#composure he/she moments. to me. i treat the line as a kind of wall or curtain that composure ducks behind to let out emotions

[volivolition]

she's so normal he swears.

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[harry-writings]

Arrogant Son of a Bitch

- The one where Harry and Y/n are separated, but Harry gets jealous when he sees Y/n getting ready for a date with another man 

Masterlist 

-

It was the last thing Harry wanted to see, really — Y/n in a tight red dress, hooking gold earrings into her ears while she rubs her lips together,  spreading the crimson lipstick upon the surface, legs ending at her black stilettos.

But that’s exactly what Harry sees when he walks into her apartment to pick up their six-month old son, and he’s never had so much of an urge to gouge his eyes out from their sockets and leave them lifeless upon the ground.

There’s someone else. Y/n’s dolling herself up, wearing her Sunday best, letting her hair down in loose curls even though she hates curling her fucking hair, for somebody else — for somebody that’s not him, for somebody that’s not her husband.

“Hey, Harry! Thank you so much for coming early. I don’t want to be late!”

She still has yet to look at him — still scrambling around her living room, gathering everything she needs — and Harry doesn’t even know if he wants her to. One glance from her when she looks like this... and he’ll be a goner, he knows it, and he can’t afford to get all jealous and possessive in front of the very woman he broke things off with not just one year ago.

It was his idea to file for divorce, at the end of it all. Y/n had tried everything she could to mend the marriage that was in constant shambles, but Harry was always too stubborn and too prideful to admit to all the things he’d done wrong. And he did everything wrong.

He didn’t treat Y/n with the kind of love he had once given her — with the kind of love she always deserved. He treated Y/n like an obligation rather than a choice, a burden rather than a need, yet she always kept her promises and lived by her vows because it wasn’t just a casual relationship that could be thrown away and forgotten about, it was marriage.

She signed them up for marriage counseling, but Harry failed to show up to half the meetings. And when he did, he’d just sit there with a scowl on his face saying that talking about their feelings wouldn’t help any because there were no feelings. She tried working around his schedule to go on getaway vacations together to respire their connection, but he always spent the portion of time he could have spent with her working on more of his music.

And when she got pregnant with his baby, Y/n was desperate and silently hoped that the little bundle of joy growing inside of her would help fix all that had been broken between them. But it was no avail. If anything, it only made them grow further apart. Perhaps it was because he felt more bound to her when he didn’t want to be with her at all.

He told her he wanted the divorce half-way through the six month mark of her pregnancy. She was big, she was struggling, and she was absolutely exhausted, yet Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to push it aside any longer. He needed to let her go.

But as Harry stands here, watching Y/n looking as gorgeous as ever for another man that isn’t even hers, makes him want to take back everything he had ever done.

And it’s not that he didn’t before — he’s wanted to take it back from the second he walked into their home with divorce papers in his hands, his pregnant wife sobbing on the kitchen counter, asking why it had to be this way — it just feels like a fresh wound on his already scarred and fragile heart, and he genuinely feels as if a part of him has died.

“You’re going on a date.” Harry says knowingly, his frown deepening in the corners of his lips. And he knows he has no right to feel the way he does — so upset and hurt, like his heart had been ripped in two — but he can’t help himself from falling apart.

At the end of the day, she’s still his wife. Sure, the divorce papers had been filed, but there was still so much that had to be done for their last final steps. But of course, just like everything else that involved Y/n, Harry didn’t make the time for it.

Y/n shrugs, her thumbs twiddling together with her head down, eyes casted at the ground beneath his feet.

It’s been a year since Harry brought the divorce papers home, and Y/n’s barely looked at him since. Sometimes he’s thankful she doesn’t, but sometimes, in times like these, he wishes she would… even if it’ll hurt.

“Yeah, I guess. Just some guy I met the other night at the grocery store. Couldn’t reach one of the cereals for Topher and saw me struggling. Guess he thought I was pretty or something and told me he wanted to take me out.”

“I didn’t ask.”

She knows she should have stopped herself from talking sooner, but being around Harry makes her head spin and her body disassociate from herself. She doesn’t ever know what to do, or what to say, whenever he’s around.

There’s a part of her that tries so desperately to act as if everything is normal — like nothing had ever happened — mainly for Topher’s sake. But the other part of her knows that that’s such an impossible thing to do no matter how hard she tries.

Y/n purses her lips, dropping her hands at her sides in defeat. “Right.”

And it’s not that Harry wants to talk to her this way — like he doesn’t care about her, like he can barely stand the sight of her anymore; it’s the farthest from the truth, really, he’s just utter shit at saying how he feels or what he’s thinking. He’ll lie, and lie, and lie — chew on the truth and spit it out if it means he doesn’t have to apologize.

And right now, that’s all he wants to do. He wants to break down and drown in his tears, hold her to him and tell her how sorry he is for everything he’s put her through. But he has this unexplainable, unsettling wall built around him that he can’t knock down no matter how hard he swings at it.

He curses his career for it, really. He wishes he could be one of the celebrities that says fame hasn’t gotten to his head, but it has. In the most selfish, most arrogant of ways, fame has made him so prideful that he never puts himself to blame for anything that happens in his life.

His mother was the first one to tell him, and still never fails to remind him now that the divorce has been put in place.

You never fight for anything in your life. She’d always say. You think you’re too good for your mistakes. Put your wife through hell, making your kid go through hell, all because you swallow the two words that could fix everything you’ve ever broken. 

But he wants to fight for Y/n. Oh, how badly does he want to, but at this point, it’s just too late. All the damage had already been done, and no woman could ever forgive a man that left her during the nine months she needed the man she loves the most.

“Didn’t mean it like that, just —“ he croaks brokenly, gulping down the cries he doesn’t deserve to weep. “Does he know you’re married?”

The question makes her feel guilty — really guilty, the kind of guilty that makes her stomach swim with bile because nothing she does is ever going to feel right, for either of them. And she knows going on a date when the divorce hasn’t been set in stone is just making everything so much harder.

But what is she to do? Wait around for Harry to finally take the time out of his music to go to the courtroom so she could finally move on? She can’t keep being legally bound to a man that no longer loves her, she can’t keep doing this dance by herself because she’ll never have the heart to find somebody else.

And she just needs somebody else.

Because she’s still so deeply in love with Harry, it hurts. Everyday feels like the world is grabbing her at her feet, sucking her into its core until she’s floating in the midst of everybody’s life except her own. She’s living day by day stuck between the confines of marriage and separation and the worst part is, she feels not only separated from Harry, but also from herself.

It was so good. Everything about them was just so good… and Y/n doesn’t know what she had done wrong to make Harry fall out of love with her.  But somewhere between their picture-perfect relationship hid an unbearable amount of blame being put onto Y/n for things that weren’t her fault, or her responsibility, or her obligations.

The stupidest, littlest of things would set Harry off — leading to heart-wrenching periods of silence, an uncomfortable amount of tension, and constant reminders that her love wasn’t enough to make him happy.

And she just can’t keep living with that anymore. She can’t stand the fact that she has to keep thinking of him because he’s still here, all the time, swimming in the same gray area she’s been drowning in.

“That’s not fair.” Y/n frowns, her eyes briefly looking up to get a glimpse of his face, which is red and as broken as ever, and she curses her wandering eyes.

“I don’t go out with other women because you’re still my wife.” Harry nearly sobs the last word, still finding it hard to speak after everything they had been through. Because really, is she his wife, or just the ghost of her? “I still love you just as much. I’d be cheating on you if I even thought of it.”

And it’s true. Harry hasn’t looked at or even thought of another woman since the moment his heart found hers. She’s the first one he sees — in a room full of people, in his daydreams, in his music — she’s the only one he sees, in everything. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Y/n flutters her eyes closed to keep her composure, wishing now more than ever to be sucked up into the earth’s core again because she doesn’t want to be here anymore — in a room so close to him, feeling his every breath, hearing his every word echo in her head.

“Harry… I’m not your wife anymore. We’re separated. You’ve made it more than clear to me that you don’t love or want me anymore. I can’t keep living my life on your time.”

Y/n’s looking up at him as if begging him to understand, but he doesn’t. He may have fucked up one too many times down the line, but at the end of the day, he’s never once told Y/n he didn’t love her anymore. And he couldn’t even dream of telling Y/n he didn’t want her anymore, he’d throw up if he so much as tried.

There isn’t a universe Harry wouldn’t want Y/n in. She’s all he’s ever wanted.

“When have I ever said that?”

He asks it like her words sucked all that was left out of him and she almost wants to take it back, but she won’t.

“You didn’t have to.”

His eyes drop to the floor and a new wave of tears begin to rise at the surface, pushing at his throat.

He has nothing to say for himself.

Y/n sighs, her eyes wandering around the room as she waits for Harry to break this deafening silence, but he doesn’t. So, she lifts her purse higher upon her shoulder before coughing awkwardly to the open air.

“Topher is in the car seat all ready to go. His binkie should be in there, too. I would love to stay and chat but I really need to get —”

“Please, don’t go.” Harry interrupts, his voice cracking as he closes his eyes, loose tears falling down his cheeks and hitting the hardwood floor below them, hand inching closer to hers. “Stay here with me.”

She’s frozen still, the feeling of her hand being this close to his knocking the breath straight out of her lungs and nearly sending her to her knees. Because how badly does she want to — how badly does Y/n want to break the laws of reality just to be with her Harry again, even for a second, but she can’t keep letting herself believe they will ever come back from this. She can’t keep going back to Harry.

She has to stop choosing Harry.

“I can’t, Harry.” She breathes out, not having the heart or the strength to look up into the very eyes that never fail to make her fall in love. “I can’t stay with you any longer. I have to go.”

And before Harry could reach for her any farther, she was already gone.

-

Y/n was practically dead to the world — all her apartment lights shut off, all doors and windows locked, phone turned off and buried somewhere beneath all the covers she’s been hibernating in — before she heard someone practically beating down her front door.

She rolls over to her nightstand, groaning as her eyes blink to adjust to the blue light reading 1:04AM vibrantly in the dark. She sits herself up on her elbow, huffing out a breath as her hands reach up to rub the dryness out of her eyes.

She looks around her room as her brain scrambles to process reality, but it isn’t until another series of knocks jolt her up from where she sits, nearly losing balance in the process.

“Why? Why can’t I have nice things?” Y/n whispers to herself as she makes her way out of her bedroom to her front door, way too far out of her mind to bother checking her peephole before unlocking the knob and swinging it open.

“Mitch!” Y/n shrieks, her arms held out stiffly in front of her as Harry’s body is thrown into them — not so sure if holding him up is the appropriate thing to do considering they haven’t even touched each other once since the separation. “What the fuck!”

“You don’t answer your fucking phone!” Mitch fumes, his eyes bewildered and unsteady as his body is so visibly angry he doesn’t even know what to do with himself — pinching his lips between his fingers, practically walking in circles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pit of fire burning in his chest. “Needed to get him the fuck away from me!”

Mitch knows it’s not Y/n’s fault that she wasn’t answering his calls — it is well over midnight, after all — but he has been so pushed over the edge that he doesn’t have time to think about anything else other than being as far away from Harry as humanly possible.

Y/n’s struck with confusion because in all the four years she had been with Harry, he never had any problems with Mitch. Sure, they’d bump heads about which notes sound better in certain songs, or bicker a bit after long hours at the studio, but never anything like this.

“Been pissing me off all night about your stupid date! Proper fucking idiot, he is. Files a divorce with you, for what? To get jealous at every man that makes eyes at you? Arrogant son of a bitch, had half the mind to knock him in before I decided to bring him here.”

“Shut up, Mitch!” Harry growls groggily against the skin of Y/n’s shoulder.

Mitch turns his body to face Harry’s back, one hand on his hip while the other rubs along the roots of his beard, his face scrunching with what Y/n can only consider to be a look of complete malice.

He knows he shouldn’t be throwing Harry under the bus about their private conversations, especially ones that consist of Y/n, but there’s only so much he could put up with.

It’s sickening, really — having to constantly be there for Harry when everything that’s gotten him to this point has been his own fault. Harry doesn’t deserve comforting, but Mitch has been alongside him for far too long to not care about his feelings and emotions… no matter how wrong they are.

And what’s even more sickening is seeing how badly he’s hurting his own self by avoiding the divorce entirely instead of taking responsibility for his actions. Mitch could go on and on about all the ways to make things right again, yet still in some way, somehow, it always seems to go right past Harry’s head.

Because trying to sway Harry’s mind or his decisions is practically like pulling teeth — he’ll always find a way to go against what everybody else says and it drives Mitch up the wall. He’s sick and tired of wasting his breath all because Harry’s too stubborn to take anybody else’s path but his own.

“You couldn’t just bring him home? Where the hell is Topher?”

Y/n is struggling to keep Harry up because she’s not even sure if she’s doing it right. He’s got his entire body pressed up against hers, all of his weight being held by her still half-asleep arms and he shouldn’t even be here.

“No, I couldn’t bring him home because the first three times I tried, he wouldn’t get out of my damn car.” Mitch growls through clenched teeth, the side of his fist taking one last swing at Y/n’s open door.

He takes a couple deep breaths, his elbow leaning against the doorframe and he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure. “Topher’s with Sarah for the night. Now, for the love of fuck, make Harry grow a pair of balls so he can finally talk to you and not me, please.”

His eyes are pleading with Y/n’s silently, and she nods her head at him in response. She can’t leave Harry like this if she wanted to, anyways.

She sighs, holding Harry against her chest now to get a proper grip on him, and she can feel him press a small kiss against the crook of her neck.

“Have a good night, Mitch. Take care of yourself.”

She smiles softly at him, and for a moment in time, she feels like everything might be okay.

Maybe she only feels this way because this is the first time she’s touched Harry in a year now and it gives her the sense of clarity she’s been missing for so long. Or, maybe she feels this way because Mitch was always the one who was rooting for them despite everything they’ve been through, and knowing he still cares enough about the both of them to bring Harry to her apartment to talk gives her the smallest bit of hope she’s been needing.

“You too, Y/n.”

Mitch gives her one last reassuring look before he shuts the door, leaving Y/n and Harry alone in the confines of her apartment with absolutely nowhere else to go.

She guides him to her couch, which was a bit more difficult than she expected considering Harry is nearly twice her height and much stronger than he realizes. It takes almost all the energy out of her to get him to take a few steps of his own until he’s finally sitting upon the cushions.

“Your date.” Harry mumbles against her shoulder while she lays him down upon the couch, his glossy eyes looking up at her with genuine hurt and concern when his head lays upon the pillow. “Did he treat you nice?”

Y/n smiles softly to herself, reaching for the blanket sprawled atop of the couch — the very blanket Harry gifted her for the first Christmas they spent together. It’s been her favorite ever since.

“I didn’t go.”

“You didn’t go?”

Harry can’t deny that he feels happy about it — happy that she didn’t spend the night with somebody else, happy that she couldn’t find it in her heart to move on from him quite yet. But another part of him — a bigger part of him — suddenly feels guilty, and empty, and like his insides have all been set on fire until they all melted to nothing.

She’s been alone all night. She’s been alone every night. And sure, she had Topher to keep her company throughout the week… but she’s lonely and she’s sad. He can see it in everything she does. And tonight was her one night to be herself again, and somehow, Harry managed to find a way to take it all away from her, just like he’s done with everything else.

She was going to go if he hadn’t guilt-tripped her and begged her not to leave. And she looked so pretty, so fucking breathtaking, for nobody to see it. And that alone is enough to make the last bit of his heart completely shatter until his chest becomes a voided pit.

Y/n nods her head, emotionless, as she pulls the blanket up to his chin. “You were right, we’re still married. It wasn’t fair of me.”

She knows it would have been fair either way, but after seeing how upset Harry looked upon the realization that she was going out with somebody else, she couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of the night trying to make another man happy — one, she’s sure, wouldn’t have even made her happy.

She still didn’t choose Harry, but she didn’t choose anybody else, either, and to know that puts her head at rest. At least for a little while.

“With that being said,” Y/n coughs a bit, blinking away the tears that were mere seconds from falling, “You really need to pick a court date, Harry.”

He knows he does. He’s been draining himself out trying to think of the best time to get it all done — it has taken him twelve months, after all. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be done — not with their marriage, not with her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever want for it to all be done. And so whenever he plans to meet with his lawyer, he can only get as far as parking his car in the lot because he never has the strength to actually walk inside.

Because he knows once he does, there’s no going back, and he can’t imagine himself not going back to her.

So, he’ll cry. He’ll scream, he’ll punch at his steering wheel, he’ll hit his head against the headrest over, and over, and over again until he’s so worn out he can hardly breathe. Because he can’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.

There have been five appointments he couldn’t bring himself to go to, and she has no idea.

“I can’t.” Harry whispers with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands — refusing to look at her because he doesn’t know what will happen if he does. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?”

Y/n’s breath hitches in her throat because of all the things she expected him to say, that surely wasn’t one of them.

Deep down, she knows he’s hurting, but she never expected it to be so hard on him. Besides, he made it seem so easy — to leave her, like she meant nothing to him after the four years they had been together. And she couldn’t count the amount of times Harry had reminded her that he didn’t have feelings for her anymore.

So that’s what she always believed — that he didn’t love her, that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t need her. But hearing Harry cry out those very words, do you have any idea how hard it is to leave you?, makes her question everything she had ever known.

Because he did leave her — has left her on her own for a year now and has never given her a reason to believe he wanted it any other way until this very moment; Harry laying drunk on her living room couch, crying over the thought of her with another man. He has barely looked at her, has barely even touched her, until now — until it’s been far too late.

“You’ve already left me.” Y/n whispers, the tears she once blinked back now falling freely and silently down her cheeks.

There’s a crack in her voice that Harry can feel down his spine, shaking him to his core and leaving him frozen still. He’s never heard her sound so hurt and broken before and he feels his chest hallowing from the inside out; he is the only one to blame.

If he could just tell her everything he hasn’t — if he could just prove to her that not a single fiber in his body has let her go — no matter the consequences, he would in a heartbeat.

But Harry really hasn’t fought for anything in his life, he wouldn’t even know where to begin — he wouldn’t even know what to say, or what to do, to pick up all these pieces. And the worst part is that he wants to, so badly, but he worries that it won’t be enough — that he won’t be enough — and he won’t be able to handle it. His entire world would collapse.

He blindly reaches for her hand because she’s the only one that can ground him and he feels like he’s falling into a never-ending abyss with no safety-net. Truthfully, he’s been feeling that way for an entire year, until now, with her hand in his.

“Not even a little bit.” He breathes out from quivering lips, eyes unblinking, staring helplessly at their intertwined fingers.

Y/n sobs behind her pursed lips, squeezing her eyes closed as she stomps her foot down upon the floor because this can’t be happening. He can’t be doing this, not now — not when she’s this far into grieving his loss, not when she was finally taking her first step away from him. He can’t.

“Harry —”

“Before you say anything please, please just listen to me.”

Both of his hands are now cradling hers in his palms, slightly tugging at her arm because he is wholeheartedly desperate to say everything she needs to hear.

If he doesn’t get it all out now, he may never have her again. And if he has to spend the rest of his goddamn life being so lonely that he begins to loathe the world for moving on when his own stopped turning, he’d rather do it knowing he at least tried.

And if there’s one person he’d try anything for — do anything for — it would be his wife.

“When I filed the divorce it — it wasn’t because of you, okay? I didn’t — fuck — I thought it was my only choice. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love you the same, or because I wanted to be with somebody else, it was because I wasn’t what you deserved.”

Y/n’s staring down at him with furrowed eyebrows and open lips, everything around her moving so quickly she can hardly keep up.

