#hoping I can crawl out from under my work mountain soon

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb - Part Four

Note - Happy Wednesday, thank you all for your kind comments on the last chapter I hope you all like this one too 💙 and as always feedback is appreciated 😉

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Master List

Mason sent through the address within the hour and you had a quick nosey at where it was. The house was huge, on a private road surrounded by other huge houses, and it was a far cry from you little one bed flat.

You’d told yourself you weren’t going, but it didn’t stop you from thinking about what you might have to wear if you did go, remembering you’d bought a cute lacey corset top to wear when you went to Leeds but you’d ended up taking something else.

You carried on with life, not hearing from Mason again until Friday lunchtime when you felt your phone buzz as a text came through.

You read the text over a few times, guilt washing over you at the fact he wanted to see you and you weren’t planning on being there. Every interaction with this boy seemed to chip away at you and you were soon texting your best friend Freya to help you.

No more than three minutes later and your phone was ringing, a cute picture of the pair of you filling your screen and you smiled as you picked up.

‘Hey frey’

‘Who have I got to kill?’ She said sternly and you burst out laughing at her protectiveness.

‘No one yet, I just need to rant at you about something and no matter what you feel, I need you to tell me I’m right okay? cause that’s what friends do’

‘Hit me with it’ she quipped and you started on your long rant about how you’d ended up here. You hadn’t mentioned to her when you’d made it back to her flat about getting stuck in a lift with Mason so she was shocked when you gave her the low down of what happened that night but she let you rant how you hadn’t managed to shake him off and now you were contemplating seeing him again that night.

Freya knew you like the back of her hand. You’d been best friends since you were five and she knew what you were thinking before you’d even thought it, so to hear you now taking like this about a boy shocked her. But she was secretly happy for you, not having heard you speak this way in a long time.

‘Well, I’m gonna have to go against girl code here, babe’ she told you and you huffed in annoyance.

‘No no no, you promised to tell me I was right’

‘And any other time I would, but come on, y/n. When was the last time you took a bit of a risk and let someone in?’

‘That’s the point, I don’t. But he’s getting under my skin and I barely know him’

‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘At the weekend. I don’t know Frey I just feel safer texting him cause then I can convince myself he’s not real’

‘So you don’t want to see him again?’ She asked and you took a second before you answered even though you knew the answer straight away.

‘No, I do’ you breathed and you could hear her chuckle down the line.

‘So do it. Doll yourself up and go see your man’

‘He’s not my man’ you groaned before you both burst into a fit of giggles.

The rest of the day was spent finishing up work before ordering yourself some food. You were in two minds about tonight and Masons message still sat unanswered in you phone but there was no way you were responding now. You’d just hopped out of the shower when something inside you snapped, then and there deciding you were going to go. It’s not everyday you get invited to a fancy house party with gorgeous footballers, so why not make the most of it.

You quickly got dressed in a pair of baggy jeans before throwing on some heels and the corset top to show off your figure. You didn’t spend too long on your hair and make up but by the time you’d made it to Masons friends house it was around 10:45pm.

As soon as you got out of the Uber you wanted to crawl back inside and go home but he drove off pretty quickly, leaving you on your own to walk up the drive to the door. No one was outside but you could tell there was something going on from where you were and you hoped the doorbell was loud enough for someone to hear.

In the end it didn’t matter though, the front door opening and a guy around your age walking out looking down at his phone, doing a double take as he heard your shoes on the gravel path. You gave him a friendly smile and you noticed him give you a once over before smiling back.

‘You okay?’ He questioned and you nodded shyly at him. ‘Do I know you?’

‘Uh no, my names y/n. Mason invited me’ you told him and his face instantly changed to a knowing look as he smiled wider at you.

‘Ah, I was beginning to think he’d made you up’ the man laughed as you hugged your arms around yourself. ‘I’m Kai, by the way. Come on let’s get you inside, I can take you to him’ he offered and you smiled before following him in.

He guided you through the impressive house with his hands on your shoulders, weaving you in between a sea of gorgeous looking people until you got to the kitchen where Mason stood with his back to you, slightly off to the side of a group of guys who all looked at you as you walked in but Mason was too focused on filling his cup up to notice you come in.

‘Hey Mount, I’ve got a delivery for you’ Kai shouted over to him and he turned his head slowly before he realised it was you, a look of relief washing over his features as he smiled over at you. His drink was quickly forgotten about as he made his way over almost instantly, ignoring the giggles and jibes from the boys behind him as he came closer.

‘Y/n? I didn’t think you were coming’ he told you as he approached, Kai now having moved from behind you to stand with the other boys and you gulped down a nervous lump as you looked up at Mason.

You hated the fact he looked so handsome, even dressed in a simple plain black T-shirt and jeans but you’d noticed he’d had his hair cut since the last time you’d seen him last week and you willed your cheeks not to flush. His dimples were on full show as his eyes creased at the sides of his face, letting you know he was giving you a real smile with his eyes rather than one just out of politeness.

‘I wasn’t planning on it but, here I am I guess’ you smiled and he laughed lightly at you.

‘Well I’m glad you’re here’ he beamed before a chorus of oooing and ahhing came from the boys, teasing Mason but he was quick to give them the finger. ‘Shut up dickheads, come on let’s get you a drink’ he told you before leading you out into the utility room. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Surprise me’ you told him and he laughed before turning away from you to grab a cup and a bottle. ‘So is this Kai’s house?’

‘No, Ben’s. I’ll introduce you later’ he murmured whilst passing you a red cup. You gave him a small thank you before taking a sip, unsure of what it was he gave you but it was sweet and alcoholic so you didn’t care. ‘I mean it though, I’m really glad you’re here’

‘Yeah?’

‘Definitely’ he confirmed as he walked closer, stopping just in front of you with your chests almost touching. You noticed what looked like to be a spec of fluff on his top by his neck and you reached out to remove it causing him to hold his breath and even though he was quiet, you were so close that you heard him. Your eyes wondered up to meet his and you noticed how close the pair of you were, lips only a few inches apart as his breath fanned your face.

You broke eye contact with him before taking a nervous sip, not feeling like your usual confident self around him once again as you took a step away from him.

‘So where are these cute boys you promised me’ you asked with a smile as you turned and made your way out, laughing to yourself as you heard him scoff behind you.

‘I never promised you that. Plus there’s only one and he’s right here’

‘Oh yeah? Can you point him out to me? I can’t quite see him’ You teased, turning to glance at him and you could tell he was getting a bit flustered.

‘Ah there you are’ you heard suddenly from a familiar voice and you turned to see Kai was now standing in-front of you with a pretty brunette on his arm. You felt Mason stop right behind you, his body heat almost making you shiver and you were wondering if he was going to reach out and hold you in some way but he seemed to be keeping his hands to himself. ‘Y/n, this is my girlfriend, Sophia’ he told you and she smiled warmly at you. ‘I thought it might be nice for you to hang out with another girl rather than be stuck with him all night’ he joked and you laughed as you felt Mason shake his head behind you.

The usual uneasy feeling you got around other girls at parties didn’t seem to be present as she smiled at you and held her hand out which you took almost instantly, thankful you could get away from Mason for a bit and focus again but you knew he’d be lurking so you couldn’t miss him too much.

‘Come on, let’s leave the boys. I need you to tell me where you got this outfit from’ she asked you as she pulled you away. You chanced a look back at Mason who was pouting a little bit as Kai dragged him back into the kitchen so you sent him a wink before disappearing.

Sophia was a lot of fun, so fun in fact you seemed to be forgetting your rule of not having anymore friends than you already have. You both seemed to be bad influences on each other, encouraging the other to drink more than they could handle until you were dancing on Bens coffee table with a couple of the other girls.

Mason managed to keep an eye on you at all times, whenever you looked in his direction he was already looking at you and at first he seemed embarrassed but as the night wore on the shyness left him and he held your eye contact a bit longer. Sending you a cheeky smile or a wink.

Seeing him around all these people he knew made you notice was how touchy he seemed to be with everyone. No matter who he was with he would put his hands on their shoulders or lean into them as he laughed and you were brought back to the thoughts you had the other day where you wondered why he kept his hands to himself around you when he seemed comfortable enough to lounge over everyone else. You weren’t sure why it was bothering you so much but when he eventually came over to join your group you noticed it even more.

He sat next to you, his arm around the back of the sofa behind you but his skin never touched yours. You subconsciously leaned back into him after a while and he took this to mean he could put his arm around you properly. You only realised when he lent his cheek on the top of you head as he was laughing at someone’s joke what position you were in and you felt yourself tense up. He must of felt something too, slowly rubbing his thumb over your skin and you were surprised about how much it relaxed you. The pair of you sat and laughed at Kai and Sophia bickering but still no words were shared between you. You were racking your brain to think of something when he placed his lips to you ear.

‘Are you okay? Can I get you anything?’ He whispered so only you could hear and you turned to face him, again surprised about how close your faces were. You gulped as you averted your eyes down and shook your head, nervous again and you shut your eyes to make it go away. He avoided your eyes for the next half an hour and when everyone dispersed, he gently slid out from behind you and made a beeline for the stairs.

Kai and Sophia left soon after, and once you’d said your goodbyes you wondered around trying to find Mason again but he’d seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. You wondered if he’d seen you tonight realised he didn’t want you around anymore after your constantly changing attitude but you willed yourself not to think about it as you wondered around upstairs looking for a bathroom.

When you left, you almost immediately ran into someone, apologising as they held you steady and you looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going’ you explained but he just shook his head as he laughed.

‘It’s fine, honestly’ he told you as he straightened himself up. ‘You’re y/n right?’

‘Depends on who’s asking’

‘I’m Ben’ he laughed and your eyes went wide as you realised this was his house.

‘Oh right, sorry about standing on your coffee table’ you joked and he just shrugged.

‘Don’t worry about it. Are you alright? You feel a bit cold’

‘I’m fine, don’t worry I should of dressed a bit more appropriately’ you laughed and he quickly disappeared behind a door before coming back with a black hoodie and offering it to you. ‘Oh no, I’ll be fine honestly’

‘Please, I insist. Can’t have my guests being cold’ he told you and you eventually took it from him. ‘If you’re looking for Mason, he’s just in there’ he winked, nodding to a door just up the hall before he made his way back downstairs. You quickly pulled the hoodie over your head before adjusting your hair and making your way over to the door Ben said Mason was behind. You gave it light knock and you heard him softly tell you to come in so you opened the door and popped your head round the side.

The bedroom he was in was dimly lit, and he was sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand as it was plugged in to charge. A small smile spread across his lips as he realised it was you and he nodded for you to come in. You stepped inside but lent your back up against the door and he gave you a funny look at your sudden change of clothing.

‘What are you wearing?’

‘Oh this?’ You questioned, pulling at the strings. ‘Ben gave it to me. Said I felt cold’

‘Why was he feeling you?’ He probed, his eyebrow’s drawing together in what you assumed was jealousy and you let out a breath before stumbling over to sit next to him on the bed.

‘I bumped into him when I came out the loo. What are you doing in here?’ You inquired and his face relaxed slightly as he put his phone down.

‘I’m staying here tonight, was just putting my phone on charge and having a break for a few minutes’ he told you and you nodded as you looked around the room. ‘Are you having a good night?’

‘Yeah, Sophia seems nice. Are you?’

‘Yeah, but I was hoping to speak to you more than I have’ he told you, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly and you let out a little giggle.

‘The nights still young’ you told him, checking the time on your phone to see it was nearing 2am and you grimaced slightly. ‘Or not. I didn’t realise it was that late. I’ll have to head off soon’

‘Wait, don’t go’ he pleaded ‘I’ve barely seen you’

‘It’s late, Mason. Plus we sat together downstairs for over an hour and you didn’t hardly say a word to me’ you pouted and he gulped as he’d realised you’d noticed. ‘Why haven’t you? Have I done something wrong? I know I can be difficult but I’m trying’ You told him softly, the alcohol seeming to make you a bit vulnerable and honest and you watched his face drop as he realised you were a bit upset about it.

‘No of course not, I’m so sorry. I don’t know I guess I was just a bit nervous’ he confessed and your eyes dropped to your lap. ‘Why don’t you stay here? With me? Ben won’t care. I’ll sleep on the floor or something just please don’t go’ he pleaded and you were stunned at how quickly he was able to wear you down. ‘I promise I’ll get you home tomorrow early-‘

‘Mason-‘

‘Please, I’m not letting you go home alone this time of night. I’ll even go bunk with Ben if I have to or sleep on the sofa but I’m not letting you leave’

‘Fine I’ll stay’ you cut him off with a quiet laugh and he relaxed instantly, half wanting to keep him happy and the other half wanting to get your head down as the alcohol was wearing off and you were tired.

‘Thank you’ he smiled and you were about to reply when a white paper bag with your name on it on-top of the chest of drawers caught your attention.

‘What’s that?’ You asked he he followed your line of sight, blushing and stuttering as he caught onto what you were looking at. ‘Is that for me?’

‘Well it’s got your name on it’ he laughed as he nodded over to it. ‘Open it’

You walked over to find a long pink box inside and once it was out of the bag you opened it to find the poshest looking chocolate chip cookies you’d ever seen. You turned to face him with a confused expression and he was blushing furiously now.

‘You said the other week when I got you the brownie you would of preferred a cookie’ he explained, walking up to you, and your breath got caught int your throat.

Without thinking about it, you threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your face into his neck. He seemed shocked at first, but after a second he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his body even further.

‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me’ you whispered and you felt his body shake as he let out a little chuckle at your words.

‘It’s just some cookies, Y/n’

‘I know’ you uttered and Mason squeezed you a tiny bit harder. ‘Thank you. Why did you bring them here though? I wasn’t even sure I was coming’

‘I know, I just hoped you would I guess’ he spoke into your shoulder and you felt yourself melt before you slowly pulled away from each other. He kept his hands planted on your hips as he tried to catch your eyes but you keep them down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you felt right now. ‘I think most people are gone, we can get ready for bed if you want’ he told you and you nodded shyly. ‘Just wait here, I’ll go grab you some bits’

He was soon back with his arms full of supplies. Bottles of water and painkillers plus some wipes and a toothbrush from Bens box of spares that apparently he kept at his house in case of emergencies and you we’re pretty sure you knew what that meant.

‘You can borrow something of mine to sleep in’ Mason told you and he was quick you take his shirt off and hand it over once you’d agreed. You tried as hard as possible not to look at his naked torso but you were only human, however Mason seemed to be sculpted by gods. Your eyes automatically landed on the little mole on his tummy and you got the overwhelming urge to kiss it.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, not wanting him to catch you looking so you took yourself off to the bathroom to get changed. Mason shirt was longer on you than you thought, coming down to about mid thigh and you felt yourself come over all warm as his smell consumed you.

You quickly wiped your makeup off before stealing some toothpaste from the wash bag on the side that you presumed was Masons before joining him back in the room.

He was now changed, dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of joggers and your heart sunk as you watched him make himself a bed up on the floor.

‘Mason?’ You called quietly and he whipped his head round to look at you. You watched the way his eyes widened as he gave you a once over, slyly licking his lips before his eyes met yours. ‘You don’t have to sleep on the floor, I’d feel awful if you hurt your back or something. There’s enough room for the both of us’ you told him, nodding to the bed but he shook his head almost instantly.

‘I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable’ he started but you shook your head straight away.

‘Please? It’s honestly fine I’ll feel more uncomfortable with you on the floor’ you argued and he huffed before nodding.

‘I’ll be back in a sec’ he told you, disappearing into the bathroom and you placed your stuff on a chair in the corner before sliding under the covers. True to his word, he wasn’t that long and soon enough he was gently climbing in besides you.

‘Are you not gonna get hot in all that?’ You asked, noticing he was fully dressed but he just shrugged and he settled down, making sure you keep his distance from you. ‘We’ll don’t overheat on my account’ You whispered, turning to face him. You shuffled a little closer to him, never crossing the imaginary middle line, but he smiled and moved himself a little closer to you.

‘Sorry if I made you feel like you’d done something wrong. You haven’t at all I just… Come on, let’s get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning’

‘I know I’m confusing’ you whispered and you felt him reach over to give your hand a squeeze. ‘I know I blow cold a lot but I’ve just got some stuff going on’

‘It’s okay, you don’t have to explain’ he whispered and even though you wanted to argue with him you thought now wasn’t the best time. ‘Y/n?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You looked beautiful tonight’ he whispered and you felt your whole body prickle with goosebumps, opening your eyes to try and find his in the dark but it was pitch black and no use. ‘I mean you always do but… yeah I’ll stop now’ he laughed

‘Have a good sleep, Mason’ you whispered, hoping your voice didn’t sound a shaky as you felt.

‘Night, Y/n’

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00

[the-lonelybarricade]

A Court of Faded Dreams: Chapter 51

Chapter title: This Is the Hardest part

Fic summary: In her grief after Rhys sacrifices himself to restore the Cauldron, Feyre accidentally sends herself back in time. Back in her human body, in her early days in the Spring Court, Feyre must be careful how she alters the timeline as she tries to save Rhys and Prythian from Under the Mountain.

It's here!! Thank you as always to @noirshadow for betaing this story despite my allergy to timely updates. I appreciate you so much!!

Read on AO3 ⟡ A Court of Faded Dreams Masterlist

Wind whipped over the white-capped mountains, billowing frost off the rocky peaks like drifting white banners. The snow announced their location just as effectively as any banner would; the howling valleys beneath Feyre and Cassian belonged to the Winter Court.

Frozen wind rushed past them with every powerful stroke of Cassian’s wings, lashing Feyre’s cheeks as she braved a glance towards the barren landscape below. The cold leaked into her chest as she thought about the distance still separating them from the Night Court. And how perhaps the white banners hailed more than just their arrival to Kallias’s court—Feyre knew that Cassian would need to rest soon.

If he were by himself, he might have been able to make the full trip. But with her added weight? The waning sun glistened against his forehead, and this close to him she could just make out his labored breathing over the rushing wind.

“Maybe we can stop in Winter,” Feyre suggested, needing to shout so her voice wasn’t lost. “Kallias could winnow us the rest of the way.”

To the Hewn City, at least. They would have to get to Velaris on their own.

“I’m fine,” Cassian said. As if Feyre couldn’t see the tension he held in his jaw, or hear it in his voice. “We’ll be in range of Rhys soon.”

This was assuming Rhys would be in the Night Court. Feyre knew her mate. If it were her, she would have been sweeping over every inch of land and sea between Velaris and Hybern. He had even said as much to her, in another life.

I would have torn apart the world to get you back.

“I’ll fly all night if I have to,” Cassian added, as though sensing her train of thought.

Feyre recalled when Cassian had first started training her. When she had been so lost inside herself, and the only way her friend had known to draw her out was by giving her something to punch. Over and over again, until she’d ruined the sparring pads, and Cassian had offered her his own bare hands.

It should have been me.

She imagined this was his own way of doing that. Pushing his body because it would distract his mind. It was the one thing he could control, the one way he could help his brothers when Feyre knew that every fiber of his being was likely screaming for him to fly to Hybern and make things right. Feyre didn’t know what else to offer him, so she said nothing, letting him fly them across Winter. She only hoped her heavy heart didn’t add to the weight he carried.

The sunset eventually offered a new set of challenges.

Darkness crept, slowly and stealthily, over the skyline. And once the daylight had been fully eradicated, navigation became much more difficult. But what was worse, the temperature dropped.

Cassian continued flying without complaint. The exertion was keeping him warm, she was sure. The Illyrian leathers she wore, though rumpled and stiff from her tumble through the sea, were at least fur-lined. But they were hardly equipped for a night spent in Winter’s mountain range. A shiver was already working up her spine. She clenched her teeth so they wouldn’t chatter.

Feyre would try, for Cassian’s sake, to endure the cold.

It must not have been very convincing, because Cassian swore. “We’re almost to the Middle.”

The thought wasn’t very reassuring to Feyre. The Middle was filled with dangerous creatures that crawled out at night. There would be nowhere safe to stop, and then she would need to wait until Dawn to convince him to rest. What if he became too exhausted before then? Feyre imagined them plummeting into a bog, having to fight off the creatures of the middle through physical force alone.

It was time to make a decision as High Lady, even if Cassian wouldn’t like it.

Just as Feyre opened her mouth, Cassian stiffened. She gasped against a blast of air as they made a sudden dive toward the icy, snow-dusted plains below. They slammed into the frozen earth with such force that a cloud of frost burst upwards on the impact. She worried it was powerful enough to crack the ice, but it held strong as Cassian dropped her—carefully—to her feet.

“Cass, what—”

He was staring over her shoulder, and she cut herself off to turn in the direction of his gaze, where darkness was erupting from a vacant space in the air, unfurling night and star-swept smoke and, eventually, the sight of her mate’s rumpled hair and wide violet eyes. There was no smug half-smile waiting for her, just open distress that faded into soul-wrenching relief the moment their eyes met.

The sound that came out of her was choked, like some garbled thought had gotten stuck in her thickening throat. Maybe it was her body trying to purge every word she’d tried to send to him while the bond had been muted. I’m okay and are you safe and how are my sisters and I’m so sorry that they took Az.

But foremost, always foremost, was I love you. I’ve missed you so much.

It was all Feyre could do not to drop immediately to her knees in the snow. Somehow, she managed to scramble across the ice, slipping from the momentum as she barrelled into her mate’s waiting arms.

Rhys caught her easily, pulling her firmly against his warm chest. He was shaking, or maybe that was the winter frost still trembling in her bones, beginning to thaw as she buried her face in his neck and inhaled the scent of citrus-and-sea. A broad hand tangled in the back of her hair, cradling her against him as his other began roaming over her neck, her shoulders, her back. Searching for injury or simply convincing himself that she was real.

“Thank the fucking Cauldron,” he breathed. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

And that must have been all he was holding on to, because as soon as he finished speaking, Rhysand’s knees buckled, dropping them both to the ground. Ice stung Feyre through her leathers, but she didn’t care. She wove her numb fingers into his hair, lifting her head to look into his face.

Feyre was not used to looking at him without feeling the mating bond tethering their minds together, always providing her with an inkling of what her mate was thinking, feeling. She didn’t need it now to see the warring anguish and relief and love glistening beneath the layer of unshed tears that collected at his lashes. He was doing a better job keeping them contained than she was. Feyre was only aware that her tears had begun slipping freely past her cheeks once he cupped her face in his large hands and swept his thumb across to chase them away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. For failing the mission, for leaving Azriel behind, for making Rhys worry.

He continued stroking her cheek in a gentle rhythm, slow and steady, as he scanned his eyes over her face, her dirty clothes. A shadow passed over his features, more of that anguish he couldn’t hide from her. Even without the bond.

“Azriel did precisely what I asked him to,” he said, voice rough. Cassian must have told him, then, or maybe he had drawn the memory from her mind. “We all knew the risks. He decided to make a sacrifice for his court and we…” he took a deep, shuddering breath that dispersed into a cloud of winter air. Then another. Like the next words were painful to him. “We will recuperate and move when the time is right.”

“They won’t kill him,” Cassian said, standing a small distance behind to offer them privacy. Snow crunched under his boots as he walked closer. “They’ll probably make the bastard wish he was dead, but they’ll keep him alive. He’s too valuable.”

It was far from comforting to imagine Azriel being tortured for information. Just the thought of what they might inflict on him, if it were even a sliver of what she’d seen him do to others, to the Attor. Feyre felt suddenly like she’d be sick.

