an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say. Angel spoke first, going with the option of full transparency.

"I miss you."

The sad smile that graced your lips had him wanting to wrap you up in his arms at once, but he refrained. With a nod, you agreed.

"I miss you too."

It was the tears welling in your eyes that sealed it for him as he pushed closer to you, his knees against yours as he placed his hand on your back, his own heart pained.

"Don't cry, mama."

You chuckled, though there was nothing funny, your hand coming up to dab at your eye.

"Last person I thought I would bump into tonight was you."

Angel nodded, offering a small smile.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't expecting that shit either."

There was a bit of silence then, Angel biting his lip as he swallowed down the urge to just take you into his arms. With his fingers running up and down your back, he sighed, looking back over at where you had been to see your friends there, the women quickly looking away under his gaze. You chuckled again, sitting up straighter now that the overwhelming emotion had subsided.

"They brought me out to try and get over you. I can see EZ and Coco did the same."

"And how's that working out?"

Angel's question was direct and so were his eyes as they stared down at you. With a shrug, you answered.

"Obviously not great if I'm sitting here crying in a bar."

The Mayan chuckled and so did you, the chemistry between the two of you so intense it burned.

"Wanna go for a ride? I only had one beer."

You looked at Angel as he offered, the hope clear in his eyes. With a nod, you smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. Holding his hand out, Angel helped you stand, tossing a bill onto the bartop.

"You wanna tell your friends? I can take you home after."

"Yeah. I'll grab my purse and meet you outside."

Angel nodded, leaning down to press a soft and slow kiss to your forehead before walking toward the exit. Coco and EZ were leaning against the wall, both wincing as they saw him walk out alone.

"She didn't wanna hear it?"

Angel was about to answer when you came out behind him, throwing a small wave at the boys who were now smiling instead. They waved back and stood back up straight.

"We'll see you tomorrow then."

Angel nodded, a little bit of light back in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll see you."

The two of them were walking back inside then, leaving you and your ex, though it felt like things might not be staying that way. The love that the two of you had was too strong to throw away over tough times. Holding his hand out once again, Angel looked at you as he waited.

"You wanna try us out again?"

Your nod was confident as you gazed at him, a tiny sparkle back in your eyes.

"I'd rather have you only sometimes than not at all."

That was a sentiment that Angel could agree with and he grinned, his hand encasing yours as he walked with you toward his parked bike, happy to know he was going to have his girl with him once again.

General taglist @piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl​ @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered

Mayans taglist @dazzledamazon  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @bisexual-space-slut @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog​

Angel taglist @cardenasarmy @tartanbumsters​

[mypoisonedvine]

Getting In Tune | Chris Evans x reader fluff

summary: taking house calls as a piano tuner doesn’t usually mean meeting hot guys… mostly just old ladies who offer you lemonade, which is great and all, but did not prepare you for an appointment to tune chris evans’ full grand.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: swearing, dirty jokes about pianos, allusions to nsfw things?? vaguely?, mostly just fluff and flirting and awkwardness

Checking that the address on your worksheet matched the one on the door in front of you, you reviewed the nature of the appointment as your boss had written out for you: 

Customer: Christopher Evans

Appointment type: Warranty tuning and check-up

Arrival time: 10 a.m. 

You checked your watch and saw that it was 9:58, but hopefully that wouldn’t bother him too much.  Leaning forward, you knocked on the door and waited.  You could hear a dog barking inside, running up to the other side of the door as someone unlocked the bolt and cracked it open, poking his head out while he held the dog back with his leg.

He seemed a little surprised to see you standing there, made even more apparent by the fact that he was obviously wearing pajamas— specifically, a baggy tank top and gingham flannel pants.  A few tattoos were visible on his arms and collarbones, though you tried not to stare at them or anything.

“Did you not know you had an appointment today?” you asked him.  When he didn’t answer, you tried to give a bit more of a prompting.  “I’m here from Boston Steinway…?”

“Right, right,” he agreed, “uh, let me put the dog out, and… put on a shirt…”

“Good idea,” you suggested, “I’ll be here!” 

He smiled at you one more time before shutting the door again, his footsteps shuffling away as you waited for his return.  Thankfully it was a nice day out so you weren’t too cold in your work uniform (yes, you felt like a total dork having to wear a polo with a nametag on it, but such is the life of a piano tuner).  When you heard the dog run into the backyard, and the sound of Chris coming back to open the door, you took a moment to straighten yourself in hopes of looking like you’d been waiting patiently.

“Come in please,” he offered as he opened the door one more time, wearing a navy sweater and jeans now (and a NASA ball cap, for whatever reason) and stepping aside to invite you in.

“I hope I didn’t scare you too much,” you smiled as you stepped past him, letting him shut the door behind you, “a lot of people forget when I’m supposed to show up, trust me.”  You shuddered as you remembered those times you caught people in a lot worse than pajamas.

“No, I knew somebody was coming today, I just… wasn’t expecting…” he trailed off.

“A girl?” you finished for him with a smirk.

“I… yeah, I guess I wasn’t expecting a girl,” he laughed, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, piano tuning is a real boy's club," you joked.  

"Is it?" he asked sincerely.

"Um, no, not particularly."

"Oh."

After an awkward moment passed while you cringed internally at your failed joke, he finally guided you across the house to where the piano was; you set your toolbag down beside it, stepping back to admire the instrument.  “It’s gorgeous,” you told him.

“Oh, thanks,” he smiled a little.  “Yeah, she’s a beaut.”

“How long have you been playing?” you asked.  “Or are you one of those people who keeps it mostly for decoration.”

“Decoration?” he repeated incredulously.  “Do people do that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “more often than not I end up doing cosmetic repairs instead of internal ones because families are basically using this as the most expensive object possible to put framed family photos on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, “I mean, I’m sure I’m not using this thing the way it deserves, cause I’m still not very good at it but… yeah, at least I play it a few times a week.”

“Good, it deserves that,” you agreed.  “Mind if I…?”

“Oh, go ahead,” he prompted, stepping back and motioning for you to touch the piano.  You didn’t sit down, just leaning over to do a quick scale up and back down.  "Anyways, I think it's mostly fine but those higher notes are getting kinda squeaky…" he mumbled.