These are answers she’s been begging for for nearly two years now, yet somehow, nothing could have prepared herself for them. She’s gotten so used to wondering — so used to questioning how the universe will take control of their destiny that now, having all the answers seems to defy all forms of faith.

It’ll all be in her hands now. What they’ll be in a year from now, where they’ll be a year from now, or who they’ll be with a year from now is all up to her. Because at the end of it all, Harry wouldn’t be pulling her closer, sobbing into her hand, breaking down all his walls and boundaries if he didn’t want her to break off the divorce.

“I would be away from you for months on end, so goddamn far away that god forbid something were to happen to you, I couldn’t be the first one by your side. I couldn’t be the first one to make you smile each morning, or be the first one to keep you together whenever the world was breaking you down.

“I wasn’t your first, for anything. I couldn’t be. And it was tearing me apart, knowing you were all alone every day and every night. But then I’d come home and it would feel — it would feel so good, like time hadn’t passed between us… but it did, so, so fast, and in a blink of an eye, I’d have to leave you again.”

His mind thinks back to all the times he’s had Y/n crying on his shoulder the nights before he had to leave the country, clinging onto him and begging him to stay with her just a little while longer.

They were so in love with each other that they hardly wanted to spend any time away from one another because they had a connection that was so raw and so real, they couldn’t find it in anything or anybody else. So each time he had to wake up at the crack of dawn to travel the world, Y/n pouting on the bed watching him pack his life together, would break him in two every single time.

The world meant nothing without her.

“The hole that kept swallowing me up every time I had to walk out on you became too much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I couldn’t tell you that because — because I wanted to hold it together so badly for you. I needed to keep it together because I knew if I couldn’t, you wouldn’t be able to, either. It was already so hard on you and I knew that and I kept leaving. And if I had told you that I spent every single night away from you crying my fucking eyes out, you’d sacrifice everything else you had to come be with me… and I couldn’t do that to you.

“And the more I kept bottling it up, the more I took it out on you. I didn’t want to — didn’t even mean to — but I did, in ways that I couldn’t justify to you because I couldn’t even justify them to myself. Then there was a part of me — the worst and most selfish part of me — that couldn’t apologize for it because the world had somehow convinced me that I didn’t need to.”

By now, Y/n’s knees are pressed against the front of the couch as Harry hooks one of his arms around her legs, his forehead making a home at the front of her hip.

“I’d just get more upset with myself, more angry, more ashamed. It was this constant cycle — feeling like I wasn’t enough for you, then blaming you for all my mistakes, pushing you away even farther. Then you got pregnant.”

They both let out a sob.

“And all I could think about was… if I couldn’t be there for my wife, how could I be there for my son? How could I show him the world and give him everything he ever wished for if I couldn’t even do that for you — for the one person I would choose over anything?”

His chin rests where his forehead once did, his red and puffy eyes trying their best to stay open enough to take a good look at her.

“I loved you beyond words. I looked at you and I saw my entire life in front of me. You continuously blew me away, every single day. Being away from you was — it was dangerous. You weren’t beside me and I was just this empty pit wallowing in hotel rooms that I didn’t even want to be in. I couldn’t get enough of you no matter how much I tried. You consumed me whole, and yet I still found a way to convince you that you were the one who wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets out a laugh through his cries, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s capable of destroying such beautiful things — things that were eternal, things that were once unbreakable.

And here he is, praying that he can also be the man that fixes them.

“Then I thought… if she found someone else that could give her everything she deserved, maybe he could be a better father to our son, too. And I was so scared and so angry and so sad I just — I did what I thought would make you happier instead of being a fucking man and owning up to it. But I didn’t, and now look at what’s in my hands. You’re all alone because of me. You’re crying because of me. Topher has to go back and forth between his parents because of me. I’m skipping meetings with my lawyer because I decided to file for a fucking divorce I didn’t even want. I broke our family apart, I broke us apart, I tore you from the inside out and didn’t even tell you that I was sorry.”

His eyes are closed, mouth open as it chokes out sounds of sorrow and pain, sounds of collapsing lungs and a torn chest.

“And I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

He speaks between sobs, his words broken and cracked but Y/n hears them loud and clear. He’s got her hand cradled against his soaking cheek, her palm pressed against the corner of his mouth that Harry keeps kissing.

He can’t fucking breathe and he really thinks this is it — that these are his last moments on earth and the next time he blinks, he’ll never open his eyes again.

Would he even want to, if Y/n isn’t the first thing he sees?

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed me to be. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry I let our son down. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been waiting on me and held yourself back because of me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved.”

He keeps kissing at her hand, rubbing at the back of her legs, holding onto her like he’d collapse if he dared let her go. He knows he’s going to have to eventually, but he can’t think about that right now.

He needs this — to feel her, to smell her, to soak her all in before their new forever begins, spent apart and living lives so far away from one another that they couldn’t cross paths even if they wanted to.

This is his goodbye. He knows it. She’s not going to forgive him no matter how much he begs for her to understand — how could she? He can’t blame her. He hasn’t even forgiven himself and doesn’t expect anything more from her now, other than to listen to him one last time.

“I love you so much and there will never be a universe where I don’t, or won’t. I think about you… everyday, every second. To this day, I wake up reaching for you at least three times a night, wondering why you aren’t with me. Every time I come to pick Topher up I spend an hour in front of my bathroom mirror telling myself that I have to hold myself back from you. And then when I see you, I have to keep myself together and hold myself in place because you just get more and more beautiful with every day that passes and — and it breaks my heart all over again.”

Y/n reaches her hand down to his hair, gently brushing her fingers back against his scalp because he needs her — she knows he needs her and she can’t choose to be selfish now.

Right now, he doesn’t need her to be anything but his wife, and this may be the last time she’ll ever be his.

They keep each other embraced for a while, silently, unmoving and bracing themselves for the fall they’re each going to have to take.

These are their dying moments — their final moments before the casket gets shut and thrown six feet below them — and it won’t be long before the dirt from the ground gets piled up again, over their bodies, leaving them to decay in the life they once believed belonged to them.

They know it’s to come, because this is the first time that they have been so close to each other, yet feel so lonely all at once. And it’s not supposed to be this way.

“I can’t pick a date, Y/n,” Harry breaks the silence with a whisper, almost losing his voice along the way because what he’s about to say is enough to kill him, “but if you give me one I’ll — I’ll do it, okay?”

He holds her hand even tighter than before.

“If that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it.”

[jaeminzie]

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.18

A Step Forward

11/27/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,213

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, jealousy

A/N: This one is a lot of dialogue. I mean, most of my chapters are but this one especially. Hopefully this sheds some light on what happened. These two still have a lot of work to do and hopefully this is the last big hiccup they have. Maybe? Who knows?!! lol Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really like writing these two together after so much time of them being at odds. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS FOR THIS STORY ARE CLOSED!

Steve is teetering upon the edge of slumber. His mind is racing, replaying the moment he'd messed the night up over and over.

You’re smiling at him. Happy. Happier than he's ever made you and then he steps in it. He tells the entire Great Hall about your problems and he doesn’t know why he just can’t stop talking.

He knows that he should. He knows that he needs to stop but staring at you, cherishing the brightness in your eyes—the love he thought he’d driven out of you—it all just comes spilling out.

He wants them to know that he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re amazing and kind and sweet and gentle and regal and forgiving and desirable and you’re his!

Somehow after everything, you’re his. Still.

He tries to play off your anger and it does lighten the mood in the room. Everyone seems to settle, and they don’t take it all as seriously as they probably should.

He can see you softening, that small hint of hope slips out and that little bead in your belly is not only the kingdom’s future but both your futures. Proof of the good that the two of you can create and somehow, you’ve allowed him to be blessed.

The body he'd ravaged cruelly, you turned his weakness into strength. You’re growing his baby. Both your baby. Precious. How can the baby not be when they’ll be half of you?

It spills out of him before he can stop it and he sees the rage in you return.

Then the two of you fight in your room and he says all the wrong things. Things he doesn’t mean. Things that slip from his stupid privileged tongue that he can’t take back.

Sarah Rogers would be disappointed in him. He knows it.

Like an idiot, he leaves you. He stops in his room and squeezes his hands into fists. He punches the wall by the door, and it cracks and crumbles.

“Fuck.” He sighs, defeated.

Why does he always mess up with you? He'll fix it in the morning. Because even if he went to you now, you’d never let him in. You’d want your space.

You said it too. “Alone.” He groans.

How long has he been laying here? Unable to sleep? You’re all he can think of. How he might be able to fix this. Again.

Always there seems to be something to fix because he breaks it. He breaks you.

Maybe you’d really be better off with someone else? Maybe leaving is what’s best for you?

These thoughts swirl around his mind as he keeps his eyes shut and urges himself to sleep.

Even after an entire afternoon spent sleeping in your arms, he’s exhausted. His mind makes no sense, jumping from one thought to the next.

Knowing that you could never really leave him makes him restless. Out of obligation you’ll stay by his side. Before that might have been enough, but now he wants all of you.

If it hurts you or if it makes you unhappy, he'd rather you go and be at peace. But then…he'd he alone again. Not just that, but he wouldn’t have you here. Brightening his days with your sweet smile.

What have I trapped her in? He thinks, agonized over your situation maybe more than you are.

His mind fills itself with the sight of you in your green dress. Gorgeous. His true flower among the lackluster gems in the crowd. They’re cold and hard whereas you are blooming and vibrant. Full of life.

You'd had your hands on him today too. In bed, on the dance floor. Soft warm digits caressing his face and body.

He can almost feel them here at the cliffside of slumber.

You’re tracing the shape of his arms, sliding your hands down onto his stomach, slipping one under the waist of his pants which he'd failed to remove before collapsing.

His mouth parts and he breathes in, tantalized by your touch until he realizes that he doesn’t smell peonies. It smells like mint and lemon. Small hints of gardenia. A soft tang. All wrong. Not you.

He’s been desiring your body. He wants to show you that he can make you feel good, just as Thor had…but this feels too good to be true after your fight.

“Y/N…” He calls out your name anyway, a passionate whisper, a wish for this dream in madness to be real.

He opens his eyes as a pair of lips press against his bare stomach and he yanks away from the blond head in his lap as deft hands make to slide his pants down.

“What are you doing?!” He’s in utter shock.

Not just because it isn’t you but because it’s someone that he would have never…no. This can’t be right.

Sharon. Maggie’s cousin. Her sister almost. One of his closest friends. Friends.

His senses come crashing back and before she can get his pants down further, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back.

“Sharon, what are you doing? Why are you in here? You sh-shouldn’t be here.” Steve demands, shock still his primary leaning, he blinks the sleep from his eyes, confusion muddling his brain.

His rapidly beating heart helps him focus.

Sharon herself looks almost dazed but her eyes are clear as she meets his.

“Steve,” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I never thought…tonight, watching you have to pretend with Y/N, that you love her and the baby…It should have been us after Maggie died.

“It’s what she would have wanted.” She reasons.

“No.” Steve shakes his head.

“I know that you know that I’ve always cared for you.”

“What?” Steve shakes his head.

“I always hoped that you’d look my way, but I resigned that wish when you and Maggie began to court.

“For you and for her, I would have done anything.” Sharon nods, her hands sliding up along his torso then back down to his hips.

“Sharon…” Steve begins, pushing her back harder until she’s sitting up fully.

“So, you don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be together. Let Y/N go and-"

“Sharon!” Steve says loudly, shaking her hard just once so that she’ll focus on him, her blonde hair swishing at the sides of her head with the rough shake. “First of all, what Y/N and I have is not a farce. It’s real. More real than anything I’ve had in a very long time, and I love her. Really love her. I’d die for her.”

Dramatic? Maybe. True? Definitely.

“But-" Sharon shakes her head, confused.

“Secondly, she is your Queen. You will treat her as such. You do not address her by first name. You do not speak to her as if you have known her all your life. Our friendship does not lessen your duty or obligation to respect and serve the crown be it King or Queen.

“Steve…”

“And thirdly,” Steve hesitates, if only because this woman is more than friend. She’s family.

Only a few years younger than Maggie but just as precious. Just as loved. A different love but love all the same.

“I have never felt for you the way you say you’ve felt about me.” He hopes he isn’t too harsh, but he also can’t leave her in any doubt.

Still, when he looks at her, he sees the small blonde girl racing after him, Margaret, and Bucky. Trying to keep up but unable. Calling out to them to slow down. “Wait foh me, Pwince! Maggie”

“I love my wife, Sharon. And your being here-this isn’t right. It isn’t proper. You’re crossing a line that once crossed will be hard to come back from."

“But if I can’t have you…” She begins voice utterly flummoxed. “…how am I supposed to keep Maggie alive?”

And she breaks. Steve sees it, right before his eyes. This woman, this fighter. Strong. Resilient. Part of the team…she breaks.

Whatever it was that had been keeping her together seems to shatter.

And Sharon weeps. Truly weeps. Steve can see in her the acceptance it took him nearly a year to acquire.

The reality that Maggie is gone. She will never come back and life is just that much emptier without her. It’s a hole that can never be filled. A piece that is taken and maybe over time the edges of the scar begin to heal and fade, but they’ll always be there. That unfillable hole. That pain.

Her sobs are not like yours—there you are again, taking over his brain—they’re quiet but make her whole body shake.

She wraps her arms around herself as if trying to keep herself together.

Steve’s hands flutter by her shoulders, at a loss. How can he comfort her without giving her the wrong idea? He can’t leave her like this.

She suddenly throws herself at him.

Her hands push him back as she straddles his waist and she pulls up her nightdress until it’s up above her thighs.

“Please, S-Steve j-just let me f-feel something…” She begs.

Steve is quick to get her off of him, shoving her to his left so that she rolls onto the bed and nearly off of it. The threat of falling makes her cling to his side.

He makes to shove her off but realizes she’s not clinging in a desire to get him in a compromising position but rather, she’s holding onto her sanity.

Her previous thought seems abandoned but still, Steve waits, checking to see if she might try again but she doesn’t. She only continues to fall apart and Steve’s heart aches for her.

His own eyes water and after a moment he gives in and holds her. He holds that little girl chasing after her older cousin, idolizing her strength. He gives her what he denied himself for a long time, reassurance.

“It’s going to be okay, Sharon. You’re going to be alright.” He assures her.

“I m-miss her!” She sobs, and Steve nods, rubbing her back.

“I know.” He gives her a few minutes to find some composure then makes to push her away.

“No!” Sharon cries harder, “Please, just a few minutes? I-I have no one now.”

Steve shakes his head, wanting to send her away but also unable to. How can she think she has no one? She’s family. She’ll always have the team.

“Sharon you can’t sneak in here like this again.” Steve chastises her, knowing her like a sister but unable to recognize the woman beside him.

He considers her as she sobs, wondering how long it has been since she talked about Maggie and what happened. Surely it wasn’t since the burial?

That amount of denial…

His lack of sleep begins to catch up to him as he watches her. He blinks, arms going slack around her as his eyes take longer and longer to open.

He doesn’t mean for it to happen. He was only going to give her a minute. Just enough to get herself together, then he’d show her out. But his exhaustion is too much.

Darkness takes him, then he hears it, the click of his door and a disbelieving gasp of betrayal.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” His Majesty says.

You feel the edge of his fingertips against the small of your back and you jerk away from his touch.

He takes his hand back. A sorrowful sigh warms your side.

He’s almost curled around your back like an oversized cat, keeping his hands to himself but he’s eager to look at your face.

What he’s trying to see you’re not sure. Your angry expression? The pain in your eyes? The way you do that thing with your mouth when you’re furious?

“My sweet, I’m sorry. Please believe me.” He begs.

Once again, he tries to touch you, this time he places his whole hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, nearly breathless. “I’m not ready for touch.”

You make it clear and pull away from him again.

He quickly takes his hand back and raises it a little so that you can see it.

“Okay, darling. Okay. I won’t touch you.” He looks like a big puppy. Large storm blue eyes giving off as much innocence as they can while you seethe.

You glare at him. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

He looks down at your hands, balled into fists around the sheets of your bed beside your thighs.

“I can-”

“You can’t.” You shake your head. “You can never know what it feels like to be lesser than. Inadequate. And then find the woman who makes you feel like that in your husband’s bed.”

“My husband?” Steve asks, smirking up at you.

“This is not the time to be making jokes!” You raise your voice, caring not that Peter can hear you.

The other guard switched off with him after all the screaming in the hallway.

Steve cowers. “Right, yes. You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. A complete moron.”

You give him your back again, arms crossed over your chest as you let your anger settle.

“Am I a game to you?” You demand, agony slipping through to coat your words with ire.

“What? No. Of course not, my flower!” Steve insists.

He moves around you, sliding off the bed to squat in front of you, his hands find your wrists and you glower.

Quickly he takes his hands back and places them just beside your knees instead.

“I’ve said that I’m sorry so many times, I think the words are beginning to lose their weight.” Steve nods slowly, reading your irritation accurately.

“You’re not wrong.” You bite. “So, why don’t you stop doing things to be sorry for?”

“I’m trying.” He leans forward, nearly putting his forehead against your lap, but he doesn’t lay it down. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him. “I’m trying so hard to do right by you, but I do everything wrong.”

“Not everything.” You counter. “Your grand gestures, they’re lovely but I can do without those.”

“You didn’t like the pavilion?” He worries.

“I loved it, your Majesty.” He sighs but doesn’t complain this time. “But it was unnecessary.”

“It was very necessary. I cannot pay such homage to my deceased wife when my living one is just as precious.” He fights. “If I could plant peonies in every field surrounding the castle, I would. In fact, I think I will.”

“Please don’t.” You shake your head. “As beautiful as that would be, the expense would be extravagant and there are much better uses we could put that money towards. The school in the village is in desperate need of repair and new books. Perhaps we can add a whole new wing? For a proper library with all the most recent-”

Steve laughs.

“Why are you laughing?” You demand, annoyed with him easily because you’re already angry.

“Because you’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.” He reaches up to caress your cheek, but you pull away. He drops his hand, unoffended. “Most women would be swooning at the idea of such an expensive gift.”

“Is that what Sharon would like?” You spew, vile and bitter and rightfully jealous.

You watch as the light that had just entered his eyes is extinguished.

“Y/N…Sharon is not…” He stops, realizing what he’s about to say then thinks better. “I didn’t know that Sharon felt that way about me. I’ve known her all my life. She’s like family. I’ve always seen her as a younger sister. She used to follow Bucky, Maggie, and I around when we were children. For me it had always been Maggie. I never thought that she would think of me in that way. I certainly never thought about her that way. And I don’t now,”

You’re hanging on his every word for more than just his assurance of his feelings.

This is the first time he’s ever volunteered any information about his life before you showed up. This is the first glimpse into what made the man you see before you into the man that he has become.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” He pleads.

“I don’t know.” You admit, frowning. “Seeing you and her like that…Why was she in your bed?”

Steve growls, and you look down, angry but feeling like a bother with your questions.

He seems to notice the way you shrink because despite your protests, he reaches behind you to slide his hands down along your back to reassure you.

“No, darling, no. I’m not…I’m frustrated with myself. With this whole situation.” He explains. “Never with you. Ask me whatever you’d like.”

“Answer my question then.” You order, recovering quickly. “And hands.”

He quickly pulls his hands back to rest beside your knees and licks his lips as he considers how to answer.