Rhysand nodded grimly. “We’ll get him back. And Hybern will pay for every ounce of blood.” Then her mate was scooping her into his arms, standing in one smooth movement. “For now, I’m grateful that you’re safe.” He turned to Cassian and offered his brother a small, sad smile. “That you’re both safe.”

Cassian didn’t smile in turn, but he did reach his arm out to clasp Rhys firmly, and affectionately, on the shoulder. “Let’s go home,” he said, more like a plea than any of them would acknowledge.

They disappeared into a cloud of smoke, and soon the blistering alpine air gave way to the scent of burning oak crackling in a hearth. Rhys set Feyre down on the carpet in the foyer, though he quickly caught her hand to thread her fingers through his own, unable to resist touching her. She eyed the rooms flanking the foyer, taking in the familiar sights and smells of their home. The brine of the Sidra drifting through the open window, spices wafting from the open door that led to the kitchen, and… the scents of their family. Of Rhys, mostly, and his brothers. But she could also detect the soft, floral hint of Elain, the unyielding fire and steel of Nesta.

Feyre hesitated, peering towards the door to the sitting room, uncertain what version of her sisters waited for her. An Elain that stared absently out the window, a Nesta who was angry with the world?

She turned to her mate. “My sisters,” she said, quietly. “Are they…”

Rhysand nodded toward the sitting room. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

The distance between Feyre and that doorway felt suddenly like a gaping chasm. She stumbled before it, uncertain how to cross, but her sisters had already heard them come in. They rushed to wedge themselves into the doorframe—both of them, screeching to a halt on the other side of that great distance between them.

The seconds stretched into eternity as Feyre stared at her sisters and they stared back. Dressed in fae clothing, their eyes wide and ears upturned.

It was Elain who took the first step, as she always would in the unending push and pull of their sisterhood. The sea and the moon and the vast, all-seeing horizon that allowed them to meet in the middle. On occasion.

Elain ventured forward, stopping half way with her hand pressed to her lips to stifle a cry as she whispered, “We thought you were dead.”

Then it was Nesta, pushing onwards with Elain at her heel. Her lips were pressed together as she studied Feyre’s rumpled appearance. The braid that had faced battle then ocean then wind.

Feyre studied her back. Searching for any sense of that eerie power Nesta had taken from the Cauldron before.

“You look like Hell,” Nesta said.

Elain shot her a disapproving look. But Feyre understood what she meant: you look like you’ve been through a lot. And deeper under that, I was worried about you.

“You look…” Feyre swallowed. Her tears were already returning. “You look like yourselves.”

Not the sisters from before. Hollowed and aimless and angry at the world. They looked like the sisters she had known from this time, the ones who had been a bit more prepared for Prythian, who had thrown themselves into the Cauldron. For her.

“Thank you,” she said, before plummeting forward. Closing that final distance between them to throw her hands around both their shoulders. Nesta stiffened and Elain hugged her back fiercely and Feyre felt finally as if she’d accomplished something great in this timeline as she whispered, voice breaking, “I love you both.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she had said it to them. Had she ever?

They didn’t say it back, though Elain did hiccup softly, her fingers burying into Feyre’s shoulder. And that was okay. They didn’t need to say it, they had proved it. They had traded their humanity, overcame everything they’d once believed about the fae because she had turned up scared and honest at their doorstep.

Nesta gasped in her ear. Feyre pulled back, thinking that she was crying, but it wasn’t tears that swam in her eyes as she stared over Feyre’s shoulder.

It was something else.

“Nes…” Cassian said. The syllable eked out of him like weight shifting onto a creaky floorboard. There was no lightness to his voice. No humor.

The General of the Night Court staggered forward when his eyes met Nesta’s. Then he stopped, straightening as if remembering himself. Even with the soldier’s rigidity he forced into his spine, Feyre thought he still looked moments from dropping to his knees.

Nesta didn’t move to him. She stayed where she was, even after Feyre released her from the hug. Eyes so guarded, like distant fortresses of ice. She scraped them over Cassian, assessing him, tensing her body like she was preparing to defend, to attack. With her hair swept into an elegant braided crown, there was nothing to hide the delicate pointed tip of both her ears, nor the way Cassian’s eyes gravitated towards them.

He swallowed. Feyre had the sense that Nesta’s decision had been a sacrifice for more than just her sisters. And that Cassian’s reaction would define whether it had been worth it.

Finally he said, in that same strained voice, “Did you do something different with your hair?”

It wasn’t a complete transformation, but Nesta’s expression softened in response. She pushed past Feyre and Elain, moving with the same grace she had always possessed, though now it felt sharpened. All that lethal might and fluid grace that Nesta had been honing for years, finally contained in a body that could wield it properly. Growing into herself, the way a child grows into a pair of oversized gloves.

Cassian stood, a soldier at attention, as Nesta approached. Like he worried any sudden movement might ward her off. But the piercing look in her eyes, far from volatile or skittish, told Feyre that her sister would not be easily swayed from this path. She moved towards him with purpose, and Cassian met it unflinching—but more than that, awed. Overwhelmed. Feyre wondered if that was what she had looked like, the first time she’d seen the daylight after those months Under the Mountain. Or when she’d met Rhys, on Calanmai.

Like his world had ended and begun as Nesta raised a hand and placed it over his chest. Still, he didn’t move. Only watched, lips parted open, as Nesta pushed onto her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

That seemed to be his undoing.

Cassian’s posture crumpled, arms moving as if on impulse, finding Nesta’s waist to tug her closer. He bowed his head forward until it rested on her shoulder.

“Cass,” Nesta murmured. With a gentleness Feyre had only ever heard directed towards Elain.

“I just need a minute,” he said.

Rhys chose that moment to slip around them, looking harrowed himself as he herded Elain and Feyre quietly into the next room. Elain, who might usually have filled the silence with pleasantries, had an aimless look about her as she claimed an armchair by the window.

Feyre admired the way ribbons of moonlight poured over her sister’s features from the large window that overlooked the city, shining like a polish against her ivory skin. There was no denying that Elain’s ethereal beauty had only been heightened by the transformation. But for a moment all Feyre could see were brown eyes, once hollow, staring vacantly towards the city. In the back of her mind, she could hear Elain whispering, we were supposed to be married next week.

Feyre couldn’t resist asking. “Are you happy with it? Your choice.”

Elain turned, blinking rapidly like she’d been startled back into her body. Then those warm eyes focused on Feyre, and she offered a small smile.

“It feels…” Elain started thoughtfully, flickering her attention to the tips of her fingers as she stretched her arm outwards. “It feels familiar in a way I don’t know how to explain. It’s a little overwhelming, but even so… I feel settled. Like I am one step closer to knowing myself.”

Her eyes turned back toward the city, lips curling downwards.

“I can hear his heart,” Elain said. The admission was so quiet that Feyre wondered if she should be hearing it, until Elain turned back to her, eyes wide with concern. “Is that normal, for mates?”

“I…” Feyre looked towards Rhys for guidance. She could hear his heart often, but not once he was in another room, let alone a different Court. Did that mean the Cauldron had granted Elain Sight once more? Or was it simply a unique quality of her bond with Lucien?

Elain’s eyes turned glassy. She pressed her hand to her chest, like she could feel it now. “I’ve been listening for him, but that’s all I hear.”

“If you can hear his heartbeat, that means he’s safe,” Feyre said, sympathetic. “And if you hear or see anything else that might be helpful, let us know.”

Her sister nodded, before turning back towards the window. Feyre wondered if it had been difficult witnessing Nesta’s reunion with Cassian. Cauldron knew how long it would be until Elain could have that moment with Lucien.

“Go rest,” Elain said, drawing her legs up into her chest. “I take it you’ve had a long journey. Your mate has been worrying a hole into every inch of this carpet.”

Rhys, behind her, scraped out a laugh for Elain’s benefit, but it was weighed down. He had been so patient in letting her have this moment with her sisters, knowing Feyre needed the reassurance that they were okay. But Rhysand wasn’t—nor were his brothers. A cautious look over her shoulder showed her mate’s face, edged towards a devastation she knew he was trying very hard to contain. It had always been easier when it was his own life at stake, but now they had so many people to protect. So many to lose.

Was this their fate? That one trio of siblings would always be fractured? Feyre tried not to dwell on that as she took her mate by the hand, leaving Elain in the sitting room with an apologetic grimace. Elain looked like she appreciated the privacy, anyhow.

With Feyre’s magic still dormant and Rhysand passive beneath her guidance, they walked to their bedroom the human way. Step by step, with none of the urgency they normally possessed. Even without their bond, she could sense her mate retreating into his mind. Perhaps he was relishing in the absent bridge between their minds, so that this anguish could remain his own. She wondered what she would find. A howling void, if it were anything like what she felt watching her sisters go into the Cauldron. A raging, dark tempest.

She decided not to interrupt the silence, merely guiding her mate to the bed. He was pliant as she arranged them, coaxing his head to her chest, hoping that even in the dark recesses of his mind he would hear her heartbeat and know she was with him.

There was no magic to comfort, no darkness or starlight or wings she could wrap him in. Just her arms, her scent, her wordless love. It wouldn’t be enough to soothe the pain of what he lost, but it was all they had to hold onto. So Feyre stroked her fingers through his silken hair and Rhysand held her back, tightly. Holding each other in silence for minutes, or hours.

And eventually he murmured, “I know what I need to do, as a High Lord. But I feel lost on what to do, as a brother. It would make me a damned fool to try and break him out of Hybern. But all I want to do is go back there and bargain my own life for his, if that’s what it takes.”

“He would be furious if you did,” Feyre said.

“I know. And I know that this is how they felt, all those years I was Under the Mountain.”

“But you came back,” she whispered. “Against all hope, all odds. They got you back. And we’ll get Az back, too.”

Rhysand nodded absently. Feyre wondered if he’d heard her at all as his jaw worked, restraining all that black, vicious anger that lived behind his eyes. She could already see him calculating, trying to determine the best route forward. A glimpse of the boy from Windhaven, bloodied and bruised, pulling himself up to get back in the training ring.

For his brothers, she knew he would keep getting back in. Again and again and again. As many times as it took. And this time, he wouldn’t be going in alone.

Feyre woke to the sun breaking through the curtains, arriving steadily, just as it had every morning since the moment she woke up in the Spring Court. Even now, its warm rays broke through the frost crawling over the window pane, reaching towards Feyre and her slumbering mate to say, get up.

This was the hardest part—getting back up.

It wasn’t enough to face the wreckage once. To let it be done. They had to pull themselves together and face it again. And again. Every day, pulling them steadily towards that inevitable convergence.

At least her mate was with her. Strong arms, banded securely across her waist. They were tangled, Rhysand’s face pressed into her chest, his inky hair spilling over her shoulder, her collarbone. She had been worried he wouldn’t sleep through the night. Or worse, that he would have left, flown all the way back to Hybern to fight for Azriel.

But he was there, bathed lovingly in the sunlight. His chest rose as he took a slow breath, reminding her to do the same. She needed to be strong for him. For all of them. Inhale. Like Cassian had taught her. Exhale.

Feyre pushed her fingers through Rhysand’s hair, scraping her nails gently against his scalp to wake him. She felt guilty doing so, to force him back into this cruel reality when he looked so peaceful in his sleep.

Violet eyes peeled open. He blinked at her, then shut them, arms tightening around her. Resisting. Feyre took another deep breath, continued stroking her fingers through his hair until he relaxed, until he raised his head and murmured a hoarse, “Good morning, darling.”

It didn’t feel like a good morning.

Feyre didn’t realize she’d said it down the bond until she heard the soft caress of his laughter, more restrained than usual, though it still made her chest flutter. I suppose your magic is back.

Her magic, but more importantly, their bond. She knew he felt as relieved to have it back as she did, because Feyre kissed him and he sighed. Rhys kissed her back fiercely, reaching down the bond so he could hold her there, too. This at least made sense to their bodies. This, at least, felt good. Reminded them that they were alive, and that the glowing thread Feyre could feel shimmering between them once again was something that no one could take away. Not Amarantha, not Hybern, not even the Cauldron.

She opened her mind to him, letting their minds entwine in tandem with their bodies. They made love beneath the beaconing dawn, every touch aimed to comfort, to reassure, to lend the strength they needed to get back up together.

It was midmorning by the time they made it to the breakfast table, hand in hand, uncertain who was pulling who. The others had already assembled, gathered around the dining table, silent as they picked at a plate of fresh pastries that Feyre could guess Elain had gotten up early to make.

Mor was there, staring at her uneaten pastry. She raised her head as they came in, red-rimmed eyes meeting Feyre’s. She offered a tight smile that was much closer to a grimace. Miryam was on the bench beside her, looking in much better health than Feyre had last seen her. That, at least, was reassuring.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Miryam said, suppressing a shiver. “I never want to feel magic like that again.”

That much, they could agree on. Though Feyre knew as she flitted her eyes to her sisters, sat together on the opposite side of the table, that they would need to feel that magic again. Very soon.

“We were all worried sick about you,” Mor added, surprising Feyre by reaching for her arm. She offered an affectionate squeeze—forgiveness, or perhaps an apology. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

She meant it, too. Even if the sorrow in Mor’s eyes made Feyre wish she were drowning again.

“Where’s Cass?” Rhysand asked, causing them all to stiffen at his tone.

“He wasn’t at the House of Wind this morning,” Mor said with a shrug. “I assumed he was—” with Nesta. Mor didn’t need to say it. The way she pressed her lips together, glancing towards Feyre’s eldest sister, said enough.

“I haven’t seen him since last night,” Nesta said, words razor sharp at the unspoken accusation. She grabbed a pastry, playing at indifference as she ripped a chunk of it away. “He said that he needed to leave. I thought he was going back to the war camp.”

Rhysand swore. Mor stood up, a hand over her mouth.

“He wouldn’t,” she said, face turning ashen.

Nesta’s eyes flickered between Mor and Rhysand, some of that anger curbing. Her brows pushed in, worrying at that small piece of pastry between her fingers until it was reduced to crumbs.

Rhys disappeared before anyone could discuss going with him—and that finally pulled Feyre out of her shock. She reached towards the space her mate had just occupied, lips parting open. Then closing. He was… gone.

“Oh, these stupid, impulsive Illryians!” Mor shouted, shaking the table as she slammed her hands against it. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

“What happened?” Nesta asked with a viciousness that was more fae-like than she probably even realized.

Feyre rubbed her temples. She reached for Rhys, scrambling against his mental walls. They stood firmly in place, allowing nothing to slip through.

“Cassian went after Azriel,” Mor said. “And now Rhys has gone after them both.”

I’m not mad, Feyre said down the bond. How could she be, when both of his brothers were in danger? But please, please, be smart. Be safe. Come home to me.

“When did he leave?” Mor demanded.

“It was the middle of the night,” Nesta said, more retreated. She wrapped her arms around her chest, face burning as she added, “Two o’clock—maybe three.”

He would have needed to fly all night, to have gotten to Hybern. After having already done so much flying. What was he thinking? By the time he got to the island, he’d be too exhausted to fight.

Feyre debated going after them. The two of them alone, against Hybern’s men and his magic and the Cauldron. She started pacing, weighing the best strategy, trying to think like her mate—even if he, himself, wasn’t thinking practically. The troops were already stationed in Summer, maybe they could advance. No. The Cauldron at full force would wipe out too many of them.

She felt well and truly like she was on the verge of a breakdown by the time her mate reappeared with Cassian slumped over his shoulders. A rush of darkness brushed everything off the table, sending the plates crashing to the wooden floor. Rhys heaved Cassian onto his back atop the table, who groaned.

“You stupid prick!” Rhys snarled, grabbing him by the collar and shaking. “What were you thinking?”

Cassian’s wings splayed out, covering almost the entire width of the dining room. They were littered with arrows, dripping blood and salty water onto the floor.

“I needed to get him back,” Cassian said through gritted teeth. His face was pinched, dirt sticking to his cheek and brow. Feyre felt everything go quiet as she surveyed his labored, wet breathing and her eyes dipped to the split flesh arching up from his navel to the bottom of his sternum—too deep for Rhysand to heal, though Feyre could see he was trying.

“Get Madja,” Rhys said to Mor.

It was a stone cold, unfeeling command. Rage was seeping out of her mate in dark tendrils, coiling through the room until even the sunlight dimmed.

Feyre swayed. Unprepared for the sight of the gore and the fear it struck deep inside her. Somewhere far in the back of her mind, she was aware of Mor rushing out of the room, of Elain and Miryam following.

A hand closed tightly around her elbow. Nesta, watching with her lips pressed together as Rhys moved his hands over Cassian, trying to stave off the blood. Bile surged in Feyre’s throat at the sight of that raw flesh. Her bones creaked beneath Nesta’s grip.

“Do you think I didn’t want to go after him too?” Rhys was saying, teeth bared. His hands were covered in blood—so much blood. “Do you think I don’t know what they’re going to do to him?”

“You’re needed… here,” Cassian choked, the words mostly gargled. “I’m just—a soldier.”

“Just a soldier?” Rhys echoed, all that lethal anger sharpening. Even on the brink of consciousness, Feyre could see Cassian stiffen. “You are my brother. You are my general. I can’t…” Rhysand’s voice softened as he watched Cassian’s eyelids flutter shut. “I can’t do this without you. So you better not die, you fucking bastard. That’s an order.”

Cassian huffed, the only indication he was still conscious.

In the distance, Feyre could hear the door open. Then Madja rushed in, Mor at her heels. Rhys moved aside to let the healer take stock of the wounds. Madja was frowning, but her expression was not so grave that Feyre worried he wouldn’t make it.

She went to work quickly, brows bunching in concentration as her hands flared with glowing white light. They all fell into silence as they watched Madja work, their attention fixed on the healer’s every movement as her hands roamed over Cassian’s body. The lips of the wounds, mercifully, began to reach towards each other, knitting shut.

“Is…” Nesta bit her lip. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Madja said. Nesta’s shoulders sagged. “He’ll need a few days rest. No training. Or flying.” She scowled at the red line across his stomach. “Or throwing himself in front of swords.”

“What happened?” Feyre asked, turning to Rhys.

His anger hadn’t curbed. She could still see it simmering in his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. “He didn’t even make it to land before they shot him down.” Feyre’s eyes fell back to those arrows through his wings. “He landed on the Northernmost peak, who knows how long he’d been fighting before I got there. The bastard had that wound in his gut and was still taking men down. They pushed him off the cliff just as I got there.”

And indeed, looking at her mate she could see his wet hair hanging down his face. He trekked sand and seawater across the dining room as he came to stand in front of her. His eyes glowed, like lightning had struck an ocean. Nesta’s eyes fell to the blood on his hands.

Feyre asked, softly, Are you angry that Cassian got hurt? Or that you weren’t the one who went after Az?

Her mate stared. Jaw clenched. Say what you mean.

That tone. The cold rage, the sharpness. Feyre wasn’t used to hearing it directed towards her.

She brushed her mind against his, gentle. Are you angry at Cassian, or yourself?

Rhysand looked away, which was all the answer she needed.

Come, Feyre murmured, grabbing one of his blood-crusted hands. Rhys flinched. Let’s get you cleaned up, and leave Madja to her work.

It was all of a week before Cassian was well enough to join the morning training sessions. Feyre was grateful he was healed for a multitude of reasons, among them being that she finally had company on the training ring.

Convincing Rhys to join her in the last week had been… difficult. He and Cassian had quickly made up, but every day that passed weighed on him. It was another day that Azriel was in Hybern’s hands, subjected to the King’s will.

Her mate was restless—they all were.

“I’m surprised you were able to sneak past Nesta,” Feyre said in greeting.

Cassian grinned as he strolled into the ring, flexing his arms. “Who would've thought a flesh wound would be enough to earn this much attention?”

A flesh wound was a mild way of putting it, Feyre thought. And Nesta had certainly been attentive. Though her sister would deny it, Feyre didn’t think she’d seen Nesta leave his side for the duration of his bedrest.

“I assume it’s too soon to practice with swords,” she teased, reaching for a pair of fighting sticks.

“Depends on who will be swinging them,” Cassian said. “I trust you not to gut me.”

Feyre lobbed one of the sticks at him and he deftly reached out to catch it in midair.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” she teased. “You did take the last pastry at breakfast.”

“Oh?” Cassian dropped into a fighting stance, spinning the stick expertly around his knuckles. “Come get even then, High Lady.”

Just as Feyre was about to charge, the center of the ring erupted into darkness, and out stepped Rhys. He was frowning, a letter crushed in his fist.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked, drawing up short.

Rhys passed the letter to him, saying, “Eris Vanserra has requested an immediate audience. He says that the Autumn Court has Azriel, and they’re willing to negotiate a trade.”

[anaisimoo]

wintertime relay race

hello, @protectingourfuture! i am your secret santa in @codesecretsanta's game and, before you start reading, i need to make two things clear: one, i never understood how timezones work, so i really hope i'm posting this on time. two, english is not my first language, so i hope you can forgive any awkward mistakes.

i really, really hope you like it!! i had a lot of fun writing for you.

As soon as the last kernel popped inside of Yumi’s microwave, a timer set off inside her head. She almost slammed the door shut, using the very last second to yell out.

“Maïtena from school left her books here! It’ll just be a minute!” Her backpack, with all her books, of course, rested unopened on top of her bed.

Her thick boots kept her from slipping on the icy pavement that led to the academy — she even dared to glide across it, just as she’d done that very morning. When she crawled under the gate, through the growing space almost hidden by the brushwood, she couldn’t help but stiffen a laugh.

“Already the second time I have had to sneak in here today…”, she explained to Jeremie. The boy, in the warmest of his brown pyjamas and beige wellingtons to match, looked down upon her with the question tinting his face. She hadn’t even put on a coat, and, from Jeremie’s perspective, she was just a face and an arm blossoming from the snowy hedges — undoubtedly for him, too much of a cold and uncomfortable position to laugh in. “They should just turn this into an official entrance.” And with the proposition, a wave goodbye and a carried-out exchange, the girl disappeared under the bushes the same way she had appeared.

Jeremie started now his sprint, bag in his hand. He seemed confident enough for the first few turns, or perhaps too focused on not getting caught to notice his own exhaustion, but as soon as he crossed the finish line —the threshold of the dorms’ building— he allowed himself a quick breath. The popcorns were certainly colder than when he’d gotten them, where they were already lukewarm at best, with the horrible weather, rather than his running stamina, being to blame. He climbed carefully up the stairs, his soaked boots threatening to make him slip at any second, and finally made his way to his room. Quickly, he disposed of his boots and donned warm socks, leaving the popcorn bag on top of his tower all the while. It had been running one of its many test programmes for Aelita’s materialization all evening, and its heat could very well cook the popcorn itself. When he grabbed them again, the bag, at the very least, was considerably warmer.

He then knocked on the door a few rooms down, where he was greeted by a boy with eyebags as dark as his hair. Without the need to exchange a word, luckily for both of them, he turned the popcorn in and marched away towards the warmth of his room, or, perhaps, that of the showers. Either way, Ulrich dismissed him with a playful military salute and turned to his own ordeal.

“Was that the priest, Ulrich? Please, tell me he was here to give me the last sacraments…” A voice moaned inside his room.

“For the last time, Odd, you have a cold. It’s not even the flu or anything, you were just fine while fighting this very morning!” He retorted.

“Oh… Fighting… How I miss it… Do you think I’ll be able to go back to Lyoko ever again?”

The voice came from under a suffocating mountain of blankets and heating pads. One could have had trouble recognizing it if they hadn’t spent the entire evening answering to its requests and wailing. As the only answer to his question, Ulrich threw himself on top of the blankets and ignored the “ouch!” and the canine cry that came out.