"Right,” you noted, messing around with the keys near the top to check what he’d said, “well, they do that, especially out here with these cold winters making the strings tighten up.  Should be fixable."

“Great,” he smiled.

“Alright, pretty girl, let’s take a look at your guts,” you grinned, groaning a bit as you lifted the heavy lid to see the strings inside.  "It's in great shape,” you observed aloud, “this can't be more than a few years old."

"Yeah, I got it pretty recently actually.  It's never been tuned before."

"Oh, this is its first time?" you smirked, leaning in to whisper to the strings: "don't worry, I'll be gentle."

He blushed a little as he laughed, making you pretty sure your joke hadn't gone too far.

“You, uh, don’t have to be around for this part,” you informed him.  “I mean, unless you want to, but it’ll just be me messing around in here for a few hours.

“No, I’ll give you some space,” he decided, “just let me know if you need anything.  Do you want, like, water or something?”

“I’m fine, but thanks,” you dismissed, “just continue as if I wasn’t here.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna see that,” he disagreed, looking like he regretted saying it as soon as he finished his sentence.  You felt your face warm and hoped he just meant that he’d be eating cheetos out of the bag in his underwear and not anything more… mature.  

As he awkwardly shuffled away, you opened your toolbox and got to work.  Your first task was to get a pitch reader so you could figure out how well-tuned each string was— you set that on the soundboard and got to work testing keys and reading the little digital display of your device.  Once that told you how much work each key needed, it was easy to just put your tuning hammer on one pin at a time, loosening or tightening until the pitch was just right.  You couldn’t just start at one side and tune all the way up to the other, oh no, there was a very specific ideal tuning order that you’d memorized by now: first the middle strings of the octaves from C3 to C5, then the one of each of the unison strings in the double bass section, then the middle strings from C5 to C8, then the lower single bass strings, then every left string of all the unisons from C3 to C8, then the rest of the double bass section, and finally all the right strings from C3 to C8.

Easy peasy, right?

It actually sort of would be, if you hadn’t gotten stuck on the unison bass string of E flat 3, your tuning hammer suddenly unable to turn even when you tried to brace yourself against the piano for some leverage.

"Um, Mr. Evans?" you called out.

"Yup!" he answered, swinging out from the entryway instantly— he must have been waiting just outside, which made you feel a little like you were being spied on.  

"Would you maybe come over here and use your manly-man strength on this?"

"My what now?" he laughed, walking towards you.

"You know," you explained by flexing your biceps and making a sort of serious face; your charades version of what a muscular man looked like, apparently.

"Oh, I see," he nodded, "my—" and he repeated the charade, except it made your face warm and your eyes all but bulge out of your head.  That was him jokingly flexing?!  What did he look like when he was actually trying to show his muscles?

You tore yourself from that train of thought as he leaned over the edge of the piano, gripping the tuning hammer you'd left on the pin there.

"This one?" he asked.

"Yeah, just give it a little nudge counter-clockwise, please."

He did it like it was no trouble at all.

"You could've at least pretended it was difficult," you rolled your eyes.

"No, you loosened it up for me," he winked.  WINKED.  Was he trying to kill you or something?  "Chris is fine," he said abruptly.

Chris is fine indeed, your brain supplied instantly.  "I'm sorry?" you choked out aloud instead.

"You can call me Chris, I mean," he explained.  "You called me Mr. Evans before."

"Oh, right," you nodded.  "Chris.  Thanks for your help with that, Chris."

"Sure thing," he smiled.

Just as the conversation began to lull, you could hear the dog whining and scratching at the back door, and you felt so guilty that he had been left outside.  “You can let the dog back in, you know,” you suggested, “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “he’ll jump all over you and stuff…”

“No, really, it’s fine, I love dogs,” you assured him.

“Alright, just prepare yourself,” he chuckled a little as he slipped over to the back door to let the dog in.  Running past his owner instantly and straight to you, you knelt down to let it lick your face as you laughed.

“Hi puppy!” you greeted.  “Oh, thank you for the kisses, it’s nice to meet you!”  He calmed down a bit when you scratched behind his ears, wiggling and putting his paws up on your knees.  “What’s his name?” you asked, turning your attention to Chris who had his arms crossed and a prideful smile on his face.

“Dodger,” he informed you with a nod.

“Aw, hi Dodger,” you cooed at the pup, “I’d sit here and pet you all day, but your dad’s not paying me to play with you— apparently.”

Chris laughed a bit as you stood up, and Dodger actually took it pretty well, dashing to curl up on the nearest couch as you got back to work on the piano.  

“I’m just about halfway done,” you informed him as you started to move on to the next string, occasionally plucking the string to test that the pitch was right.

“I’ve never heard a piano plucked before,” he observed, leaning in to watch you work.

“Yeah, probably better to just stick to hitting the keys,” you smirked.

“Psh, anybody can do that,” he scoffed, “you could invent a whole new genre of music!”

"I'll leave the musical experimentation to you," you decided, "and I'll stay on this side of the action board."

"See, I didn't even know that was a part of the piano," he admitted.

"And that's why you're on that side."

You two chatted while you worked— he asked some questions about you, you asked some questions about him, classic small talk sort of stuff.  He managed to keep it interesting, though, and keep you laughing throughout the whole conversation.  It was significantly more fun than you usually had during house calls like this, and instead of distracting you it actually seemed to help you keep your focus.  It was easier to talk to him when you could keep your eyes on the strings anyways: looking right at him was sort of overwhelming.

With the last string adjusted, you slipped the tuning hammer into your back pocket and dusted off your hands as you stepped back to admire your work.

"That's it?" he asked as he stood up from the couch, noticing the signs of completion.

"It is if it sounds good!" you smiled.  "Go ahead, take it for a spin," you suggested.  "Play something and tell me if it sounds how you want."

"Okay," he nodded, slipping around the bench and sliding onto it.  He took a breath before he placed his hands on the keys, but then suddenly stopped and set them back on his lap with a sigh as he turned to you.  "Um, it's a little weird with you watching me."

"Oh, are you not used to performance?"

"Not outside of my family and friends and stuff, no."