“She did think that I didn’t love you. She came to try to-” He stops, tilting his head to the right and back quickly as he chews his lip. “When I realized why she was there, I told her that she was wrong. Then she tried to do it anyway, but I pushed her off and where you saw her is where she fell. And I was going to push her off completely. Send her back to her room but then she was in hysterics over Maggie and I-”

“Why can’t I escape your wife?” You ask him, saddened by Maggie’s perpetual presence in your marriage. And you sound it. You’re exhausted.

“You’re my wife, Y/N.” Steve affirms.

You ignore him. “I’m not saying that I don’t ever want to talk about her. She was a large part of your life up until the point that she wasn’t, and I am desperate to know about your lives together, but why does she keep getting in my way?”

“I don’t know.” Steve sighs. “I think maybe it’s me and not Maggie.”

He blinks, his eyes lingering more towards closed.

“Were you sleeping? When Sharon went in?” You wonder, remembering the shift of your bed as you tossed and turned.

“No.” He says. “I was almost asleep all night long. Every moment that I came close to slumber my thoughts of our argument would pull me back.”

His cheeks suddenly flush and this time he reaches to grab hold of the soft white sleeve of your nightdress and gives it a few flirty tugs. It’s a shy gesture and it warms you. This new side of him—him reaching out for you—is pleasant and surprising. You’ve seen only the cold man and more recently the eager man. Eager to make amends and reinitiate the intimacy of husband and wife.

This shy probing person, blushing up at you from where he’s planted himself innocently between your legs, he’s unexpected.

“At first I thought it was you. When she touched me…it was in a way that I’ve wished for you to touch me.” He confesses, voice low, deep, coming out of his chest to melt your resolve.

Your neck burns and you swallow hard, then you remember why he’s down there and why you’re on the bed, fuming.

“I don’t want to hear about how Sharon touched you, your Majesty.” You chastise.

“No. I wasn’t going…all I meant to say is that I only want you to do anything like that to me. I don’t need any other woman’s touch. Only yours.” He promises. “I wish…well I wish she hadn’t snuck into my bed and done what she did, but I wish that it had been you. I want you.”

“Then why was she in your bed?” You demand, unmoved by his declarations.

Steve shuts his eyes, thinking back to the last thing he remembers, and he could feel Sharon shaking in his arms as she sobbed what must have been two years’ worth of sorry.

She’d rejected her grief like he had only hers had manifested in a different way. Where he’d hurt you in his attempts to deal with that grief, Sharon had thrown herself at him. Then finally succumbed to the agony and fallen apart in his arms.

“I was going to get her off…I just…she started to cry and then I don’t remember anything. I remember thinking that she shouldn’t have tried to ignore her sorrow and then…then you were walking in. We must have cried ourselves to sleep.” He realizes, sounding regretful.

“You were crying?” You nearly gasp, remembering the way he’d looked that first night after your wedding, sobbing at your bedside for what he’d done and the utter shame and regret he’d been feeling. That broken man had won you over with his sincerity but the sight of him had been heartbreaking, eyes all red and swollen, brow knit in anguish.

As handsome as he always is, it wasn’t a good look on him. Not one you wish to see repeated. It seems even now all you want is for him to be happy.

Without thinking you reach up to trace what you can now see are the dried trails of his salty tears. Your fingers are gentle and careful, all thoughts of anger gone for a moment.

He smiles, flipping your heart over and over as you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You wonder, moving to take your hand back but he catches it and he runs his thumb along your palm.

“How can you be worried about me now after everything that happened today? I thought you were angry at me?” He points out.

“I am angry with you.” You gripe, trying to pull your hand from his.

“Then why are you so kind? So caring?” He’s trying to read you and his scrutinizing blues have your stomach tumbling.

“I don’t understand your question.” You shake your head.

“I thought maybe you would choose not to speak to me again or maybe not care, after all of this.” He explains.

“Oh. Is that how it’s done here? Do you stop loving someone just because you’re angry at them?” You throw out. Maybe being a bit more bitter than you mean to be. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not some cool and collected noblewoman with skill I clearly have yet to learn. I don’t stop caring just because I’m angry.”

“No, Y/N…” Steve sighs and you yank your hand out of his grip. “I didn’t mean—”

You tear your eyes away from him, focusing off to the side at anything other than him.

Steve watches you, observing the way your shoulders droop, the way your lips quiver as if you’re ready to cry or maybe scream?

When he can’t stand your silence anymore, he sits down beside you, leaving no distance between you. He’s pressed against your side casually. The physical touch is not even a thought to him as he settles.

“You’re better than all of us, Y/N. You know that, right?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the ground as you finally turn to look at him. “Before I fell asleep, before Sharon…I started to think that maybe I’ve trapped you in this place without ever truly considering how this life might change you? Is this really the place where you belong?”

Your heart is suddenly racing. Is he going to send you away?

Your hand travels down to your stomach and you cup the small swell.

Wait, is he trying to get rid of you?

“Don’t you want me here?” You ask, not realizing how heartbroken you sound.

“What?” Steve looks at you, confusion etched across his handsome features. “Of course, I want you here.”

And then he’s laughing.

Laughing?!

“Why are you laughing again?” You demand, voice cracking a bit.

Steve turns to face you, his hands finding the sides of your face as he continues to laugh.

“This isn’t funny.” You protest, not realizing how close to tears you are.

“No.” He manages to say but chuckles a little bit more. “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I just can’t fathom how you thought I was telling you that I didn’t want you here.”

“Well, you said that-”

“I said that maybe, I trapped you in a situation where the life you lead can only be full of pain. I don’t like hurting you, flower. I hate it.” Suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore, but his thumbs are slowly tracing the shape of your cheekbones. “I wish I could take back every instance where I have hurt you.”

“Me too.” You admit.

“I want you here. I need you here. I love you.” He sighs.

Leaning in towards you, he tilts his head to the side slightly, but you quickly pull back before he can kiss you.

His hands slide off your cheeks as you lean away from the reach of his puckered lips.

“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You remind him. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

A lie. But he doesn’t know that.

“I still don’t understand how Sharon being in your bed is alright.” You tell him.

“It isn’t.” He acknowledges and places his hands in his lap. “I should have sent her away as soon as I realized she wasn’t you.”

“Why didn’t you?” You demand, refocused.

“Because she was heartbroken. And she’s like a sister to me. I feel responsible for her in some ways because she was Maggie’s younger cousin. It never occurred to me that she would do anything like what she did today.”

You ruminate on his words but your gut instinct from that first day meeting her rears its head.

“I knew that this was going to happen. From the moment that I met her, and she refused to call me by my title…”

“Ah, that she won’t be doing again.” Steve assures you. “I’ve made sure she knows that it’s unacceptable the way she’s been speaking to you.”

“But you won’t send her away?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

Steve thinks hard for a bit, gauging your expression before he shakes his head.

“I can’t.”

Your heart drops.

“But it isn’t what you think, my sweetness.” He scoots closer again and you reach up to push his arms away as he tries to bring them around you.

“Stop trying to touch me.” You tell him angrily. “Why can’t you send her away?”

Steve refuses to answer. He stares at you, face growing more and more torn as he weighs your need for answers. You make to get up and leave him there in your room, alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve reaches out for you and takes hold of your wrist. “Wait.”

You stop, turning to look at him, giving him a chance to remedy this. And in this moment, Steve knows that there is no other option. He must let you in completely or risk losing you permanently.

And this will be the last time he lets this happen. If tonight is any proof, you two cannot part angrily again. He won’t let it happen. He’ll stick to your side until the two of you have worked out whatever it is that’s come between you until he knows that you’re okay.

You are his choice and he will stand by it until he dies.

The tightness in his chest is painful. The thought of you away from him, hating him, and with his baby too? No. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll tell you. Please sit down?” He reaches for you and you don’t fight him this time.

You let him touch your hip and he turns you so that when you sit on the edge of the bed, you’re facing him.

He takes the opportunity to feel your tummy and you don’t pull away, which he’s grateful for.

You’re too good for him.

You’re justified in your anger and contempt and yet here you are, giving him this little bit of comfort even though you could continue to push his hands away.

“What I’m about to tell you is not something that should be repeated outside the confines of this room. If we’re alone, then it’s alright but if we aren’t, I need you to keep this secret. I know I can trust you, but I need you to know that this puts you in danger.” He sighs heavily. “More than you already are. I wanted to keep this from you for as long as I possibly could. This is not part of your life here, but it is a part of mine and Sharon’s and Nat’s and Bucky’s…we’re all part of it and since we’re always around you—”

You gasp and Steve stops to look up at you. Realization has made your eyes wide as saucers.

“The man who attacked me?” You guess.

Steve wants to smile. You’re so smart. Instinctive. Perfection.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “I’m certain it’s because you’re my Queen. But it’s more than that. Natasha, Samuel, Bucky, Peter, your father-”

“My father?!” You ask him in shock, Steve nods.

“Yes, your father. Your mother. Thor…Sharon…and a few others you haven’t met—all of us work hard to fight the evils of the world. This unfortunately exposes our loved ones to dangers.” Steve nods, watching the shock fade from your face. “Dangers that I didn’t want you exposed to. Dangers that have already found you.”

Deep fear begins to take root in his chest, choking him and he wants to hold you if only to feel you close and safe. But you don’t want to be hugged right now.

“So…” He can see your mind racing, thinking up a hundred different things until you seem to settle on one. “…Maggie? She was also part of this group?”

Steve nods. “Yes. She was my partner, in every sense of the word. She and Sharon made quite the team too. And when I lost her…to infection…I’d always prepared myself to lose her in battle. I know she’d thought about losing me that way too. We’d talked about it before. I never expected it to be so…normal.”

He wonders if you can suddenly see why he’s struggled so much with Maggie’s death. He’d come face to face with situations that meant life and death all the time, only to lose her when they were supposed to be safe, it took him so long to come to terms with it. For a long time, he couldn’t accept it.

And Maggie and Sharon were so close.

“So, she’s here because of the attack? Sharon?” You guess, and he wants to kiss that smart little head of yours.

“I sent for her as soon as Thor told me what he saw. It’s why he wasn’t here tonight. He’s been making regular scouting missions from here to Asgard since you got back. Just to make sure you’re safe.” Although Steve is grateful for Thor’s assistance, he’s also a little miffed. You’re his wife. Why does Thor feel so entitled to you?

Smug jerk.

“We were all going to meet tomorrow. She’ll hate herself in the morning.” Steve knows that she’ll find a way to apologize to you and him.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for her?” You ask him, and as Steve meets your eyes, he’s surprised though impressed by the sharp edge in your tone. The rage still bubbling there beneath the surface. “Because I don’t.”

“I know.” Steve nods.

“I don’t want to see her. Or speak to her. How long will she be here?” You wonder.

This disappoints Steve a little. He’d really wanted you and Sharon to get along since she’s precious too, but he can see how that is impossible now.

Why had she gone and tried something so foolish? Why had he let her stay? He shouldn’t have been swayed but she’s like a sister.

“I’ll send her home after the meeting.” Steve offers. “So long as nothing comes up. She’s very skilled at fighting those evils I spoke about.”

Steve can already see the hesitation in your pretty face. The regret. The guilt at asking him to send her home right away.

“If she’s really that valuable…if having her here makes things easier. If you want her here-”

“I will send her home as soon as the meeting’s over, my flower.” He insists, resolute in his choice. “I want you to be happy here. I know that things have been difficult for both of us. I’ve made things difficult for both of us, but I told you that I’m going to show you how much I love you and need you here and I meant it.

“There’s only you, Y/N. You are my forever and I hope to make it a pleasant forever. For me but especially for you. I have so much to make up for, if you will let me?”

You’re watching him, eyes big, trying not to blink because there’s a small puddle under each eye growing bigger by the second.

God, he hates it when you cry. If he could take all of your tears and turn them into smiles he would. No…your laugh would be better. So beautiful.

“Say something, little flower.” He pleads, moving the hand resting on your little swell to your hips. He scoots closer when you don’t pull away.

Will you let him hold you? He loved sleeping with you today. Cuddling together. Feeling your soft body between his arms had felt better than he would have thought possible.

Your tears finally spill over and he brings his hands up to wipe them away as they fall.

“Do you feel this way only because of the baby?” Your lip trembles and he feels his heart shatter. “I mean, I know that it’s what we’ve been waiting for, what you’ve needed, and I was just wondering-”

You look down at your hands, run them over your teeny bump, caressing the child sweetly. You’re already in love with that little one. You’re exuding devotion for it.

“-If maybe the reason you’re so eager to-to keep me here is because of the baby? I-”

Steve brings his hand down to take hold of your chin, gently pulling it upwards until he can meet your watery eyes.

“I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” He whispers, “And I only fought it for so long out of a misplaced sense of responsibility for Margaret. You are my responsibility now. You are my love. This child is a blessing but even without it, even if the kingdom were taken from me, you are my wife.

“I will show you. What happened tonight…that will never happen again. I’m an idiot. A large one.” Steve can’t help but smile at you as you sniffle, reaching up to wipe your nose as you consider his words.

“I’ll leave again.” You tell him, not a threat but it’s a promise. He can see the determination in your eyes. “I can’t stay with that happening in the other room. Our room…”

Your drift off sadly and Steve realizes why you’d been at his door.

You had been coming to be with him. In his bed. And he’d found Sharon there instead.

“Shit.” Steve’s throat is tight. How is it possible that he missed this small detail? “It is our room. Damn it, Y/N. I will…I will have the bed remade. I will-What color do you want? We can redecorate the entire thing. Make it new. It will be our room. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”

Steve watches as you stare at him, then finally, your lips take a small curl. It’s not a full smile, but it’s a small one. Just enough to give him hope that he hasn’t fucked this marriage up permanently.

“I’m really tired.” You tell him, and Steve springs up to clear your side of the bed. He pulls the blankets back and holds them up as you slide in. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my flower.” He smiles at you, tucking you in and then letting his hands linger on your stomach.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask him, and when he meets your eyes, he finds you watching him with uncertainty.

“Of course, I am.” He says with determination. “Of course.”

He moves around the bed, blowing out a few of the candles that had been left on as he goes plunging the room into semi-darkness with only the light of the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room.

He settles in, turning to face you and makes to hold you.

“No.” You protest. Steve freezes. “I’m not ready for that. I’m still angry with you. For more than Sharon.”

Damn. You’re right of course. Steve had gone and said too much at the feast.

“Right.” He nods, unable to help the crestfallen look on his face. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“You can hold my hand.” You offer, and when he looks at you, you’re holding your hand out towards him, laying on your side to face him.

Steve smiles. Hope. This is all he needs for now. As long as you haven’t given up on him, he’s okay.

He takes your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your fingers. He lays with you in silence. Watching as your eyes slowly shut, and when you’re fast asleep, he closes his too.

[petra-deserved-better]

Prompt from @himebee-5 Rivetra list.

“Petra getting injured/aggressed and we see her trying to overcome the trauma with some help of Levi and the squad and her other friends (Nifa/Nanaba)

(There was also the other prompt about Petra having a panic attack on the other list that I combined with the above but I forgot to write it down sorry!)

Pairing: Levi x Petra

Cannonverse

2795 Words

——————————————————————————

It had been two months since the incident on their last expedition, one month since she’d been deemed well enough to return to active duty. She loved her job, she’d been desperate to get out of medical and back to work. It was what made her present situation more frustrating, this couldn’t keep happening, every time she promised herself it would be the last time and every time she was wrong.

Sooner or later someone was going to notice. The thought terrified her. They would think she was weak, that she wasn’t ready to go outside the walls again. They’d give her desk duties!

The thought of that alone caused Petra to take a few deep calming breaths, the worst had passed already but her heart was still pumping a little too fast, her ears ringing a little too loud.

She flushed the chain of the toilet cubicle she had been hiding in, just in case anyone was outside wondering what she was up to. She walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. Her reflection in the mirror was a sorry one, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes swollen from panicked tears. She splashed more cold water on her face, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, if she waited just a few minuets more it wouldn’t be obvious she had been crying, she just hoped no one had noticed her absence yet.

The door to the women’s bathrooms swung open, and Petra cursed her bad luck as Nifa walked in, she paused when she saw Petra and cast a critical eye over her appearance.

“What’s wrong?” Nifa asked softly, but the spark in her eyes showed that the softness would melt away if she thought someone had wronged her friend.

Petra loved Nifa, outside of her squad she was the person she was closest to in the whole of the survey corps but that didn’t change the fact that she was the last person Petra had wanted to run into. Nifa was altogether to intuitive and right now Petra had a secret she needed to hide. It was part of the reason she’d been avoiding Nifa since she came out of medical a month ago.

“My injury was hurting a bit after training that’s all.” Petra said quickly, it was the first thing that had come to mind. She was a terrible liar so she’d gone with a half truth. Her injury did ache mildly when she trained now, the excruciating pain of the first week or two of her recovery was still fresh in her mind and so she thought the excuse was plausible.

Nifa arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at her and Petra felt her stomach drop a little, she knew Nifa wasn’t buying it.

“Is Captain Levi working you too hard, because I can tell Squad Leader Hange to speak to him if you want?”

“No!” Petra cried a little too loudly. “No, honestly he’s not.” She laughed a little self consciously.

“Are you sure? You know Hange isn’t scared of him like the others, she’ll tell him to lay off.”

“Please don’t.” To her dismay Petra felt a lump form a little in her throat as she spoke, she was a crier at the best of times, but at the moment she just couldn’t seem to keep her emotions in check. She cleared her throat and gave Nifa a weak smile. “Honestly, Captain Levi isn’t working me too hard at all. If anything he’s going easy on me which he never does.”

It was the truth, she’d practically had to beg him to let her return to active duty as early as he had. He barely gave her half the exercises he had before her accident when they were training and seemed to be always finding excuses to send her off on stupid errands instead of getting her to do laps or push ups with the squad. He’d even mentioned her staying behind when they went outside the walls again next month. It made Petra sick just thinking off it. He’d been there when the titan had grabbed her on their last expedition outside the walls, he’d seen the whole thing, he was the one who’d sliced the nape of the monsters neck seconds before it had been able to swallow Petra whole. He hadn’t treated her the same since, he was disappointed in her she was sure of it. Every day she lived in dread that he was going to tell her she couldn’t be part of his team anymore, and then what would she do. She had planned to devote herself to this fight, she was devoted to him, life without her captain seemed meaningless.

Which is as why it was important that her squad mates and her Captain never found out about these episodes she kept having. No one could know the truth.

“Petra,” Nifa’s voice came out softer than usual she reached out and squeezed Petra’s arm. “I just want you to know, if you ever want to talk about what happened on the last expedition I’m always here.”

“Thanks, but really I’m fine now. I Just can’t wait to get back out there.”

Nifa huffed, Petra was pretty sure she knew she was lying.

“Ok, just promise me you’ll be gentle with yourself, some injuries take longer to heal than others.”

Petra nodded and rushed out of the bathroom as quickly as she could, Nifa was kind but she didn’t know what she was talking about, Petras ribs were healed, she was fine, she just needed to get back out there and show everyone she could fight titans without making any mistakes this time. Then she would be ok, then she would be back in control she told herself. She just had to get through the next few weeks without anyone noticing how far from ok she really was.

XxxX

The titans hand was huge and it loomed over her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breath, she could barely think her heart beat was pounding so loud in her ears. The gigantic hand inched closer slowly, if she could have moved she could have got out of its way but she couldn’t make her body work, her arms and legs were heavy, tied down by invisible weights. She opened her mouth but she couldn’t even scream. White hot pain spread through her chest before the titans hand had even reached her. She could smell the stale stench of its breath. The pain in her chest grew worse, her throat ached as she desperately gasped for air that she couldn’t seem to get into her lungs. In a few short seconds it would be over, this was it, she was going to die! If only she could move, she just needed to…

Petra sat up in bed with a strangled cry, tears were streaming down her face and her heat beat was still wild in her ears, but she was in her room.