“Jeremie brought Yumi’s popcorn. Now move over and tell Kiwi to do the same, I want to watch the movie as well.”

Grumbling, the entire mass of cloth rolled over, offering a single breach for Ulrich to crawl in. The tiny space, already populated by one sick Odd and an equally ailing Kiwi, would have been too hot to bear for almost anyone who hadn’t spent the last nights at Kadic Academy. Despite everyone’s complaints about the cold, Delmas had stated that he wasn’t going to turn the heating on until the first day of winter, which was still a few days away. Thus, Ulrich couldn’t help but be grateful about the sweat that started coating his forehead as soon as he opened the popcorn. He took a handful of them before turning the bag to his starving friend.

“What are we watching?”, he then asked.

“I don’t know”. Odd shrugged and blew his nose into one of the blankets. “Some war film.”

“You really are sick”, exclaimed Ulrich. Odd hadn’t bothered to explain the plot from beginning to end, stopping only to point out every movie he knew every actor from and then explaining the plot to that movie, “some war film” felt to him as a confirmation that the world was ending.

He placed his palm against Odd’s forehead, trying to feel any possible signs of a fever. Odd let himself lean on the hand, as if almost falling asleep on it —the unusual comfort of his friend’s hand was certainly soothing— and it was now Ulrich’s time to joke.

“’Some war film’ sounds incredibly boring”, he said, hiding a half smile. “We might as well watch that new Polar Express movie again.”

Odd seemed to come back to life for a second.

“Over my dead body! I find motion capture animation disturbing, Ulrich, you know it!”

“Alright, alright!” Ulrich put his arms up in defence, always pleased to get a rise out of his friend. “And I suppose you don’t want any of those… Clueless, Hearthers versions that have been coming out this year.”

“Not today”, he sighed. “I need to have my full mental powers to appreciate the finesse of most of those.”

“And how about…”

“Ulrich,” Odd cut him off, sounding more serene than he had the entire day “I actually want to watch ‘some war film’.”

“Oh… alright” Ulrich mumbled, almost caught off guard by the apparent and sudden improvement.

“And I’m sick, so you have to watch it as well” he added cheerfully, coughing into the blankets again. “Also, no complaining! You have to pretend you like it.”

And just like that, Odd went back to his cuddling position around Kiwi, who ended up fleeing from the scorching heat after only a few minutes. Ulrich didn’t wait for his friend to complain once more —this time, Ulrich would admit, with the right to do so— before throwing his arm around his shoulders, dragging them closer. Odd had his reddened eyes glued to the screen, breathing in every second of the film; Ulrich, instead, could only look at him, a single question on his mind.

“Have you been blowing your nose on my blanket?”

[hazel-of-sodor]

Something Holy This Way Comes

Ch.10 What You have Unleashed

Other Stories

Other Chapters

Mali flailed in the endless void, her lungs burning for air, even as she felt frost crawl across her body in seconds. It was too dark to see her hands in front of her face, yet somehow she could see through them to see countless eyes watching her, more eyes than there were stars in the sky, surrounded by even more teeth. Her very being shook under the weight of Screech's attention on her. Tendrils stretched out for her, only to slide through as her physical form began to unmake itself from the weight of her presence.

What felt like wings caught her, shielding her from the sight of the void, but Mali knew it wouldn't matter. A human was not meant to see this and continue to exist much less survive.

Screech growled around her at that thought, and the part of Mali that wasn't panicking found itself unsurprised Screech could hear her thoughts. She was quite literally in Screech's soul, her very being.

She felt Screech work desperately, trying to weave her back together as she unraveled, but that only made her unravel faster. A flicker of thought and suddenly she could breathe again as Screech rewrote her reality so she could breathe.

Mali knew it would only buy them seconds, no matter what Screech changed, Mali was a living mortal. Nothing of her existence was meant to withstand the sight of Screech, much less the full pressure of her being. She hoped Screech knew this wasn't her fault.

She felt Screech howl in denial as the threads holding her together began to fray, slipping through the eldritch titan's grasp like water through her hands.

A whistle shattered outwards.

Golden light suddenly burned across Screech's mindscape as the Lady's Champion intervened.

Golden threads of steel wound themselves around Mali's shattered being and Screech's tendrils alike, sewing them together. Mali felt the weight of Screech's focus as she watched Caomhnóir work. It felt like being plunged beneath a waterfall of midnight as Screech's tendrils dove in, working with the golden light to stitch her back together.

It felt like hours, but was probably seconds, before the two cautiously pulled away from Mali's being. Mali took a breath, Screech's shadows flowing in and out as easily as the air.

'Are you okay?'

Screech's words still fell like the hammers used to shape the mountains, but now the force moved through her rather than striking her.

'I'm not sure.' Mali winced at the sound of her mental voice, so she had been screaming.

'The Lady says she's fine as we can make her,' Cassandra said, her voice within Screech's mind sounding like starlight.

She paused for a moment listening to something neither eldritch beast or young woman could hear.

'She apologizes that this was the best we could do. Had she intervened directly she could have accidentally destroyed Screech.’

The two processed the implications of the Guardian's statement for a moment.

'And what is...this?' Mali asked hesitantly.

'We had to weave your soul with my own...I am sorry.'

Mali had never heard Screech sound guilty before, she quickly decided she didn't care for it. She stroked a hand along the wings still shielding her.

'So I'm partly like you now.'

'...yes. You are no longer human. Not entirely.'

Mali hugged the wing around her, 'Well then I guess you're not getting rid of me anything soon Miss Screech.'

'...you are not angry?"

Mali let out a sigh. 'Not at you. I can't say I'm happy about any of this, but you saved me by giving up part of your own soul to fix mine...that won't hurt you will it?'

'It won't,' Cassandra assured, 'Souls cannot be divided in that way. Screech still has a whole soul despite giving you part of herself. Now let's see about getting you back to the living world.'

Mali's eyes shot wide, 'wait, how long has it been?'

'Only seconds.' Screech said. 'Time flows differently here.'

***

Freda was running the second Mali had disappeared, barely stopping herself as a shadow appeared in front of her.

Freda instinctively caught Mali as she fell from the shadow, the girl immediately retching shadows. Gywn, only a heartbeat behind, helped move Mali back behind the engines as they turned their attention to the creature.

The creature roared defiantly, shaking the ground as they frantically checked the girl over. Shadows much like Screech's own wreathed her head, flicking anxiously. Her nose was bleeding, and her breathing was ragged.

Screech answered the creature's roar with one of her own. The sky shook with her rage, the trees nearest her were ripped from the ground, roots and all.

Freda knew that if Caomhnóir had not been shielding them with her golden light, the force of the roar would have been enough to kill them.

Said tank engine's whistle joined Screech's roar, but it sounded different. It was higher pitched, shriller. The creature recoiled at the sound and Freda got her first good look at its form. It was made of scrap metal and refuse, its skull was long and thin, filled to the brim with thick jagged teeth made from gears. A short powerful neck flowed into broad shoulders, its front limbs far taller than its back, tipped with rusted claws that were once excavator scoops. A short but thick tail made from a wrecking crane swung angrily. It growled angrily at Caomhnóir crouching low, preparing to pounce.

A golden wall appeared between the humans and the engines, part of a mighty dome shimmering brightly in the night, allowing Screech to unfurl. Even behind the barrier, the temperature dropped severely, frost racing up the trees around them, only the golden light around them keeping it at bay.

Within the dome, the air fractured as reality warped under the weight of the Eldritch presence. Screech's tendrils rose higher and higher, scraping against the top of the dome, blotting out the stars.

Alongside her Cassandra's lining and brass glowed with the might of the sun as the Lady's Champion called upon her full might.

Gywn pulled Freda and Mali to his chest, looking in concern as shadows bled from her closed eyes like wings, green light spilling through even while closed.

For a long moment, the creature and engines sized each other up. Finally Screech spoke.

"You should not have touched one who was MINE," both her voice and the ground shook from her rage.

The creature gave a defiant cry and lunged, only to be slammed aside by her tendrils, landing hard on its side, only to scream as Caomhnóir's lamps spilled golden burning light onto its head, melting steel and iron in seconds.

The creature rolled with a snarl, landing on its feet with surprising speed, lunging for the tank engine. 

It wasn't fast enough. 

Caomhnóir shot forward, zipping through one fracture, only to appear behind the creature through another, blasting the creature's leg with golden light.

As the creature howled its rage and pain, Robert came jogging through the trees, seemingly unaware of his jacket smoking from the heat of Cassandra's light.

"Never a dull moment." He said, grinning ear to ear.

On the other side of the barrier, the creature whirled around to snap at Caomhnóir, only to be batted away by Screech. It slammed into the barrier with a thud, but immediately was back up charging at Screech. The Earth rocked as the Eldritch Titan met the charge head-on, tendrils crushing steel like a blow from Thor's hammer

"Are you alright?" Freda had to almost scream to be heard of the clash of steel, steam, and shadow. 

"Never better," Robert replied cheerfully, "Cass got me out before she really let go."

Said tank engine lunged through a fracture to bite the Creature's tail. Shining gold cracks shot outwards from the bite like holy lightning with the thunder of a cracking glacier.

The Creature spun to bat at her with a pained growl, only for Screech's tendrils to lash around the arm and break it with a sickening snap.

Freda and Gywn covered their ears at the creatures' scream, but Mali and Robert seemed unaffected.

Mali's ragged breathing had slowed, and her eyes opened, revealing a shining emerald light, one of her new hair-like tendrils squeezing Freda's hand.

The creature attempted to surprise Screech by swinging its tail at her, only for Screech to grab said appendage and use it to slam the creature into the ground on her other side. Caomhnóir taking the opportunity to blast its face with her lantern's light.

The Creature yanked itself free of Screech's grip and staggered back. It looked far worse for wear. Its face bled molten steel, and one of the spotlights that formed its eyes had been shattered under the heat of holy light. One of its arms hung awkwardly from where Screech had snapped it. All across its body rusted gouges stretched from Screech's blows, while other parts glowed molten red from Caomhnóir's.

Eldritch Horror and Holy Guardian screamed out whistles in unison, and far above her head Freda witnessed the stars shake.  

Miss Morgan came running from the direction of Lloergan, stumbling as the ground shook.

"What the bloody devil is that!?" She swore as she scrambled over to the humans huddled behind a fallen tree.

"Something that picked the wrong fight," Robert shouted dryly.

The Creature flung a pile of scrap at Screech, only to stumble as the titan ripped reality apart in front of her so that the pile slammed into the creature's own head.

It tried to right itself, only for Screech to sweep its feet out from under it. It roared in rage as the Guardian took the chance to bite its injured arm, golden light bursting from the cracks.

It ripped its arm back angrily, but Caomhnóir's grip was true, and a portion of the arm remained locked between her teeth, turning to golden rust as she shook her head like a terrier with a rat. The creature, enraged beyond thought or reason lunged at the tank engine.

It never made it.

Screech lunged forward, locking her jaws onto the other arm, biting deeply.

The Creature shrieked as rust and decay shot out from the bite, withering the arm as if centuries were passing in seconds. It swung its broken arm towards her in a desperate attempt to shake her off, but Cassandra dove through a fracture and clamped her own jaws around the limb, pulling it back through the fracture with her.

The creature was pulled taunt between the two engines, bellowing as it was pulled across the tear in reality, its body beginning to crumple under the pressure.

"You need to cover your ears." Mali managed to rasp out, somehow audible over the battle.

Even as the humans did just that, Caomhnóir's whistle shattered the night air, joined by Screech's distinctive howl. The creature began to lift into the air, even against the might of the two engines pulling it apart. It screeched in rage, pain, and denial as it began to shake from the force of the whistles.

The whistles grew louder and louder, until they filled the air. Freda couldn't think, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe for the weight of their sound.

Cracks spread across the creature's form like frost over a window. It thrashed, twisted, snapped, and struggled, but the engines' grip was unyielding.

Just as Freda was sure her body would fail under the pressure, the creature shattered with a shrieking cry.

Thousands upon millions of metal shards rain out against the barrier, a golden shockwave tinged with shadows basting outward from the creature's heart hitting the barrier with a bell-like sound.

Even as the pieces fell, they crumbled to ash beneath the onslaught.

The Engine Who Escaped Death and the Lady's Champion let out screaming whistles in unison once more, proclaiming their victory to the heavens, before the world finally fell silent once more.

A/N: Hey Loves! I was so excited waiting for this and the previous chapter to drop, and I loved reading all Y'alls replys here and elsewhere. As you can guess, the next several chapters will be dealing with the fallout of these two. Love Y'all!

[brawlingdiscontent]

Took @widgenstain’s invitation and tagged myself in this meme! Thank you! (Because it’s a lot more appealing than my revisions right now). This was super fun and also hard--I’m glad my url is long!

Spell your URL only using song names

B - Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

R - Rasputin - Boney M 

A - Alejandro - Lady Gaga

W - Willow  - Taylor Swift (narrowly beat out ABBA’s Waterloo) 

L - LA Devotee - Panic at the Disco! (had to have a PATD! song here, if only because of how central it was to my youth)

I - In the Bleak Midwinter - Gustav Holst (I like how sad it makes me feel!)

N - No Scrubs - TLC (this song forever!!!!)

G - Genghis Khan - Miike Snow (bonus points for the music video!)

D - Danzon #2 - Arturo Marquez

I - I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston

S - Send in the Clowns - Stephen Sondheim (linking to the Judi Dench version because she is the queen - also the delicate balance of the light tone of the lyrics and Desiree’s pain *chef’s kiss*)

C - Case of the Ex - Mya (WHAT IS IT THAT SHE WANTS???)

O - Only Murders in the Building Theme Tune (It’s such a bop! Also I did not expect to really love this show)

N - New Rules - Dua Lipa

T - Truth Hurts  - Lizzo 

E - Ex’s and Oh’s - Elle King 

N - Nine to Five - Dolly Parton (a beautiful socialist anthem AND a bop!

T - Think About Things - Daði og Gagnamagnið (felt the need to end thins off silly)

What does this reveal about me as a person? I had so much fun, and now I’m going to try to bribe myself with this playlist to get my revisions done.

I’m actually going to tag some people this time! No pressure folks I tagged, and others please feel to tag yourself! Tagging: @gerec @akasanata, @duchessofvodka and @subtilior

[always-anxious-skychild]

The same story, just a different point of view.

Inspired by @faux-lights piece, with a little cameo from @skykid-kat and @justsomeectoplasm OCs.

---------

The whispers turned harsh and surprised when the star’s direction became clear. Such a path had not been seen in quite some time, after all. The Children of the Light who cared enough to pay attention to the falling star turned their gazes to the mountain and its storm.

Somewhere, someone with dark eyes and branching horns was approached with urgent news.

-------

“Kari! Kari! Have you seen it?”

“Seen what, little postman?”

“The falling star in the skies! I don’t think it’s going to fall in Wasteland like I did.”

-------

“Tell me, how fast your birds can deliver a message?”

“Hmmm, that depends, Kari. A message about what? And to whom?”

--------

“Kleio, good morning! This is a surprise. Usually, I visit you-”

“Now is not the time, Silas. Do you know where Horizon is?”

--------

“Horizon. Listen to me…”

.

.

.

---------

The Eye of Eden never changes.

Red skies bleed through the skies, filling the area with eternal dread and hopelessness. Everywhere burning crystals grew from the ground and as if it wasn’t enough, the howling winds brought an endless amount more. Inlaid in the place are many statues of fallen souls. Horizon wished he could save them like the children of the light can. Alas, he can only bring lost souls to the skies, not the ones trapped in this hellish place.

Despite his birthplace, this place was never kind to him, was never kind to anyone, and will never be. That’s why…

“There’s a star falling towards Eden right now.”

The moment he heard those words from his friend Silas, he flew off. And before he knew it, he was back where he started. Memories came rushing back as he stepped inside the eye. For all of its brightness and brilliance, the diamond only showed them its anger and hatred. He remembered how empty they were that day, letting the rocks hurt them and hoping all the pain will end soon. It wasn’t until a voice beckoned them to move that they saw light, a small ray of hope. A hand of the Hermit outreached to them and it took every of their willpower to crawl towards it, to their only escape, and grabbed it.

And now history is repeating itself.

.

.

.

As expected, there was a crash landing.

But the little star was missing.

Another thunder came and Horizon was forced to immediately jump behind the pillar to protect himself. Crystals shattered around him into biting shards. While those red rocks cannot burn him, there are deadly enough when raining in high speeds. He couldn’t help but glare at the diamond, letting out a certain string of words. The rain of rocks is certainly growing stronger, more dangerous, at this point.

So where?

Where are they?

Where-?

Crying.

He heard it. There was someone crying from a distance. Horizon didn’t wait for the rain to fully cease. He took off running, towards to the sounds of quiet sobbing. Not even as the rain began cutting his body and cape did he stop running. Not even when he tripped did he stop from standing up again. Not even the threatening thundering roar made him stop. His footsteps splashed on the cold puddles until he reached the source.

And under a debris was a mothling.

Horizon sighed in relief at the sight of them.

“Hello,” he said, not able to hide the concern in his voice.

The moth did not respond.

He tried smiling, tried lifting up the mood despite the dreadful atmosphere. “My name is Horizon. It’s nice to meet you.”

It seemed to worked. They slowly curled out themself from their hiding place. However, Horizon caught them wincing, clutching their head in pain. His eyes widened as he noticed their horns, or specifically, the remaining one.

“Your horn… what happened to it?” He then realized, “you’re hurt.”

“I—” the sky child began, their voice high and quavery with fear and pain. “I want… to leave. Out. Please.”

Horizon nodded. And with one hand, he reached to the moth. Just like how the Hermit did before with him.

History was repeating itself.

Just like before, they, too, took it.

Horizon wasted no time. Wrapping around their cape, he carried them tightly into their arms. The moth buried their face on their chest, shivering in fear and tears falling. Despite the rain growing stronger and the winds growing louder, Horizon was more determined to save them.

“No worry. I’ll get us out of here.”

“The whole world isn’t like this.”

“There is such a beautiful world outside of this place, waiting for you to explore.”

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“I promise.”

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴

Mark Lee

so we all know mark is a quite expressive person with his emotions

and come on when playing video games we all rage and throw fits so emotions are running especially high ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

what i’m trying to say is that mark is yelling, banging fists against his desk, laughing his ass off and pissing you off

i mean mark’s laugh is very cute and ENTIRE BLESSING TO HEAR but ♡ sleep ♡ is also precious 

but mark can’t hear your exaggerated sighs nor see your ever-lasting pout

so you lift your tired self from the bed and plop down on his lap

mark : “hUH??¿¿ B-BABE?!¿¿” （＊〇□〇）……！

haechan, audible through the headphones: mark, not in front of the boys, you wild beast (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)

mark opens his mouth to shout in protest but you bury your head in his shoulder and let out a soft whine and mark.just.COMBUSTS!!!

he grumbles something about how haechan is due for a good beating and nuzzles the side of his face against the top of your head  ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

whenever he has a break and doesn’t need both hands to play, he brings one arm around you, cuddling you closer to himself and running his hand along the length of your spine

or just LAYS HIS HAND ON YOUR THIGH askfafwsr- ya know (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)

doesn’t have the heart to break the atmsophere even after he shuts down his computer and just cocoons you in his warm arms and hums a song softly as you doze off intertwined together UwU

Huang Renjun

you’re just trying to be cute and create a romantic enviroment as you cuddle up to your boyfriend who is immersed in his game

“y/n?” his voice is soft, almost a hush and it could almost lull you to sleep

“yeah?” ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

“i can’t see because of your head”

FIRST HIT HOME but you didn’t give up of course, just flattened your cheek against his shoulder to accomodate his complaint 

just as you settle downs drowsily, glued to his frint, he covers his mic to grumble to you again  ಠ╭╮ಠ

“it’s getting hot” 

SECOND HIT HOME and you’re starting to get discouraged as you scoot a little further away from his body and loosen the grip of your hands around his neck (๑′°︿°๑)

but of course ever grumpy renjun still had complaints karen who

“my legs are falling asleep” 

*SIGH* “eye roll* *definetely not pouting* you start pulling yourself away from him and trudge defeatedly and bury yourself under a ton of blankets

but he just chickles, has the AUDACITY to chuckle, and brings you back on his lap, squeezing the life out of you  (≧д≦ヾ)

“i was just kidding babe don’t leave me!!” says renjun as he sways you kinda violently may i add from side to side and rubs his cheek against yours cuz he’s a kitty and adorable confirmed  ε=(｡��ˇд ˇ♡｡）

rough love you have other there as you can see

Lee Jeno

jeno is GENTLE GIANT （ﾉ｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

gentle loving giant in this case actually so even better

so we all know how the dreamies exposed this boy TWICE for playing video games 25/8 and he got scolded by his mum lol so i’m thinking

you’re trying to get him to go to sleep or at least rest his eyes he’s already blind enough i WONDER WHY damn

all this started when you settled in front of his computer to block his view

and as he argued with you he decided enough is enough and pulled you into his lap, traping you against his chest (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

“jeno it’s 3 am!!” :<

“ just one more round baby” of video games ya nasties...no? only me?ok

he tries to give you a *smooch* but you move your face away and refuse to turn around and let him kiss you

and that’s where jeno draws the line (; ･`д･´)​

kithes are something that can’t berefused between you two, an unspoken rule you apparenly weren’t aware of

so with a ‘eep!!!’ from you, he simly stands up from his seat with you latched onto him like a koala like (＾ω＾ ≡ °д°)

“jeno put me down!!!11!!1! NOW!!” 

“kiss first” (.◜ ᵕ ◝.)  

“are you nuts??!!!?” *exaggerated smooch* “now put me down!!”

needless to say he’s not letting go anytime soon, he just plops into bed and you cuddle until you fall asleep you’ve been scammed

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is a very VERY petty brat person ಠ_ಠ

so guess what... fights with him are a national competition of petty acts

and you know what his ultimate move in your most recent fight is? *drum rolls* turning off the central heating really original hyuck i applaud you

and this kid knows exactly what he’s doing when he sits down in his gaming chair with a shit-eating grin  (ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)

he hears you stumble around the house in your dora the explorer exploration in the search of a blanket

but guess what? they’re all under his flat cake  ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

so when you bardge in the room and find him hogging all the warmth you hope to intimidate him with your  ✨ highly horrific glare ✨

but he pretends to be too busy to notice you so you just defeatedly settle on his lap and under the blankets

“well well well look who’s crawling back with their tail between their legs”

“i might just cut off your front microscopic tail” (눈_눈)

but i just know he’s gonna cuddle you until you sweat your ass off under that mountain of blankets

and even when he can’t hold you, he’ll press his lips against your forehead, lingering there as his warm breath fanned across your skin

he also made a deal with you to which you didn’t necessarily agree with but that’s a minor detail am i rite

if he wins the round he gets a kiss as a reward (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

if he loses, he gets 2 kisses as a consolation (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)و ̑̑

you’re getting suspicious of his 4 consecutive losses

Na Jaemin

he’s a fluff ball we all know it, we all love it

he’d DIG THAT KIND OF SHIT  ٩̋(ˊ•͈ ꇴ •͈ˋ)و

and he babies you to the end of earth

99.8% chance that he’s gonna stop playing just to cradle you against his chest properly because YOU’RE. HIS. BABY!!! periodt.

cue yelling from his teammates for abadoning them in the middle of the game but that’s inevitable

“na jaemin you SIMP!!!!” 

but jaemin is too busy making puppy eyes at you (●♡∀♡))ヾ☆*。

he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach and then scoop your hands in his and bring them to his lips for another shower of kithes  (*'､^*)chu

and if you kiss him back??  

this man will literally COMUST with uwus istg

like just imagine you brush your lips against his neck and then you gently nuzzle against him??

jaemin would melt in your embrace ♡(｡- ω -)

even if he did eventually go back to playing, he’d press kises anywhere in reach periodically cuz he’s soft like that

would also LOVE feeling your breath fan his neck he gets a unique feeling of comfort knowing that he has you so close to him  (๑˃ᴗ˂)

“even if you were the impostor i’d still vote myself out for you”

the romanticism of this decade 

Zhong Chenle

this boi is ruthless when playing video games

god frobid you’re in his way cuz you’re getting SQUASHED (｢⊙Д⊙)｢

 he obvioulsy LOVES winning

but ya know what he loves more than winning???