"I don't really have to be here for this part, as long as you're happy with it then that's fine," you shrugged, "but you know, I wanna be able to fix any issues while I'm still here—"

"No, it’s not a big deal," he shook his head quickly, "I should get over myself.  I guess it's just scary cause you've probably heard people a lot better than me play…"

"Don't worry about that," you laughed, "just play something, really, I won't judge."

He spun back to face the keys, placing his hands on them— for a second you wondered if he struggled to hit just one key at a time with those thick fingers, but you pushed that thought away quickly.

As he started to play, you found yourself focusing on the music more than the sound of the keys like you should've been.  He was good, actually, although you could hear the hesitance in the way he played.  He didn't rush as much as most people did, though; he was savoring the piece, one note at a time, and you let your eyes fall shut as he continued to play.

You broke from your trance when he suddenly stopped, repeating the phrase he'd just finished and stopping on the same note.

"Does this one sound kinda… off to you?" he asked.

"Um," you paused, "play it again?"

He poked the key with one finger a few times, and you frowned.  "I can't really tell." You stepped forward and leaned over his shoulder, caging his body in accidentally as your arms wrapped around his shoulders to fiddle with the keys in front of him.  You rested your knee on the bench beside his legs, not even realizing that it was a massive invasion of his personal space until you were already in it.

He moved his hands out of the way so you could repeat the phrase, and although you didn't hear anything wrong, you felt the key sticking.

"Oh," you mumbled to yourself, "it's the key, not the string."

"Can you fix it?" he asked looking up at you.

"Yeah, I—" you stopped in the middle of your word as you looked back at him because his face was really close, so close that his bright blue eyes were burning right through you; so close that you completely lost your train of thought.  "I can fix anything," you finished softly.

"Great," he whispered back, eyes seeming to glance down to your lips quickly before moving back up to meet your gaze.

You cleared your throat as you stepped back, giving him space again as you nervously crossed your arms.  "It's probably just something stuck under there or whatever, but I can order a replacement key if not."

"Right," he agreed with a nod, sliding to the side of the bench to give you room to fiddle with it.  You grabbed your smaller toolkit and sat beside him, starting with your flashlight to see if there was anything hiding underneath there.

Moving to peer behind the action frame, you realized it was a problem with the hammer hitting the string— or, more specifically, with the mechanism that kept the hammer balanced.  All you had to do was reach in with a long screwdriver and shift some parts around, and it seemed to be back in working order.

“Play it again?” you requested, and he slid back to the middle and started the piece over.  He grinned when he reached the part he’d stopped at before, flying through the phrase without stopping.

“Hey!  You fixed it!” he beamed.

“I’m a genius,” you shrugged, smirking a little.  He stopped playing and you found yourself a little disappointed by that, unexpectedly.  “Any other musical ailments I can magically cure for you today?”

“Unless you can make me a better sight reader, that’ll be all,” he smiled, standing up from the bench.

“Ah, if I could do that, I’d be using that power on myself.”

He shrugged; "Fair enough."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then," you announced as you put the last of your tools away and picked up your bag.  "Hope I didn't disrupt your day too much."

"You did, actually— in a good way," he grinned.  "I definitely learned a lot more than I was going to just watching TV and drinking beer."

You followed him back to the front door, which he opened for you.  "You can always give us a call if you need anything.  Um, anything piano-related, that is.  Tell the dog I said goodbye, okay?"

Chris smiled a little, softer than his normal expression.  "I'll be sure he gets the message."

As you got back in your car, you took a minute to just catch your breath for the first time since you'd gotten here.  Trying to be funny and cute and charming when all you wanna do is stutter and gawk and melt is exhausting!  As enjoyable as it was, in a certain sense, you were relieved at the idea of returning to your routine— which typically did not include super hot dudes chatting you up at work.

//

“This must be a mistake,” you shook your head as you showed the work order form to your boss, “I was at this address two weeks ago, the piano’s in perfect condition.”

“Well, he has an unlimited warranty, so either something happened since you were there last, or you fucked something up when you were there last, or he’s just determined to get his money’s worth out of us,” she explained without looking up from her computer.

You sighed and left, heading back to the same address and hoping you weren’t about to get chewed out for somehow ruining Chris’ like-new piano.

Knocking on the door, you found yourself chewing your lip as you waited for him to answer the door.  You were a little surprised when he answered in a button-up and slacks— entirely opposite to pajamas, although you sort of missed that get-up if you were being honest.

“Hey,” he greeted with a grin, stepping back to motion for you to come inside.

“Hi,” you responded awkwardly as you stepped past him.  “Is... everything alright with the piano?  I didn’t damage it, did I?”

He cleared his throat as he shut the door behind you, the size of the hallway forcing the two of you to stand slightly closer together than you would’ve personally preferred; it was hard to focus with him so close, sometimes.  “No, no, it’s not that,” he answered, “the piano’s fine, I just…” he stammered a little, starting over.  “Uh, there was something I wanted to ask you about last time, and I called the Steinway store but I couldn’t figure out how to call you specifically, so I just had to make a new tuning appointment.”

You furrowed your brow with confusion, not sure why someone else on the phone couldn’t answer whatever question he had, but decided to let him go through with his thought.  “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh, I just wanted to ask you… out,” he finished plainly.

You paused as you processed that.  “Out?”

“Like, I was wondering if you’d wanna… go out, with me.”

You hoped your face didn’t give away all of your shock, but at the same time, you figured it probably did.

He winced as you continued to stare at him in silence.  “I’m kind of out on a limb here,” he reminded you.

“Right, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “um, I guess I’m just sort of surprised because you’re, like… hot, and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“Yeah, like… nice…” you explained.

“Hot and nice?” he laughed.  “Slow down, you’ll give me an ego.”

You laughed, too, and less nervously than you expected.  Feeling the rare urge to be spontaneous, you scratched your neck as you prepared to propose an idea.  “Listen, so, this might be crazy but... I have another appointment today, at the Symphony Hall— it’s a final tune-up on the pianos and harps before this massive concerto thing and they always let me stay to watch the performance afterwards.  If you came with me, I could get you in for free.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you probably have better things to do today—”

“I don’t,” he refuted.