“I’m safe, there’s no titan. I’m safe, there’s no titan.” She closed her eyes tight and repeated the words over and over until she felt the panic begin to subside, only then did she dare open her eyes again.

She took a moment to anchor herself into her small room. She looked at each item carefully, her desk, her chair, her little trunk that contained her uniform and some civilian clothes, her boots sat neatly next to her door. She looked at the slim line of dawn light that peeked through the gap in the curtains that hung on her small window. She told herself over and over that she was safe. When she finally felt calm she cursed the fact that it had happened again. The attacks were becoming more frequent.

She was still shaken when she went to breakfast later that morning. The boys on her squad were more like brothers than friends. Usually she reveled in their lively banter but today it grated on her nerves, she felt jumpy. She told herself she was being ridiculous, she was in the middle of the Survey Corps headquarters, there weren’t going to be titans hiding round corners waiting to grab her. She needed to get a grip. Her squad was doing fitness training today and she could barely wait to get started. She knew that once she was doing her workout her mind would be focused and she would feel better.

“Hey Pet!” Oruo clapped his arm round her shoulder and Petra felt herself jump out of her skin. She knew it was an over reaction but she pushed him away harshly anyway.

“Jesus Oruo are you trying to give me a heart attack.” She snapped.

Oruo held up his hands defensively. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.” She said sharply.

“Are you ok?”

Shit. She knew Oruo was often misunderstood by people because he had a tendency to show off, but Petra had known him since they were five and knew him better. He was loud and a little bit of a smart mouth but he wasn’t stupid. He’d been asking her if she was ok on an almost daily basis these days and although she knew him well enough to know his heart was in the right place she didn’t have the mental composure to keep telling him she was ok when she wasn’t.

“Get off my back Oruo you’re not my keeper.”

She knew she was being unfair but she was rattled, she was jumpy and she was scared if she tried to answer his question she just might tell him the truth. To make matters worse she saw Captain Levi entering the mess hall, she couldn’t face him right now either. She grabbed her coffee and stood up.

“I’m going to go get some laps in ahead of training.”

She left quickly before any of the boys could ask awkward questions.

XxxxxX

This was why she loved to train, she thought as she ran laps around the training room. Her mind was focused, the slight burn of her muscles as she ran was a welcome distraction.

She was entirely focused on the task at hand. That in the end was her downfall, she hadn’t heard anyone else enter the room, she thought she was entirely alone, when she caught sight of the shadow of another person in her peripheral vision it was her undoing.

Her brain jumped to the most unreasonable conclusion, there was no rationalising, no sensible thought. It all happened too quickly, her mind screamed one word at her.

Titan!

She was in the forest again, and she didn’t see the Titan in time again, and it’s hand grabbed her again squeezing the life from her, inching her towards certain death inside its stinking mouth.

No,no,no,no,no.

Her heart raced wildly, her hands tingled, her vision blurred, she could hear the sound of herself sobbing as if she was listening to someone else.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been when the panic finally began to subside. Slowly her surroundings came back into view. She’d some how managed to get herself to the corner of the room, her knees up to her chest her arms curled protectively around herself. As she blinked to clear her vision the sight nearly made her wish she was truly back in the titans grasp- There staring at her with his usual half lidded expression was the one person she hadn’t wanted to see, Captain Levi.

“So, how long have you been having panic attacks?”

Petra’s mouth fell open as she tried to think of an excuse, some explanation. But there was no way she could explain away what he’d just seen, her secret was out. She dropped her head back down into her knees in despair. She heard the Captains footsteps walking away. She waited for him to return. She wondered if he would bring Hange or just one of the nurses who worked in medical, she wondered if they would let her rest some more or discharge her from the military altogether. She felt thoroughly miserable.

She barely registered the sound of his footsteps returning till he was practically in front of her, she summoned up the courage to look up and to her surprise it was still just the captain. He handed her a glass of water and Petra took it numbly.

To her immense surprise the Captain then sat down on the floor next to her and handed her the handkerchief he kept in his pocket.

“Thank you.” She said quietly as she took it from him and wiped the trail of tears from her face.

“You should drink that.” He said indicating the glass he’d handed her.

Petra obediently sipped her drink.

“How long?” He asked again.

“Oh, well, um, actually…” Petra faltered, as she wondered how she could down play what he had just seen without lying. She knew without a shadow of a doubt she could never lie to her Captain.

“Tch, tell the truth brat.”

Petra smiled slightly, she wasn’t sure how her Captain always managed to make the insult sound like an endearment.

“Since the incident on the last expedition.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry Captain.”

The Captain let out a long sigh and Petra closed her eyes and waited for him to tell her the words she’d been dreading, that she was off the squad. Instead to her surprise she felt his hand pat the top of her head, just for a split second, so quick she wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.

“People don’t almost end up as Titan shit and then just carry on like nothing’s happened. If I’m honest your lack of reaction was starting to concern me.”

Petra sighed, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest now someone knew the truth, it would almost be worth the consequences, almost. She glanced at her Captain, he was looking off into the distance, it gave her the confidence to look at him more closely she studied his profile trying to remember every detail of his face for later. Her chest felt hollow at the thought of not working under him anymore, not seeing him every day.

He turned to look at her, the sudden directness of his gaze made heat rise in her cheeks and Petra had to look away. She swallowed and took a deep breath, her father has always told her there was no point delaying the inevitable.

“Sir, I completely understand if you want me off the squad.”

“There are teas that can help,” he said as if he hadn’t even heard her. “Of course they only help with the symptoms. You need to actually talk to someone about them, rationalise your fears in order to really conquer them.”

“Yes sir.” She replied quietly head still down.

“In the mean time you can still train as normal but I don’t want you going out on any expeditions until your better understand.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes met his, her heart skipping a beat barely allowing herself to hope.

“You mean I’m not off the squad.”

“Why would you be off my squad?”

Joy bubbled through her, she felt dizzy with relief, without thinking she threw her arms around her captain. She only recollected how completely inappropriate her actions where when she felt the Captain jump at the contact. She pulled back, the Captains eyes were wide with shock and if Petra had been feeling more herself she might have noticed the blush that coloured his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry sir!” She said clapping her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. “I was just so sure you wouldn’t want me within a mile of the squad when you realised how weak I’d become.”

He frowned at her. “You would never have made it back from so many expeditions if you were weak Ral.”

“Yes but I almost didn’t make it back last time and now I’m a mess.”

An almost imperceptible dark shadow passed across her Captains face as she spoke.

“Well just make sure that doesn’t happen again ok, that’s a direct order. Speak to Hange she’ll be able to point you in the direction of a suitable Doctor.” He said standing up.

“Yes sir.” She replied also standing. “I’ll go speak to hange now.”

She left feeling lighter than she had done in the last two months. She had no idea that she had struck terror into the heart of the man she left behind for the second time in as many months. First when she’d almost gotten killed by a Titan and second when she’d spoken of leaving his squad.

[kiome-yasha]

Rizumo:To be Saved

This is based on a Mafia!AU I have in works in my head. There's a story behind it, but here's a tease on the idea. Maybe someday will make a multi-chapter fic for it after The Devil's Bed :3. 

Prompt: "I'm not mad at you for saving my life. I'm mad at you for making me care about yours." which was given to me from the AoEX Writer Discord. Since it is such a Rizumo line.

To be Saved

Izumo paced back and forth outside the door, her crimson dress doing little to cover the blood that was stained against it. It was even splattered across her face and the bare opening between her breasts. It all had happened so fast, the gunshots clear inside her head—to think it was meant to be her behind those doors. He acted without hesitating, shielding her immediately after the first shot had been missed. It shouldn’t have been lethal for someone like him, but silver bullets were nothing to take lightly for their kind.

Rin, her bodyguard, was only doing his job. The job Mephisto had strictly reminded him to keep no matter what. She was his biggest star, becoming very protective of her value. A vixen destined to sing amongst the masses of hell as they threw roses and money inside the club by each performance she made. And him? A bastard worth little to even compare—even when his father was Rinka himself.

Even so, what right did he have to think his life was any less than hers?

She didn’t realize how much she was trembling until Yukio had opened the door, nearly startling her.

“How is he?” she asked quicker than she intended.

Yukio grimaced at her reaction. “He’s fine. I took out the bullets and treated any traces of poison in his system. He’ll survive,” he answered callously.

She frowned at his response, not quite believing how dismissive he was towards his own brother’s wellbeing. Even if they were twins and Yukio was considered human, she would have thought he'd at least be a little concerned.

“If I were you, I would clean yourself up before going in to see him,” he said, picking up his briefcase.

Suddenly feeling indecent by how she looked, Izumo crossed her arms over her chest. It did little to cover Rin’s blood though, the stench of it filling the hallway.

“Let me know if anything changes in his condition, but he’s stable for the most part.” He bowed, signifying his leave. “Have a goodnight.”

She only nodded, appreciating his words. He walked out towards the main entrance, leaving her alone in silence.

Izumo stared at the door across from her, wanting to just rush in to see him. She heeded to Yukio’s words though, deciding to detour herself to her room instead to wash up. Thankfully, Tsukumo was asleep in her room, having missed all the ruckus. Izumo ignored the glamorous decor of her room when entering it, ignoring all the gifts and love notes sprawled across her dresser. She undressed along the way to her bathroom, discarding each piece of clothing across the floor with each step she took.

The shower was longer than she anticipated, the blood already becoming dry. She scrubbed aggressively, trying her best to clear off any remains of it. Her skin became red from the scorching water, ignoring the sting. Izumo leaned her head into the tile wall, trying her best to collect herself. Tears threatened to fall, but she pushed them back.

“Don’t you dare cry now,” she said to herself, gritting her teeth from the frustrating weight inside her chest. “He’s going to be okay, he’s alive. Nothing to lose your head over. He did his job, nothing more to it than that.”

However, the reassurance to herself was fleeting, bracing her fists against the wall with a hard thud. “Fucking idiot!” she seethed, allowing the water to wash over her for a mild moment of peace.

Once she was done, Izumo threw on her nightgown, leaving her hair wet and matted against her face. She had little patience in drying it right now, her back completely drenched. She took careful steps back to the room Rin was in, trying to gather her composure. She was the vixen of the 2nd district of Gehenna—there was no way she was going to let something like this unhinge her.

When she opened the door to his room though and saw his bandaged chest she nearly wanted to lose it. Blood had already soaked through the once white and satin fabric, his face glistening with sweat. His eyes were closed, but there were traces of pain behind them. Izumo closed the door, hesitating the urge to rush over to him and embrace him.

Despite what Yukio had told her, he didn’t seem well at all!

The click of the door caught his attention, causing him to open his eyes and look over at her. “Izumo…?” he hoarsely spoke, managing to break out a grin. “You’re okay….I’m so relieved.”

She glared at him—how could he even think to smile over a situation like this!?

He tried to sit up, causing her to move quickly to his side. “Idiot! Don’t move!” she scolded harshly, forcing him to lay back down.

He waved her off. “I’m fine, seriously.” He hissed loudly from the sudden jolt of pain in his chest, choking back his words.

She shook her head, sighing with disapproval. “Your wounds say otherwise.”

“I’ll be healed up by tomorrow morning, it’s not a big deal,” he said, clutching his side.

“Rin, just shut up and relax, would you?” she harshly reprimanded him. “You need to stop thinking you Mr.Invincible just because you have Satan’s blood in your veins.”

He pouted at her words, deciding to settle back into the cushions. It was all he needed was her lecturing right now. Besides, if it was her who had gotten shot, he never would have forgiven himself.

“Better me than you,” he conveyed softly. “Even if with your own demon blood, you wouldn’t have been able to sustain all those bullets.”

“Are you saying I’m weak?” she snapped, bracing a hand to her hip.

“No!” he quickly retorted, “Only that I could survive something like this probably far better than you.”

“It’s not like I need your protection or your insight of what I can take or not!” Her emotions were nearly tipping over now, his words setting her off.

He winced at her sudden aggression, retaliating with his own temper. “I’m your bodyguard! That’s sort of my job!”

She gritted her teeth, lacking a clever retort.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad anyway…I saved your life, isn’t that the important part to take away from here? Most people would be grateful for stuff like that,” he said, sending her over the edge.

Izumo was instantly triggered. "I'm not mad at you for saving my life! I'm mad at you for making me care about yours!”

Rin froze from her sudden confession, soon becoming baffled. “Wait…what?” he asked with pure confusion, his mouth gaping open.

Her face was completely red, feeling embarrassed by her sudden emotional outburst.

“You heard me,” she said firmly, finding it futile to even alter what she meant. “You can’t just do what you want without my consent, especially regarding your life! So the next time you think about risking your life for me, you better hope you die, because you’ll be facing far worst consequences. So, tell me, do you really want to face that?”

Rin blushed lightly from her claim, not knowing how to respond.

He soon gave a short chortle, as he couldn’t help but be amused. “That’s quite unfair and selfish of you, don’t you think?” he inquired, giving her that look that always somehow made her melt.

“Tough, leave your complaints to Mephisto then,” she quipped with a huff.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” He laughed.

She then flinched when his hand met hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Izumo bit her lip, blushing tremendously as he stroke her palm almost too lovingly. Normally, she would retreat from such action, but something deep inside her relished it. His hand was so warm, never realizing how much she yearned to touch him until now—to know he was alive.

Before long, he carefully scooted across the bed, offering a space for her. “Do you mind keeping me company for a while?” he asked innocently.

There was unspoken hesitation on her part, but she complied either way for her own sake. She slipped in and rested her head into the crook of his shoulder, making sure not to agitate any of his wounds. Rin secured his arm around her, feeling the effects of the pain killers begin to kick in. He was too numb to care about her hair being wet and too relieved that she agreed to stay with him. Exhaustion took Izumo instantly, making her realize how long the night really was. She soon drifted into slumber, allowing him to cradle her slender body into him.

As for Rin, he kept his slightly open, knowing full well, if it were ever between him and his mistress’s life, there would be no competition.

End

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Love your Huwumi fics!!! Can we get some Meet Cute 24 for them? Thnx

Well here’s another idea that’ll most likely escalate into something bigger lmao! Please enjoy this little bit of cute, flirty fun!

If not for Akiko’s insistence and offer of a discount, she wouldn’t have done it. Or so she told herself.

As far as Fuyumi was concerned, she still didn’t understand why she was expected to attend big, ritzy events to help promote her father’s business. After all, it wasn’t like she worked for or with him. She was a grown adult with her own career and her own life to live! She wasn’t obligated to do anything just because her father said so! 

But even still… She liked to maintain friendly relations in her tense family. So when her father had offered to reimburse her the cost of some ballroom dance classes so that he could take her to an upcoming gala in two months time? She was… unenthused, but had agreed nonetheless. When she’d mentioned it to her dear friend, Akiko, she had jumped on it like a starved alley cat on a chicken nugget.

"You should take the class I teach!" she insisted before taking a small sip of her coffee. She made a face. "Ugh! They put way too much caramel syrup in this."

"I thought you taught salsa, flamenco, and ballet fundamentals?" Fuyumi asked. Akiko and her mother, Umeko, ran a dance studio together. Fuyumi had attended some of the ballet classes there back in high school but, once she entered college, hadn’t had the time to keep up.

She nodded, stirring her drink with her straw. "I do. But I'm also teaching pole and ballroom right now," she said. After deciding her drink was mixed up enough, she took another sip. She still made a face, but this time it was a bit more restrained. "Anyway, we're starting up a new six-week session this Friday. The class runs from 6:30 to 7:30, and I know you can make time that night."

Fuyumi let out a small whine and took a sip of her own drink, becoming immediately overwhelmed by the thick vanilla flavor. She swallowed hard and made a face. "You weren't kidding about them going hard on the syrup," she mumbled.

"Right?" Akiko laughed. "But back to the point at hand! The ballroom session we run doesn’t just teach the waltz; we also do the basics and intermediate steps of the cha cha and the tango! That’ll most def impress all those stuffy old douchebags you’ll be spending the night putting up with!”

Fuyumi whined a bit louder as she tried mixing her own drink up to try and distribute the syrup a bit more, maybe water it down a little. “I don’t know,” she trailed uneasily. Sure, it would be nice to be able to go to the gala and put her best foot forward, but more from the sense of just looking good for herself rather than out of spite. She loved Akiko but the other young woman was motivated by only a few things and vengeance was one of the biggest.

“Please sign up? For me? If you do, I'll have an even number of students to pair up! And I’ll even give you a discounted rate on the classes so you aren’t hurting as bad for cash while you wait on your dad to pay you back!" the other pleaded, fluttering her big brown eyes. 

She snorted a bit at it before rolling her eyes. ”Okay, okay, you win. I’ll sign up,” she said, giggling when her friend openly whooped in delight. She took a sip of her drink again and found it… slightly more palatable. She then indicated the other woman with her cup. “But just know I’m only doing this for the discount! And you better draft up the receipts as if you charged the full amount!”

“Of course! Only if you agree to not tell mom that I gave you a discounted rate,” she said, tilting her head and waggling her eyebrows at the other suggestively. They stared at one another before devolving into giggles.

And before Fuyumi knew it, Friday night was upon her.

She swallowed as she walked into the packed room at the studio, the crowd thick enough that it was hard to catch glimpses of herself in the full length mirror against the opposing wall. She considered going over to talk to Akiko, but could see her preoccupied with introductions from some students. Instead, she headed over to the far wall where people were setting their bags down, the odd sensation of eyes on her making her move a bit quicker. She set her bag down and quickly tossed her hair up in a messy but tight bun before tugging self-consciously as the tank top she was wearing as her eyes scanned the room. Oh, gosh, should she have bought some proper dancer’s clothes? She had thought about it going out after work on Thursday, but there had been a last-minute staff meeting that zapped up what little free time she had before she needed to be home to have dinner ready on time. She had figured that the old tank top and capri sweats she’d grabbed would suffice for one class but maybe that was presumptuous of her. 

She was snapped from her musing by a loud clap. She jumped and glanced over at where Akiko stood in front of the group with one of the male instructors by her side. “Okay, everybody, we’re gonna get you guys partnered up! Everybody stand with your back to the mirror and in height order, please,” she directed before turning to say something to her associate.

It was as she moved to join the others in the class that the sensation of being watched returned. From the corner of her eye she caught a flicker of movement and turned to face her watcher. She froze as she locked with sharp eyes of liquid gold settled in a tastefully scruffy face. He was physically fit, wearing a breezy tank top that showed off the defined muscles along his arms and dipped a bit low around the neckline to hint that there was more where that came from. His hair was a gleaming blonde messily pushed out of his face with a black headband. And then there was her deepest, darkest weakness; a light bit of facial hair along his chin and jaw. He was an attractive guy, to put it mildly, and must have confidence, given how he didn’t flinch away when her eyes sought him out. Instead, he slowly leaned back against the balance beam poised just in front of the mirror, tilting his head and flashing her a smirk, looking more like a model on set than some rando in a dance class.

She answered with a small smile of her own when he followed it up with a wink and wandered off to find her place in the line up.

Akiko did a quick scan of those present before she started matching up pairs. She took Fuyumi's wrist and led her right over to Mr. Golden. "Todoroki, Takami, you two will work together," she said, tilting her head out of the young man's view to wink at Fuyumi's pinkening face.

Takami was quick to take her hand with a small hum. "Todoroki-Chan, is it? A pleasure to meet you," he hummed, lifting her hand up to press a quick kiss to the top of her hand.