𝓨𝓞𝓤  ♡(㋭ ਊ ���)♡

so chenle is all (｡+･`ω･´)

“you waste of space move along!!!!”  “shoot that gun straight dammit or i’ll shove it up yo- oh hey baby°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°“

the moment you plop down on his lap and curl yourself up with your head tucked under his chin, his blazing eyes soften so cutely

and so raging kid chenle turns into best babyboi chenle (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

he M E L T S like he just leans into your touch and continues gaming  A LOT more silently and just smiles absent-mindedly the entire time

“yo chenle you dead????” most likely jisung on the other side of the headphones

“no?” ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

“... guys he’s plotting something, reatreat!! i repeat, RETREAT!!!”

“what?? no, what do you mean by that !??!!!”

you stir as his voice rises in volume and chenle immediately settles down again and shushes you while patting your heah and threading his fingers through your hair carefully (*-ω-)

goes straight for jisung after that teammate or not rip jisung you’ll be missed but also bad choice to annoy a soft-for-only-my-baby chenle

Park Jisung

a bit flustered but just couldn’t refuse you when you cutely asked him with wide puppy eyes if you could sit in his lap to watch him play

probably short circuited for a good 2 minutes before he could produce and intelligible answer (ง ´͈౪`͈)ว

and that’s how you found yourself perched on his lap, facing the screen with curious eyes as jisung struggled as if his LIFE depended on it

“how do you jump?” (,Ծ_Ծ,)

“you can’t jump”

“what do you mean you can’t jump?? gravity doesn’t work like that” Σ(･ิ¬･ิ)

you’re like 2 newborn babies running wild and unsupervised

“jisung, that character looks like you when you’re constipated” (๑꒪▿꒪)*

cue cackling from the devil spawns on the other side

he’s gonna keep in mind this betrayal UNTIL THE END OF TIME beware

if you catch sight of one of his hands not working away i bet my allowance you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to hold it in yours DO IT I NEED MY ALLOWANCE DON’T BE SHY

of course he’ll automatically intertwine your fingers together and bring them up for a chaste kiss  ～(^з^)-♡

and i know for sure that he won’t have the heart to let go of it even when he needs it to play sigh jisung you SIMP

he’s gonna get scolded and teased by the other later but ya know

at least he ain’t no touch starved coward ¯\(°_o)/¯

he gets grounded for that by jaemin

[anyoneseenadam]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

------------------------------------------------------------------

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.”

[aminiatureworld]

Return to Me

Characters: Albedo, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,538

Warnings: Violence, Minor villain death

Premise: What is it like when the one you most adore becomes a stranger? And how’re you supposed to pick up the pieces?

In which the reader loses their memory.

Author’s Note: Just a note that this is not how actual amnesia works, and if you’re experiencing memory loss please contact your doctor.

That being said the amnesia is really good for angst and pining so how could I resist? It’s one of those guilty pleasure tropes I like to read and think of so I hope I did it justice.

Albedo

Albedo loved two things in this world, alchemy and you. They were what kept him centered, what kept him sharp and curious and full of life. So how could it be that one of those things should cause him such great unhappiness, and that said unhappiness should be the other’s suffering?

It had been a dangerous experiment, from the beginning Albedo was well aware of that. Testing whether or not elemental energy contained traces of elements via water could yield incredibly useful results about magic’s interaction with the ordinary world. But it could also backfire massively. Noxious gases, explosions, anything was possible.

But he’d thought he was prepared. After all you two had hiked all the way to the edges of Windrise specifically so no one would be around, and Albedo had even put up a barrier with the express intention of keeping anyone from getting hurt. It should’ve been fine, everything should’ve been fine, and yet when the Electro Slime condensate hit the water and the explosion knocked you both off your feet, slamming into the ground three meters from where you’d originated, he could only wonder how things had gone so wrong.

Picking himself up after a few agonizing seconds, every bone and muscle in his body stiff and aching from the sudden impact, Albedo crawled over to where you lay. To his horror you appeared to have hit a rock, and your head was bleeding slightly. Cupping your face in his hands the alchemist rasped out your name. The relief he felt when you opened your eyes was only momentary, replaced by shock and a sense of utter emptiness when you made out a groggy: “Who are you?”

Electro slime elements appear to contain no small amount of Chlorine, which, combined with only the hydrogen as a result of the electricity splitting the water molecules apart, caused an explosion. Although normally Albedo might’ve been thrilled by the discovery of an element only found mixed in the natural world, now he could only look upon that experiment with a raw sort of hatred that he hadn’t known he’d possessed. The ice around the alchemist’s heart had been burned away, and now all that remained was a burnt and shriveled up little thing, determined to make up for the lack of emotions by throwing its owner into the pits of despair.

Albedo spent all his time at first in the hospital and then in the apartment you two shared. You’d made an offhanded remark about how empty it looked, and Albedo had smiled awkwardly, not having the heart to tell you he could barely look at a piece of science equipment without a deep sense of loss. The doctors had said the effects should fade with time, but Albedo knew that there had been magic in the air, and a sick, twisted part of himself jeered that he was holding onto false hope.

It didn’t help that Albedo had been absolutely unprepared for the reality in which you couldn’t remember a thing about him, or your relationship. Never again would you rush up to him as you had before, excitement in your eyes and questions in your head. Memories of gathering crystal flies in the sunset and staying up all night, notes on old ruins swapped with sweet kisses and phrases that meant nothing at all, the beach where Albedo had sketched you for the first time and you had given him your first gift, all that was nothing to you, the stories of a stranger told by another.

“The first gift you gave me was a flower preserved in a solution of Cryo.” You said, words awkward and unsure in your mouth. Albedo knew that you weren’t really remembering it.

“That’s right,” he replied, voice light and calm, trying desperately to keep the despair from showing on his face. “It was a Cecilia. You said that it looked as if it was made of snow.”

“It sounds beautiful,” you replied, speaking more to yourself than to him, “I wish I could remember it.”

“You will someday, I’m sure of it.” He smiled, but the movement felt like too much effort to keep up and soon his face collapsed once more into an expression of melancholy. As if noticing this you smiled slightly in turn.

“Does it still exist?”

“Yes,” Albedo gazed out the window that faced you two. Beyond the buildings, only a few streets away lay his laboratory, locked away and gathering dust, “it does, but I cannot get it right now.”

“Oh,” you seemed at a loss for words, glancing down towards your hands, “that’s alright. I’d rather remember it on my own anyways.”

Albedo said nothing to this. Moving to place his hand on yours he paused. He was a stranger to you. This little act of comfort, all the little gestures he’d gotten so used to were now impossible. Dropping his hand to his side he moved to get you a glass of water, desperately trying to ignore the pain burning in his chest and in his heart.

_____

“Are these yours?”

Albedo placed the bag of groceries he’d just gotten on the floor. Moving over to where you were sitting, you were taking a break from adventuring until you remembered more, a decision made by the doctors for fear you’d forgotten how to control your vision. You had recently moved on from mostly sleeping to exploring your once familiar home, and now you sat curled on the couch; in your lap was a familiar book. Leaning over Albedo glanced at the page you were on.

“Yes, they’re mine. I like to sketch in my free time.”

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, running your hand reverently over the slightly stained page, “I can see the different shades in the mountain, even if it’s only a pencil drawing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Albedo smiled to himself, the memory of that day offering him some solace, “it was quite a difficult thing to draw.”

“It had an odd name.” You scrunched your nose slightly in concentration, an expression so cute Albedo could help but let out a huff of bittersweet laughter.

“Dragonspine. That’s the name of the mountain.” Turning to put the groceries away he paused when you spoke once more.

“No. That wasn’t it. It was something else. V-Vida something.” Albedo watched, incoherent thoughts and emotions clouding his mind as you retraced the circles you’d been making on the page beforehand. Suddenly your fingers stopped and you looked up. “Vindagnyr, yes that’s it! There’s a fortress up there, a, what did you tell me they were called, a domain. And that’s the name of it.” You closed your eyes once more. “Something happened there, something to do with you. I can’t remember it, if I was there or if you told me about it before, but something’s there. Something important.”

Albedo felt as if he must’ve been dreaming. The same sort of emptiness that had filled him at the beginning of this catastrophe was there, but this time there was something else, the bitter feeling of a hope that he couldn’t be sure of filling his lungs and his mouth. He turned back towards you, teetering forward as he tried to grasp the situation.

“Yes. That’s right. Vindagnyr. The name it had before it was essentially destroyed by Durin. I met the Traveler there, a week before I met you.” He sat down on the chair adjacent to where you were sitting, memories filling his mind. “It was also the first place we performed an experiment together.”

“I’d like to go there again then.” Your face was one of open triumph and excitement, and there was something in your eyes that Albedo thought he might never see again, a sort of recognition that he thought had been lost, “I know you haven’t been to your work once. I suppose it would make sense, considering what happened, but would you take me there?”

“Of course.” Albedo’s voice was sure and solid.

“Even though I might not remember more.”

“Even then.”

You reached your hand out to the alchemist, and after a second Albedo took it. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand slightly, and you made no move to withdraw, instead squeezing his palm slightly.

You had remembered something. It wasn’t everything of course, and there was no guarantee that there wouldn’t be heartbreak up ahead, wouldn’t be frustration and sorrow and moments when hope seemed very far away. But as long as moments like this existed, Albedo could hang on. The anger and despair that had burned inside him remained, but now something stronger resided there.

And that was hope.

 Scaramouche

“Do you see them?” You whispered, raising your head slightly above the rock you were hiding under. Scowling Scaramouche made a cutting gesture with his hand.

“Yes I see them. And get back down!”

Although his tone of voice was harsher than usual you smiled a smile of understanding as you lowered yourself once more out of sight. Scarmouche took a deep breath in response, trying to control the coiling tension that sat in his stomach. Today’s mission was an unenviable one, made only worse by your presence, for Scaramouche knew these were no ordinary enemies, and though you could take care of yourself just fine there was a nagging in his head that refused to be silenced.

Your targets sat encamped up ahead, completely nondescript in appearance, although that was hardly surprising of deserters of the Fatui, especially ones of such high caliber as them.

Scaramouche’s expression twisted into a scowl of concentration once more as he thought about the moment when you two had received your orders to get rid of those who knew of the dealings of the army of the Tsaritsa, and who were certainly willing to dispose of said secrets for the right price. Although they were no doubt traitors of the worst sort and worth less than dirt, there was still something unpleasant about fighting people who had once been comrades. You’d mused it was because of the bonds of mutual struggle and culture, but Scaramouche suspected for himself it was more the annoyance of fighting people who were at least somewhat trained.

Scaramouche gave the signal and you crept once more out from behind your hiding spot. Manifesting your polearm Scaramouche could already see the well worn metal steaming. This battle was going to be bloody.

At first everything had gone well enough, being hidden on a ledge about the camp you’d managed to do a great deal of damage, made easier by their surprise and ill planned position. However things quickly began to turn sour. The ex-Fatui might not’ve had the equipment of their army days, but they retained the ruthlessness that had once made them so efficient and now made them so dangerous.

There was an odd smell running through the valley, the smell of electricity and something burning. Scaramouche stood in front of a man who had certainly once been a vanguard and a woman who appeared to have been a Cryo mage. Sweat coated their faces but Scarmouche felt cold with the thrill of battle. Electricity crackled to life in his hands and already bits of electricity were dancing on the charred and dinky armor of his enemies. What were they thinking sending a Harbinger against a pathetic group such as this? It was laughable, really.

“Such a pity that members of such an elite force are going to die like dogs.” He drawled. The woman in front of him gritted her teeth, summoning a trail of icicles which Scaramouche easily leapt over. “Is that truly your worth?” He laughed, before the calm that always came with killing washed over him. “Your best is hardly worth my worst.” Gathering electricity, Scaramouche prepared for the final, searing strike.

The man in front of him smiled a sickening sort of smile, the kind that one made only when they knew that it was the end, and then it all went wrong.

The sound of your voice was muffled by the energy approaching Scaramouche from behind, as the outline of a transparent sort of figure clipped his vision. Quickly whirling around Scaramouche was unprepared for the third ex-Fatui member, an agent who had apparently learned his skills well, bearing down on him. Raising his hands, the Harbinger was suddenly thrown aside by an unknown force. Fire made contact with lightning and the ground exploded.

Fighting to retain consciousness Scaramouche was aware of the sickly smell of burning flesh. Blinking away the confusion he glanced at the carnage around him. The agent lay haphazardly, face half obscured by a mass of flesh that must’ve once made him up but now seemed out of place. Behind him the other agents had hardly feared better, and the charred visage of mangled flesh replace what had once been arms, legs, necks. It was an unsettling view, and though Scaramouche couldn’t say it was the worst thing he’d ever seen it still left a vile taste in his mouth. How quickly a fragile little human could come undone, made into that which was unrecognizable.

Finally he fixed his gaze towards you, relieved to find that there was no apparent wounds, although that perspective shifted slightly when viewing your hands, which were covered with welts. Your fire must’ve mixed with his electricity, causing an overload of energy, and you two lying in the eye of the storm. Scaramouche looked at his own hands, and realized they were similarly reddened. Ignoring the pain he shook your shoulder. “Get up.” He let out when you finally opened your eyes.

However it was apparent very quickly that something was wrong. You eyes held no recognition in them, instead they seemed as blank and transparent as a mirror. Looking at him you furrowed your brow slightly.

“Where…” your gaze drifted towards the scraps of humanity around you and then there was nothing but screaming and a wetness on Scaramouche’s cheeks that felt suspiciously like tears.

“You need to get back to work.” Signora’s voice betrayed no sense of pity. Scaramouche was glad for it, he wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive her if there had been.

“I doubt those imbeciles need me for something as simple as the daily regime. If they do it’s their fault, not mine. I owe them nothing.”

“You owe them your work, it’s your duty as a Harbinger,” Signora’s eyes narrowed, “or have you forgotten that in your folly.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing!” Scaramouche snapped, eyes boring into those across from him. “I am well aware of what my obligations are and what they aren’t. As I said there is nothing of importance fir me right now, and I don’t wish to waste away my time with trivial matters.”

“What would our dear Tsarina think of such words,” Signora let out a dramatic sigh. Raising the glass she was drinking from to your lips she paused, “you best be careful. I cannot shelter you from your folly forever. Either you learn how to deal with this… unfortunate incident and your work, or I shall have that person thrown out into the snow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Scaramouche’s tone was like acid and he felt for the moment as if letting go of himself wasn’t such a crime, for now there was no one to chastise him about it anymore.

“I’m warning you. Don’t forget what happens to those who cannot fulfill their duty to the Tsarina,” Signora paused, a cruel smile gracing her face, “or have you forgotten who caused this in the first place.”

It was all Scaramouche could do not to set the tent ablaze.

“Get. Out.” He commanded. Signora sighed, shaking her head and downing her drink in one go before walking out and leaving Scaramouche with the feeling of falling apart.

_______

“Do you sing?”

Scaramouche lifted his head at the sound of your voice, surprised by the question. You hadn’t said much since the aftermath of the incident, and Scaramouche hadn’t forced you to. After all it was one of the things he’d first appreciated in regards to you, you’d never forced him to talk when he didn’t want to. Now he felt the need to afford you the same courtesy, knowing that intelligence still lay behind those eyes even if recognition had disappeared. Now he put down the document he was reading, smiling wryly and shaking his head.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s what you’re called isn’t it? Your name, one of your names. The… the Balladeer?” You said it as if it was a question, and perhaps it was. Scaramouche couldn’t think however, couldn’t think over the rushing in his ears.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know. I just heard it. Or I remembered it. But that’s who you are, isn’t it?” You smiled, and for a moment Scaramouche could almost imagine life was as it was before. “Can you sing for me?”

“No.” This conversation had happened before.

“Fine,” you shook your head, “but one day I want you to sing for me, when I remember everything, then I want you to sing for me.”

“Fine.” Scaramouche managed to get out, afraid of the rising emotions he felt, afraid they might break through his voice.

“You’re missing work, aren’t you.” You continued on, gaze piercing through him. “I can tell, I can hear people whispering about it when I go out. I’m not supposed to be here, and you’re supposed to be working. If what you told me really is what happened, you should work.”

“Ridiculous,” Scaramouche scoffed, “I can manage my own affairs. Besides,” his voice grew softer, as if he didn’t want to reveal himself to you. You were too familiar, but still a stranger, and a part of him hid behind the walls he built up around everyone else, the walls only you could climb over. “Besides, who would look after you.”

“I can look after myself.” Your answer was as confident as it had always been. “I have to, since I trust what you’ve told me about myself, about this work, this world.”

“It was you not looking after yourself that lost you your memory!” He was shouting by now, he was shouting but he couldn’t stop because if he stopped shouting he’d be crying.

“Perhaps. But it’s not looking after me to end up like the people we fought. So go to your work. And maybe one day when you come back, I’ll remember.”

He couldn’t say no to you, eventually you won. It had been that way since the beginning, you tearing down his bluffing and his empty promises. Perhaps it was what he appreciated most about you.

Every moment Scaramouche was away from you felt like he was betraying a part of himself, a part he had hid for so long. But you were right, just like before, and just like before you’d won him over with your honesty, your refusal to back down, and your view of the Harbinger for what he truly was, someone who was deep down truly afraid. That part of you remained, somehow without memory and without certainty it remained.

And if that part of you remained, well maybe some day the rest would return.

 Xiao

“Xiao look!” You let out a cry of delight as you threw yourself off the tall stone mountain, glider unfurling in a vibrant waves of color as you began circling in the air. Xiao scowled from the tree in which he was perched, unwilling to humor you in your folly.

“You’re going to be injured.” Although he hadn’t meant for you to hear that you still laughed at the comment, shaking your head as you once more carved shapes into the sky.

“It’s a lovely day for gliding! The air is so fresh and the breeze is just enough to keep you upright!”

“It’s too windy.” Xiao’s voice was flat. This was foolish, what you were doing was foolish. He could feel the currents, feel their laughter, their excitement. They were surely up to no good.

But you weren’t paying attention to that, instead you were gliding about as if you were born to fly. It was a beautiful sight, Xiao had to admit. The beauty of those immersed in what they loved. And what Xiao loved was you.

“Come on Xiao!” You called out. “Come fly with me!”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, I know you can do it!” Screwing your face into a pout when the adeptus once more shook his head you shrugged. “Your loss.”

Xiao knew you were disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed somehow out of place for him to join you in whatever you were doing. Besides, he needed to keep track of the currents, just in case.

You dove down for a moment, and Xiao felt his stomach clench, knowing full well what you were doing, but unable to keep the worry out of his mind. And yet then you were flying up, up, up, up and though Xiao wanted to scold you, wanted to tell you to come down once more, he was rapt, in awe. You were too beautiful, and it stole his breath away.

A gust of wind came blowing through the stone monoliths and as your wings buckled and you plummeted towards the ground Xiao found that he was truly unable to breathe at all.

Perhaps it was a blessing that you were unconscious. Then you didn’t have to feel the way Xiao held onto your shoulders as if he’d never let you go, the way he gasped for the air he was supposed to be in charge of, the way his eyes were devoid of everything but fear. You hadn’t fallen so far, he told himself, you hadn’t fallen so far it was fatal. You were breathing, you were going to be fine. But he found himself unable to believe those words. If you had said them he would’ve, but there you were, a crumpled mess and he barely able to process the world around him.

Crashing onto the Inn balcony, not caring about the odd looks thrown his way, Xiao made his way upstairs. You were going to be fine. You were.

If only he could believe himself.

“They’re out of danger now.” Verr Goldet’s voice was calm, unnaturally so, and Xiao only softened a little at the knowledge, sure something had gone wrong. “But…” the innkeeper continued, confirming all of the fears Xiao had been secretly nursing.

“But.”

“But there seems to be a problem with their memory. They were very confused at first, unable to remember things such as Liyue, their duty as adventurer, this place, things like that. At first we thought it would clear, but now it seems that isn’t so. Their memory might be affected for quite a while.”

“I want to see them.” Xiao brushed past Goldet, determined to help you if this was to be your fate. But Goldet’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“Xiao, they can’t remember you.”

At first there was the feeling of falling. And then, as Xiao vanished, there was nothing.

______

At first Xiao was determined to stay away completely. It hurt too much, hurt to think about what had happened. At first he’d managed to survive on anger, anger at the world, at you not listening to him, at himself for letting it happen. But quickly the anger faded and what replaced it was a loneliness so vast he couldn’t believe that he had managed to survive in such a way before he met you.

Still he didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see you as you were now, unaware of him and perhaps destined to remain so. How cruel fate was. It took everything he knew from him and just when he began to live again it took that to. It took away your memory, your livelihood, and for what? To punish him? It seemed unfair, so unfair.

So he’d stayed away, afraid that something would happened again to you if he were to show himself again. But the knowledge of such emotions as love is something that doesn’t fade, and Xiao found himself unable to continue on as before, finding the pain too great. He had to see you. At least to say goodbye, he had to see you. It would be unfair not to do so.

The moon was full, casting a silvery light on the landscape. Xiao drifted over towards the roof of the Inn, thankful that he was invisible, so as to not have to experience the moment your eyes reached him but you didn’t.

Your silhouette appeared quickly enough in the darkness. You seemed somewhat preoccupied, and yet there was a purpose to your step, made all the more evident by the Qingxin grasped firmly in your hand, a brethren of the other flowers which lay scattered on the railing.

“I know you’re there.” At first Xiao jumped, thinking perhaps you’d somehow managed to sense him. However he calmed down once you continued, it appeared you weren’t truly talking to him.

“I know you’re there. And I wish you’d come back,” You continued, gazing out on the landscape around you. “I don’t remember your name you see. They told me your name of course, but I wish they hadn’t, I wanted to remember it myself. It must be why you left, of course you didn’t want to see me like this. If what they said was true…” you shook your head, “I know it was true. I know that it had to have been true, that I cared for you, that you cared for me. I know because I miss you.” Xiao felt his heart pound in his chest, so loud he could barely hear you.

“I miss you so much. Isn’t that odd? I don’t know you anymore and yet I miss you. It’s as if something is missing. I mean, of course something is missing but it’s more than just the memories themselves. It’s the feeling. Like going outside without a coat on. I miss you, even if I can’t miss you because I can’t remember you I do, I miss you dearly.”

You paused, placing the flower on the railing next to the rest.

“I hope you see the flowers before they fade,” you called out softly to the dark, “and I hope one day I can look at you again. I remember you had such lovely eyes. I’d like to see them again to be sure.”

For a moment Xiao didn’t move, frozen by all he’d heard. But the minute you turned to leave he was already there, bound by the feelings he had for you, by the knowledge that continuing as he had been would kill him, would only hurt you.