“And if you just wanted to, like, get lunch some time then that would be great, I just thought I might as well invite you to hear the chamber orchestra from the best seat in the house,” you shrugged.

“The best seat?” he questioned incredulously.  “And where is that?”

“The rafters,” you laughed.

And that was how you and Chris ended up sitting on the steel catwalk suspended on the ceiling of the Boston Symphony Hall, dangling your feet over the edge as the sounds of the concerto echoed out from the stage, over the silent audience and, finally, up to you two.

The music was incredible, if a little quiet from where you were listening, and so soothing that you felt compelled to close your eyes and focus on the sound.  You were partial to the piano, as always, but the violins and cellos in harmony made your chest warm unexpectedly.  Or maybe that was from the feeling of Chris’ gaze on you, as you opened your eyes to find him looking at your face rather than the performance below.  

“What are you looking at me for?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

“For fun,” he shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem very exciting,” you scoffed, looking back to the stage.

“Oh, it’s exciting,” he mumbled his reply as he returned his gaze to the performance as well.  

Your cheeks burned when you heard that, in spite of the fact that it was actually a bit drafty in the auditorium.  Even though your nerves were buzzing with anxiety, a rush of bravery struck you and suddenly you were leaning your head onto his shoulder.  Just the warmth of him through his shirt— hell, even the smell of his cologne— somehow managed to relax you and energize you simultaneously.  His hand gingerly slipping around your waist was even better.

After this many years of tuning pianos, it felt like you were getting yourself in tune for the first time.

[jaesvelvet]

aparecium — takata mashiho

warnings: grammartical errors

words: 1.8k words

pairing: hufflepuff headboy mashiho! + fem reader

notes: this is my first hogwarts imagine of treasure.... i hope you guys enjoy this!!!

You quickly close your thick black book as Professor Flitwick walks towards your table, hiding the book under the table, and practices the charms he has been taught for that day.

"Give it a flick, Y/N" Professor Flitwick said

"Ascendio" you point to the feather in front of you, lifting it.

Professor Flitwick nods, murmuring a good job to you before passing through you.

You sigh in relief the professor is cool unlike Professor Snape, he surely will take the books and read what you've been writing on in front of the class.

"Mashi! Help me" you look up to the person who calls Mashi or Mashiho. You smile as the boy in the yellow tie helps the boy with their spell. You head over heels towards the head boy of the Hufflepuff, in your eyes, he is like Ron Weasley to your Hermione Granger.

Mashiho is boyfriend material, he is head boy, teacher's pet, he is the seeker in Quidditch, and one of the students who take NEWT. Everyone knows it is hard to study for NEWT, and yet this boy takes the NEWT like it's nothing to him, nobody has ever seen him struggle studying NEWT. He is indeed Hermione number 2.

"Okay, class dismissed, for those who take NEWT, there's only a month left since your examination, I hope you are all prepared and of course you welcome to my office if you need any help" Professor Flitwick announce class about NEWT making you sigh. Yes, you are one of the students who take NEWT, at first you want to take O.W.L instead of NEWT but your mom said it will be great if you try to take the exam, and here you are struggling to get a good grade for your final year in Hogwarts.

You left the class and walk towards the library, it is your free time, you are willing to study for the upcoming exam than joining your friend watching Quidditch training.

You enter the library, feeling calm by the silence, you making your way to the potion section to study more about potions that you need to do on your examination soon.

You frown as you see the book you've been searching for is on the top of the shelf, you tiptoe to reach the shelf, but who are we kidding here? The top shelf is too high for you like in a usual k-drama scene, someone grabs the book you make you turn around, eyes getting bigger when you realized the person that helps you.

"Mashi?"

"You know, it's your last year in Hogwarts, why don’t you just cast Wingardium Leviosa?" he asks, handing you the book while showing you his sly smile

"Uh, we can't depend on everything on magic you know?" you answer

"I see, you're an independent girl," he said making you blush, you also didn't know why you're blushing at his word? Perhaps he talking to you while being this close making you shy?

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

Mashiho laughs at your awkwardness

"You take NEWT too right? Why don't we study together?" he offers.

Now your brain is malfunctioning. Mashiho offers you to study together?? Is this not a dream? You mentally slap yourself and look at him again

"Sure, what do you want to study?" you ask

"Potion. I need to pass if I don't want to see Professor Snape's face again" he said making you chuckle, a teacher's pet tattle behind them? Impressive.

"Yeah me too," you said and he leads you to his usual spot.

“So Y/N tell me why you take NEWT?” he asks. You raised your brow to him, did he just... Underestimate you?

“Uh, don’t misconstrue my words. I'm just curious since almost all students at Hogwarts refuse to take NEWT and you take– you know what? Just ignore my question” he said, his face turns slightly red making you smile, you can’t be mad at him for too long, he is so cute! You just wanna pinch his cheek.

“Well my mom made me, and I thought it’s not hurt to give it a try” you answers

“Well, your parents must be proud of you for study hard, I admit this exam is so hard I felt like crying when I study the same chapter again and again,” he said

You are surprised to see he is openly sharing his thought with you, well you’re not that close with him and even his friends doesn’t know he is struggling to get a good grade.

“I heard a rumor that you never struggle at study but I guess it’s all wrong then”

“Well, I don’t think showing my struggle changes anything? I don’t even know who’s spread all the news, why don’t they just minding their own business?” he whines

“Yeah, true” you replied, and focusing on your book, but in your head, you already screaming at the top of your lungs because Mashiho is so cute when focusing on something. You were surprised you didn’t explode at this point.

+.*

A week passes since you and Mashiho’s studying together in the library, it was a good day because after that he offers you to eat dinner together with him. You couldn’t stop thinking about that day if only there's a spell to freeze time.

Secretly bringing out your thick black book, you open to the blank space and writes something on the page using invisible ink. There’s one thing you like about magic, you can do whatever you want without others knowing.

“Oi” your friend whispers to you, scrunching her face seeing you doing something else instead of brewing a potion

“What?” you whisper back, your hands still jotting something on the book

“Snape will kill you if he saw you do something else, you fool!” she slaps your hand, you roll your eyes, you didn’t prefer to study now because since morning you have class nonstop. You can't take it anymore all you need now is rest or a hot bath.