Fuyumi wished she could slap her cheeks in that moment but instead she politely cleared her throat. “Charmed,” she said gently, forcing herself to regain her composure.

“Oh, I am,” he practically purred.

She flashed a quick glance at her friend, greeted by the other’s dark brown eyes gleaming in amusement. “Okay, Takami. You can flirt with Todoroki on your own time, not my dime. Let’s get everybody on the floor and start with the basic moves, shall we?”

Fuyumi squared her shoulders, heart hammering as Takami led her to join the other pairs in the the lines, Akiko and her partner already having scrambled to the front and starting to give the overview of what the goal was for that days class. Fuyumi was rather relieved that there was a moderate breath of space between their bodies for the waltz steps, as it gave her some level of physical separation from her partner while still being close enough to exchange sly glances. Additionally, it seemed like Takami had a little bit of experience with some kind of dance before, given how easily he took the lead. Fuyumi herself had participated in other dance courses and, while the waltz lessons were new, also had a basic understanding of what to expect. She briefly wondered if Akiko also had some information regarding the prior dance history of her students to assist with picking partners, but couldn't say for certain.

She could, however, say for certain that her partner was charming and that she kind of liked the flirty looks they were exchanging.

“So,” he breathed quietly, at a point where Akiko stopped to help a different pair at the front correct their steps, “what has forced a fetching young lady such as yourself to a class like this?”

She felt a small smile turn up on her lips, a brief flash of courage sparking in her. “Hmm. That’s a rather strange way to put it. Do you think I have a reason other than humble interest behind being here?”

He cocked his head back a bit. “Call it a hunch, but… I get the feeling there’s more to this than a ‘humble interest.’”

“Is that so?” she hummed as they were instructed to return to their starting position to go over the steps again as a whole.

“I’d love to hear more about your reasoning. Maybe over coffee? Or dinner some time? My treat, for getting your phone number and to pick your brain a little,” he said.

She let out a thoughtful hum, sliding her hand slowly up to just a bit beneath his shoulder. Internally, she delighted in being able to touch the muscle she’d been quietly ogling not too long ago. She noticed the light way he shuddered at her touch and a part of her was thrilled by the subtle reaction. “I’ll tell you what,” she drawled. She didn’t miss the way his palm on her upper back flattened a bit more, shifting her just a hair closer and pressing a bit more of his warmth into her, as she spoke. She met his eye fully as she spoke. “If you can encounter me outside of the classroom, on the streets during the day… I’ll give you my number and we can have a little meetup.”

His eyes widened a hair before his grin shifted to more of a smirk. “Oh, so you’d like to play a little bit of cat and mouse? I like that,”

“I had a hunch you might,” she purred back, delighting in the playful back and forth between them. She normally wasn’t this forward or responsive to someone flirting with her. But when it got a guy like this to look at her like that, who was she to complain?

“Well, before we start the game proper, can I at least get the privilege of your full name? To let me know who to be listening out for?”

“Todoroki Fuyumi,” she said. “And what about you? I think I have the right to your name as well.”

He smirked and leaned a bit closer, “Takami Keigo,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper, right as the music clicked back on and they resumed their practice. Fuyumi had to suppress a shudder of delight as they moved, step by step, along the dance floor.

She would need to thank Akiko and Father for their instances after all.

[boat-dock]

“Knowing You is for the Better”  chapter 17

School has been really stressful lately but I’m trying to keep updating :))

Not for the first time that Hope wondered if it was strange that she almost never turned on a full moon, she’s done it twice, maybe three times in the three years since she triggered her curse. It wasn’t something she did on purpose, at least she didn’t think that she did. Tonight as she ran under a sliver of a crescent moon, she tried to remember what it felt to run with her pack in the bayou under the full moon, but she found that she barely could. One of the amazing things about her pack was that they could control when they turned, so now most full moons they relaxed and enjoyed their freedom. 

She started her run tonight with a goal in mind, but she was planning on running for a while to take the edge off of her nerves, however that was not what was happening. Her instincts were heightened in her wolf form, but tonight was different, there was a strange magic in the air that was overwhelming her senses. It was pulling her, guiding her through the forest. In the back of her mind she figured that this could be the work of her grandmother Esther, but as a wolf the consequences of that seemed very far away. She’d lost track of how long she had been running or where exactly she was, the ground was solid under her feet as she burst through the tree line and saw a towering mansion in the distance. 

It was a deep cream color that resembled marble, with more windows and arches than Hope could possible count. The years had taken a toll however, vines and cracks crawled up the walls, it looked destitute and abandoned compared to the lively Salvatore house that Hope was used to. She sucked in a deep breath and shifted back, so she was standing completely naked staring at her old family home. 

It was strange to think of the entirety of her father’s side of the family living here together, in fact it was nearly impossible to imagine them living anywhere together for a lengthy period of time without completely burning the place down. She’d known about this house for a while now but had never been, there was never a reason. The family that lived here weren’t the same people that she knew now, of the parts of her past she chose to dwell on this was not one of them. 

The wind whipped around her and she regretted her lack of clothes, not that she was cold, due to her tribrid nature it was very difficult for her to feel the cold, but she was very exposed. She doubted there would be anyone here, most people had forgotten about this old house and even if they remembered it they most definitely avoided it. It was quiet and still as she padded across the grass toward the main door, or at least what she assumed was the main door. 

It creaked open slowly with a push and for a second Hope feared that she wouldn’t be able to cross the threshold because of her vampire nature. It was a ridiculous thought, if the house was in the name of anyone in her family that was a vampire it meant that she could cross without permission and if it wasn’t that meant it was the property of the city and she could enter then as well. 

The first thing she notices is the very thick musty scent of the house, the next is the extreme size, her home in New Orleans was a large house but this mansion was triple its size. There was a grand staircase and a door that led to what Hope could only assume was a ballroom, pushed into a corner was a large table covered with a large sheet. Seizing the opportunity, Hope pulled the sheet away, grinning at the dramatics of it as it fluttered and fell to the ground, then she pulled it around her shoulders so it covered her body from the nonexistent eyes.

Now that she was actually in the house she had no idea what she needed to be looking for, it was strange walking around this large empty house that held her history, she should probably be feeling something right now, but instead she felt numb. That pulling sensation from earlier was still there, in fact it was stronger now than it was before.

Against her better judgement she decided to let it lead her up the stairs, the dusty white sheet dragging behind her like a cloak. She tried to soak in everything around her, some of the paintings had been left behind and were still hanging on the walls. Her dad had put those there, most likely, he was the only member of her family before her that cared about art and he had had this house built so he most likely picked what art that would go on the wall. 

She continued walking down the upstairs hallways, wandering aimlessly and peering into empty rooms until she came upon a room that was overflowing with stuff. 

The walls were lined with books of every size shape and color, some were elegant and extravagant while others were falling apart at the seams, there was even a small section of scrolls tucked away into a top corner hiding in the shadows. Boxes filled with god knows what littered the room, so many that as she tried to make her way around them her sheet kept getting caught on the corners. This room felt right, she’s not sure why, there was no reason that she should believe that whatever answers she was looking for would be in this room, but it really felt like this was where she needed to be. 

A sudden movement broke the stillness that had surrounded her as a small bird took off from a shadow and flew straight out the door she just entered. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she jumped to the side. She pulled the sheet closer around her as she recognized the bird that just nearly gave her a heart attack, it was a Starling. 

Her grandmother’s chosen bird and known spies. 

Esther was here, Hope didn’t know where and she didn’t know how but she knew she was here. Esther was the strange force pulling her here, even though it had been a part of her plan to come here all along, her grandmother wanted her here for some reason. Whatever plans Hope had she was sure that Esther had some of her own. How was she going to contact her was her main issue, because no matter the presence she had here she was still dead. 

Ghosts were not a new concept to Hope but that didn’t mean that she enjoyed them. She’d encountered many ghosts throughout her young life and they were almost always hostile to her, but now she was capable of taking care of herself. If her grandmother was looking for a fight she would find one, but something about this didn’t feel threatening to her. That’s not to say that she was comfortable, she definitely was not. She was wearing next to nothing in an old abandoned mansion where she was probably going to meet and communicate with the ghost of her dead grandmother, uneasy didn’t quite cover what she was feeling. 

Hope sucked in the musty air through her nose trying to calm her nerves. She started looking through the boxes, examining the books and trinkets that filled the room. As she was doing so, however, she noticed a strange breeze and smell that began to fill the room. The wind caused goosebumps to erupt across her skin as she tried to place the familiar smell. 

It was earthy with a sharpness to it… almost burnt? That was it, burnt. Incense. But there was no incense burning in the room, or anywhere else in the house that she had been. The thick smell started to overwhelm her, her senses were muddled and Hope suddenly found it very hard to focus or to keep her eyes open. The book she was holding slipped and hit the ground with a bang. 

There was a heaviness to her body that was pulling her slowly to the ground. In the back of her mind she realized that something was wrong, this shouldn’t be happening. But before she could do anything about it her grip went slack on the sheet and she fell to the ground.  

This was not the kind of sleep that Hope was accustomed to. She felt like she was floating and falling in the darkness all at the same time. She waited for the nightmare she had become so used to over the last few months to take hold but strangely it never did. Instead when she finally pried her eyes open it was like she was completely awake but in a different place. Things were sharp and clear unlike every other dream Hope had.

 It was the same forest. Tall dark trees, the onslaught of birds, and the powerful bonfire. But for the first time Hope was in control of the dream. She waited for the birds to swarm like they normally do and for Esther to appear, but they never did. Instead she just seemed to pop into existence by the fire across the clearing from her. Hope took a moment just to watch her, examine her, it was strange that Hope could see herself in this woman that had had a very little part of her life. Esther was the only other member of her family that had the same red hair as Hope, the same blue eyes that she recognized as her father’s and her own. It was the only proof she had that this woman was related to her at all, considering the way her grandmother had treated her as a child. 

She forced her feet to bring her closer. The heat of the fire was pushing her away but she fought against it. “Hello child,” Esther said and the sound of her voice startled Hope. Throughout this entire thing she had never actually heard her grandmother speak, the smoothness of her unplaceable accent was shocking. 

“Hello,” Hope countered, “ You’ve been wanting to speak to me,” with what little plan she had Hope didn’t actually know how to speak to this woman. Yes she was her granddaughter, but they did not know each other and Hope was not here to rekindle a familial relationship. 

“Yes, but you have not been making it easy for me.” 

Hope raised an eyebrow,” I wasn’t aware that I was doing anything,”  everything blurred for a moment before sharpening again. It became clear to Hope that her metabolism was too fast for whatever Esther had drugged her with to hold her under for much longer. Words piled up, ready to spill from her lips but she restrained herself and managed to keep her composure. 

“When you realized that I was trying to contact you I assumed you would have tried harder to talk to me,” Hope couldn’t get a good read on her grandmother. She was used to the strange way her family interacted and behaved but there was something different about Esther. 

Hope absentmindedly racked her fingers through her hair,” What do you want from me?” she asked purposefully not reacting to the jab. Maybe if she could gage what Esther wanted from her she could figure out how to use it to her advantage. 

Esther turned so she was fully faceing her now. Power radiated from her, but Hope radiated it right back. “ I imagine it is the same reason you came here tonight Hope,” she gave a pointed look that put her on edge and paused just long enough for Hope’s skin to crawl,” The gemini twins.” 

The dreamscape swirled dangerously and Hope didn’t know if it was caused by her or Esther but she had to think it was her. Whatever control she’d held onto was dissipating fast and was accelerated by the mention of her girlfriend. What did Esther know about Josie? What could she want with Josie? Or Lizzie for that matter? Hope started to fight against her body to stay asleep.

“Relax child I only wish to help,” Esther said, noticing their fraying reality. 

“Why would you want to help them,” Hope shot back. Every paranoid bone in her body was singing and screaming simultaneously. She fought against the noise. 

“I want to help them because they are important to you,” she said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. But it didn’t make any sense to Hope, Esther never cared for her, she had been a pawn to be given away or killed whenever necessary.  Nothing in her past could allow her to believe that her grandmother could be doing something simply for Hope’s sake. 

“You expect me to believe that you went through all the work to get here and contact me and you want nothing in return,” sarcasm dripped from her words, it was very clear that she was not buying this,” and how are you even here anyway?” 

Esther did a much better job of controlling her emotions than Hope did, she answered all of the questions that were being thrown at her with patience and ease. “You’ve lived here a long time Hope,” She started,” and I’ve been here the entire time watching you grow up.” A tingle ran up her spine at the thought of Esther watching her her entire life. It was creepy but she decided to see where she was going with this, “ watching you grow has made me happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time, it’s given me hope that our family could be something more than monsters again.” 

That’s all they were to Esther, monsters of her own creation, the creatures that went bump in the night. She fixated on that word. It had been following her around her entire life, making it stick out to her in most situations. 

Monster. Abomination. Miracle. 

She forced all these thoughts to the back of her mind  where they normally lived,” What does that have to do with the twins?” she ground out, clenching her teeth so tight that it pained her. The fire flickered out of existence next to them, leaving the dreamscape darkened and melting away around her. 

“Josie makes you happy.” she stated. Hope didn’t like hearing her girlfriend's name on Esther’s lips. She’d come here with the intention of getting Esther to help her with the twins’ situation but she hated that she was one step ahead of her even now. “Sense she makes you happy I want to help you,” until then Hope had kept her face neutral but she squinted at that comment, “because believe me when I say that without my help there will be no saving them.” 

In that moment Hope would have given anything to stay asleep and continue this conversation. She would give anything to save Josie, and if Esther believed that she could do that then Hope sure as hell wanted to listen to her. Hope might not trust her grandmother but there was no doubt that she was a powerful and competent witch with over a thousand years of experience on her, she knew what she was talking about when it came to magic. 

The dream dropped away almost as suddenly as it had appeared and Hope found herself once again sitting on the floor of the library in the mansion. She stood and pulled the sheet back around her. On the floor next to her was a large leather bound book with browning pages. It hadn’t been there before she fell asleep, could it have fallen from a shelf? Flipping the cover open, she recognized it as a grimoire, one of her grandmother’s grimoires. The breeze that she had become so familiar with came back and leafed through the pages like it had a mind of its own. When it settled the pages landed on a spell that Hope was unfamiliar with. It was strange and ancient, but she had no doubt that Esther wanted her to find it. She was exhausted that night to examine the spell then, so she ripped the pages out to be brought back to the school with her.  

She was unsure of how much time had passed but her body ached in a way she was unfamiliar with as she dragged herself back to the school. The moon was considerably lower than when she left on her run earlier that night, even the stars seemed dimmer. Whatever she had been drugged with had taken a toll on her system and her body felt like it was being pulled in a million different directions. Her bones ached and trembled as she shifted for the run back to the school. 

The school was peacefully quiet and still when she returned. Hope couldn’t handle any more excitement or stress tonight. Thoughts of Josie swirled through her mind. Her girlfriend was clearly distressed earlier that evening when they were together, she hadn’t ended things between them, but they were definitely in an uncertain place. 

Maybe this could be the answer the Saltzmans had been searching for for nearly seventeen years. 

She’d done all that she could for tonight, however, all that was left was to sleep. She’d managed her way to her room, nearly unconscious on her feet as she crawled into bed, praying for a dreamless sleep. 

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 2: Rudyard

Following a shocking bit of news, Rudyard makes a rendezvous with his old leader.

❃❃❃

Sardion had ended the call with a request; that Rudyard come immediately to the Second Precinct, where he was with the detective leading the investigation.

As Rudyard ran, he felt intense guilt seep into his thoughts. Two of his old teammates were dead and he wasn’t there to save them. He was a Huntsman— to him, it should have been his duty to save them. How could this happen? He kept mentally repeating over and over on the way.

Almost too soon enough, he was leaning outside of the detective’s office, bent over in exhaustion with one hand propping him against the door. Through the window, Sardion had already been speaking to the detective when they saw Rudyard doubled over outside. The detective, a dark-skinned woman who he failed to recognize, hurried outside to help him up.

“Sir Millard, are you alright? Let’s get you up.” she motioned for Sardion to help her with Rudyard.

“Wha— what happened? How—? They can’t be gone. Please tell me this is just a bad joke, Sardion.” Rudyard held on to Sardion’s arm, his voice wavering with a mixture of exertion and emotion as he tried to catch his breath.

Sardion couldn’t bear to look Rudyard in the eye. He was silently struggling to maintain his own composure. Yaara and Berilo had not only been his friends, but his family. The moment they had become a team, all those years ago, had made them feel inseparable. Now, that  very same moment felt like a cruel trick decades in the making.

“Damn it, you two, just tell me—! I need to know what happened!” Rudyard snapped, having managed to finally catch his breath.

The detective glanced over at the Huntsman, who had sunken down onto a small couch by the wall. “I know you must be devastated by this news, Sir Millard, but unfortunately, a lot of this case isn’t clear yet.” She sat down on her office chair and grabbed a file from her desk.

Rudyard spared a glance up at her desk— near its front was a nameplate, on which Det. Agave Yuen, Royal Mistral Police was embossed in brass. He quietly took note of this, as it meant he didn’t have to keep mentally referring to her as “the detective” any longer.

Detective Yuen cleared her throat, before beginning to speak to the two Huntsmen. “Yaara Dailan and Berilo Gaspar were found dead this morning in their respective homes. Both of the deaths appear to have occurred within 24 hours, according to medical scans of their core body temperatures. In Miss Dailan’s body, there was a single gaping wound, which we suspect to be from a sword. On the other hand, Mister Gaspar received several smaller wounds of a similar nature, two of which severed arteries. In Miss Dailan’s case, there were signs of a struggle.” She paused, pursing her lips momentarily before continuing.. “We’ve got the when and where, but the who, why, and how of this case is still unclear. As of now, the forensics team hasn’t yet confirmed if they were in fact murdered or not, and there’s also—”

“Of COURSE they were murdered!” Rudyard shouted suddenly, rising to his feet. “How can you possibly be unsure of that?! Those two could kill droves of Grimm by themselves — to say nothing of when we were a team — and they’re not the kind of people someone could get the drop on! Whoever did this was clearly prepared for—!”

“Rudd, please. Calm down. Let Detective Yuen do her work.” said Sardion.

Rudyard wheeled around to face Sardion. “How can you stay calm, knowing two of our teammates are dead and we weren’t there for them?!” he retaliated.

Sardion flinched slightly at the indirect accusation, before letting out a deep, pained sigh. “Believe me, Rudd, I’m hurting as much as you are. The news wasn’t at all easy for me either, but you of all people should know that situations like this shouldn’t be met with an attitude like that.” Sardion did his best to maintain a civil attitude as he spoke, holding his palms out in a gesture of placation.

The resulting silence was deafening. Both Rudyard and Sardion were having trouble connecting the dots that led them to this moment — it all seemed too sudden, too soon. One second, they had been fresh graduates of Haven taking on their first real mission together, and the next they were mourning the deaths of half their team.

Agave, however, was stuck in between a rock and a hard place. If she continued, she felt like she’d upset Rudyard even more. But if she remained silent, Sardion would feel like their time was being wasted.

When she was approached by the Mistral Police about the deaths of Yaara and Berilo, the detective knew that she wasn’t dealing with a regular case. She was handling that of people from SYBR, the top team of the Haven graduating class of 58 AV. They had been the champions of the 28th Vytal Festival.

At any rate, she had to be prepared for anything in this case.

The silence was broken by Sardion speaking up. “Please continue, Detective Yuen.”

“Are you sure? If it’s too distressing for Sir Millard, he can catch up with the investigation on a later date.” Yuen replied, subtly gesturing with a hand towards Rudyard.