“Do you remember me?” It was a silly question to ask, but he had nothing else to say. You turned towards him and smiled softly. It was true, your eyes didn’t recognize him. But there was something in your gaze nonetheless.

“Xiao.” You whispered, and the yaksha knew that he’d never be able to leave again.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Bones 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: Another random update of a series for y’all as I toil away at drabbles in between!

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Your skin crawled as you walked to work the next morning. The memories of the night before made you cringe and tuck your chin down as you kept your eyes ahead of you. You feared if you looked around, you might summon the incessant biker from his hole.

The library was as empty as any other day and you claimed your seat at the curved desk. You booted up and sipped from your thermos, the coffee bitter on your tongue as you watched Melissa appear from the non-fiction section. She sat in her own chair and yawned as she signed on.

The monotony of Birch was sobering after the night in the dank bar. The bikers and their own little world, a microcosm of the worst types all in one place. You went about your usual tasks, there were a few returns on the cart to put back on the shelves and you walked the shelves and checked for out of order codes.

The hours slaked by like the peaks of a mountain against ancient gales. The stale lights made the days stretch to tedium and the grey without added to the sense of listlessness. Colin’s low snores escaped the back room and Melissa sorted through bent paperbacks in a far aisle to put out for the Sunday penny sale.

As the windows darkened, Colin gave his usual grumbled farewell and further mussed his wavy hair as he tried to smooth it out. It didn’t matter much as he covered it with the old faded Leafs toque and left through the automatic doors. His shadow was soon followed by Melissa as she looked forward to seeing her daughter and watching some new program on the local channel.

You were the last as you walked the aisles before final lock-up. The automatic doors were off as you checked for unlikely stragglers. You came back to the round desk and flipped off the lights for all but the entry way and the back office. You pushed open the door and locked the outside ones with a jangle of keys. As you turned back, you gripped the big key to the back door and shook your head.

You stepped through the space between the inner doors and stared at the man behind your desk. He sat in your chair, your purse sat before him on the counter as he shoved a large hand inside. You crossed your arms and watched Thor as he pulled out your coral coloured wallet and unsnapped it.

“What are you doing?” You asked harshly. “How did you get in here?”

He snickered and pulled out a card and lifted it up to look at it closely. He leaned back and flicked it with his thumb. “I knew you were a city girl.” He said.

“Get out. We’re closed.”

“Sorry, I’m late. I’m a busy man.” He slid the card back in place and searched the rest, uninterested by the few bills inside the fold and your various reward cards and outdated alumni ID.

“Late? You don’t seem the reading type. We don’t have that many audiobooks.” You neared and grabbed the other handle of your purse. “There’s an app for that now.”

Again, he laughed and dropped your wallet into the depths of your purse. He released it and pushed his shoulders back as you dragged the bag off the desk. He tilted his head and held up your phone in its shiny lavender case. He smirked as the screen lit up and he swiped it open. You never should have added the library as a trusted location.

“Hmm,” he turned it to face him and scrolled with his thumb, “I think you’re missing a number in here.”

“Give it.” You reached for the phone and he held it away from you like some annoying teenager. “Hey… Thor! Give me it. It’s mine!”

His blonde lashes flashed and he looked at you with delight. “Oooh, I love it when you say my name.”

“Stop. You can’t be in here and you certainly can’t--” 

You swiped for the phone again and he caught your arm. He yanked you so hard you almost left the floor and you dropped your purse and keys. He held you over the counter as he twisted your wrist just a little.

“And who exactly is going to make me leave?”

He kept his thick fingers locked around your wrist as he searched your phone. You struggled with him but it only sent a violent jolt up to your elbow.

“I can do whatever I want and you can’t do anything to stop me. In fact, there’s no one in this town who can.” His jaw clenched and he locked your phone. “Well, kitten, I’m going to hold onto this.” He let go of you and stood as you retracted your arm and rubbed your sore wrist. “And when you want to be a good girl for me, you can come find me and ask for it nicely.”

“Ask? You’re crazy. It’s mine. You’re--” you sputtered.

You swallowed as his hand balled to a fist and his brow twitched. It was the first hint of anything but amusement. It was much more troubling, a slight tell. He was angry.

“I’ve been nice, kitten. I like you and your claws but don’t scratch too deep.” He warned as he backed away. “I’ll see my way out unless of course… you would take me up on my offer from last night.”

“Go. Keep the fucking phone.” You snarled and reached for your purse and the keys. 

You stood and watched as he ran his tongue just below his teeth and turned away. He snaked his way through the back office and you heard the heavy metal door whine in his stead. You locked the inner doors and grabbed your jacket from the rack.

You went to the same door and hit the lights. You activated the security system and stepped out with a cautious look around the vacant parking lot. You locked the door and headed around the side of the brick building and out into the glow of the streetlights.

You could get a new phone, that was nothing, just a chunk out of your check. He could search your contacts, your apps, your phones, he’d find nothing but the pathetic life of a thirtysomething wash out. That wasn’t what worried you. 

He was watching you. He had to be. He knew when you were alone and he knew how to get in. You might not see him but you were certain he could see you. You shivered and pulled your hate over your head and puffed out a cloud. 

💀

You went home angry but slightly addled from the encounter. You watched over your shoulder the entire way home and locked your door with the tarnished chain. You found it hard to settle as you debated marching over to the bar and demanding your phone back and opening the wine you hadn’t touched since your impulsive purchase. You really hated Thor but you knew you could push him much further before he did something much worse.

You ignored your wrath and ate your dinner in front of the television before hiding under your covers and watching the snowfall until you fell asleep. Every night was as dull as the one before and the morning always came too quickly.

You woke and readied for your day with a cup of home-brewed Colombian roast and packed your lunch. You searched for your phone for two seconds before you remembered where it was. Your neck prickled as you thought of Thor with access to all your information and the barren social media accounts. 

The snow was even deeper that day and you fought through the thick carpet. The library felt twice as far by the time you reached it and you were panting as you entered and shook off the powder. You took your usual spot at the usual time with your usual thermos and usual disillusion.

You whiled away the hours without the distraction of your phone. You realised how easily this man could torture you and not even be in the same place as you. You went searching in the aisles for something to do and scraped the gum off the bottom of the tables. A disgusting task but work nonetheless.

When the end of the day came, you were all too happy to go home and hide under your duvet with a tea and a sitcom. You hated this. You would go to the city and get a new phone if you had too. God, how much would that cost?

💀

The days slogged by and on your first free day, you were too tired to make the drive out of town. You resigned to your procrastination, instead taking a short walk down the main street to Babs’. Your usual order, but cinnamon instead of caramel in your latte, and a scone to enjoy at home.

The snow remained as thick as days before. You looked out the bakery window in dread as you awaited your order at the end of the counter. You still caught yourself reaching for your phone. If you waited too long, you might not even be able to make it into the city. Well, you could always order something online. 

The door chimed as Steve’s girl came to the other side of the counter and placed your latte out for you. She smiled and you thanked her but her eyes rounded as you heard boots come close. You turned, barely surprised by the man who was better described as your shadow those days. 

Since his visit to the library, Thor had made himself known in several instances, every day as you walked home he was outside the asp, watching. Other times, he’d be waiting by the steps of the library, mocking you silent as he pulled out your phone. You had too much pride to ask for it back and you knew that it would take more than asking.

You tried to sidestep him and he blocked your path. The foam pushed out through the hole in the plastic lid and you sighed.

“What do you want?” you hissed.

“I should ask you. I don’t know many girls these days can go days without their lifeline,” he taunted, “You know, it’s dangerous how much of ourselves we keep on these little things.”

He patted his jacket where he no doubt had your phone hidden. You looked down at your latte and thought of popping the lid off and tossing it at him. That wouldn’t be any good. You shrugged and looked past him.

“I gotta go--”

“Is there anything I can get you, Thor?” Steve’s girl eked out as if her voice could barely fit through her windpipe.

“I’ve come for something sweet but I think I found it,” he smirked, his eyes stuck to you.

“Give it up,” you scoffed and elbowed past him. He chuckled and followed you to the door as you sped up, your treads squeaking on the salt-stained floor.

“On you? Never,” he purred as you pulled the door open and he caught it behind you.

“You can break the phone for all I care,” you snarled, “just leave me alone.”

He kept up with you as flakes gathered on your scarf and you peered down the street and ran across. His boots crunched in time with yours as he lingered in your peripheral. You spun as you came to a stop on the other side and scowled.

“Jesus, I thought dogs were supposed to be obedient,” you snapped.

“I can be,” he winked and reached to brush the snow from the hair poking out from under your cap, “I’ll gladly get to my knees for you, kitten.”

You snapped at his hand and he pulled away with a surprised laugh. You gritted your teeth and took a step back.

“I won’t tell you again and I’m getting real tired of this.”

“You keep forgetting who you’re meowing at, kitten,” he stepped closer and you backed away again.

You turned and flitted away from him. You had not planned for him in your day off and you weren’t going to let him ruin it. You wanted to go home and enjoy your coffee, alone. However, that meant leading him to your front door. You stopped again.

“Go,” you pointed across the street at the Asp, the town’s marquee.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so cute,” he tugged on your scarf and you swatted him away.

“Alright, that’s it!” you smashed your cup against his chest and the hot liquid steamed as it splashed across his front and dripped down his leather jacket. 

He held out his arms as he looked down at himself and slowly back to you. His blue eyes dilated as the ends of his golden hair sopped with caffeine. It was too late to apologize, too futile. You sputtered and quickly turned away.

You were thankful when you didn’t hear him behind you. You stopped and peaked back at the corner of the next side street. He watched you still and even at a distance you could see his rage.

If you hoped he’d lose interest, that optimism was dead.

💀

A snow storm stagnated the already stale town and you could guess that the highway was even worse. You could replace your sim online but that would take at least a week to arrive and with the weather, likely longer. It might be quicker to wait out the blizzard. You stayed in limbo, reluctant to pull the trigger.

You kept to your apartment for the rest of the weekend, with no reason or want to leave. On your way, you didn’t see him. You sighted a few figures through the falling powder but they were faces familiar to the streets. You kept an eye over your shoulder, glancing around every few steps.

You avoided the cafe. He might look for you there, he might even be waiting for you. You sat down at your desk but felt out of place. He could walk through those doors like he had only days before. He could taunt you and tease you. What made you so antsy was that he could do worse than that. You knew it but you’d let your temper get the best of you. A wasted latte might have cost you everything.

By the end of your shift, it was decided. You were leaving Birch. No one could know until you were gone. Not Melissa, not Colin, no one. You old all-weathers would have to get you down the highway, just to the city so you could lose yourself there until you had a real plan. Even as the snow piled higher and higher, there could be no delay. You’d waited long enough.

Paranoid, you were certain you’d be met again on your path home. The town was dead as the soft blanket covered the ground. The flakes turned to mounds and the tops of your boots let in errant clumps of snow. The store may as well been closed for the day, the library had been little different but its lethargy was expected. Even The Asp seemed to have dulled with the pale gusts.

You packed a bag. One. The apartment came furnished and you never cared much for miscellany. Anything you left behind was replaceable. You went down the back stairs and cleaned off your small Focus. Used but reliable. You were out of breath as you climbed into the driver’s seat and threw the brush in the back.

You drove carefully down the side streets, snaking around as you knew the main fair would give away your escape. You stopped at the sign that pointed to the highway ramp and wondered. 

What if he had got the clue? What if you were running from nothing?

You remember the look in his eye and shivered. No, that glimmer assured you that return to your mother’s was as wise as it would be torturous. You followed the arrow and took the curve steadily with your foot planted on the gas. The traffic was slow and cautious as headlights were barely visible through the snowfall.

You gripped the wheel tightly and let out a breath. You would be gone before he knew. You’d get a new phone, a new job, a new life. Even if it was just pay-as-go, a McDonald’s visor, and your mother’s couch for a while. What good was a job in a place like Birch anyway? Just as good as your irrelevant degree.

You were startled and nearly lost control as a set of lights appeared behind you in the next lane. They were dangerously close to dinging your rear bumper as the reckless driver took a u-turn right before the upcoming barriers. You wrinkled your brow as you glared at them through the white haze. What kind of maniac was pulling shit like that in this weather?

And then, they did hit you. A nudge but enough to send you veering in the thick lines of snow. You clutched the wheel and tried to steer into it, tried to right yourself as you were knocked again. Your heart was in your throat as the engine revved and you hit your brakes, not knowing what else to do as a third collision came.

You spun out and hit the cement wall along the far lane, narrowly missing another car as it pulled ahead. You stilled, your seatbelt saving your face from a smack against the wheel, and stared down the highway as you stared at oncoming traffic. You were completely turned around on the arm.

You caught your breath and reached for your purse. Fuck, you had no phone. What was that asshole thinking? It didn’t seem like an accident.

The car that had bullied you into a crash pulled up along the barrier. You watched in the rear view as the barely visible tail lights glowed and a dark figure appeared between the car and the concrete. You squinted as the man neared, a long coat flapped around his tall figure as he held his hand to his face.

He came up beside your car as you heard his voice muffled through the glass and tapped on your window. He bent and knocked again as you shot him the finger. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You rolled down the window with the manual crank and growled, “what the fuck!?”

“Can I have your name, darling?” he asked in a sinisterly familiar accent.

“Screw you! You almost killed me!”

He turned his phone out as you screeched at him and quickly put it back to his ear, “that sound like her?”

A deep voice rumbled in the speaker and the dark-hair man nodded as he shielded his face from the blowing snow, “you owe me, brother.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you spat and reached to your glovebox. You grabbed the heavy flashlight and swung it at him, “get away--”

He caught with a leather-gloved hand and glared back at you. He tucked away the phone in his jacket. His nostrils flared and his green irises caught fire. 

“Let’s not do this, darling,” he warned, “my brother has given me clearance to use whatever force necessary…” he pushed the button and pulled open your door as he wrenched away the metal flashlight, “and while he seems the bigger brute, I assure you his cruelty cannot match mine.”

[littlepadika]

hi angel 🥰 i’m just in the middle of rereading calling home !!!! i was just wondering, could you ever do a one shot of like sweet pea calming frankie during the middle of the night if he has like an anxiety attack or nightmare? i love the dynamic between those 2 and would love to see how sweet pea calms frankie 🥺

Hi bb sorry this took me a hot minute to get to. First off... i'm thrilled you are re reading my series! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: PTSD, anxiety, comfort, fluff

AN: This is early in their relationship. Probably right after chapter 5. Therapy also referred to in this drabble

source: @uuuhshiny

You blinked up at the ceiling, sleep momentarily thinning. You heard low muttering beside you.

"Frankie?" You turned reaching over to his side of the bed. He was shaking and sweaty under your hand. "Frankie!" You sat up, this time going to the other side of the bed to flick on the bedside lamp. The dim yellow light revealed Frankie twitching and muttering incoherently. Sweat clung to his forehead. His mouth was pursed in between a frown and snarl. His jaw was clenched tight. His whole body was stiff as a board. He was deep in a nightmare. You heard him say something like "no no".

You had been over this scenario with Frankie. He advised you not to touch him when he was having nightmares in case he acted on instinct and accidentally hurt you. But now that it was real, you couldn't just watch him endure a nightmare like this.

"Hey... hey..." You stoked his arm with your fingers lightly. He jerked away from your touch with a grunt. When he turned his head you saw that there were tears in the corner of his eyes. "Oh, Frankie... Wake up please. Come on, baby. Please wake up." You just continued to slowly stroke his arm, his chest, eventually making your way up to his face. He seemed to be calming down.

Then he abruptly sat up, scooting away from you reflexively.

"Wha-What's..." He looked around the room and then trailed off when he saw you watching him, concern evident on your face. He wiped his wet eyes.

"Nightmare." You explained though you were sure he already knew.

"Did I hurt you?" He immediately asked, looking away in shame. His humiliation mixed toxically with his adrenaline and fear from the dream.

"No. You didn't hurt me." You answered quickly, pushing yourself up, but you resisted hugging him for fear he was still overstimulated. You offered your water bottle to him. "Do-do you want to talk about it?"

Frankie shook his head, looking down at his sweaty self. "It's the usual dream. The helicopter crash." He shuddered, trying to pull himself into the present and away from his distorted memory. He took a couple sips of water and then handed the bottle back to you. Mentally he did the exercises he had practiced. Name one thing you see: Sweet pea. Name one thing you hear: A passing car. Name one thing you feel: Soft sheets. Where are you? Home. Home. Home.

You waited patiently through all of this, giving Frankie space to speak when he was ready. He took a few deep ragged breaths, his fists clenched on the bed below you. Too scared to touch you yet. He worried that he may have scared you off. That now you would have seen that all of his demons were real.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, sweet pea." His gruff voice was dripping with guilt. You frowned, not in frustration at him but at the stigma that led him to feel so terrible about dreams he could not control.

"Frankie...you didn't bother me." You couldn't resist laying a hand over his bare stomach feeling him relax at your touch. "I'm glad I woke up. I want to comfort you."

He sniffed, new tears in his eyes. He was still looking away from you. You understood. It was such a vulnerable state for anyone, let alone someone who had endured as much rejection as Frankie had.

"Can I hold you? Is that okay?" You feel your own voice shake with emotion. Your power and your love was limited with him not in your arms. As much as you knew your voice could move mountains, you needed to console him with more than words.

"Yes. please." Frankie exhaled finally looking at you, his brown eyes misty and wanting. You wasted no time climbing over his legs and pulling his face into your neck. His arms linked around your back, holding you close.

His skin, that earlier vibrated like it was trying to break apart, settled under your touch. Solidifying enough so he could finally sense each part of his body. Hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders, and so on. He mentally listed each one as it related to you. Your hands on his head. Your chest on his chest. Your breath on his neck.

"I have you." You promised, knowing the words would help ground him. "I have you. I'm not going anywhere. Just be here with me."

"I'm so tired of this." He whispered into your warm embrace. "I just want to be better."

"I know." You sat back cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb over that patch of grey in his beard.

"I was doing so well." He continued to beat himself up. He had been so pleased to have gone nearly a month without any nightmares or PTSD. He tried to think of something that could have triggered him but yesterday was a normal Thursday. He didn't drink. He didn't have a stressful customer at work. He had sex. He showered. Sometimes there was no trigger and that was the most unsettling type of episode.

Frankie ducked his head, resting his forehead in between your breasts. He wished he could crawl inside you and away from his thoughts. His PTSD made him nauseous and too hyper to sleep. He was both hyper-focused and dazed at the same time. Every nightmare always felt like an omen that things were going to get bad again. He was going to start craving and then eventually relapse.

You rubbed his back in slow circles trying to coax him into a more normal breathing rate. A minute passed, the only sounds were Frankie's rough breathing and your slower one.

"What else do you need?" You asked gently.

"Can you- can you light the candle please?" He requested in a muffled voice.

"Sure." You smiled, reaching over to his side of the bed and pulling out the lighter. Your candle, already well used, was soon flickering brightly. The floral scent you and Frankie loved, filled your brain making sleep slowly start to edge its way in. You could feel his breathing slow. "That better?"

"Mmhmm." He grumbled. Something about the scent grounded him to this chapter in his life; the one with you in it. He wasn't that lonely guy anymore. He wasn't in a war zone. He had everything he could ever dream of right in his arms... and yet... this still happened. "I'm sorry, sweet pea."

"What for?" You tousled his hair affectionally.

"For-for being messed up."

"Frankie..." You nudged his head up so you could kiss him deeply. You let him take the lead, pressing him tongue into your mouth and pulling you tighter against his chest. At your quiet moan he pulled back letting you finish your thought. You didn't care how many times you had to say it, touch it, kiss it into reality: Frankie was perfect the way he was.

"You aren't messed up." You murmured, holding his eyes with your earnest gaze. "You're strong. You're resilient and brave. I love you because of that. You're like... a phoenix. You rise from the ashes." Then you giggled. "Sorry I just thought of a hybrid between a catfish and a Phoenix."

"Ha." He laughed shakily, tightening his arms around you. "A fish on fire. Sounds about right."

"Or a bird with whiskers." You snorted.

He kissed you again, relishing your little giggles against his lips. You laced your hands with his.

"I'm here to remind you to be kind to yourself. Remember how far you've come. I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

Once again he reflected on how lucky he was to have you in the flesh. Your empathy amazed him. It had from day one but his awe grew monumentally tonight. You weren't scared. You saw all of his brokenness for what it was and you only loved him harder. He had to trust your vision of him when his own internal compass failed.

"You tired, little pea?" He chuckled when you yawned cutely, after trying to hold it in.

"No." You told a small lie, just to keep him from trying to put your needs first. You weren't going to sleep until you knew he felt safe. "How are you feeling? Be honest, please."

Frankie searched his body with another deep breath. "Better. I'm just really amped up from the adrenaline. But go back to sleep, little pea. I'll read or something.”

"Mmm read to me?" You asked holding back another yawn.

"Sure." He chuckled. You rolled off of him pulling the covers back over you both. Frankie grabbed his copy of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. You latched onto him like a koala bear and hung onto his deep voice. Frankie appreciated the weight of your arm on his stomach and head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat below your ear slowing.

Frankie paused his quiet oration to peer down at your relaxed face and fluttering eye lids. "I love you, sweet pea."

"mmm love you too." You breathed in reply.