“Ugh fine,” you said and put your book above some random book.

A sigh comes out from your mouth and continues to brew your veritaserum— the truth serum for your NEWT, you lazily stir the potion that looks like water, you wonder if someone drinks a drop of this potion how much truth will they spill out? Since Professor Snape said that 3 drops of this serum are enough to make a person reveals their deepest secret, this potion is scary no wonder the process is difficult.

You heard a laugh from across your table making you look up, your exhausted body feels recharged by his laugh. Mashiho’s laugh, you smile seeing him joking around with his friends which later being scolded by Professor Snape, he noticed you look at him and wink at you.

You feel like time stop for a moment, did he just wink at you? Gosh, he really driving you crazy.

You break the gaze and focusing on your potion, frustrated by his wink.

Minutes later, Snape dismissed the class and Mashiho walks towards you

Why? Why is he coming here? You thought

“Y/N, you free this evening?” he asks

You slowly nod your head, although you don’t want to go anywhere and rather spent your day in your dorm, you still nod to his question like hypnotized by his gaze.

“Cool, so do you want to study together again? You great at potions, really” Mashiho said

You blushing. Again. You thought he must think you a fool, blushing for no reason.

“Ah yes I would love to!” you said

“So, I meet you at 5, in the library?”

“5 it is” you answers and take your books while smiling at him.

+.*

Your chest becomes tight as it becomes hard to breathe, you wander around your dorm, as you realized you take the wrong book! This black book on your bed is not yours. It fills with some charms and potions notes. Your book is empty— well not empty, it’s just written in invisible ink. But still, you feel nervous if someone cast an aparecium spell on it, which is a spell to reveal secret messages that are written with invisible ink.

You take the book and run towards the potion class, hoping the book will be at the last place you put it.

“Professor Snape” you pants, holding on your chest catching on your breathing.

“What did you want L/N?” he asks in a monotonous tone

“Did you see my black book here?” you ask

“Is your responsibility to take care of your things L/N. There’s nothing here” he said sternly

You mentally roll your eyes at him, he could say no and you don’t waste your time here and search for your book.

“Alright, thank you, professor,” you said and your looks at your watch it was already 5 pm.

“Oh shoot, Mashi must be waiting for me,” you said and running again to the library.

You assume you will die anytime soon if you keep running like this, you enter the library and catching your breath before approaching Mashiho at his usual place.

“Hey” he frowns when he sees your forehead cover with sweat.

“Did you run?” he asks

“Uh yes, I’m afraid if I'm late,” you said and wipe your sweat using your sleeve

Mashiho let out a chuckle

“I don’t mind waiting, you shouldn't run you could fall,” he said

You smile at him, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. How is he even real?

“Oh, before we start– um I think we exchanged books at potion earlier” he hands you the black book that you have been searching this entire evening

“Oh my, you’re life savior— wait how did you know this is my book?” you raise one brow to him, you didn’t write your name in this book unless...

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to cast that spell but I need to know who's this book belongs to! And when I saw my name on the first page I couldn't help myself but read...” he said, you could see guilty in his eyes

“I- I'm sorry, you just think that I'm creepy right?” now you realized how creepy if someone writes an entire book about you without your consent.

“No, I appreciate you noticed my details when I play Quidditch. No one ever notices my strategy for Quidditch, you’re the first one” he cracks up.

“Oh..” that’s the only words you could say, well the atmosphere is awkward right now!?!?

“Did you like me that much, Y/N?” he tease you

“Based on the book, it will be a lie if I said no,” you said

“Well, don’t worry because I like you too. I didn’t know how to approach you at first but luckily you can’t reach the top shelf” he said

You finally can look at him in his eyes. Well, this is one of the benefits to not use magic all the time, right?

[cappymightwrite]

Customs, Chieftains & Countergifts

I'm currently writing up a deep dive chapter analysis of Jon XI, A Dance with Dragons, but wanted to post this section separately as a sort of preview, but also something to be enjoyed on its own (with some added visual aids). For all the medieval nerds out there...enjoy!

He slapped Jon’s back. “When all my folk are safe behind your Wall, we’ll share a bit o’ meat and mead. Till then…” The wildling pulled off the band from his left arm and tossed it at Jon, then did the same with its twin upon his right. “Your first payment. Had those from my father and him from his. Now they’re yours, you thieving black bastard.”

The armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men. Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. “The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them.” – ADWD, Jon XI

The exchange of arm-rings, or armbands, in medieval Germanic (notably Scandinavian/Nordic) cultures is hugely significant, and as a aspiring medievalist this interaction between Tormund and Jon really stood out to me. For some historical context:

Every ambitious chieftain faced the same problem: how was he to recruit and keep warriors in his retinue? His retainers, not simple mercenaries that fought for wages, were free men whose sense of honour would not have tolerated that kind of venal relationship. Instead, a chieftain needed to engage his warriors in close personal relationships. If they were not biological kin, they might create kinship through, for example, rituals of brotherhood, marriage alliances, and friendship formalised by drinking together in the chieftain's hall. Whatever their relationship, it was constantly reasserted through the exchange of gifts. It was their relationship with their chieftain that made warriors willing and eager to fight for him. [...] Appropriate gifts in a gift-giving relationship needed to be prestigious, which caused many chieftains to focus some of their energies on acquiring prestigious goods specifically rather than wealth in general. When the warrior recieved a gift of something valuable and prestigious from his chieftain, he was required to give a countergift. His first countergift was loyalty, unto death if necessary. This is how relationships of power were created in a society without states; rather than being obliged to perform military duty for his king (as in a full-fledged state), the warrior was persuaded with gifts to voluntarily perform that duty for his chieftain. The asymmetry of this interchange, with the chieftain giving more valuable gifts than the warrior, was an expression of the structure of political power: the more exclusive the gift, the higher the esteem of the giver, and the more power concentrated in him. – Anders Winroth, The Conversion of Scandinavia

The importance of this type of exchange is notably highlighted in certain passages from the Old English poem Beowulf:

Here is Seamus Heaney's translation of the same lines:

The above is just one example, but it illustrates how it was an honour to be gifted a ring/armband by a chieftain, and Tormund, we shouldn't forget, is a kind of Wildling chieftain. He is introduced to Jon by Mance as "the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall [...] Father of Hosts," (ASOS, Jon I), which connects to the significance of the chieftain's hall and the ritual of drinking in that hall to cement kinship bonds.