Sardion shook his head. “The longer we sit here grieving, the longer whoever did this is still roaming the streets. We don’t know who they might come for next, or if we’re already being targeted.” He glanced over at Rudyard. “You calmed down?”

“Mmm.” Rudyard responded with an ambiguous murmur, taking a deep breath.

Yuen nodded as she returned to the topic of the investigation. “Well, as I was saying right now, the majority of the case is still left unanswered. That’s why we asked you to come here. You two were the ones who knew the victims best. You could help them—” 

“Too late for that. We weren’t there to help them then, and I don’t see what good it’ll do now.” Rudyard quietly muttered.

Yuen coughed awkwardly at Rudyard’s interruption. “…Be that as it may, I plan on getting to the bottom of this, so if not for them, at least help me out.” She turned to her computer momentarily, typing in a command for a new document before turning back to Sardion and Rudyard “I’m going to ask you some questions that might guide us toward the right path to take. Shall we start?”

“Go ahead, detective.” Sardion motioned to Yuen, as she began typing into the document with one hand.

“Where were both of you yesterday evening, and did you have any contact with Yaara Dailan or Berilo Gaspar during that period of time?”

Rudyard looked up, a slightly appalled expression on his face “...You can’t be implying we had something to do with—” He stopped as Sardion rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, Rudd. It’s just the regular police line of questioning, we’re not being interrogated.” He turned back towards Yuen before responding. “I was at home with Asagi, myself. We called it an early night.”

Yuen typed into the computer for a moment. “Asagi… as in Asagi Sarikaya, your daughter?”

“That’s right.” Sardion answered.

Yuen typed a bit more. “And the home… you live in the Saku District, House 217, is that correct?”

“Correct.”

“Right, then.” Yuen clicked her mouse twice. “And you, Sir Millard?”

Rudyard let out a sigh before looking up to face Yuen. “I was heading home from… from the Gardens of Remembrance, over in the Yoake District.”

Sardion’s eyes widened slightly, and he inhaled sharply. Now it was no wonder Rudyard had been taking this so hard— this tragedy was following right on the heels of the anniversary of another one. 

Noticing Sardion’s response, Yuen raised an eyebrow as she turned to her computer screen and typed again, pulling up Rudyard’s personal record.

A pause.

“…Ah. Yes, I see. I’m very sorry about that.” Yuen said, wincing to herself as she looked over Rudyard’s file.

The red-clad Huntsman shrugged. “I considered hitting up the Blackbird, that bar a few blocks down from my house, but I figured that could wait until this evening.” Rudyard continued. “Then I got the call, and… well, here we are now.”

Agave nodded, and kept on typing on her computer. Half a minute later, she faced Rudyard and Sardion again and proceeded to continue the line of questioning. “Do you know anyone who might have done this to them? Anyone who might have a motive?”

“Everyone they’ve met, they treated well. They were professionals, but always friendly to others. I don’t know anyone who could be so angry at those two to the point of murder.” Sardion answered.

“No old enemies, looking to settle scores? No connections that might have considered them ‘loose ends’?”

Sardion shook his head, but Rudyard paused for a moment. He knew that Yaara and Berilo had been embroiled in some secretive missions, and there was always the off chance that the murders could have been a cleanup job.

After a moment spent contemplating, he responded, “…Not that I was ever aware of, no.”

❃❃❃

After an hour of questioning the two Huntsmen, Detective Yuen was finally satisfied with the report she had on file. “Thank you, gentlemen. That’s all I need to know for now.” she said, snapping the lid of her computer shut. The three stood up from where they were sitting. As Rudyard and Sardion were about to head out the door, Yuen stopped them. “I know this may be asking a lot, especially considering that it’s already been one bad day, but do you mind helping us catch whoever did this in other ways?”

“Absolutely.” Rudyard said without hesitation.

“Same h— wait, what do you mean by ‘other ways’?” Sardion asked.

Yuen exhaled heavily through her nostrils before responding. “Despite the prep for the Festival, we’re not short of the police force overall, and I also have my subordinates doing some groundwork. However, I think a little more help wouldn’t hurt. For one thing, you two knew the victims better than anyone, and your input and added skills as Huntsmen should be a boon.” she explained.

Sardion looked at Rudyard. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Rudyard?” he inquired.

Rudyard nodded. “Yes. Anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

“And what about you, Sir Sarikaya?” Agave inquired. “It’s on your record that you have a daughter at home, so if you’re concerned for your own safety…”

Sardion took a moment to consider his response. He had chosen to lie low of his Huntsman duties since his daughter Asagi had been born, in favor of raising her.  Ever since then, all he could think about was spending time with her— her mother had passed on when Asagi was very young, and he had made plenty of money from missions before her birth to retire from missions. Being the champion of the 28th Vytal Festival hadn’t hurt his socioeconomic prospects, either, and his domestic life had been a comfortable one.

But now, things were different. Asagi was already sixteen and preparing to apply as a Huntress herself— she wouldn’t be at home for much longer. And despite the decline of his skills with age, he’d kept up his training well enough to handle himself in a fight should one come along.

It was time to get back to his duties as a leader once again, and avenge his comrades.

“Of course. I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, knowing that their killers are still on the loose.” he answered firmly.

[wilsonsnest]

Title: a sense of properity Word Count: 1,915 Square Filled: Royalty AU Warnings: None Rating: PG Summary: Captain Steve Rogers had been so enamored with Captain Samuel Wilson he hadn’t even considered why the Prince never showed his face.

Steve stared at Captain - no Prince Wilson, the man he had started becoming besotted with during their journey. He was exhausted, his hands still trembling with the adrenaline of having just taken out the assassins who had been out for the Prince’s life, but he couldn’t sit down. He wasn’t even sure what to think in this moment.

Just a week ago he had traveled up to the Kingdom of Har-Lem to provide escort for the Prince to attend a treaty resigning at the behest of Prince Stark. There had been a rash of robberies and even killings on the main roads. Common folk, nobles and even knights were not off limits to the rogues. When there had been rumors of an attempt on the middle Wilson child’s life, Steve and his company had been sent just in case.

He hadn’t expected to make such a good friend in Captain Samuel Wilson. A young, handsome man who held an air of nobility that Steve had just thought was part of his gracious nature. The rest of men in Sam’s troupe respected him, but there was a warmth between them that told of just how much he loved them and they loved him. Because they were both Captains, Steve naturally fell in line with him during most of the journey. Discussing the rumors, training and the particularities of being Captain. Steve had grown fond of Sam, perhaps too fond for such a short journey, but Sam was simply magnetic. He could now see that he was so preoccupied with getting to know Sam that he hadn’t even bothered to question why the Prince was never seen outside of his carriage.

Steve felt foolish, and a little heartbroken. He had hoped that once they reached Midtown and the Prince was safely behind castle walls he and Sam would have more time to get to know each other personally. Alone. Now, he saw that it was an impossibility.

Steve nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his arm and he turned to look at his Lieutenant, Natasha. The woman looked a little ruffled. Her tabbard was slightly askew and her normally well-groomed hair was sticking up from where she had taken off her helmet. There was sympathy in her eyes, perceptive to Steve’s plight. She had been more than a little amused every time he came back late to their tent after spending long hours speaking with Sam before bed.

“Come on, Captain.” Natasha said kindly. “Let’s get cleaned up. I think we’re staying the night and we’ll head out in the morning.”

Steve nodded and followed her back to their encampment, shifting his focus to making sure his men were alright.

x x x x

Steve was surprised that night when he saw a shadow lingering outside of his tent. It was yet early, but Natasha had put together their watch and insisted that Steve get some rest. He knew that if it were his Lieutenant she would not have hesitated to come in of her own accord, which meant it was someone else.

In just a loose shirt and pants he ducked out of his tent, surprised to come face to face with Sam - the Prince. It took Steve a moment before he regained his composure and bowed low, unsure of how to act now in his presence. When he looked up, he realized he couldn’t read Sam’s expression in the glowing up the firelight nearby. But if he could tell anything by his body language he would say the the Prince seemed nervous.

“You don’t have to do that.” Sam spoke up suddenly, a sigh laden in his voice. “I’m not even your prince.”

Something about that statement stung and Steve looked down at the Prince’s boots, unwillingly to even try and meet his eye. He had never felt this sense of propriety around Prince Stark, and felt quite comfortable in most noble and royal presence. But this was different. This was a man whom he had spent the week with, who he had decided the night before he wanted to court.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hide this from you.” Sam sounded sincere and a little desperate. “It seemed like it would be a fool-proof plan. The assassins wouldn’t have known the difference if I just blended in with the rest of the guard.”

Steve nodded, the assassins hadn’t known what Sam looked like. They had just gone straight for the carriage, and their folly made it easy for them to be apprehended. Neither Steve nor his troupe had even known Sam was the Prince until his Lieutenant, Riley, had called out for people to get to Sam. Afterwards there was was a whirlwind of activity as people attempted to make sure that the Prince was unharmed.

“You could have been killed.” Steve said quite suddenly, looking up. He remembered looking over, Sam astride his chestnut colored mare, two enemies on either side. “Who is your Captain that he would even allow such a rouse?”

Sam snorted, and folded his arms across his chest. “Trust me, it took quite the time to convince Riley to play along. But he trusted me enough to agree to it.”

Steve nodded, thinking of the blonde man who was a near constant at Sam’s side. He was generally laid back, and kind and Steve had thought he made a good counterbalance to Sam’s seriousness. Now he realized how that relationship had worked to their advantage in creating this plan. It stung a little to know he had been duped, but he was also impressed.

“Steve,” Sam then looked a little unsure. “Captain Rogers, I-- I greatly apologize for keeping this from you. I had wanted to tell you, but...”

Steve tilted his head a little, fascinated by how shy the other man suddenly seemed.

“I had come to greatly enjoy your company. I enjoyed our time riding side by side, speaking of our friends and family. Our nights together by the firelight were some of the best times I’ve ever had. You treated me like just another knight, an equal. It was selfish, I know this, but...” Sam couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes. “I could pretend for just one moment that I was just like everyone else.”

“Your highness--”

Sam sighed, a sad sound that gave Steve pause. His instinct told to him to reach out, take the other man’s hand in his for comfort. Any other night before now he would have done it. But now it would be completely inappropriate for him to be so familiar.

“Right. I won’t take up more of your time.” Sam said, casting his gaze toward the fire. “I just wanted to apologize. And thank you for your service, Captain.”

Before Steve could say anything else, the Prince turned and hurried back to his side of camp, leaving Steve feeling cold and confused.

x x x x

“Commander Rhodes and Prince Wilson look awfully comfortable.”

Steve looked up to see his oldest friend, coming toward him holding a goblet of fine in one hand. Bucky looked good in black and silver colors of the Wakandan security forces. He was still styled in a tabbard, but the wolf crest signifying his noble birth house was now intertwined with two Amaryllis plants of his adopted home.

“I’m sure they have important things to speak of.” Steve murmured, as he cast a glance across the busy room to see the Commander and Prince leaning into each other’s space as they had been for quite some time. Not that Steve had been watching. “Commander Rhodes will want to know of the situation we encountered out on the road.”

“Ah, no doubt telling of your heroics.” Bucky laughed a little, probably already a little loose from the wine. “They’d make a fine coupling though.”

Steve felt the back of his neck burning beneath his collar. He had no right to be upset about that, because it wasn’t as if it weren’t true. Commander Rhodes was Prince Stark’s closest confidant, a brilliant strategist and a good man. The fact that he had yet to be married did not go unremarked upon. A middle Prince of the neighboring kingdom could be a good show of friendship between the two kingdoms.

“Steve, we all know Rhodes is far too devoted to Prince Stark to put another before him.” Bucky said levelly, eyeing him over his goblet. “You ought to go over and ask for his time. Take him out to the gardens.”

Steve shook his head vehemently. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Steve. You’re the Captain of the Guard. And you know as well as I that Prince Stark would promote you to Commander if you had any desire for it.” Bucky said. “You have land, land that you earned and if what you told me about him is true he would be more impressed by that than if it were just your birthright.”

He put a hand on his friend’s arm, warm and solid. Steve looked up at him, trying not to let the hope shine in his eyes as  Bucky continued.

“Take it from me.” His eyes slid over to where Prince T’Challa and two of his personal guards were standing watch. “People appreciate it when you're honest. You say his men adore him, and respect him. That he fought off the bandits just as you did. He isn’t some wilting flower, Steve, allow him the dignity of choice.”

Steve swallowed thickly just as he watched Rhodes and the Prince lean in and laugh together over something. It burned in his gut to think that he might be missing an opportunity because he didn’t think he was worthy of the Prince’s time. He wasn’t just a knight, he was a Captain and landed gentry at that. He had worked hard to get to his station in life and he would work harder to make the Prince as happy as he could. He had to at least be brave enough to try.

“Sir Barnes.” Steve said with a sharp nod toward Bucky, causing his friend to nearly drop his drink before he laughed, unable to control himself.

He found himself making his way across the room, ignoring an eyes tracking his movements before stopping before the Commander and the Prince. Rhodes looked over at him and looked vaguely amused, eyes flickering over toward Sam. Sam though was looking back at Steve, eyes just slightly widened but otherwise the picture of perfect royal neutrality.

“Commander Rhodes, if you could spare me some of Prince Samuel’s time.” Steve chose his words carefully so that they could not be mistaken for anything but a man asking for a moment with a potential partner. It already prickled at his nerves that he wasn’t asking Sam directly, but he wanted to do things right.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Rhodes nodded to Steve before bowing low to the Prince and walking off.

“You could have asked me.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow delicately. The question layered under his statement.

Steve only smiled gently. “Not with him here.”  He offered his arm, well aware that there were probably those watching their every move. “Prince Samuel Wilson, would you join me for a tour of the gardens?”

Sam studied him, his eyes narrowing just slightly as if he were searching for something  in Steve’s face. Finally he nodded and took the offered arm, leaning into Steve’s warmth. “Lead the way, Captain.”

[saventhhaven]

You Bring Out the Worst in Me

Pairing: demon!Dean x demon!reader

Tags: demon!Dean, demon!reader, sexual innuendos, suuuuuper dark and sexy

Word Count: 1,800 O_o (I didn’t think it was that long lmao)

A/N: This was a request from anonymous! 

Hi there! I really love your fics. Could you do a Dean x secret demon! Reader. Sorta based off the song How You Remind Me by Nickelback? Thanks!

This one was honestly so much fun to write. The dark vibe is unlike anything I’ve written before, so you’ll have to tell me what you thought! Thanks for requesting!

(Gif not mine)

Being a demon didn't come with many difficulties. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Your lifestyle was one you were sure others envied. After all, it was literally your job to give in to temptation and wreak havoc on the world whenever possible. You could do practically whatever you wanted - granted that you didn't interfere with Crowley's plans, which you never had. As a result, you had become one of his most trusted and loyal servants over the years. If Crowley needed something done, you were his go-to. You specialized in dirty work. But several years ago now, he had tasked you with your most significant assignment yet. With his off and on alliance with the Winchesters, it was important that he always knew what they were planning.

"The best way for us to do that," Crowley had told you, "is for me to send one of my most committed to be in their presence at all times. Someone to live with them. Befriend them. Gain their trust." The drumming of his fingers on the throne came to a stop as he turned his gaze on you. "I mean you, my dear Y/N." You bowed your head in a sign of both respect and submission.

"Of course, my King. I am honored to have been chosen for this task." Crowley gave you a small, genuine smile, something exceedingly rare.

"There is no one in all of Hell that I trust more than you, Y/N."

"Nor I, you, Sire. I would do anything you asked of me." Crowley nodded as he stood, walking to pour himself a drink.

"I'm aware," he said over his shoulder. "Which is why I wouldn't want anyone else to do this for me."

"For how long do you require me to report back my findings?" you questioned.

"Keeping you among the Winchesters could prove to be a most valuable asset. You will remain there for as long as necessary." Clasping your hands behind you, you pushed your shoulders back in determination.

"Then, I will become their most trusted confidant for as long as you see fit. If they so much as breathe in a manner of suspicion, you will know within a second." Crowley put his glass down, the sound echoing throughout the otherwise empty throne room.

"You've been a most loyal servant, Y/N."

"Thank you, my King." He fell silent, examining you for a moment before turning away.

"If you should fail on your endeavor, you won't be coming back." You frowned again, not attempting to hide it this time. He had never spoken of failure with you before.

"Sire?"

"The Winchesters will not take kindly to being spied on or lied to by one of our kind. If discovered, I doubt you will make it out alive." You regained your composure, a newfound resolve resetting your face into a blank slate.

"I will not fail you."

"Then you may take your leave," Crowley instructed. "You've much to prepare for if you're to play the part of a human hunter convincingly."

Since that day, any news or information you had to offer went through a messenger demon. It was too risky to speak to Crowley in person now. Anything that could raise even the slightest bit of suspicion had to be avoided. The boys had been betrayed more than once before, you knew that. As a result, gaining their trust had proven to be exceedingly difficult, although, you had been expecting that. After several weeks of helping them on cases, though, you were in. They began opening up to you, treating you as one of their own, until finally, they offered you a room back at their bunker. The whole process had been tiring, no doubt, and after befriending you, it had still taken a few months for them to suggest that you stay with them, but you knew the wait was worth it. The future results were going to be fruitful. Even on a near-impossible assignment, you still had yet to fail your King. He had asked you to gain their trust, and that was exactly what you had done. Especially Dean's. What you had with him was incredibly complicated, and you knew a relationship with a hunter was frowned upon by your brothers and sisters, but it had been a much easier path to get him to open up. The poor man had some serious feelings for you, and you supposed in your own sort of twisted way, you reciprocated those feelings. Although, you knew you were probably feeling things that weren't real. You were just biased because of all the sex. Dean's feelings, however, couldn't be faked if he tried. You had your suspicions that he may have even been in love with you. And that made him vulnerable; a vulnerability that you had every intention of using towards your advantage. You knew from the start that Dean would be much less likely to believe your fictional backstory and place his trust in you than his younger brother. But this? This made it easy. You had spent many hours fabricating your sad tale of why you became a hunter and even longer solidifying the details to make it all seem real. In short, your father and older brother had been killed by a malevolent spirit. Your mother had gone on a grief-driven rampage and practically gone crazy in the process of searching for ways to kill the thing. Eventually, she lost her last shred of sanity, and the same spirit killed her too. But in the seven years before her death, your mother had raised you like a hunter. By the age of ten, you knew how to fire a shotgun and perform a full exorcism. In Hell, you had heard the name John Winchester many times. He had been notorious for seeking out the demon Azazel that killed his wife. With that kind of grief to haunt him, you could only imagine how he must have raised the boys, which is why the part of your story how you were raised as a hunter seemed to be the perfect touch to fully get the boys' sympathy. That story was your masterpiece - a lie better than any you had ever told before. And the Winchesters fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

After Dean's transformation into a demon, Sam began to lean on you for support more than ever. You knew how badly he was hurting. He was willing to do just about anything to get his brother back, and that made it especially dangerous. For him. When Sam had finally captured his older brother and brought him back to the bunker, you couldn't help but look on in awe. Dean radiated dark power in a way that damn-near overwhelmed you. His anger and grief fueled the dark flames that burned away what was left of his conscience. This was a totally new and improved Dean. His morals and good-naturedness were holding him back before, but now with those gone, he was stronger (and in your opinion) even sexier than before.

Now, here you were alone in the bunker with him. Sam had gone to a nearby hospital to get blood for a cure that would turn Dean human again. You weren't going to let that happen. Now that you had your very own Dean Winchester in Demon form, there was no way you were letting him go. As you approached Dean in the bunker's dungeon, you felt his eyes land curiously on you.