For the first time, Frankie was able to go back to sleep after his nightmare.

~~~~~~~~~~

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[heyiwrotesomethings]

Bedtime Stories

Penny (Stardew) x They/Them Reader

A/N: Woo! With this, I have completed a fic for all the Stardew Bachelorettes! Hope ya’ll are ready for Penny time! Word Count: 5,618

(Y/n) stretched their arms way above their head, reveling in the pulling of their back muscles and the dull crack of their spine. They had been out foraging all day and their pack was full of blackberries, mushrooms and nuts. A very good haul.

They shivered a bit as another breeze blew through. The skies had only gone dark about an hour ago, but (Y/n) was ready to call it a night and turn in to their warm and cozy farmhouse.

They walked up the dirt path past Marnie’s ranch to their farm, smiling when they saw the light of their house in the distance. The children must have been giving Penny a hard time tonight. Usually they’d be asleep before (Y/n) got home, but they could get restless on occasion.

As soon as (Y/n)’s boots thudded against the wooden stairs, they could hear excited cries from within, and soon a small head poked out from behind the front door before swinging it fully outward.

(Y/n) flung their arms out to catch the small body that flew into their legs, soon joined by a smaller, more clumsy one.

“You two are up rather late, you aren’t giving your mom a hard time, are you?” (Y/n) asked their children.

“Mommy said we could wait for you if we ate all our veggies at dinner so we did. We did good so we’ll grow up to be strong farmers like you!” The older of the two exclaimed.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/n) grinned.

“Yeah!” The younger child shrilled.

“Well, now that I’m here, it’s time for bed isn’t it?”

A duet of displeased noises met (Y/n)’s ears but they quickly devolved into giggles when the farmer attacked them with tickles. Once the children were disarmed, (Y/n) slung them over their shoulders and bounced them into the house, meeting the loving eyes their spouse gave them from the couch.

Penny sat in a pile of rumpled blankets no doubt put there by their rambunctious children. In her lap was a book of fairy tales that usually served her well when bedtime came around but tonight it seemed it was not enough.

“Hi, love. Welcome home.” Penny smiled sweetly, getting up to meet (Y/n) halfway. She hugged them around the middle before lightening their load by taking the smaller child off their hands.

“Hi sweetheart, how was your day?” The farmer asked, setting down their eldest child so they could remove their bag and boots.

“It went well. The children were so diligent with their studies. I was very impressed.” Penny said, making sure the kids were aware of how proud she was of their work.

“That’s great! I’m really proud of you two.” (Y/n) praised their children while they glowed with pride.

“So we can stay up late and watch tv?” The eldest asked hopefully, the parents merely laughed at the suggestion, making the children pout.

“Afraid not, sleep is very important and I think now would be a good time to hit the hay.” (Y/n) said, already trying to corral the kids into their bedroom.

“Not yet! We want a story at least!” The younger proclaimed, agreement was quickly voiced by their older sibling. Rarely it seemed they could come to a consensus so quickly.

“Oh? Well, I suppose one story wouldn’t hurt.” (Y/n) agreed. “Go brush your teeth first, please.”

The children toppled over each other, trying to get to the sink first so they could rush back to the living room.

“They have so much energy.” Penny remarked with a content sigh, leaning into (Y/n)’s side.

“No kidding,” (Y/n) chuckled, rubbing Penny’s arm, “I could have really used the extra help in my first year of living here. Now I’ve got auto-feeders and sprinklers. A little late for fall, but I suppose they could help with the spring planting, maybe that would slow them down a bit.”

“Shhh, it’ll be a long winter and I don’t need to hear, ‘is it spring yet?’, everyday before then.” Penny playfully warned.

“Your wish is my command.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling Penny down onto the couch to cuddle with her, making the teacher hum with delight and shyly steal a quick kiss.

A few minutes later, two bouncy young children crawled over their parents and wiggled into their sides and under the blankets with happy giggles.

“Alright kiddos, which one?” (Y/n) asked once they were all settled, patting the heavy book on their lap.

“We don’t want one of those stories tonight.” The eldest said.

“You don’t?” Penny blinked, confused by declaration.

“We want to know how you met each other and got married.” The eldest explained, the younger nodded along.

“It’s a long story kids.” (Y/n) said. They may have been trying to dissuade the children, but there really was a lot to cover. Seasons and seasons worth.

“What’s so long about it?” The younger child asked. “Didn’t you just know you liked each other so you got married?”

“People don’t get married right after they meet each other, honey.” Penny gently corrected.

(Y/n) definitely had a, ‘well, not usually anyway’, kind of look on their face but the warning look Penny gave them convinced (Y/n) to keep their mouth shut.

“Oh, I still wanna know though.”

“Me too!”

“(Y/n)...” Penny called upon her spouse.

“Okay, an abridged history, how ‘bout?” (Y/n) shrugged.

The children seemed content with that, once Penny explained to them what abridged meant, and looked to (Y/n) expectantly with shining eyes.

“Okay, it all started—“

“Once upon a time!” The youngest screeched, making everyone wince.

“Inside voices, dear.” Penny reminded.

“Sorry, but the story has to start with once upon a time.”

“It’s not a fairytale, you know.” The older said.

“It’s alright,” (Y/n) interjected with a grin, “it feels enough like one being married to such a sweet person.”

Penny turned away and blushed, a small bashful smile working the corners of her lips upward.

“Once upon a time...” (Y/n) began again, much to their youngest child’s delight.

***

“Oh my Yoba, this place is a mess.” (Y/n) groaned.

They had kept a brave face for Robin and Mayor Lewis, but now that they were gone, they voiced how overwhelmed they felt freely. They looked over the overgrown lot that was supposed to be the farm their grandfather had left for them.

“What if this was a mistake? Am I doing the right thing? I don’t want to crawl back to Joja but...” (Y/n) growled, thwacking the dirt hard with their hoe, “No! I just got here, I can’t quit yet.” They said, strengthening their resolve.

After a few hours of alternating between being proud with their progress and wanting to cry because there was so much left to do, (Y/n) decided they wanted to check out town. They just really needed to freshen up first.

To their dismay, but not surprisingly, the old farmhouse didn’t have indoor plumbing, but they didn’t worry because they knew there was a bathhouse in the mountains they could use.

“When I get paid, the first thing I’m gonna do is contract Robin to build a bathroom. I hope she’s as savvy with plumbing as she is with carpentry.” They mumbled to themself as they walked up the mountain path.

Entering the bathhouse, the space seemed void of life, the only sounds being the steady drip of water over the tiled floor. (Y/n) claimed a vacant locker and took a shower. After the day they had, it was the best shower they had ever had.

Once clean, (Y/n) decided they’d spoil themself and swim around in the heated pool for a bit before heading back to the farm. They put on their swimsuit and headed on in. Expecting to be alone, they hummed and sang as they made their way to the main room, enjoying the way their voice reverberated off of the walls and echoed back into their ears.

“Um, hello.”

“Wah!”

(Y/n) nearly slipped on the wet floor from the shock. A woman with vibrant, orange hair was sitting in one of the near corners of the pool. She seemed to shrink into herself under (Y/n)’s wide gaze.

“Oh wow,” (Y/n) laughed awkwardly, embarrassment flooding their tone, “I, uh, didn’t realize anyone else was here, sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” the woman smiled albeit, a bit tightly it seemed. “I was thinking about getting out anyway.”

“You don’t have to leave!” (Y/n) fumbled with the towel in their hands, “I promise to be quiet and give you your space. It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

They skittered across the tiled floor and slid into the opposite side of the bath, giving the woman her space.

A few painfully awkward minutes passed. (Y/n) leaned over the pool edge and counted the nearby tiles, the bricks on the wall... anything to occupy them until the other occupant left or a non-suspicious amount of time passed and they could leave themself.

“Who... who are you?” The woman asked, finally breaking the silence.

(Y/n) craned their head to face her, eager to introduce themself and hopefully make a better impression.

“I’m (Y/n). I just moved in. I live at the old farmhouse just west of town so you’ll probably see me around from time to time.”

“Oh, I see,” the stiffness of the strangers shoulders seemed to lessen, “Well, I’m Penny. It’s nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) grinned brightly as they swam closer to Penny, all previous worries forgotten. “It’s nice to meet you too, Penny! I hope we will be great friends.” (Y/n) suddenly splashed the water beneath their hand as another thought popped into their mind. “Hey, do you have any favorite vegetables or fruits?”

“Um,” Penny shrunk back, a bit intimidated by the farmer’s sudden approach, “Oh, I don’t know...”

“Surely there’s something, don’t be shy.” (Y/n) encouraged.

“I, I like melon?” Penny more asked than told. Her back digging into the edge of the pool a bit uncomfortably.

“Melon,” (Y/n) nodded sagely, backing up a bit from Penny’s personal space. “Yeah, I could do that! You’ll have to wait for summer though, is that okay?”

“Wait?”

“Yeah, I can start planting melon in the summer. I’d do it sooner, but the seeds won’t take. I’ll be sure to give you the first one I harvest though!”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Penny waved her hands in front of her.

“I insist.” (Y/n) heaved themself out of the warm water, “Man, Penny, I have to thank you. You’ve inspired me to get back to work! I got to see if there’s anything else I can clean up around the farm before nightfall. I’ll see you around!”

“Okay, bye...” Penny watched them jog into the changing room, gasping when the farmer slipped on the tiles but continued on their merry way. She wasn’t sure what to make of the new addition to Pelican Town, but they seemed kind enough.

***

The next time Penny had seen (Y/n) was during one of her lessons with Vincent and Jas. She had been reading about the history of the valley when Vincent had waved excitedly at someone behind her back. Thinking it was just Sam or Jodi, Penny attempted to continue on with her lesson but she soon came to a stop when Vincent took to excitedly calling after the passerby.

“Hey, farmer! Good morning!” Vincent yelled.

“Really now Vincent,” Penny lightly scolded as she held her finger over the paragraph she had been reading, “you need to focus on the lesson.”

“Sorry Miss. Penny.” Vincent apologized. “But I see Farmer (Y/n). They’re so cool.”

“They’re probably busy—“

“Hi, Vincent! And a hello to you Jas and Penny.” A friendly voice cut in.

Penny looked up from her spot in the grass and watched (Y/n) approach, their arms full of daffodils.

“What’s going on here?” They asked once they were standing next to the group.

“School.” Vincent answered matter-of-factly. “Miss Penny is reading about history.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a teacher Penny. That’s really neat. I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.” (Y/n) said, turning their attention to Penny.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know. I apologize if Vincent has distracted you from your own work.” Penny politely stated in kind.

“No worries, I’ve just been foraging around the valley. Leah posted a request for some dandelions but I couldn’t seem to find any today. I got a whole bunch of daffodils though. Would you three like to take some off my hands?”

“Wow, thanks!” Vincent quickly grabbed one before Penny could even think about declining.

Jas shyly took one for herself, still a little intimidated by the fresh face. She’d been growing a little more used to them though, thanks to Marnie’s encouragement.

“A flower, milady?” (Y/n) asked Penny again, sporting a warm smile that made the teacher feel like the heat of the day was starting to get to her.

“Thank you, this looks special.” She said, gently cupping the flower in her hands.

“You’re welcome. It’s no melon, but rest assured that summer will be upon us before you know it,” the farmer declared before spotting Willy in the distance. “Oh! Hey guys, I gotta go catch Willy to tell him about all the chubs I caught yesterday. It was good talking to you, see you all later!” They said before jogging off.

“Bye (Y/n)!” Vincent waved.

“Bye...” Penny and Jas said together, much more subdued than the young boy.

Penny watched (Y/n) until they disappeared into the saloon before turning back to her book. Her face tinged pink as she twirled her daffodil in one hand and picked up where she left off.

***

Summer rain pelted the metal of the trailer, thumping loudly with each drop, but Penny blocked it out easily as she read all cozy in her bed. Occasionally she would snap up a bit of freshly cut melon from the Tupperware resting on her nightstand and smile to herself.

(Y/n) had made good on their promise and had been pushing their fresh melons onto Penny since midsummer. Another sweet bite and Penny sighed pleasantly whilst marking her page with the daffodil (Y/n) had given her in the spring, now a dried and fragile makeshift bookmark.

The farmer was so warm, gentle. Better than anything her books could come up with and yet they somehow existed in her reality despite being too good to be true.

Since their somewhat uncomfortable origin, Penny could not have been more happy to have encountered them in the bathhouse that day. Even after getting to know each other better, even after (Y/n) had seen the messy state her mother kept the trailer in, they never treated her any differently.

“Penny,” the teacher jolted at the sudden knock and the rasp of her mother’s voice through the door, “I’m heading to the saloon. You want anything?”

“No thanks, mom.” Penny sighed. “I was thinking of making dinner myself tonight.”

“Alright honey. I’ll be back late.” Pam informed, her footsteps rocked the trailer slightly and the rickety front door closed loudly, signaling the older woman’s departure. At least now that the bus had been fixed (by who else but the resident hero farmer) her mother had less time to spend drinking.

Penny scooted out of bed and headed to the kitchenette and turned on the stove, putting a large pot on the flame. She had been trying to make something to give (Y/n) in thanks. Something for all the good they’ve been doing for the town and for treating her so kindly.

She began her experimental stew, pouring whatever she had on hand into the pot that she thought would taste good. She was so absorbed in her creation that she almost missed the knocking on the trailer door.

Penny turned off the heat and went to answer the door thinking it was probably just Vincent with another excuse why he couldn’t return his homework in time. She was surprised to see (Y/n) waiting outside.

“(Y/n), hello,” Penny greeted, beckoning the farmer out of the rain, “please come in, it’s pouring buckets out there. You must be soaked.”

“I’m okay, it’ll take more than a little rain to take me out.” (Y/n) smiled as they stepped into the trailer. “Hi Penny, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all. I was just cooking.” Penny bashfully admitted. So much for the surprise.

“Oh that’s cool. What’re you making?”

“Oh just some stew, I was actually hoping to give it to you,” Penny blushed, “for all the good you’ve done for the town.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet of you Penny. You didn’t have to do that.” (Y/n) said. They could feel their heart beat pick up in tempo at the gesture.

“I wanted to. Here, have a taste.” Penny presented a ladle full of soup to (Y/n), her blush grew warmer as the farmer leaned in close to take a taste before pulling themself to stand straight once more.

(Y/n)’s smile tightened the more they chewed, sweat dotted their forehead.

“Are you alright?” Penny asked, watching the farmer continue to chew.

“Mhmm.” (Y/n) squeaked, giving Penny a shaky thumbs up. Then they swallowed none too easily. “Wow,” they breathed, well, more like gasped, “that sure was something Penny. Thank you for sharing.”

“Is it really that bad?” Penny frowned, disappointed.

Immediately (Y/n) jumped into action, waving their arms, “It wasn’t bad at all! I was chewing so long because it tasted so good, I didn’t want it to end!”

Penny gave the farmer a doubtful look before looking down at the leftover stew in her ladle and raising it to her own lips.

“Wait, Penny—“

“Oh dear, that is vile...” Penny gagged. She hardly had so much as a sip before tossing the rest back into the pot. “I’m sorry, (Y/n). I should have tested it first...”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re learning. It took me a lot of practice to learn how to cook too.” They assured. “If you want to come over sometime I could teach you a thing or two.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt. You’re always so busy...” Penny said, already contemplating how she was going to get rid of her hot, liquid garbage.

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. All I really need to do is water the crops and feed the chickens. I can take it easy every once in awhile. Besides, I’m always looking to spend time with you anyway so... yeah,” They rubbed the back of their neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah, so if you ever want to plan something... I’d really like that.”

“Okay.” Penny nodded, nervously fiddling with her hands. “I’d like that too. Very much.”

“Cool! Nice, yes.” (Y/n) practically sparkled at the affirmation. “When do you want to meet up?”

“Is Tuesday fine?”

“Tuesday is great! This is so exciting!” Just as the farmer pumped their fists over their head, a loud burst of thunder shook the trailer. “Wow, it’s a monster out there.”

“Yes, you should stay for awhile. At least until it calms down a bit... movie?” Penny suggested, gesturing to the little DVD player in the corner.

“That sounds like a great idea,” (Y/n) followed, their hand reaching into their bag, “I almost forgot I came to give you more melon!”

“You spoil me, really. How much melon do you think one girl can eat. I’m still working on the last one you gave me.” Penny giggled quietly.

“Fall will be here before long. Best to enjoy them while you still can.” They half-joked, sliding into the seat of the booth.

Penny slid into the seat beside them and popped open the DVD player. Maybe the melon season was coming to an end, but at least the farmer who planted them was here to stay.

***

By mid fall, Penny and (Y/n) were nearly inseparable. Any free time they had they usually spent together cooking in (Y/n)’s farmhouse, relaxing in the bathhouse or curling up with some books or other media.

The day was unusually warm for fall and Penny decided to treat Jas and Vincent to a picnic in the Cindersap Forest for all their hard work. While they ate and went through their lesson, Penny saw the farmer and waved them over without a second thought. She was simply thrilled to see them and thought their presence in the woods must have been fate.

“(Y/n), wonderful timing seeing you here. I was just teaching the children about natural resources. Could I trouble you to talk about how natural resources are involved in farming?” Penny asked once the farmer came up to them.

“Sure, I’d love to!” (Y/n) nodded.

Penny stared off dreamily at (Y/n)’s side as they explained what they knew about the valley’s resources while wondering how she could be so lucky as to know them. Once (Y/n) had explained a large amount of their process, Vincent raised his hand.

“Question, Vincent?” Penny asked, impressed that the boy seemed so invested in the lesson.

“Yeah, are you dating anyone Farmer (Y/n)?” Vincent asked.

“Uh, no. No I am not.” (Y/n) laughed, rubbing the back of their neck.

“Vincent!” Penny said, aghast.

“What?” The young boy questioned.

“You can’t just ask people stuff like that, Vincent.” Jas spoke up. “My auntie Marnie told me that when I asked her if Mayor Lewis was her boyfriend.”

(Y/n) and Penny gave each other an awkward side glance. After the incident with the bush, (Y/n) had to tell someone about it, and Penny had been the unfortunate mock therapist in that scenario.

“Ah, well, no harm done.” (Y/n) laughed. “Any questions related to the topic of natural resources?”

Penny observed how well (Y/n) got along with Jas and Vincent and thought they would make a wonderful parent. When the lesson had concluded and the children were playing by the river, Penny couldn’t help but ask (Y/n) if they had ever thought about having a family before.

“Every once in awhile I do. I think it would be nice. It would make the farm more lively at least.”

And with that admission, Penny couldn’t help but hope that one day, (Y/n) might see her as a suitable partner to share their life with.

***

Winter was, well, cold.

But Penny was glad for it because there were no crops (Y/n) needed to attend to and they were therefore, more available. They spent much more time together in winter than the previous seasons.

Today, Penny was heading to the farm for another cooking lesson from (Y/n). She was getting much better with the skill. She could even get her mother to spend more nights away from the saloon with the promise of a hot meal.

Penny stepped up onto the snowy porch and knocked her gloved hand against the wooden door. She could hear clattering from within the farmhouse and waited patiently for (Y/n) to usher her in.

“Penny, hi, glad you could make it!” (Y/n) grinned as they opened the door, guiding Penny in by the waist,

“Thank you for having me.” Penny flustered at the contact, despite her thick coat blocking the farmer’s touch. “What are we making today?”

“I thought some warm snickerdoodle cookies would be great on a cold day like this.” (Y/n) said.

“That does sound good.” Penny nodded as she hung up her coat and stepped out of her shoes. Then she followed (Y/n) to the kitchen and they got to baking.

Before long, the smell of cinnamon and sugary goodness permeated the space and the chill of the winter air outside was long forgotten. They were just getting ready to settle in with a movie when (Y/n) excused themself for a minute to go grab something from another room. It reminded Penny how small the farmhouse used to be before (Y/n) had commissioned Robin for a few projects.

Penny nervously eyed the bag she had left at the door. Was now a good time to bring out the bouquet? Penny had been silently agonizing over it all day. She had bought it from Pierre almost on impulse, she knew who she wanted to give it too, but what if (Y/n) saw her only as a friend and wasn’t looking for anything different? It was sure to make things weird between them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Penny jolted in her seat as (Y/n) reappeared, something held behind their back. She quickly assured (Y/n) that it was alright and motioned them over to the couch so they could start their movie.

“Wait, Penny, can I ask you something first?” The farmer asked, still standing in the stairway.

“Of course.” Penny nodded, concern seeping into her tone. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No! No, at least, I don’t think so. I just wanted to ask if you would want to... and you can always say no, you won’t hurt my feelings... okay, it might sting a little but I’ll get over it—“

“(Y/n), what is it?” Penny asked, standing up and walking over to the fumbling farmer. She had never seen them look so shaken.

The farmer seemed at a loss. Opening and closing their mouth until finally they just brought their hand out from behind their back and presented Penny with a bouquet of their own. The teacher gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth in elation and surprise.

Without saying anything Penny bounded over to the front door and opened her bag, producing her own bouquet and delighting (Y/n) to no end as she wrapped the farmer in a tight hug.

After hours of cuddling on the couch and half paying attention to their movie, Penny decided she had to get home, despite (Y/n)‘s offers to have her stay over. She needed to make sure her mom didn’t overdo it at the saloon.

A quick glance around the bar and she noted that Pam wasn’t there. She gave Gus a polite wave before heading home. Upon arriving, she found her mother already settling into the pullout for the night and their eyes met. Pam’s eyes drifted down to the bouquet secured in Penny’s arms and grunted.

“It’s about time.” Pam grumbled before turning over on the noisy mattress.

Penny could only smile at her mother’s gruffness before retiring to her room to quietly continue celebrating in her own space.

***

By the fall of the third year since (Y/n) had moved into town, the pair became a well established couple and it was just common knowledge to suspect if one was out and about, the other couldn’t be too far off since they were practically joined at the hip.

Some of the townies had expressed worry that the farmer was shrinking off too much of their duties but in reality, the farm was a well oiled machine now and required little maintenance. The farmer had worked themself to the point of passing out on their farmhouse floor on occasion to get to this point. Money was hardly an issue anymore for the farmer who, quite literally, built their legacy on five hundred gold and a handful of parsnip seeds.

“There you are,” Penny kissed (Y/n)’s cheek chastely as they plopped down next to her under her favorite tree, “where have you been?”

“Just needed to take care of something quick.” They said, leaning their head against Penny’s shoulder.

“And what would that be?”

“I was talking to Robin. She had a request up.”

“And what did she want?”

“You are full of questions today, sweetheart.” The farmer laughed.

“And you aren’t being as forthcoming with information as usual. Usually, I wouldn’t even have to ask before you tell me all about your adventures, big or small.” Penny pointed out, “I do believe you might be hiding something.”

“No way!” The farmer scoffed before slouching a bit more because of the look Penny gave them, “Okay, maybe I am hiding something, but it’s a surprise. Give it a few days.”

“Just what might you be up to, hm?” Penny smiled, cupping (Y/n)’s cheek.

“You’re a teacher,” (Y/n) laughed again, “you should know what surprise means.”

Penny sighed before laughing along with her partner. Then the couple went in about their day and before long, the thought of (Y/n)’s surprise left her mind and she had forgotten all about it by the time Jas and Vincent’s lessons were over for the day.

A couple days later, (Y/n) had invited Penny and Pam over for lunch. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. One of the things Penny appreciated most about (Y/n) was their willingness to reach out to Pam and build a good relationship with her as well. However, what made this trip particularly extraordinary was what waited for them where their old, rundown trailer used to be.

“Oh, Yoba...” Pam breathed, a hand placed heavily over her heart as she stared up at the grand looking house.

“Robin, what is this?” Penny asked, nearly as breathless as her mother and just as overwhelmed.

“I got commissioned for a community upgrade,” the carpenter smiled, “I hope you guys like it!”

“This is too much... how can we— who commissioned this?” Penny asked, running her fingers through her bangs.

“Anonymous donor,” Robin winked before making her way back up to the mountains, “enjoy the new house ladies.”

Penny hugged her mother while she cried and together they entered their new home, unsure how they could ever thank the donor enough. It didn’t take long for the mother daughter duo to figure out the identity of the commissioner. After all, there were only so many people who could pull off such a project and have the funds necessary to complete it.

“I’m going back to (Y/n)’s!” Penny called out. It felt weird having to actually throw her voice enough for her mother to hear her across their new house.

Pam managed a wave, still a bit overwhelmed by the vast space surrounding her.

Penny practically ran to the farm, the seashell pendant her father had gifted to her mother so long ago grasped tightly in her hand. Breathing heavily, she knocked on the door and waited for the farmer to appear.

“Hey Penny, did you forget a book or something? It must be good for you to run all the way over here for it.” They laughed, “come in, do you need some water—“

“I love you,” Penny declared, leaping into (Y/n)’s arms, “I can’t believe you did that for us.”

“Did what?” (Y/n) asked, looking a bit coy.

“You built my mom a house you wonderful busy body.” Penny said, smacking their shoulder.

“What? Did Robin tell? I asked her to keep it a secret.” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n), it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you were behind that project,” Penny sighed, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for anything. I was happy to help get the ball rolling. I love you guys and you do so much for Jas and Vincent, you deserve it. Now,” (Y/n) shifted a bit uncomfortably, “what exactly is digging into my back right now?”