With Tormund and Jon, despite the former's earlier provocations, we see his real respect for Jon shine through here, initially by essentially inviting him to drink in his hall, or at least together:

“When all my folk are safe behind your Wall, we’ll share a bit o’ meat and mead. Till then…” – ADWD, Jon XI

This may seem like a small thing, but to the cultures which Tormund and the Free Folk play off of, this is a significant gesture, as noted above by Winroth. Furthermore, he makes clear the importance of his gift-giving by mentioning the armbands' prestigious history: "had those from my father and him from his." They are also materially valuable: "the armbands were old gold, solid and heavy, engraved with the ancient runes of the First Men."

The visual description of the armbands is very evocative of actual Viking era arm-rings that have been excavated, for instance, this gold one which has been recently found in the Isle of Man, which dates back to 950AD:

This plaited technique — probably more achievable in gold due to its relative softness/malleability — is reminiscent of other finds from around the same period (876-950AD), such as this one currently held at the British Museum:

As far as I can tell, however, runic inscriptions on arm-rings/armbands aren't really a thing, though you do see a variety of different kinds of engravings (the below date from the 10thC–11thC):

Of course, GRRM is just trying to evoke this kind of culture through his inclusion of "ancient runes of the First Men," rather than aim for exact accuracy, and we do see runic inscriptions on personal objects and some items of dress from the Viking period — often to denote ownership. However, in the below examples at least (a bone comb case and bossed penannular brooch), they seem more like later additions, rather than part of the original design:

But back to Tormund and Jon's exchange!

The armbands' prestige and value cannot be dismissed, and even though they are meant as "payment", Jon's acknowledgement of this significant gesture is reflected in his returning them. In fact, you could argue that his return of them is his "countergift" to Tormund, as well as the cementing of loyalty and trust between the two of them.

“The Braavosi will melt these down for the gold. That seems a shame. Perhaps you ought to keep them.” – ADWD, Jon XI

So, this little moment really plays on the dynamic between chieftain and retainer in a very interesting way. Indeed, we sort of see Jon take on the role of gift-giver himself, as he returns that same honour and respect to Tormund. Whereas Winroth describes the asymmetry of the interchange between chieftain and retainer, for Tormund and Jon there is symmetry, there is mutual standing; they are equals.

This is just such a beautiful, yet subtle, cultural exchange that is actually so meaningful. It really highlights Jon's strength of character and his respect and understanding of the Free Folk culture:

Tormund Giantsbane had worn them as long as Jon had known him; they had seemed as much a part of him as his beard. – ADWD, Jon XI

He understands how intrinsic this item of dress is to the Free Folk and to Tormund especially, how emotionally weighted they are, which is why he does not want to see them destroyed and diminished by being melted down for their gold. This stands in almost direct contrast to how Dany views the Meereenese tokar:

Dany had wanted to ban the tokar when she took Meereen, but her advisors had convinced her otherwise. "The Mother of Dragons must don the tokar or be forever hated," warned the Green Grace, Galazza Galare. "In the wools of Westeros or a gown of Myrish lace, Your Radiance shall forever remain a stranger amongst us, a grotesque outlander, a barbarian conqueror. Meereen's queen must be a lady of Old Ghis." Brown Ben Plumm, the captain of the Second Sons, had put it more succinctly. "Man wants to be the king o' the rabbits, he best wear a pair o' floppy ears." – ADWD, Daenerys I

Though to give Dany her due, the tokar is a far more restrictive and difficult item of dress to wear than a Free Folk armband, and Jon is also not being given Tormund's to wear precisely. Nevertheless, she fails to truly acknowledge the symbolism and cultural importance of the tokar. It is actually quite an offensive act to want to ban them, simply because you do not appreciate them aesthetically. It is a good thing that she takes on the advice of others and does wear it, but it is a concession on her part, not really anything deeper than that. It also doesn't exactly help things that the tokar continues to be referred to as the "floppy ears" by Dany from then on. It shows a lack of respect.

Jon continues his exchange with Tormund by not just showing respect to his culture, but by also sympathising with the loss of his two sons: Dormund and Torwynd. This moment between them was already bestowed with emotional meaning through the offer and return of the armbands. That could have been the end of it, yet Jon extends his understanding further to comfort a grieving father.

^ There you have it, just some stuff I found especially interesting in that interaction between Jon and Tormund — how it evokes a period of history and culture that I'm quite familiar with, as well as how it contrasts to Dany's own cultural confrontations in Meereen.

[clairecrive]

“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]

A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.5K

Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too. 

At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.

And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.

“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”

“You mean, romantically?”

He nodded.

“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”

“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”

“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”

She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.

“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.

“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.

“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.

Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.

Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.

"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re  sending me away?"

"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."

"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"

"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?

Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?

Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.

Wait a minute...

He went to meet Talia.

"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.

"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise." 

Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled. 

In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that. 

"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion. 

"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit." 

"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard. 

As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.

“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?” 

They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.” 

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.

Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.

And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned. 

Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.

But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating. 

Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.

They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married. 

While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage. 

She hadn’t considered Talia though. 

Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her. 

Turns out that she really was foolish.

“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat. 

“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”

“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.” 

And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.

It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t? 

It may take a while but she would be okay,

[raelikestoramble]

yesssss, I'm still trying to recover from the finale... Can you do an story w Eddie pining for Buck after his break up w Ana? Like he releaized his feelings for Buck after getting shot and almost dying but Buck is together w Tyler? Please and thank youuuu

AN: Sorry, this got away from me and I wrote more than I thought I would! Thanks for the great prompt, I really loved it but wasn’t sure where to take it, so a lot of this is Eddie’s internal thoughts. Hope you still like it!