"You just can't stay away, can you?" His bright green eyes melted to black, and you couldn't help but smirk. After all this time, he still had no idea what you really were. Stalking around the devil's trap, you eyed the man hungrily. This was where things got complicated. How were you supposed to get him out without getting stuck in the trap yourself? "You know nothing I ever felt for you was real, right?" he jeered. "It was all an act because I felt sorry for you." You snorted.

"Keep talking, Dean," you replied. "Your words have no meaning to me." He raised an eyebrow at you.

"You really think I can't get under your skin?" he asked. "We've been together for three years, Y/N. I know things about you that you don't even know yourself." You had to bite back a laugh as he continued to ramble on. "Sam and I wouldn't have offered to take you in in the first place if you hadn't been so damn pitiful. You can't take care of yourself, you're not a good hunter. I mean, seriously, is there anything you can do?" You took a few steps back and pulled the gun the boys had given you from your waistband, clicking a bullet into place.

"Trust me." You aimed the weapon. "You don't know the half of it." The sound of the gun firing echoed throughout the room for a few short moments before everything went quiet again. Dean stared at you from his chair where he was bound, surprised that he hadn't been your target. You tossed the gun aside, bobbing your head at where you had shot. Dean followed your gaze to the floor, where the slightest notch from your bullet had broken the outer ring of the devil's trap. Disbelief flashed in his eyes for a millisecond before he ripped free of his bonds, slamming you roughly into the wall nearest to him.

"Wrong move," he snarled as he glowered at you. You laughed, earning a confused look from him.

"Really, Dean?" you said. "You still haven't figured it out? Even now? Can't you feel it?" For the first time since meeting him, you flashed him your true eyes. "I'm on your team. Well, I guess you're on mine now, actually." Dean's frown almost instantly turned into a heated smirk.

"How long?" he inquired.

"Since before we even met." He gave you a crooked grin, eyes still black.

"You Crowley's pet?" It was a good question. Since Dean had gone demon, you hadn't heard from your King at all. Perhaps he had forgotten about you altogether. You leaned forward and pulled on Dean's bottom lip with your teeth.

"Maybe," you answered coyly. "But I might be in the market for a new master if you're offering." Dean growled, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, and digging his fingers into your hips with the other. The sound of a door shutting above your heads stopped all movement.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice called. A wicked grin spread across your face.

"Sammy's home," you cooed. Dean released your wrists.

"We'll finish this later," he assured, black eyes gleaming as he sauntered towards the door. "Sammy," he called tauntingly.

This was going to be fun.

Thank you so much for reading, guys! If you liked it, please give me feedback! I love hearing from you!

As always, links to my masterlist, inbox, and taglist are in the bio! <3

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

Freedom is a state of mind

Vikings Fan Fiction

Chapter 9 (Chapter 8 here)

*I do not own any part of the Canon Vikings characters. It is simply my interpretation. I make no profit off of this.

**I do own the original characters and everything associated with them.

Tagging for updates: @whenimaunicorn , @captstefanbrandt , @kenzieam , @mblaqgi , @wish-i-was-a-mermaid , @microsmacrosandneedles , @babeyouareenough , @youbloodymadgenius , @yourpurplequeen

A few weeks past and a new line of slaves were being hauled off one of Kattegat's many ships and Declan caught sight of a man from his life back home. A friend of his father’s to be exact. He rushed over, the possibility of news of his family fueled his speed.

“Addis, what are you doing here?!" he asked excitedly once he’d caught up to him.

The slaves were let loose and he rubbed his wrists as they spoke.

"Declan! My boy!" the man said happily before ulling him into a hug. It was good to see a familiar face."I was taken during a raid. Many months ago," he answered.

"And my family?"

"Alive and well," he added with a small smile. Addis glanced around and leaned forward, excitement in his eyes. "Word has spread of King Conchobar's victory against the Northmen. They are too scared to try again," he chuckled, motioning at some of the Northerners as they walled by He leaned closer, his voice now high enough for only the two of them to hear. "And I hear rumors the missing Princess has ended up here. In Kattegat," he whispered excitedly.

Declan's heart began to race. "Is the King searching for her?"

"Aye. Now that there is no threat to his lands Prince Arlen has finally convinced him to seek her out. And I can guarantee he will pay a handsome reward for her savior."

"Well, if I see her, I can assure you she will chose the offered safety from a young man instead of an old horse like yourself," he said with a teasing squeeze to his shoulder. "Settle in my friend. Life here is very different from our home."

He left Addis to find his bed and headed to find the Ehrlana. She needed to know of her father's success and his concern over her well-being from him first.

-------

Meanwhile, Ivar had Ehrlana scrubbing dirt and blood from his trousers. She imagined how painful it must be at times to travel the way he was forced to. How deep the cuts must have been at times. She imagined how humiliating it would be to constantly have to ask for help. It became clear very early on why the people of Kattegat looked at him with a mix of pity and fear. And why he was always on the edge of rage.

But she also understood his anger. She understood what it was like to have people look at you with pity. To have them whisper behind you as you pass, spreading rumors over every piece of your existence. She understood how lonely being the child of a King truly was. Especially when you were treated differently than the rest.

She dried her hands as best she could and headed off for the daily resupply. The items more or less the same as the day before. And the day before that. Ivar never asked for more than he needed that day. Ehrlana always requested extra of the things that never changed. Her strategy had given her ample time to do as she pleased. Which honestly wasn’t ever much more than finding a waterfall warmed by the sun to swim in.

Today was largely the same. She went by the various stalls, feigning interest in comparing wares before sending them off to the great hall. But this time she added a few things for herself. Nothing worth much, but everything necessary.

Declan hesitated when he caught sight of her. Once she found out her father was alive and searching for her he felt like she would have no further need for him. That, even though they had become friendly, he would be discarded and left behind when she finally went home. He was having a hard time deciding if he should accept such a fate.

He decided hearing the news from him was better than from Addis, a stranger, and he forced his feet to continue their journey.

“What is all this for?” he asked sifting through her basket, still attempting to avoid the inevitable.

“Ivar.”

“Ivar? Why?” he asked following her as she headed to the next stall.

“For his legs,” she explained further.

"Ivar is a monster. He does not deserve your kindness. Now or ever,” he said stopping her and forcing her eyes to find his.

She firmly pulled herself from his grasp. “Everyone deserves kindness at some point,” she said with ferocity. “Even someone as cruel as Ivar. Who is not as evil as everyone may think," she added in his defense.

“Ivar, these people, they are the reason your family is coming for you.  You should not want to make his life better for some irrational motive," he spat before he could stop himself.

The Princess’s eyes widened. Her heart pounded . Her stomach dropped. She felt as if she vomit right where she stood.

"What do you mean my family is coming for me?" she whispered excitedly, pulling Declan off the the shadows and away from listening ears. "They would not risk it. I made sure of it," she added trying mostly to convince herself it wasn't true.

"Your father and expelled every Northman from his lands and your brothers have convinced him to find you," he explained simply.

She closed her eyes and silently s folded her brothers for meddling.

"There is more," he continued cautiously.

Her eyes sprang back open and found Declan's. "What do you mean more?"

His anguish was written all over his face. He didn't want to warn her. Her wanted her returned home - where she would be safe and sound. Selfishly he also wanted to silence Addis and keep her here, with him. He doubted a princess would remain friends with a commoner upon their return home.

"Declan. What is it?" she urged him further.

A defeated sigh fell from him. "Someone is already here and looking for you," he admitted quietly.

"They can not find me." She desperately glanced around, trying to spot the stranger now hunting for her. "It will bring nothing good if word finds my family," she added bringing her attention back to him.

"Ehrlana," he said steadying her, his eyes locking with hers. "Everything will be fine," he reassured; though he had hoped she would have wanted to leave. It was disheartening that she seemed to choose her life here.

She pulled him into a hug. "Thank you."

His arms momentarily tightened around her in response before parting from her. He held her face in his hand, worry clear in her eyes. He fought the urge to kiss her. "I swear to you he will not find you."

She nodded silently, her hand finding his. She prayed he was right. "I must get back," she choked out quietly, her fear still gripping at her chest. "Ivar will notice I am late," she lied.

Declan gave a halfhearted smile and nodded. His hand slipped from her cheek and let her pass.

She had been terrified she’d been found out. Ehrlana still wasn’t sure she was in the clear just yet. There was no telling what would happen now and she feared Ivar would find out her secret before the threat of revelation was fulfilled.

For now though she needed to appear as if everything was normal and that's exactly what she did.

------

That evening she returned to Ivar's bedchamber with the freshly cleaned clothing and a small jar resting on top the small pile in her arms. Their usual nightly routine began after she’d put them away. Only instead of removing the braids in his hair after undoing his straps, she opened the jar and started to smooth some of the cream across one of his fresher cuts.

As expected he pushed her hand away and stopped her. "What do you think you are doing?"

“It will help with the scarring,” she explained. “And the pain,” she said slowly going back to caring for his legs. It was a risk, but he needed a healer’s touch and she knew he would never ask for it. Once she was freed of his grip, she went back to caring for him.

"What pain?" he feigned ignorance to her assumption.

"As your servant I see more of you than you know,” she said pushing through his facade. “I see how much you hurt even when you do your best to hide it."

Ehrlana knew once it took effect he would be, if nothing else, grateful internally. Scents of lemon mixed with a hint of lavender filled the air as she worked the balm in her hands. She’d told him it was for the cuts, but it was for much more. It would help with swelling, pain, infection, aide in his sleep, help ease his anger and his stress. The balm was nothing short of miraculous; a concoction learned from her own healer back home.

As a Princess she had only received the best of care. Her healer was one of the few people her father allowed to see her whenever she wishes, so Ehrlana picked up everything she could from the woman.

Gently she smoothed some over the largest of the cuts before tenderly rubbing it into his skin. He grimaced slightly. His jaw tightened with anger, but he fought the initial urge to push her away. Whatever it was, it was working. At least enough for Ivar to briefly feel relief. The coolness against his skin felt better than anything he'd tried before, so he allowed her to continue.

"My mother was a healer," she started as she repeated the process, applying a second coat on the first leg. "She taught me as much as possible before I was..." Her eyes momentarily darted to his.

They both knew how she got there. There was no need to elaborate on her capture it would only lead to questions she wasn't ready to answer.

"This,” she said moving on to his other leg, “was always my favorite.”

She finished rubbing his legs down and wiped her hands clean, but not before inhaling the scent, and for a brief moment, allowed a smile to cross her lips. She closed the jar, grabbed some dressings, and began to wrap it around them.

"Where is your mother now?" Ivar asked, watching her as she moved about his room.

“She didn’t live through the last raid on my people,” she said, pausing to keep her composure. Caoimhe was on top of her list of unwanted conversation topics. Fortunately her fate was also unnecessary to elaborate on.

[sm-entertain-me]

Enjoy the View (M)

Requested by @jikookaestheticvmin95:  Can i get a reaction where one of the members walk in on me and another member....y'know 😏 and then tell the others members all about it... I have problems, lmao. Xoxo, totally understand if you can't do it. (Jeongguk subject)

Contains: Jeon Jeongguk x (f) reader, smut, adult language, dry humping? (to get them in the mood, don’t judge me), descriptions of sex, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism

Synopsis: Apparently nobody in the dorm knows how to knock anymore...

After the movie date you and Jeongguk had, Jeongguk decided it would be nice to go home and relax for a little. But you knew him better than that. Any time he wanted to go home after spending the day with you, he would almost always convince you to have sex with him at the dorm regardless of who was home. Not like it mattered to you anyway, you always enjoyed the way Jeongguk would treat you in the bedroom; neck kisses, thigh gripping, grinding, writhing bodies on top of each other, spanking... All of it was nice. And the members did respect your guy’s privacy as they are well aware that Jeongguk is growing up now and has a serious girlfriend. All they really ask of you two is to keep your moans and other lewd sounds to a minimum. Not much, right?

“Jeonggukkie,” You called after him as you found yourself sitting on the edge of his bed, watching the way he entered the room and closed the door behind him with a devilish grin. His hands gripped at the bottom of his black sweatshirt and removed it quickly, you biting your lip from the sight of his sculpted body springing free. You licked your lips at the sight, feeling your whole body beginning to heat up from the raw lust you had for him and only him. Jeongguk smirked as he stood in front of you, pushing on your chest lightly to have you lay down on the bed as he hovered on top of you, “Goddamn you look so good underneath me.” “Really?” You asked as you gave him a small peck on the lips, wrapping your legs around his torso as you moved in such a way to have Jeongguk pinned underneath you instead of the other way around. “Because I think I look better on top.” Jeongguk wasn’t one to argue with your perky breasts being at eye level with him, showing his approval of your change in position by grabbing on the buttons of your button down and ripping your blouse open to reveal your supple breasts accentuated by the black lace bra that barely covered you. The blouse wasn’t that expensive anyway. 

As you sat on top of his waist, you rested your hands on his broad shoulders while Jeongguk pulled you closer to him, not allowing any kind of space between your hot bodies as he ravaged the tender skin of your neck. Running his slick tongue over a sensitive part of your neck, you bucked into his groin area instinctively to signal he found your favorite spot. Jeongguk moaned lightly against your neck as he left small love bites, assuring the vibrations on your neck would trail down into your already dampening pussy. Whimpers escaped your lips as you pressed your torso against his well built chest, moving your hips in a circular motion when you felt the tip of his cock bulge against you. “Fucking hell,” Jeongguk moaned again, biting down lightly on your collar bone as his hands gripped at the flesh of your ass to bring you closer. His hands took control of your movements, pulling your hips back and slamming you forward at a pace that you both liked. The way he was having you move against his pelvis was driving you insane as you threw your head back, feeling your eyes beginning to roll back as you pleaded with him, “Jeongguk please fuck me. I’m going to cum just like this.” You felt the pace of his hands pulling you back and forth by your hips slow down, him taking his finger and placing it under your chin so you could see the cocky smirk on his face, “All you had to do was ask, jagiya.”

It didn’t take long for each of your clothes to come off, Jeongguk having a habit of ripping clothes off at such a fast pace that you were sure he could rip the already thick fabric of your denim shorts. As you two were kissing passionately, Jeongguk’s hands wrapped tightly around your body while yours were tangled in his soft brown locks, you felt one of Jeongguk’s hands slip from the back of your ass. Jeongguk’s hand slipped in between your legs quickly, his fingers pressing past your eager walls as he dove right in. “Ahh, Jeongguk,” You cried out as you felt Jeongguk slip two fingers into you without resistance, his fingers curling up and sliding generously against your dripping walls. Jeongguk smirked against your lips, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you to feel the way your walls clenched around his digits tightly, continuing to edge you on until you bucked your hips violently against his hand. He knew that you were already so close to cumming, and he didn’t want you to feel bad for cumming before him since he usually takes a while, so he pulled his fingers out of you much to his dismay. At this point you were already panting against his chest, relishing in the feeling your pussy gave as it throbbed uncontrollably. Jeongguk admired your reddened face with his bunny smile, taking this moment to turn all cutesy for you. But now is not the time for that, and you showed him by pushing on his chest lightly, glaring down at him as you leaned forward to line yourself up with his impressive length, “My turn.”

The harshness at which you came down on his cock was something that could only be described as animalistic, making sure your pussy would envelop every single inch of him as he groaned underneath you. Jeongguk loved it when you rode him because he loved seeing you in complete control, enjoying every moment of seeing that extremely sexy look of concentration as you bounced on his cock. “Mmm, Y/N. You’re doing so good, you feel so good around my cock,” Jeongguk whispered breathlessly underneath you as you rested your hands on his chest, leaning forward slightly at an angle that drove you crazy. The way his cock pierced your slick walls was the most pleasurable thing you’ve felt as his cock could also provide the necessary friction to your bundle of nerves, aching desperately for some kind of attention. As you quickened your already brutal pace on Jeongguk, you felt him writing underneath you, feeling the way his thighs tightened to indicate he was trying his best to wait for you to cum before he did. You could already feel the tip of his cock twitching wildly inside of you, trying your best to bring yourself to your edge so he could bring himself to his. You were so close as you could feel the coil holding you back begin to snap, rocking your hips against Jeongguk violently to get the blissful friction against your now swollen clit... Until you heard a groan that didn’t belong to Jeongguk.

As you were riding Jeongguk into oblivion, eyes screwed tightly with him biting down on the flesh of your shoulder to stifle his moans, a groan came from the bedroom door. You opened your eyes in shock as you followed the noise, seeing Taehyung standing there with his eyes wide in shock. Jeongguk was too invested in his own euphoria to hear Tae making his presence known, taking matters into his own hands by bucking himself into you from below when he noticed you had slowed down. “Oh my god, Tae!” You screeched out as you scrambled on Jeongguk’s lap to find something to cover up your modesty while also trying to slide off of Jeongguk, but it was kind of hard with the death grip he had on your hips to keep you in place. When Jeongguk heard a name that wasn’t his fall from your lips, he opened his eyes with a cocked eyebrow until he saw his band member standing in the doorway with his mouth wide open. “Fuck’s sake Tae, do you know how to knock?” Jeongguk yelled as he lifted you off of his lap so that you could cover yourself up with the bundle of sheets at the base of the bed, him scurrying to do the same thing even though Tae has seen him naked plenty of times from their trainee days. Tae was absolutely flabbergasted at the scene in front of him, his eyes flicking from you moving uncomfortably underneath the sheets, and then back at Jeongguk as he swallowed hard, “I just... Jin-hyung told me to tell you dinner is ready if you want some.” Jeongguk pressed his finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, sighing at his interruption when he was so close to cumming, “Yeah, fine. We’ll be out soon.” 

“Guys!” Taehyung’s voice rang out as he ran down the hallway to join his hyungs as they were setting the table for one of Jin’s lavish weekly meals. Jimin looked up from his phone, cocking an eyebrow as to why he ran so fast from Jeongguk’s room, “What, Taehyung-ah?” Taehyung had to double over, hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath. Everyone else was either too busy cooking the meal, washing the dishes that got dirty during the meal preparation, or setting the table to really pay attention fully, so Taehyung had to settle with telling Jimin. “I just walked in on Jeongguk and Y/N fucking. It was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Taehyung said as he finally gained his composure, standing up fully and making his way to sit next to Jimin on the couch. Jimin raised an eyebrow at Taehyung yet again, silently asking what he meant by his comment. “I’m talking Y/N on top, riding Jeongguk. The way she moved those hips... It was like watching the best porn out there,” Taehyung said, closing his eyes to recall all of the details of what he saw, licking his lips at the thought of you bouncing on Jeongguk’s cock as if it were his cock that you were riding. Upon relaying all the sultry details, Taehyung noticed he gained a couple more audience members with Namjoon and Yoongi coming over to hear all about this little story. None of the guys had ever seen you and Jeongguk fucking, hell, most of the time they couldn’t even hear you. But since none of the guys had been getting any lately except for Jeongguk, they were all ears when it came to detailed descriptions of what went on behind closed doors.