“Oh!” Penny pulled back a bit, but kept the pendant out of (Y/n)’s sight. “I’ve only dreamed of doing this until I met you, it’s never felt more real, tangible. Oh my, this is nerve wracking.” Penny blushed.

“Take your time dear, breathe.” (Y/n) regarded Penny with soft eyes, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“(Y/n),” Penny spoke after a moment of collecting herself, “will you marry me?”

Penny presented the pendant, her eyes struggling to look at the farmer directly, but when the farmer pulled her back into another tight embrace she melted into their arms like warm butter.

“Yes, I love you! Yes.” The farmer cheered, their voice muffled by Penny’s shoulder. The vibrations, and words that created them, made Penny giggle with delight.

They stumbled into the farmhouse to celebrate their engagement, basking in each other’s company.

“I almost feel bad.” Penny suddenly stated, curled up in (Y/n)’s arms.

“Hm? What for, sweetheart?” (Y/n) asked as they ran their fingers through Penny’s hair.

“Mom will be in that big house all by herself. I’ll still see her everyday though, it’s not like I’m moving to Zuzu City... the idea of not living with her after all this time just feels odd.”

“I can understand that. It’ll take some getting used to. Just think of how nice it’ll be though, when somewhere down the line, we send our kids to grandma’s house for visits.”

“That does sound really nice. I’m really looking forward to starting a family with you.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) said. Then they leaned in to kiss Penny’s nose with great care and affection.

***

“Then a couple days later, we were married in front of the whole town.” (Y/n) finished softly, looking fondly over at Penny.

“That’s a nice story,” the eldest child yawned, “I wanna stay at grandma’s house again soon.”

“Of course, sweetie. We’ll work something out soon.” Penny promised whilst adjusting the fast asleep younger sibling in her lap, “now, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Alright,” The older child sighed before yawning again. “Carry me.”

(Y/n) released an amused exhale before standing and hoisting their child into their arms. Penny followed suit with the other, tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.

Together, (Y/n) and Penny retired to their own room, falling into bed with tired groans.

“Those kids can be handful sometimes.” (Y/n) said, smiling all the while.

“Yes, and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Penny rolled over to peck the farmer on the lips, “love you, sleep well.”

“I love you too, sweet dreams. I can’t wait to do this all again tomorrow.”

“Neither can I.”

[bush-viper-cutie]

I’ll be your Valentine

Pairing: young!severus X reader

Word Count: 7,350

Rating: T for teen

Plot: Severus is humiliated once more by his friends in an attempt to fit in. It was a miscalculation on his part, but he couldn’t have predicted how disastrous his mistake would be. It had taken you days, weeks, months to build up the courage to confess your feelings to your crush, but what did you expect to have happen when doing it on Valentine’s day?

Warnings: Bullying, kissing, slight angst

A/N: Happy valentine’s day everyone! I hope everyone is having a good day :D Wrote this just for today and took some inspo from @violet-knox​’s the Lion, the Snake, and the Locket series, (SPOILER: more specifically the locket! :D )

Posted: 2/14/21

Masterlist

—–

(Y/n) = your name

 ~*~*~

~*~*~ = change in POV

 ~*~*~ = time skip

—–

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Severus was bent over his journal, quill scribbling across the pages at rapid speeds, feather dancing through the air as Professor Flitwick went on and on about the creation of information charms. Words like ‘impossible’ and ‘far too advanced’ only made him roll his eyes. If wizards like the Great Ciera Vela and Sir Wicksley Brightington could create inventions such as the early telling clocks or talking chips at mere fourteen years of age, then who gave Flitwick the right to deem it impossible for a seventh year to create one?

Severus jerked his head up at the sudden bang of the classroom door as it flung open, almost giving himself a horrible headache at the sudden motion.

Flitwick jumped on his stool and turned wrathfully. “Who is interrupting my lecture!” A little man, half the size of Flitwick himself, came storming inside just as annoyed with himself as Flitwick was of him, and held up a bouquet of flowers. “Ah… alright, alright, get on with it.”

The dwarf, dressed in a bright red robe with fake angel wings and a halo too small for his head, approached a Hufflepuff boy on the opposite end of the class. He pulled up his robe, which revealed his real clothes underneath – grass-stained trousers and steel-toed shoes – and took out a folded note from his pocket. “Oh Huegert,” he began in a raspy voice, reading out the poem as unenthusiastically as possible.

Severus groaned and sat back in his seat. His eyes narrowed in dislike at the Hufflepuff who didn’t seem to care that his admirer had interrupted class. As annoying as it was to hear Flitwick squeak away on a tangent about the creation of the type of charm they were learning about, he much preferred it than this.

The dwarf cleared his throat as thunderously as a rockslide down a mountain and bowed, ready to head out after completing his job.

“Psst,” a voice whispered from the back. “Snivellus!”

Severus ignored them, and turned to his fellow Slytherins instead. They all looked as annoyed as he felt and smirked when he caught their eye. The Slytherins had their own way of showing their “admiration” and it didn’t include embarrassing poems or gawky flowers.

“Snivellus!” The voices behind him snickered. “Where’s your flowers?”

“Doesn’t anyone like you?”

Flitwick went on with the lecture and Severus went back to writing feverishly until class was over. He packed his things and followed his friends out the door, keeping at their heels. He pulled out his scarf and wrapped it around once, twice, as the chill from the open arched windows blew through.

“Let’s head down to Hogsmeade. I heard the Three Broomsticks is serving red butterbeer today, bet it’ll taste different.”

“It never does. Not the green ones, or the purple ones – ”

Severus slung his pack over his shoulder and followed his friends down the corridors, out the castle doors, and down the frozen lawn. They talked about food, their significant others, and the gifts they’d given and received. Some had gotten golden cufflinks, diamond pressed watches with metal so smooth it could reflect a candle’s light from a mile away, while others had received nice ties or new shoes. They’d given expensive bracelets with dancing charms, glittering jeweled necklaces, and remarkable earrings that reformed with every wear so as to never be the same twice.

“So how’s it possible to make those woodchips talk to each other from anywhere in the world?” the tallest of them asked.

Severus pulled his eyes up from his scrappy shoes and looked at the Slytherin. He was referring to the talking chips. “They’re cut from the same wood, precisely from the opposite sides of the tree and bound with a complicated spell.”

The Slytherins around him nearly jumped, forgetting Severus was among them.

The tallest one, Zander Ervingwell, whose father owned the Daily Prophet, rubbed his chin and smiled. “That so? Then, could we chop any of these tree,” he motioned at the forest as they walked down the trail to Hogsmeade, “and make one of them?”

The others turned to Severus and he reveled in their attention. He kept his face straight and shook his head. “We could. If we could get the charm from Flitwick.”

Zander nodded thoughtfully. The rest reformed around him and they kept walking down the trail until they reached the popular little inn. They pulled the door open and were met by warmth, the smell of roast turkey, and wary eyes from the students of other houses.

Severus took his seat at the table they crowded around and refrained from ordering the red butterbeer they were all looking forward to. He pulled the strap of his bag over his head and shoved his patched up bag under the table.

“See? Tastes different.”

“I’d cut my tongue off and have Pomfrey regrow it if I were you – ”

Harold Binny and Regis Dunmarten always tended to natter about anything they could disagree on that held little to no importance. They never discussed anything with each other that could ever lead to an agreement, and Severus knew they took after their fathers, who were avid Wizengamot councilmen.

Zander looked to the others, Marcos Jugson – one of the many brothers – who was looking at a group of Ravenclaw girls, and Mumford Wilkes who stared impassively at the dark oak table. Zander turned to Severus. “You think you could make one, Severus?”

Severus stammered. “We wouldn’t be allowed to chop down any tree – And I’d need the charm…”

“If you’re so smart,” Mumford’s eyes pierced through Severus’ defenses and made him want to dissolve into the air. “Why don’t you make one. You’re always saying you can make spells but when we ask to see them they’re never ready.”

Severus wanted to disappear from the very seat he sat in. In this moment he much preferred his usual spot, behind them all, hidden from view of their scrutinizing eyes; but now every one of them looked his way, expectantly. “I can make one,” he said, as evenly as he could muster. They were all rich purebloods who could smell unease and weakness from a hundred yards away. “Easily.”

“You could get in trouble, expelled even, with the way information charms work. Sure you’re not scared?” Marcos folded his arms, eyeing him down.

Severus hated him. Almost as much as he hated Lupin and Pettigrew, but not nearly as much as Black and Potter. After all, Marcos had saved him on more than one occasion with his mere presence. And unfortunately, Severus knew what his words hid. It had been just yesterday Marcos had walked in on him pinned to the ground by a group of sixth years, three standing around with their wands drawn on him while their two ‘braver’ friends tried singeing his eyebrows off. As soon as Marcos had hexed them off, the minute their grubby hands had released his robes, Severus had crawled away behind Marcos.

It was a stupid moment of weakness fueled by fear driven by the sight of the flames bursting out of wands so close to his eyes. A mistake he’d let himself make. Severus clenched his jaw and looked him steadily in the eyes. “Of course not,” he gritted out.

Distant laughter caught Marcos’ attention for a split second, and when he turned back his lips quirked up in a smile. “Why don’t you give us a taste of your bravery then? An assurance you’ll do it.” He jerked his head back, motioning at the table of Ravenclaw girls. “It’s Valentine’s day, so why don’t you ask one of them to be yours? Its only just midday. I’m sure one of them’s not yet taken.”

Severus kept his face even and hands clenched tight under the table, unwilling to let them see how badly they trembled. He risked a glance at Zander, who looked at him with folded arms and an equally level expression. Harold and Regis exchanged similar looks, eyebrows raised, and Mumford smirked. There was always a risk when hanging around certain groups of friends, and this one constantly pushed him to the brink of humiliation.

He stood and made his way around their table to face the crowded space of the bar. Everyone was distracted, talking to other patrons or spilling drink down their faces. There was a stool knocked to the ground between him and the girls who only knew he existed from either rumor or witnessing one of his countless humiliations at the hands of Potter or Black. They’d either know him as Snivellus, or as the Slytherin who knows as many curses and hexes as there were words in a dictionary – although it never seemed to matter how many curses he claimed to know, he was never someone anyone feared.

He took a step, and then another, and kept going until he stood beside their table. He cleared his throat but it was as if he was invisible. He cleared it again and the closest one to him, the louder of the bunch, glared up at him.

Great, he had their attention… Now what? He cleared his throat again, made awkward by their obvious attention to him. “Would… Would you want – ”

“Which one.”

Severus blinked at them. “What? Oh, err… Anyone?” The look on their faces made his own go red.

“Oh? Any of us? Doesn’t matter who?” The closest one to him said, looking back at her friends with raised eyebrows and a smirk, causing a chorus of laughs. “So what is it?”

Severus wanted to turn around and bolt out the door. This had been a mistake. A miscalculation. His friends had lured him into a trap and he jumped right on it. He couldn’t run though; they were still watching most likely. This was about him proving he wasn’t scared.

He swallowed what little of his pride he had left and opened his mouth. “Would anyone want… to be…” All he had to do was say it, no matter how humiliating, how embarrassing this was. “My valentine.”

Done. He did it, now he could turn around and go back to Zander, head held high. He didn’t really care what any of them thought. He already knew their answer before he even got out of his chair. He turned around as they laughed in his face, ready to face his friends and get back to business.

“Wait! Severus!” one of them called him back.

He stopped. Turned. And stared at the Ravenclaw who had stood up. She waved him back with a shy look on her face and his heart leapt into his mouth. He swallowed it down and walked back, feeling his blood rush into his cheeks.

“Severus,” she said, shyly twirling her finger around the mouth of her cup. “I haven’t given you an answer.”

“You’re answer?” He couldn’t help the tremble in his hands now. He started pulling on the loose stitching on his sweater.

She smiled up at him… And in the blink of an eye she snatched up her cup and threw its contents in his face. “Of course not, Snivellus!”

Severus gasped as the cold liquid splashed his face, drenching his sweater. He spit out cherry colored butterbeer and wiped his face with his wet sweater sleeve. He turned away from the laughter, but it circled him. He blinked through red-tinted droplets and scanned the faces of the crowd. It’d be easier to look for someone who wasn’t laughing because every face his gaze landed on was one that made his chest constrict.

He turned to his table, to his friends. They were all doubled over with pure glee, laughing as dignified as they could all while he dripped on the floor, the mock of the inn. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, unwilling to let any more of this scene get stored in his brain. He stumbled through chairs and stools and pushed his friends aside to get his bag. He pulled it free and threw it over his shoulder. He stumbled some more as the laughter continued and threw his body against the door, throwing it open.

He ran out the door, out of the warmth of the inn and into the cold. The streets were nearly empty as wizards settled into homes or restaurants for lunch. He ran as fast as he could back to the castle, not caring about the sting of the wind as it scraped along his skin. His eyes burned and he felt tears begin to form as the realization of what had just happened began to bubble in the pit of his stomach.

He almost slipped on the bridge and as he reached its crest hands gripped his arms, stopping him on the spot. He blinked tears away and cleared his vision, looking up from the ground, ready to fight whoever had stopped him. He didn’t have to tilt his head up very far, easily staring into the eyes of another student, though he couldn’t immediately tell what house they belonged to.

“You almost bumped into me,” she said, releasing her hold on him.

“You should have cleared my path,” he spat.

She shrunk back and gripped the edge of her cloak. “Well I’ve been looking for you…”

Severus stared at her. He couldn’t possibly fathom why. He’d never seen her before, never talked to her before, and couldn’t imagine what she’d want from him. “I’m here aren’t I?”

She swallowed and nodded. “I… I have something for you…”

“Then hurry up,” he growled. It was cold and the butterbeer was starting to freeze.

He watched her open her cloak and noticed she wore a light red dress, almost pink. He wanted to hex it and turn it black from how sick of everything Valentine he was. The cloak pulled back further and she pulled out a single pink carnation with a green ribbon tying a note to its stem.

Her cheeks blushed as she held out the flower for him to take and he couldn’t help but stand there motionless, waiting for his brain to think something, say something, act and do anything other than gawk at her.

“Will you be my valentine, Severus?” she said, as if the flower hadn’t signaled just that.

He noticed his hand moving to take the flower while he remained stupefied, petrified, and perplexed. His heart, shattered and broken as it was, beat with immense longing as he pulled the flower to his chest.

“I… who are you?” He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t asking more important questions like ‘why me’, ‘is this another prank’, or ‘are you real’. He could feel the air changing around him as hope seeped into his soul, giving him a breath of new air that seemed to revitalized and mend the most broken parts of himself.

She smiled and stepped closer, making his breath catch in his throat. He could feel a warmth radiating off her, reaching out to him, banging on his walls, begging him to let her in. Her eyes looked up at his and he felt his legs go weak. He wanted to run, to apparate away and corral his thoughts, but he also wanted to stay and stare back into the depths of hers. It was different the way her eyes looked at him. He couldn’t see any hatred or disdain like so many others had in theirs when their gaze ever landed on him.

“(Y/n),” she said. “I’ve seen you around school and… Well I’m ashamed to say I’ve sort of been hiding from you.” She blushed and looked down at her feet. “Severus,” she whispered. “I’ve had a crush on you for quite a while.” She looked up at him then and gave him another one of her gentle smiles.

He accepted her words without another thought and regarded her truthfully, willing to open his heart to her. Her smile melted him, her eyes dazzled him, and, he realized finally with one long look, she was very cute.

“So, will you?” she asked again, taking another step closer.

He gripped the flower tighter and it finally hit him. She liked him. She really liked him. Someone had a crush on him and – Merlin, she was cute. Could he really be so lucky?

He opened his mouth when he realized something. She had broken his barriers and shields and so he hadn’t had the mind to analyze his surroundings. Laughter. He heard laughter coming closer. He turned and cursed the world for allowing anyone else but her and him to remain. It was the group of Ravenclaws making their way to the bridge.

“I – ” He couldn’t get any other word in before the group had reached the very spot on the bridge they stood in.

The girl closest to them spotted the pink carnation instantly, pointed, and laughed. They elbowed each other, making sure everyone had noticed him and the flower, and stopped next to them.

“Snivellus! Why didn’t you get us any flowers!” one of them guffawed.

The closest one stepped closer and crossed her arms. “(Y/n), don’t let him fool you into thinking you’re special. He just came from asking for any one of us to be his valentine. He didn’t even care which one.”

(Y/n) eye’s filled with tears and she looked up at him, expecting him to deny everything. Severus realized he’d never felt true heartbreak until now. He knew now that the shattering he’d always felt was nothing compared to the pain now, like stakes were being hammered into his still pumping heart one by one, emptying him completely.

He could lie to her. He could deny it all. But that warmth he’d felt radiating off of her… that’s what he’d imagined safety to feel like. If he could only step closer and feel it once more. If he lied, he’d be bringing thorns and barbs into something so precious and delicate.

He took a step closer to her and lowered his head, ready to feel her pull away that warmth she offered him. “I can explain it. Please listen – ”

She jerked back from him and the cold of winter swooped in to fill the air where the heat had disappeared.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

The air was cold and dry, sapping the warmth from your hands that had, moment ago, been as hot as coals from the pure adrenaline that had coursed through your veins. The amount of courage it had taken to finally admit your feelings to Severus had taken you days to carefully collect. You had spent hours pushing away your fears, and now something much worse than rejection was taking place.

Your truest crush had asked out another girl, or many other girls, and your foolishness had landed you at the bottom of his list. Was what they were saying true? You didn’t want to believe it but… he didn’t deny it, no matter how much you begged him to with your eyes.

You closed them shut and sniffed. When you opened them again you marched right through the group of Ravenclaws, right passed Severus, and headed down the road to Hogsmeade. What a fool you were, charming your old dress into one you hoped would turn you into Severus’ dream. All those breaks spent following him around, hiding behind pillars and admiring him from afar, watching how he always pushed his long black hair behind his ear when he got ready to read… Or the way he bit his lip when he paused to think before jotting things down in his journal. You’d even swooned at the way he walked, like a sulking cat trotting from one shadow to the next hoping to remain unseen. You had seen him. You had seen him and loved what you saw.

When you reached the low lamp post right before town you turned and wished you hadn’t. Severus was watching you, with his dark glimmering eyes that very rarely ever looked up from the ground. He never gave anyone his attention, but he was giving it to you now. His large nose was almost pink and nearly-invisible lines trailed down his cheek. He stood there, tall as he was despite always slumping his shoulders, holding your flower to his chest.

You sighed heavily and turned, starting back on your way down Hogsmeade’s cobbled road.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

There she went with his heart in her pocket. Was it possible? Could someone so suddenly appear in his life, shake his world upside down, and then walk away like she hadn’t just changed him forever? Love; now whenever that word would be spoken, he’d only think of her. Kindness; only her face would remind him of the definition. Safety, hope, happiness, dreams; her eyes, her smile, the softness of her curves, the allure of her scent, the wonder of what her hugs could have felt like, and that warmth that had melted away his armor. All his life… he’d never felt that warmth. Not from his mother, not from his friends, and not even from –

He winced as the numbness gave way to a heavy emptiness that hollowed him out. He began walking back to Hogwarts as if nothing had ever happened, except he’d acquired a single pink carnation. With every step he heard voices, familiar and sharp, that stabbed him with words he’d heard a million times before. He knew he was hated, despised, and unworthy of good things. He had just hoped, fueled by the encouraging gentleness of her eyes and welcoming smile, that he could finally be wanted.

~ * ~ * ~

Severus stepped into the common room and pulled on the strap of his bag, hearing several patches groan with protest as the seams threatened to come undone. He headed to the boy’s dormitory and slouched on the wall, unsure if he could make it another step without collapsing. He felt crushed, pulverized, like his life energy had been spent and he was finally coming to an end.

A door opened in the distance and he straightened, staring at the stone floor as his housemate walked by, ignoring him like a ghost in the corridors. He let out a sigh and dragged his feet forward until he reached his room. It was empty, save for a spoiled grey cat which slept on a bed.

He dumped all his things on his bed. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep until he could no longer remember how beautiful her name had sounded coming from her lips. He held out the carnation and rolled its stem between his fingers. “(Y/n).”

He set the flower down on top of his things and pulled his sweater over his head. He threw it into his trunk and toed off his shoes, settling into the bed. If he slept he’d be forced to replay the events of today in some horrible nightmare. He pushed things aside – keeping the flower close – and took out his charms journal.

He could work on the information charm and show Zander and the others how capable he was. Maybe then they wouldn’t try to humiliate him. They’d finally accept him. He pulled out his journal and reviewed his notes. All an information charm really was is an incredibly invasive bonding spell. A spell that tied two things together and forced an object to display information about the other. The telling clocks told its owners where certain people where, and the talking chips merely displayed what their partner chips spelled. As long as he kept it small, it would be easy.

For the next few hours he worked on his spell, thinking about nothing more than the charm itself. He sat on his bed, legs crossed, bent over his journal and books as he crossed things out and rewrote spell after spell. It wasn’t working. Everything he tried was too complicated. He could barely get information out of and of the objects he tried. His quills were too old to withstand the bonding spells, his journals gave too much information. He sat back into his pillows and sighed.

He needed something with more purity, something which he knew he didn’t own. He looked around the room, searching for some sort of unused object, some material that could withstand the spell to even initiate the charm… His eyes landed on the carnation he’d moved to his night stand.

Would he have been enjoying a romantic date right about now? Would she have tried to hold his hand? He would have been too nervous to do it himself but… He held up his hand and looked at it. What did it feel like to hold her hand? It would have been smaller than his, warm, and soft. He would have held on forever and never let go. What was she like? Would they have been perfect for each other? He thought of her smile and of her lips, supple and eager as she spoke…

He sat up fast as flashes of kissing her filled his head. No, he couldn’t endure this torture. He scrambled for new material and growled when nothing he owned fit what he looked for. He got out of bed and looked around, eyes glancing everywhere but the flower. He got on his knees and searched under beds until he found something gleaming and silver flashing back at him.

He rolled up his sleeve and stretched his arm under his dormmate’s bed as far as it would go. His hands found the cold metal and closed around it, pulling it back to him. It was a small necklace with silver metal beads that encased delicate diamonds. He remembered how it got there, thrown aside for not being flashy enough, or expensive enough for his crush.

He held it in his hands and sat back on his heels. It had a round charm, flat as if calling out to him. The surface would be a perfect spot to display something small… a single word… a name perhaps. He ran his tongue over his teeth and felt he was on the verge of something great. All it would take was a single spark of an idea and he could create something grand and – as Flitwick seemed to think – impossible for any Hogwarts student to pull off.

He groaned as he stood and made his way back to his own bed. He set the necklace on his knee, and on his other began to write. It took precious more hours of writing, scratching out, and re-writing until the spell was as condensed as possible; long spells never worked well, the shorter the phrase the better.

Now that he had the bonding spell perfected… what could he use? He stared at the necklace and knew the answer. He sighed and took the necklace in his hand again and began the spell. It was quick to read, and as he moved his wand over the silver metal the air began to shimmer. His lips moved carefully as he focused his intent and finally, at the last word he pointed his wand at himself.

He felt a slight breeze brush his skin and shivered. It was done. He and the necklace were bonded with him as the information giver and it, or more precisely the flat round charm, as the information receiver. He thumbed over the metal and squinted… but no word showed up. The spell was to force the metal to engrave the name of his crush… but her name did not display.

Maybe he got it wrong. He looked through his notes, flipping only the last two pages where he had condensed the spell, and frowned. It is as it should be, unless his logic was somehow flawed… but no, it rarely was. If there was one thing he could count on, anything or anyone in the whole world, it would be himself and his ability to reason correctly.

He stared at the charm again. It could be… He furrowed his brows and pinched his nose… It could be that he didn’t have a crush on her? Not a true one… not like he’d know what that really felt like. But he did like her, very much. He opened his eyes and fell back into his pillows, defeated. What was this even for? Would he really show this to Zander? Was he so foolish to believe Zander would look at her name engraved into this necklace and be impressed with him? No. He wasn’t.