Eddie hadn’t meant for it to go on for as long as it did. Truly, he hadn’t – time had a funny habit of slipping away from him as of late; in his recovery, what mattered most to him was getting himself back to normal – or as close as he could ever return to, given what he had been through – and keeping life as stable as possible… for Christopher. No big changes, no upsetting surprises.

That thought did little to ease the lingering sense of guilt, though.

It had been only a few days since Eddie finally sat Ana down to, as delicately as he could, say that their time together was coming to a close.

She had been so lovely about it, too, because that was her nature and it had made having to break it off worse, almost. Ana was kind, sweet, understanding – perfectly nice – and, for all those reasons, she deserved better, a lot more; someone who was completely in it for her, as invested in her as she was in them. He didn’t always realise it, but he knew for a while before he broke it off that he couldn’t be that person for Ana. In time, another would be. He was sure of it.

He had felt, much to his embarrassment, tears burning his eyes as he explained to her that he entered a relationship with her for the wrong reasons… and that he had so much to figure out about himself. She had clasped his hand in hers, gave a watery smile, and told him that she understood; she had even reassured him that it was all okay and he didn’t need to be too hard on himself over it. It was the most amicable split he could’ve imagined happening. With guilt, came the sweetness of relief, an acute light feeling that he didn’t notice was missing for the longest time.

And then, once that was over and the dust had settled… he was free. Free to… wallow, he supposed, in what he had realised weeks ago, because there was nothing that Eddie could do about it.

He remembered how it felt, being disoriented, in pain, slipping from consciousness, with those blue eyes boring into his, wide and frantic, as Buck fought hard for him, for his very life. How it felt afterwards seeing his face come into view from around the corner, smiling at him with such a genuine and unfiltered joy. Warmth, safety, and happiness – because Buck was family, that much he had decided to make official in a legal tie a year ago.

It was the overwhelming feeling of love, and relief in seeing him safe, unharmed and by his side the first chance he got, that sent Eddie’s mind reeling and down a path he couldn’t back out from. Buck was all of that to him, and more, and the feeling of longing had burrowed into Eddie’s mind, becoming a nagging and persistent sensation that made him feel… sick, flustered, and even morose.

Love – romantic and sexual love - for Eddie had always been a struggle, had wound up feeling oddly��� unnatural, as though he was following the expectations of others, or his own idea of familial obligation, rather than his own heart. He was chasing something that, by all accounts, should have felt right, but with Ana… and even with Shannon, it was wrong; it all fell flat in some way. Finally becoming aware of the different light in which he saw Buck in was like a piece of himself just clicking into place; he felt whole, finally.

It was more than a little inconvenient, though, realising that he was in love with his best friend… someone that he happened to see pretty much every day, either at work or off shift. His very straight, very happily coupled up best friend. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

Of course, Eddie was being very mature about it, something he could find a small bit of pride in – because he knew he needed to get over this, to respect Buck’s happiness, his relationship with Taylor, and not ruin their friendship by foolishly expressing what he really wanted. That was the respectable, adult thing to do. So, he kept his desire quiet, and he tried his best to be the good, supportive friend Buck knew him to be, but… in a small way, he had pulled back; he knew he had. Sometimes, Eddie was allowed to act to protect himself; allowed to be a touch selfish. To get over it, he needed a bit more space than usual. It was only fair.

“Eddie,” came Hen’s voice unexpectedly; he picked up instantly on the concerned undertone.

From the corner of his eye, he could see her furrowed brows and the frown lines on her face. He wished people would stop looking at him like that – like he was to be pitied, like he was still injured and helpless. The whole team all went through their fair share of ordeals… it seemed part of the job description, but there was something about the sniper targeting them that unnerved everybody more than anything else that they had faced before. It had struck Eddie’s core, too, and brought up a lot of ugly, old wounds - he was giving therapy another try because of it… and it was going better than it had before, to his surprise.

It had been months since he was shot, significant progress had been made, but there was still an unspoken tension in the firehouse at times. It was especially bad with Buck – he had pulled closer than ever, always happy, eager even, to offer his support and help in… everything, which made Eddie’s need for maintaining some space between them all the more difficult. It also gave him a sliver of hope, and that was a dangerous thing. He had grown too dependent on Buck; he had someone else to share him with now, he thought with a pang to his chest.

“Yeah?” he returned tiredly after a delay, still staring ahead.

His gaze was fixed on where Buck was sat a small distance away with Chimney by his side, his head thrown back laughing in a moment that ought to be captured in a photograph – oh, and how that beautiful, jubilant sound leaving his mouth twisted mercilessly at Eddie’s insides.

“You’ve been moving that piece of pasta around your bowl for the last ten minutes.”

“… So I have,” he sighed, letting his fork clatter against the plate in defeat.

He’d barely touched his lunch, but his appetite had been culled. Buck’s voice was loud – it carried effortlessly across the room. So, he easily overheard Buck responding to Chimney bringing up the topic of Taylor, and it was… embarrassing, the impact it had, how easily it soured his mood.

“Is that all I get? It’s ‘going well’?” Chimney exclaimed, nudging Buck’s side, a teasing grin on his face. “C’mon, Buckley. We usually can’t get you to shut up.”

Buck laughed bashfully and lifted his head up, almost catching his eye, but Eddie averted his gaze just in time to miss it. He could’ve sworn that he caught the sight of Buck’s smile faltering. He shook his head, working to tune out that conversation as best he could.

“You know… it’s okay to need more time. If you’re not ready to be back yet, no one will think less of you,” Hen suggested hesitantly, voice soft.

“No, it’s-- not that. I’m glad to be back. This is where I need to be,” he said simply.

Eddie didn’t like where this conversation was headed – but none of it broke through to his expression, and so Hen pushed on, sympathy etched into her features.

“Then… tell me what’s bothering you? You seem down, Eddie – a lot, lately – and I can’t sit here and act like I’m not worried.”

Had it really been that obvious? It was like he, a man in his thirties, had been rendered a hapless, lovestruck teenager – with how he let his feelings for Buck affect him so obviously that Hen had not only noticed but grown worried for him. It was so tragic he could almost laugh.

“Mm, I have a therapist for that,” he said with a wry smile, but instantly regretted it as he saw how Hen leant back in her seat, lips twisting into a frown.