It’s no secret that you are a beautiful girl with assets Kim Kardashian herself would be jealous of, so the guys are always eager to imagine you or get the lucky chance to see you that way. Once Yoongi had walked in on you in the shower, but he hadn’t seen enough of you to be satisfied. And if he had seen anymore of you, Jeongguk would surely knock him out. “Okay, was she moaning a lot?” Yoongi questioned, sitting casually on the couch with his full attention on Taehyung’s story. Taehyung smirked to himself as he pictured the way your lips parted to let out small moans that were clearly held back so not as to disturb the guys, “Yes she was. Jeongguk really knows how to take care of his woman.” “Better than you can,” Hoseok chimed in as he had been helping Jin with the dishes, earning a few chuckles from each of the members. Taehyung rolled his eyes at Yoongi, resisting the urge to flip him off since he was his hyung after all, looking around the room to take any more questions. “Do you think she’s really tight?” Jimin asked, genuinely invested into the conversation at this point as the bulge in his pants began to grow just from imagining sinful things about you. Taehyung took a moment on this question, taking a finger and tapping his chin softly, “I think she would be. Jeongguk seemed pretty happy with how she was riding him, I can only imagine how tight she is.” As they were all thinking about you and your physical characteristics in regards to sex, there came a familiar voice that wasn’t originally part of the conversation to begin with, “Personally, she’s the tightest I’ve ever had.”

Everyone’s heads turned to see Jeongguk holding hands with you, moving you slowly so that you stood in front of him, his hands snaking around your waist to hold you in place. “Oh, uh, Jeongguk... We didn’t know you guys were done,” Namjoon said nervously as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with both you and Jeongguk. Normally if people found out that your good friends were talking about them and how tight they were when they rode their boyfriends, one would assume the subject of the conversation would get mad, right? Well, not you. You seemed pretty flattered as you smiled to all of them lightly, watching each of their expressions on their face, “You guys are really talking about what Tae saw in there?” You watched as each of the members in the rather inappropriate conversation hung their heads in shame, nodding at your question. Jeongguk bent around your frame to look you in the eye as you rested in his arms, chuckling as he gave you a quick peck on the lips, “Jagi, I just think they’re talking about us because they haven’t gotten laid in months. They need something to jerk off to every night, isn’t that right boys?” Nobody said a word, not really wanting to acknowledge that that was indeed the reason. You couldn’t help but to laugh at their emotionless expressions as you turned to Taehyung, the one who decided to blabber about the whole ordeal, “Hope you enjoyed the view while it lasted, because you’ll never see it again.”

[anamericannightmareinpa]

War’s End {Michael Clifford}

War is hell. But if you're going through hell- through war -the only way out is through. They knew what had to happen to end the war, they had their plan. Rush them when they least expect it to drive them back to the compound where the last of them will take shelter. Then blow their sanctuary and all its inhabitants to kingdom come.

There would be casualties on both sides, and it was clear that whoever went in to plant the bombs would be running the risk of not making it out of there before the explosion. Plenty would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, to make it a safe place to raise children and to simply live a life free of fear. It shouldn't have been a surprise who volunteered, but she couldn't believe that he was willing to do this while she sat at home praying he made it back alive. "This is a fucking suicide mission, Michael!" "For anyone else, maybe. Not for the four of us. Me, Cal, Ash, and Luke are the best group to do this right and still make it out." She could feel hot tears of anger, fear, and frustration begin to wet her cheeks as she stepped up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest hard enough to bruise.  "You don't get to be a goddamn idiot and put yourself in this kind of danger when you have a family to worry about!" "We all have families and we all ARE family, which is why we need to do this and protect you! I'd rather have you safe without me than in danger with me. I'm not doing anything the boys aren't doing, so it's not me trying to skip out!" "The boys are fucking stupid too!" she shouted, her voice rising towards hysterical. "Do you think Luke's daughter is going to understand when her mother has to tell her that daddy and her uncles aren't coming back? Don't you think Calum's wife deserves to have the father of her child with her when she gives birth and as their kid grows up? Shouldn't Ash get a chance to know what it's like to live together with the love of his life?" "Why don't you have faith in us?!" he snapped. "We have all of you to fight for and we're going to end this once and for all! We're coming back!" "But what if you don't?!" she screamed, shoving his shoulder. It was quiet for a long moment, her tears coming faster than before and his green eyes watching with a spark of guilt. "We have to come back," he finally whispered.  She could only stare as he reached a gentle hand to rest on her hip, stepping forward to pull himself closer to where she was rooted to the floorboards. "I have to come back," he said, voice stronger. He bumped his nose against hers, then pressed his lips to her forehead. "I have my reasons for coming back alive, and the most important one is right here in my arms." Overwhelmed, she tucked her head into his chest, her tears making her skin stick to his shirt. Fisting her hand in the fabric, she let out a quiet sob. He held her tighter. "I'm coming back to you." ------------------------------------------------------ War is hell. But so is goodbye. Her tears hadn't even dried when she watched Michael walk out of the campsite with Calum by his side and Luke & Ashton leading the way, all of them strapped with the homemade bomb components. She stood amongst the partners of the others, their collective tears enough to end a drought. Her shirt was damp on the shoulder from where Calum's wife had wept against her, Luke's wife much the same with Ashton's partner still clinging to her too. Luke's daughter was pressed against her mother's leg, chubby cheeks flushed from what could be the last time she saw her daddy and uncles. "They're going to end this," she said, conviction heavy in her tone to assure both herself and the women and child around her. "They will," Luke's wife agreed. "But they need to come home." "Please, God, let them make it!" Ashton's partner wailed, tears appearing once more. Calum's wife sucked in a breath and laid one hand on her round stomach. "They have to get home." "They'll be back. All of them," she said firmly. ------------------------------------------------------ War is hell. But so is waiting. They could see the attack from their camp and watched in satisfaction as the remaining forces were driven back to their compound. Once the gates were closed, the illusion of safety projected, their people began to retreat in preparation for the final act. Watching the signal be given was bring out different emotions for her. She was elated for this war to end. She was terrified for the boys' safety. She was hopeful for the future. In the seconds before the blast, it was near silent as she and the others watched their friends and family scramble from the compound. From the camp's distance it was impossible to make out who was who, and she wasn't sure if she should be thankful for that fact or not. When the explosion finally came, it was massive. The boys had placed the bombs well, not a single wall of the compound left standing once the thicker smoke and dust had cleared. The heat could still be felt on her cheeks and the dusty wind swirled around her feet as she watched light grey and white smoke billow from the remains of their now departed enemies and the fortress that would entomb them. "It's over," she heard whispered from behind. She turned, catching sight of Calum's wife and the thin tears tracking down her cheeks.  "It is," she agreed as Luke's wife and child came forward with Ashton's partner.  "We should go meet them," Ashton's partner said, hands clasped tightly at their chest. "The others are going down to the front." Luke's wife looked apprehensive but stayed silent, cradling the toddler to her chest. The five of them journeyed down to the front lines amongst the rest of those who had stayed behind. Anxiety bubbled within each of them, the fear that the four men they cared for the most wouldn't be there once the dust settled. When none of them were immediately visible, her nerves skyrocketed.  "Where are they?" she asked as she came upon one of the men who'd taken part in the strike. "Roy, where are the boys?" The blonde eyed her for a moment, expression unreadable. "They-" "Oh my God!" Calum's wife cried. She turned away from Roy to the sight of Ashton and Calum approaching, both of them bloody but alive.  Calum's entire left side was drenched in crimson, his arm hanging limp at his side amongst tattered pieces of his shirt. Supporting him from his right was Ashton who had a large gash above his temple that extended down to his jaw, blood flowing steadily out of it. Both of their faces also had trails of sweat trickling down through dirt and soot from the explosion. "Thank God you're alive!" Ashton's partner sobbed, running forward to wrap their arms around his waist. "'Course I'm alive," he said with a chuckle, his voice hoarse. "Just got ya, can't be leaving ya." Calum's pained expression smoothed over as he moved towards his wife, his right hand pushing her hair back and then brushing the tears from beneath her eyes. "Don't cry," he said softly. "I'm okay, I promise. Nothing the medic and a few weeks of rest won't fix." She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. "I was so worried we'd lose you." "Shh," he hushed, pulling her into his chest, "I'm here with you and our little one forever." As the couples reunited, she turned away from them, the moments so intimate and raw that she felt she shouldn't look. Instead, she looked to Luke's wife who sported a tight-lipped expression as she held her daughter close. When their eyes met, she saw her own thoughts reflected back at her: Ashton and Calum were wounded but alive, right there with them. They had made it. But the absence of the others wasn't unnoticed. "Guys," she called after allowing the couples their reunions. "Where are Luke and Michael?" Calum looked to Ashton, the older man's brows furrowing. "I don't know," he admitted. "We got separated as we were coming out of the compound. They found us and we fought back which was working until the guns came into the mix. We had to take cover because both Cal and Luke got hit. Cal got it in the shoulder but I don't know about Luke." Luke's wife sucked in a breath, one hand cradling her daughter's head where thick blonde locks curled tight just like her father's. "We went out on the left," Calum picked up from Ashton. "I guess they went to the right, but I thought... I thought they'd be here by now." Panic roared in her chest and blood rushed in her ears. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't want to. Her nightmare had become reality. Michael had chosen to complete the mission, and he had, but at the ultimate price.  The war was over, but so was his life. He'd promised to come back to her. He'd stood in the campsite holding her and saying that he'd be back because he had her to fight for. He'd said he'd make it back. She felt tears welling behind her closed eyes and her stomach lurched. She was going to be sick, but she tried to fight it, clenching her jaw and fisting her hands at her sides.

“You two need your wounds taken care of.”

Her eyes opened and she saw Luke’s wife staring into the distance where the smoke still continued to rise, her expression blank as her daughter slept peacefully in her arms.

“I can go back around, they may have needed to take cover when the explosion hit,” Ashton said, letting go of his partner and stepping backwards from the group. “I can take the medic with me in ca-“

“No, you two need your wounds dressed,” Luke’s wife repeated. “They need treated to prevent an infection.”

“I can-“

“Shut up!” she snapped, lucky the sleeping child didn’t wake. “Get the damn medic!”

Everyone stared at her as her body trembled, grip on the small girl tightening slightly and tears gathering on her lashes. Everyone stared as she tried to keep her composure.

She admired Luke’s wife for thinking of the others in the situation.

Then, for the second time that day, silence descended on the moment.

She could only feel the ache in her chest at the thought of those they had lost. Her future and her family felt broken, the idea that they could ever be whole again without Michael absolutely out of the question. Their safety was ensured, yes, because of his sacrifice but an overwhelming large part of her would have rather the war rage on for millennia than to have it end without him beside her.

And Luke’s wife, it wasn’t fair to her either. To be left a widow raising her child in a post-war life where everything would be an adjustment.

“I need the fucking medic!”

Time froze in an instant when she heard the distant voice.

“He’s fucking bleeding- I NEED THE MEDIC!”

She turned around.

“I don’t know if the bullet’s still in the wound, we needed to get out of the blast zone.”

Bloody nose, split lip, and gashes along his arms, Michael had Luke’s arm slung around his neck as he shouldered most of the taller blonde’s weight. Luke’s lower right side was covered in blood and his expression pained but alert as the medic reached him. Two other members of their party helped Luke towards where the injured were being treated, and Michael looked around eagerly once his friend was taken care of.

When he spotted the group, he blew out a breath and jogged over, both Ashton and Calum clapping him on the back with quiet murmurs of relief at his return. Then, he went to Luke’s wife.

“He was hit in his side and he’s in a lot of pain, but he should be okay. It’s probably going to be a tough recovery, but he’s going to be okay,” he rushed out.

Luke’s wife finally allowed the tears to fall as she took his hand in her free one. “Thank you for getting him back to us.”

He shook his head with a smile. “We both had our reasons to come back. Go to him—he needs his girls.”

With a watery laugh, she set out towards her husband.

Finally, Michael looked to her and lifted a hand to run through his hair.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he said nervously. “But I had to make sure Luke made it back too.”

With a shake of her head she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and tugged him forward, her head resting on his chest as her tears flowed freely.

“You kept your promise,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I had to come back to you.”

Michael cupped her cheeks and lifted her head to look into her eyes for a brief moment before pressing his lips against hers, hoping that she understood just how much he loved her and how ready he was for their future.

War is hell. But when it is over, there can be good.

[valgusordo]

Too much information: Character Interview

I saw this post on the wonderfully talented @saph-y​‘s blog and thought to myself, “that looks fun, I want to try it!”  What follows is the result of that endeavor, for my Wulfgard OC, Inquisitor Marcus Capulet.  Saphy did his image which I use for my Tumblr avatar!

This one was commissioned from the co-creator of Wulfgard, though: the mighty @saber-scorpion​! His art and @maverick-werewolf​‘s writing have masterfully kept me interested in this fantasy universe for years, and it’s so much fun to RP in.  Anyway, hope you enjoy this interview!

► Name ➔ Inquisitor Marcus Capulet.  And yes, I have to say the title first every time.

► Are you single ➔ Not sure how relevant that is, but yes.

► Are you happy ➔ I...huh.  I don’t think anyone’s asked me that lately.  I suppose I am content, at the very least.

► Are you angry ➔ My, how swiftly the subject changes!  Not at the moment, but know that my patience is not infinite. 

► Are your parents still married ➔ They are, and still in good health, last I heard, thank you.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ Veritshire, the Haven of the Crossroads, the tiniest jewel in the crown of the southern half of the Empire.

► Hair Color ➔ Black.  “Jet” black, I’ve heard it called, though I haven’t yet learned where the term came from.

► Eye Color ➔ Brown.  Almost muddy, as my partner, Kate, loves to torment me with.

► Birthday ➔ 

► Mood ➔ Amused and intrigued, really.  Answering a plethora of questions instead of asking them is a...refreshing...change of pace.

► Gender ➔ Male.

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter, by far.  Void iron armor may not heat as easily as regular steel, but it can still get stifling.  Plus, snow is just fascinating, don’t you think?  Never saw it before when I was growing up.  Much more fun than sand.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Afternoons, really.  By that time I’ve usually gotten past the hustle and bustle of the morning and prepare for a quiet evening.  Hopefully.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ I...was, once.  I’d rather not discuss this further.

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Not really.  Initial attraction can be strong, sure, as is raw, sinful lust, but from what I’ve learned over the years, love must be built.  I don’t think it’s something you fall into.  

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ If I am correctly inferring that you mean romantically, it was ended by a mage.  Never learned the bastard’s name, but he murdered my lady love and nearly half of my town’s population along with her.  But she was “out of my league,” as I’ve heard it said, anyway, and we were both too young and foolish to realize I didn’t deserve her.  Since then, I’ve been married to my job, and she treats me well.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Not that I know of, and if I have, it certainly wasn’t intentional.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ Afraid?  No.  Too busy?  I’m afraid so.

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Uh...no.  Are you offering?  We only just met, it’d be highly irregular.

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Most likely not.  Anyone stalking me in the shadows usually has violent intent, not romantic.  I’m good at spotting the former, but have never noticed the latter.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ I’m not sure I understand the question, but I think not.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ Love, hands down.  If I had a denarius for every lust-centered, often demonic cult I’ve helped bring down, I’d be richer than some Barons.  Maybe a couple insolvent Counts, too.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ I don’t...what?  Are those beverages of some kind? 

*modern AU Marcus steps in* Allow me to assist you, good sir.  The ingredients are foreign to your time and location, but go for the lemonade.  It’s cold, sweet, tangy, and refreshing for hot days.  Proper tea is consumed while hot.  Good day to you.  *exeunt stage right*

Oh, that was helpful.  Thank you, myself in strange clothing.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ Dogs, by far.  Much friendlier, more loyal, and also more useful.  Some theorize that cats are drawn to magical sources, but I’ve never so much as gotten one of the bloody things to do more than hiss at me.  I’ll take a tracking hound or fighting alaunt any day.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ I do my fair share of traveling and make a great many acquaintances, but in my line of work having a few friends you can trust is worlds better than an army of potential spies and enemies.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ The night in, definitely.  More controlled, and safer, to boot.  Heading out in small numbers and getting drunk is the best way to get one’s purse...or throat...cut in a dark alley.

► Day or night ➔ Night, I think.  I need all the help I can get if I’m sneaking up on a suspect, and I do enjoy the quiet peace that comes with working by candlelight.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Only once, when I was younger, and it wasn’t even my idea! My brother was an apprentice with the guards, and told us about a prisoner who’d come from all the way north of the Coldstone Wall.  Lady Victoria wanted to get a look at him, and convinced me, Lucille, and Felix to pretend we were all just bringing my brother some food during his watch.  But when we walked toward the door to look through the bars, out shot the prisoner’s hand, aimed right at our throats!  Poor Lucille screamed, and we had nowhere to run when the real guards came to investigate the commotion.  They didn’t dare accost the daughter of the Baron, but the rest of us got quite a hiding when we returned home!  Apologies for rambling, nostalgia and all that.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ Does it count if I was pushed?  Because there was that one incident with an uncooperative suspect in a rather large inn, and an undignified rolling and landing that I’d rather not talk about.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Yes. Especially since it was too late for me to do anything about it.

► Wanted to disappear ➔ A few times.  It would be especially handy with my occupation, or convenient in more...trying...times.

► Laughed uncontrollably about something ➔ While I’m usually good at maintaining my composure, there was this one incident where Kate and I went into a castle’s cellar to investigate some horrifying noises, only to find one of the servants and, presumably, his wife in flagrante delicto.  We apologized...well, I apologized while Kate snickered, closed the door, concluded that no one, in fact, was being horribly murdered, and cackled all the way back.

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ An odd question, but eyes, I think.  Much harder to hide how one feels up there, while smiles are easily faked.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ For me, or for someone else?  I wouldn’t mind growing a few inches, but it’s not a huge concern for me with ladies I’m interested in.

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ I’d say intelligence.  Even if we’re not attracted to each other, at least we can converse.  It’s how I’ve built up my best friendships, really.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook...up?  Is that some new slang the children are using?  I lived by the desert, I know nothing of fishing.  At any rate, I’d say Relationships.  I’d rather build something meaningful than treat my love life like some bloody contest, like my friend Lorenzo does.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ My brothers and I had our fights as children, but the siege of our hometown brought us all together, and made us grow up fast, if we wanted to survive.  I haven’t seen them or my parents in a long time, but we write to each other frequently, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.  Well, nothing legal, at any rate.

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ It certainly hasn’t gone the way I wanted it, or thought I would have to settle for, but once again, I am content.  If my pain brings peace to others, I can hardly complain.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ Only once, but it was less from home and more from memories that I could no longer face there.  Magic, or “The Condition,” as my order calls it, took loved ones from all of us.  I could have stayed to help rebuild, but thought I could do more good by joining the Inquisition, and I’d gladly make that choice again.

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ Not physically, but I have been sternly told to leave by powerful figures who didn’t appreciate my presence or investigations.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ Certainly not!  What kind of friend would I be at that point?  Though Kate does love to jump up and down on that line when she thinks she can get away with it.

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ Yes, I haven’t kept very many, after all.  After tasting betrayal early in life, I’ve learned to be more discerning about such matters.

► Who is your best friend ➔ Choosing favorites is difficult, but Kate is the most qualified by far.  She may be an utter sociopath with a violent streak two leagues wide, and a sense of humor and vocabulary that would make the filthiest of sailors blush, but she’s saved my life more times than I can count, and I can always depend on her for help or advice.  Oftentimes without asking, too.

► Who knows everything about you ➔ My mother, without question.  Kate may have worked with me for nigh twenty-odd years, but I haven’t told her everything about me.  Meanwhile, my mother infers so much from just what I put on parchment that I’d almost swear she’s spying on me.  Comes with the territory, I suppose.

Whew, that took some effort to write!  Now, whom to inflict, um, I mean, share this with next....

Just kidding, I knew who I was going to tag as soon as I started.  The talented writers known as @maverick-werewolf​ and @tafferfield​, of course!  They inspired me to keep writing my characters outside of just RPing, and I truly hope they both enjoy this exercise I stumbled across.