She was trying to help, to be a good friend, and he was dismissive of her attempt right away. His tendency to try to avoid more heavy, emotional talks was one of the issues brought up in therapy and he really was working on it, but it felt impossible, in that moment, to tell the truth, to speak the words aloud to somebody else. Even though he knew Hen would, without a doubt, understand and keep his secret for him – that it might even help for her to know, as awkward and humiliating as it might be at first.

“Sorry. I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He dared to look back over to the corner where Buck was – now, he was showing Chimney pictures on his phone, which were undoubtedly of him and Taylor. Jealousy welled up inside of Eddie, burning hot, and another sigh fell from his lips as he lifted a hand to run down the side of his face. It wasn’t getting easier, only more frustrating.

When he glanced back at Hen, she was already watching him, an odd look on her face, eyes slowly widening. Realisation had already dawned before he could interject and divert the conversation.

“Wait. You-- Buck--?” she started.

Panic enveloped Eddie and, before she could go any further, he abruptly sprang to his feet, hands clasped together.

“Coffee?” he asked loudly.

Without waiting for her to give an answer, he made his escape, darting over to the countertop where the coffee pot was located. After a short pause, he noticed that Hen had made no effort to follow him, because – of course she hadn’t. What was he expecting? Her to run after him, get him into a headlock until he confessed to the revelation that he had that he was head over heels for Evan Buckley? No, this wasn’t a playground. He needed to get a grip.

His shoulders slumped as he expelled a heavy breath out into the air. He gave himself another moment, to allow his heart to stop pounding wildly in his chest, before leaning up to grab a clean mug from the cabinet.

“That was awful,” he muttered to himself, swiping his favourite from the shelf.

“What was awful?” asked Buck, suddenly, appearing at his side.

“Oh, God,” Eddie jumped, and the mug almost slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

Catching it and clutching at it, Eddie gave a breathless laugh.

“Nope, just me,” Buck countered, popping the ‘p’, with a toothy grin on display that caused Eddie’s stomach to start doing flips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie’s expression softened, the hints of anxiety vanishing from his face as he lowered the mug to the surface. He reached for another, automatically, eyes still on Buck. He really was beautiful to look at, all bright, excited eyes, soft dark blonde curls, and crooked smiles – and what was most unfair about it all was that his good looks weren’t the most beautiful thing about him by a long shot.

“I’ll let you off the hook,” he grinned.

Buck leaned forward and his shoulder brushed against Eddie’s, sending a jolt through him that made him step back, the contact quickly lost. Fortunately for him, Buck didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

“So, anyway, I was wondering – you got any plans tonight?” Buck asked cheerily.

Eddie was slow to smile again, but he did, because he knew what he was about to do – give in, so easily. Space was important, but… so was spending quality time with loved ones. He could practically hear his therapist’s voice offering him encouragement.

“I think I have a spot open in my schedule,” he said slowly, giving the impression of nonchalance.

“Great! What do you say to joining me and Taylor out for drinks tonight? You could bring Ana. I think it’d be good for them to start to get to know each other better, don’t you?”

Eddie’s heart sank in his chest, eyes closing for a few seconds before he plastered a placid smile to his face. Disappointment was such a bitter taste, and… he really needed to get around to telling him about Ana. Even if he and Ana were still together and he could agree to this double date, the thought of watching Buck and Taylor together for a whole night… well, he could think of a long list of things he’d rather do instead.

“Actually, I don’t think I can – I don’t know how it slipped my mind but, after my appointment, I promised Christopher that I’d spend the night with him…”

He felt bad using his own son, someone Buck loved dearly, as a shield, but it had to be done – Buck wouldn’t question anything if it was done for Chris’ benefit.

Buck’s smile strained, and there was a look in his eyes that Eddie couldn’t quite place. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and Eddie caught his lower lip between his teeth.

“Well, what about next Friday?”

“I can’t—”

“Man, I… Eddie, have I done something?” Buck interrupted; brows knit together in worry.

“Sorry?”

He looked vaguely embarrassed – and was that a pink tinge to his face? Surely not. No, Eddie was seeing things he wanted to see. He didn’t want to play that guessing game anymore, reading into every little interaction they shared, for some kind of sign. It was exhausting.

“It’s just… I don’t know, you’re a lot busier than before, maybe, but things are definitely… different. I—miss you,” he admitted sheepishly.

Clearly, this had been bothering him for a while now, and Eddie felt stupid and cruel for ever thinking that Buck wouldn’t notice that he was limiting their time together, even if only by a relatively small amount.

“Things are different,” Eddie explained carefully, trying to figure out his wording. “It makes sense that we, er, aren’t spending as much time together, because…”

Buck waved a hand.

“I know I’ve got Taylor now and you’ve got Ana, but that doesn’t mean that—”

“Buck, I ended things with Ana,” Eddie cut across impulsively.

There was an incredibly still moment that followed, and a tense quiet descended upon them, the only sounds the muffled comings and goings and odd background chatter from their other teammates. Buck’s lips parted and he appeared to be frozen as he slowly computed this information, and Eddie was almost scared to move – to break the spell.

It was getting alarming, and Eddie was about to wave a hand in front of his face, until finally he returned to reality, snapping back with a quiet and bemused, “Wait, you did what? … Why? You two seemed so happy. I thought you… that’s why…”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, taking in a breath as he turned to properly face Buck again, making direct eye contact. Buck wet his lip, a crease forming in his brow. Eddie wanted nothing more than to know what was going through his mind, but he was at a loss this time. Usually, he could read him so well.

Eddie shrugged – an attempt in vain to still appear casual. He knew he was way beyond that point now.

“I realised she wasn’t the one for me. And… I know everyone says it, and us first responders more than anyone, and we still sometimes forget to actually live by it… but life really is too short to spend with the wrong person. I owed it to her, and to myself, to end it.”

Buck blinked rapidly, and, really, Eddie couldn’t understand why this was all coming as such a shock to him. Had he really expected he and Ana to go the distance? For him to settle down with her?

“Eddie…”

“Yeah?”

Then, the wailing of the siren pierced through the air; whatever question had formed in Buck’s mind would have to remain there, until another time.