So then… He sat up and looked at the flower once more, as if begging it to give him answers. Was he doing this for her? Did he really think he could fix what he’d done? Right the misunderstanding and win her heart? “I want to…” Then what must he do?

He pushed out of bed once more and dug in his trunk for a new sweater, pulling it over his head. He’d go down to Hogsmeade and find her, tell her the truth of what happened and then… then he’d kiss her. He swallowed and slowed down. Could he kiss her? …If he’d been brave enough to ask out a group of girl’s he’d never met before knowing full well what rejection awaited him, then he could ask out the kind and gentle girl who had offered him her heart so willingly.

He slipped into his shoes and headed out the door, out of the boy’s dormitory, out of the common room and ran up the dungeon stairs. He needed to find her fast before Hogsmeade hours came to an end. He ran through the castle and shoved open the doors, plunging head first into the cold February air. He sped down the slippery grass of the sloping lawn and nearly tripped out the gates. He caught his footing and continued down the trail, huffing and puffing at the exercise and hating the metallic taste in his throat and mouth.

He grimaced as he crossed the bridge and headed right into town. He checked the Three Broomsticks, she wasn’t there. He checked shop after shop, in alleys, behind houses, and even the lake’s edge and under every tree. She was not eating, shopping, wandering, or sitting anywhere in Hogsmeade. “Where is she?” he growled. Of course this is happening, he knew better than to believe luck was on his side. He walked back down the street slowly, and saw the door to Madam Pudifoot’s teashop open. A couple left, laughing and holding each other by the waists.

Severus swallowed. Was she in there with someone else? After she had realized her mistake in liking him, had she given her heart to someone else, refusing to let this day be a waste? He shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t give up hope, not this time, not with something so rare to ever happen to him. He had to believe the best of her, this (Y/n), who had so bravely confronted him and admitted to her long-standing crush on him. He knew very little about her, but he couldn’t imagine she’d give her heart out so flimsily.

He started his way back to Hogwarts, keeping at a slow and somber gait, and made it back to the castle just in time for dinner. He was too late. Valentine’s day was practically over. He filtered in with other students and took his seat at the Slytherin table. Zander was there, with a spot open next to him but Severus couldn’t take it. He had nothing to show him and after today… he didn’t know how he could show his face around him. Severus took a seat at the back of the table with some lower years and ate in silence, his hand in his pocket, thumbing over the cold metal of the necklace.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

You tried keeping your eyes on your friends, on the food, on your plate as you ate, but your gaze kept lifting to the back of the Slytherin table where a gloomy boy with inky hair sat bent over his food, barely touching it. Severus looked sad, sadder than most days. His nose was pink still and his cheeks red. Had he been outside again? In Hogsmeade… maybe… maybe looking for you? You shook your head. Of course not.

All through dinner you watched him eat alone and away from his friends. Had something happened? When you met him at the bridge he looked a mess with his soaked sweater and hair plastered to his head. And that group of girl, who so readily laughed at him… Maybe… maybe he did have an explanation for what had happened.

Your heart began to beat again, slow at first, and then faster and faster as if hope had filled your soul once more and given you life. You wanted Severus so badly, so badly it hurt and, could you really have him? Was it possible to have the boy of your dreams? If you listened to his explanation would he fix everything and give you his heart in return?

You bit your lip and looked up at Severus once more. You wanted him so bad… It was a chance you needed to take.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

As dinner came to an end, students filtered out of the great hall and into the entrance hall, making their way to their houses. Severus walked among them, defeated and empty. His arms swayed limply by his sides and his head hung low, eyes glued to the ground in front of him. He turned the corner and kept to the shadows of the walls. He didn’t want to be spotted or looked at or found by anyone. There wasn’t a single person in this prison he wanted to see, none except for (Y/n).

He dragged his feet as he made his way through the corridor and nearly yelped when two hands pulled him deeper into the shadows. He stumbled backwards and heard a door slam shut. It was dark and the thud echoed off the walls. He squinted and saw nothing. He fumbled for his wand – he always kept it on him, ready for anything – but someone pinned him to the wall.

“Lumos,” a familiar voice whispered.

Severus stared into the glittering depths of warm, kind eyes. “(Y/n),” he breathed.

Her face was pensive as she stood there, looking him over. She was unsure of him.

Before she could say another word he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the necklace. “I-I made this for you… er, well the charm doesn’t work…”

She took the necklace he held out to her and looked at it carefully. “What’s it supposed to do?”

He heaved a quick sigh and looked away. “T’supposed to display your name… er – display the name of my crush.”

She regarded the necklace and gave a breathy chuckle. “Of course…”

Severus frowned. “Of course what?”

“Of course it doesn’t work. You don’t like anyone!” She laughed and stepped back, the wandlight illuminating more of the empty classroom she’d dragged him into. “You didn’t ask out a specific girl, you asked out that whole group. You didn’t care who it was, so long as someone accepted to being your valentine. And I’m…” She closed her eyes and sniffed. “I’m just someone who has a crush on you. That’s all you care about.”

Severus blinked at her for several long seconds. “(Y/n)… I… I want to like you.”

She scoffed.

“No! I mean – I – You – No one has ever liked me and – ”

She shook her head and reached for the door. Severus jumped in her way, desperate to continue talking, to clear everything up. He liked her, he did. She was nice and warm and everything about her made his knees weak and heart pound like crazy in his rib cage. She was pretty, far too pretty for him, and her voice was soothing, and she was perfect, he just knew it.

“Please let me explain what happened,” he begged her.

She stepped closer and placed her hand on the doorknob stubbornly. “I don’t need an explanation.”

She was so close to him, he could smell her hair, smell the piney scent of Hogsmeade blown into her clothes, infused by the wind. He pressed himself to the door and looked down at her. “Please.”

The look on her face told him she was done. She was done with him and she was done talking. He couldn’t keep her trapped in this room no more than he could make her listen. And yet, he still kept on the door, not letting her pull it open. She huffed and before he could think, she gripped his sweater and pulled him away from it forcefully, shoving him back into the classroom where he tripped and fell onto a seat.

He looked into her eyes. She was fierce. Not the gentle, delicate girl she first appeared to be. There was stubbornness and power to her being. No one could control her if she did not wish it, and the only reason she still stood before him was out of that same kindness that radiated out of her.

“I’m really sorry to have done that, Severus. You don’t deserve to be pushed around like that… but I want to leave… and I will.” She turned around and stepped out of the room, letting the door close behind her.

His heart beat harder than ever before. The way she shoved him, with a calculated caution that told him even when he’d gone too far, when he’d pushed her beyond her patience, she still cared for his wellbeing. She was kind, warm, strong willed, fierce, beautiful, and courageous. The more he learned the more he wanted to her to like him…

He sat there and stared at the wall. She’d been so close he could smell her. She’d grabbed his sweater and for an instant he’d thought – he’d hoped she’d kiss him. Merlin, he wanted to kiss her now. To press this fierce girl into him and kiss her long into the night. He didn’t know how to kiss, and imagined he’d be horrible, but every inch of his body told him he was craving her with an intensity he hadn’t ever felt.

He wanted her, and he wanted her to like him. Needed her to like him again. His hands found the ruffled part of his sweater where her hands had gripped it, and he closed his eyes, imagining her hands still there.

He heard the door and his eyes flew open. Someone stepped in and closed it.

“Lumos.”

A wandlight shined and he could see (Y/n) standing there, looking at the necklace in her hands. He held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

She looked up at him and turned to necklace so he could see, although he was still too far and the engraving would have been too small. “It says my name…” She stepped closer. “If this is a trick – ”

Severus shook his head and sat up. “It’s not a trick.”

She stared deeply into his eyes. “Please explain.”

He nodded quickly and licked his lips. “Ervingwell and his friends – they had me ask out those Ravenclaws to prove I wasn’t too scared to make an information charm… I don’t know why I did it. I thought, knowing they’d all say no, it would be an easy way to prove to Zander I wasn’t as pitiful as he thought I was.” He lowered his head.

There was a long silence, one that made him feel worse than he ever had. He really was pitiful.

“May I touch you?”

Severus jumped. He looked up into her eyes and nodded. “You can do anything you’d like.” His own words made him blush but it was true. She giggled and his heart felt lighter by the sound. Her hand brushed back his hair and he closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of her finger on his temple. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I would never mean to.”

Her fingers pulled back. “You’re saying everything I want to hear… It almost seems too good to be true.”

He stood up and slowly reached for her hand, giving her enough time to pull away, but she didn’t. His fingers hovered close to hers. “M-may I?” She nodded and he took her hand, soft and small in his. “I want to be yours, if you still want me.”

She wrapped her fingers in his and looked up at him. “Do you want me?”

“More than anything.” He couldn’t help but glance down at her lips. Did he want her? His whole heart, mind, and body screamed at him ‘Yes!’

He wanted her in so many ways. He wanted to know her, to have her friendship, to feel her caring ways, to feel her. He wanted her touch.

“I want you, Severus,” she whispered.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

You breathed in the feint scent of ink and page. He was so close. His face lingered just above your and his eyes, those deep wells of pure darkness that looked your face over with lust that could not be hidden. You could tell he wanted you, and despite knowing he wanted your touch and, perhaps, to touch you as well, his eyes glanced up into yours with intensity; like he couldn’t keep himself from acknowledging your very being. You no longer felt like just a girl who had a crush on him… You felt important to him.

“I need you,” he whimpered.

Without thinking you got on your toes and kissed him hard. He didn’t need any more encouragement than that. His hands quickly found your waist and he pulled you into him with a wild neediness that made you melt in his arms.

His arms snaked around you and pulled you closer into his body. He was warm and your own hands wrapped around his neck, playing with his hair, pulling it as you pleased. He moaned and stepped back suddenly, and you almost gasped as you felt him falling back.

You opened your eyes but his hands gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He sat in a chair and waited for your arms to find themselves around his neck once more. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, tasting him, biting his lip, moving your head with his. His hands pulled you closer to him and he whimpered once more.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be. I’ll do anything to make you happy. I’ll – ”

You pressed your finger to his lips, quieting him. “Severus… I just want you to be you.” His eyes trailed down and he looked away. “I like you the way you are… You don’t have to prove yourself to me or do anything to make me like you… Just be… Mine. Just be my valentine.”

You brushed a tear out of the corner of his eye and pulled his chin up, meeting his eyes. He nodded and pulled you closer, pressing his face into your chest and sobbed. You held him close, rubbing your hands over his shoulders and back in slow gentle circles.

He pulled his face back to look at yours, as if checking to see he wasn’t ruining anything by displaying his feelings so openly. You bit your lip and smiled. Even with delicate tears trailing down his cheeks, he looked cute and dreamy, as he always did.

“I really like you.” You kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally, his lips.

He moaned and closed his arms around you again. “Will you be my valentine?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” You smiled and kissed him once more, feeling him draw you in closer.

“I’ll be your valentine, (Y/n). Yours and only yours. Forever.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

—-

General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot​

@bionic-otp​

—–

[gotnofucks]

Choose

Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Halloween Challenge! This is my first time posting here, so be kind 😊

 Character pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve realizes he can’t let you go when you’re stuck in a safe house with him.

Quote: I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Non-con (implied), non-con touching, blackmail, coercion, 18+ only. Please don’t read if you don’t like.

MASTERLIST

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 The rain was falling in torrents and how you made your way through it you would never know. It was only September, but the rain made it much colder and you were so glad that you were in a car with heating on. Steve was driving almost blind and if it were someone else, you would be scared, but it was him and so you let yourself sink into the seat and relax.

 “Take my jacket, you look cold” He said as he shot your slightly shivering form a sharp look.

 You nod and reach behind to take his jacket and wrap it around your body. You do it without hesitation and with no question. Always so trusting and obedient, at least, when it came to him. You were small, in fact positively diminutive when it came to the super soldier sitting beside you and seemed to drown in his jacket. He smiled when he saw you, and you smile back at his cheeky look.

 “How long until we get to the safe house? I am hungry.” You asked, wiggling in your seat.

 “Not long. It’s right in the middle of this clearing. Maybe 10 more minutes”, He answered, reaching over to pat your knee in assurance.

 “You’ve been there before?”

 “Twice. Nat and I set it up just after we took down Shield and then later crashed here with Sam and Buck around 2 years ago. It’s safe and cozy.”

 You hum and played with your fingers. It was only going to be the two of you this time. It didn’t bother you all that much. You would rather it be him than anyone else. Well, maybe Tony, but after him you liked Steve the best. You were one of the younger avengers, having been recruited only two years ago by Clint Barton. You used to work for a covert government organization IMF where Clint was undercover for a few years and seeing your talent with a gun and a computer, he had once asked your help in one of his Avengers missions where you met Tony Stark who immediately took a liking to you and trained you under him.

 You worked as Tony’s tech girl, helping mostly with recon missions for a few months. Then Natasha started training you for field missions and low and behold, you were kicking ass with them for nearly 6 months now. You haven’t done very difficult missions yet, and not a single solo. Mostly you’re paired with Nat and Clint or, as this time, with Steve. Tony assured you he’ll let you do a solo soon, but always lamented that ever since you got outside, he missed his lab buddy.

 You loved these small missions with Steve. He was always patient with you and taught you the drills but didn’t hold back. He would let you take the lead at times and was always proud of even the smallest achievement. At first when you had met, you had been kind if intimidated of his aloofness, but it didn’t take long for you both to bond over cheesy 40s music and your mutual love for art.

 “Y/n, we’re here” Steve announced and got out of the car. You followed, grabbing your small bag and ran through the rain to the porch. It was like a getaway cabin and you were so glad you didn’t have to stay in some dingy hole. You wanted warmth, food, and a comfortable place to sleep.

 Steve shut the door behind you and took off his wet shoes, putting them upside down near the door. You take off his jacket and your shoes too, grateful to be away from the squelching soles.

 “There’s no fireplace” You observe with a pout, and Steve chuckled.

 “Y/n, it’s a safe house. The smoke would let people know someone is living here. We don’t want that now, do we?” He gave you an indulgent smile and walked through to the kitchen, starting to unpack the supplies and food.

 “But I am cold!” You whine, and for that moment Steve realized your age gap. He gestured for you to come to him while he put the water to boil and you slowly approached him with small steps. Once you are in front of him, he looked at your damp hair and clothes, thankful that his jacket had prevented you from getting too wet.

 “You cold, huh?” He asked, hooking a hang around your waist to pull you against his chest. You stumble and steady yourself with both hands against his massive shoulders, your head a couple inches below his shoulder.

 “Yeah” You moan, wrapping your arms around his body. “How the hell are you always warm, eh?”

 Steve chuckles again and continues to cook while hugging you with an arm around your body. This closeness isn’t new. He would never admit it, but Captain Steve Rogers is a serial cuddler and you are his favourite cuddle buddy. He would cuddle you on the couch during movie nights, he would cuddle you after returning from a tough mission and he would cuddle you when you get your period. Steve Rogers was your best friend, and you felt safe with him. But you didn’t know Steve Rogers wanted to be more than just your friend. He wanted you with him when he went to sleep and when he woke up, he wanted you when he cooked and when he took a shower. No, you had no idea that the National treasure of America was in love with you.

 It wasn’t like he was hiding his feelings. He just never came out and said them out loud. Steve often believed that actions spoke louder than words and so he tried to tell you his feelings by doing little somethings for you. He learnt to make your coffee exactly the way you liked, he watched the movies you liked and read the books you read. He learnt to cook vegetarian dishes since you despised any kind of meat. More than anything, he tried to get along with Tony. Tony was your protective big brother/father, and he loved you enough to scare off every man who ever looked at your way. You were the only one in the team to have rooms on the same floor as Tony and you both shared a kitchen. Steve knew that if he wanted you to himself, he needed to get on Tony’s good side. So, he bit his tongue when he wanted to snap and gave his go ahead to things he deeply disapproved of, just to have to build back the old trust. It worked out, since Steve was one of the only people who were allowed a mission with you.

 “Will there be hot water for a shower?” You asked, body being warmed by Steve. He looked down at your face, full of childish innocence and stripped off every hardness after a tired mission.

 “Maybe, but definitely not enough for both of us” Steve commented. The vegetable stew needed to simmer for a while, so he sat you both down on the worn couch in the living room, your head on his shoulder and his arm still around you. He had hoped you would pick up on his feelings, since having you this close did things to him. Your soft body fit so perfectly into his large one that he never wished to part from you. Maybe tonight would be that night.

 “I’ll call Tony and eat. You take that shower and save me some hot water if you can.” You said and took out your phone to let Tony know you were safe and would leave for compound in the morning as planned. Steve looked at you walk away, speaking softly to Tony and wished more than ever that the rain outside would turn into a storm just to prolong your stay. He didn’t get to have you alone a lot at the compound. There were always other people around, always Wanda wanting female company or Peter following you around asking how you impressed Tony. He liked it here in this little cabin, cooking a meal for you after a hard day of work.

 “Tony says to leave early tomorrow so we can reach home by lunch. He wants to take me to meet Stephen Strange” You say suddenly, breaking out Steve from his domestic fantasy.

 “Stephen Strange? Why?”, he asked, frowning.

 “Tony and him and doing some weird wizard-avenger collab in that Nepal place- what is it called, Kamartaj- for a few weeks”, you answer.

 “What’s that got to do with you?” Steve asked, slightly irritated and hands curing into fists.

 “He’s taking me along. Says he doesn’t want me away for so long. Also, this wiz, Dr. Strange, he’s apparently some kind of genius. Tony says I can learn a lot from him. But I think it’s just a ruse. I’m pretty sure they are dating, and he just wants me to meet him”, You say with a fond smile. Steve doesn’t smile or say anything.

 Weeks? You’d be gone for weeks? That too in another country without him. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

 “You wanna go?” He asked in what he hoped was a normal voice. He wanted you to say no, wanted to see that hesitation in your eyes as you thing of being away from him for weeks, maybe months.

 “Sure, I think it would be fun. I wanna see the Himalayas and maybe I’ll visit India too. I’ve got a pen friend there who I’d love to meet.” Your reply was so nonchalant that for a moment Steve just stares, and then he is angry. Here was a perfect chance for you and him to spend time away from the overbearing presence of Tony Stark, but you would rather see snow covered mountains and meet a pen friend in India? He’d only thought you were being a little oblivious of his feelings, maybe deliberately trying not to acknowledge them as you wanted to take it slow. But it seems like you…it seems like you felt nothing beyond friendship for him at all. After all those months spent hugging and laughing together, and yet you would rather choose Tony over him. A rage settled over him and he needed to clench his jaw and curl his arm tight around the back of the couch to stop himself from grabbing you and…and doing things he had rather not do.

 “Take that shower. Leave your wet clothes outside, I’ll see what I can do with them” Steve said suddenly.

 “You sure you don’t want a shower too? We’ve got layers of grim from crawling through that tunnel.” You asked.

 Steve looked at you for a minute, eyes rowing over your small face. He took in the little acne scars you were so self-conscious about, your slightly chapped lips and those beautiful eyes that reared him in. He nodded.

 “Yeah, you go on. I’ll see if I need one” He said and went to the kitchen while you left for the bedroom with the connected bathroom.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The bathroom was nicer than you had hoped, probably Nat’s doing if the products where anything to go by. You’d removed your wet clothes outside and stood naked under the stream of warm water, sighing with relief. It was a small mission but brutal on your body. It would have been heaven to have a tub in here, but safe houses were meant to be quick and effective, and this one was way better than others, so you didn’t complain. You were just going to wash your hair when the bathroom door opened, and Steve entered.

 “Steve!” You shouted, hands covering your breast and turning so your back was to him. You looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to sputter and leave but he stayed, eyes lingering on your ass a bit before meeting your eyes.

 “Got any of that hot water left or have you finished all of it?” He asked, taking off his t-shirt and leaving his chest bare.

 Your mouth opened in surprise as your backed yourself into the corner, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your best friend had just barged into your bathroom while you were showering and showed no signs of leaving.

 “W-what are you doing, Steve?” You asked in a small voice, still covering yourself with your hands the best you could.

 “Taking a shower. I told you we didn’t have enough water for two, so I thought I’d join you. You were right anyway, we are grimy.” He said and fumbling a bit, dropped his pants down too. You panicked, not understanding what was happening as Steve stood in his boxers, taking steps towards you.

 “No. No no no no” You almost chanted that as a mantra, eyes going here and there, not knowing what to do. Steve reached your small body crowded into the corner and slowly, very slowly raised a hand to wipe away the dirty on your cheek. You started at his touch and quickly sidestepped, running towards the door. You didn’t know what had gotten into Steve, but you needed to get out of here. Now.

 You’d taken only two steps before a hand wrapped around your waist and brought you back screeching to a hard chest, back against front.

 “Stop. Steve, let me go. Please.” You said, your tears mingling with the water on your skin, one hand across your chest and other on his wrist trying to pry it off.

 “No sweetheart, you need to take this shower. You’re dirty and tired. Come.” You hated his voice for being soft and soothing still, showing no indication of what he was doing to you. His voice was still your Stevie’s voice, calm, cool, a little commanding and full of affection for you.

 “I- Steve, I don’t want a shower. Not like this, please.” You tried to break away, wiggling and crying but Steve didn’t listen and dragged you back and turned on the water again. You both were bombarded with hot water and stood under it for a minute before Steve turned it off again.

 “Gimme that shampoo, I’ll do your hair.” He said, releasing you from his hold. But it wasn’t any good as you were blocked by the wall on your back and Steve at your front. You hadn’t turned around yet, but now you did. Sobbing, with thighs squeezed tight to hide you down there and hands inefficiently covering your breasts, you looked at him with betrayed eyes. You didn’t try running again. You knew his strength; you have trained with him. He could take you down in seconds.

 “Why are you doing this? What is happening?” Your voice was small and broken, sending a pang through Steve’s heart. He loved you and didn’t want to hurt you, but you needed to see his feelings for you. He couldn’t risk you going away for months. He just couldn’t. His eyes slowly moved down from your face, taking in every inch of your body exposed, not touching, only looking.

 “We’re taking a shower after which we will eat our food while we watch some stupid movie on that laptop of yours. Then, we’ll cuddle and sleep with you on my chest and tomorrow morning you will call Tony and tell him you won’t join him for his trip to Nepal.”

 He was mad. He was insane, you were sure of it. Face burning with humiliation under his gaze, fire began sparking in your eyes. How dare this tall buff blond muffin think it okay to invade your space and demand such things from you? Just who the fuck did he think he was.

 “No. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you need to stop. Get out, or if you want to shower, let me go out. I’m done with whatever game you are playing.” You sneered at him. Steve had to smile at this, his little spitfire. He didn’t really expect you to give in easily, that’s not the girl he knew and trained. You were with the avengers because you could handle stuff others would wet themselves with. You were strong and he knew that. But he was stronger.

 “What’s gotten into me?” He asked, closing the distance between you so you were against the wall and caged by his arms on either side. His face was inches away and your breathing sped up. He looked cruel and menacing, the blue eyes you loved so much taking on a much darker hue. “You have gotten in me. You got under my skin and in my thoughts and in my heart. Now I want you under me.”

 He bent down and you were sure he was going to force a kiss on your mouth but he surprised you by pressing his lips softly on your forehead like he did when you had nightmares or right before a mission. It was a kiss of reassurance and love, and somehow, that just scared you more. Whatever Steve thought he was doing, he believed it was driven by love. And when Steve loved someone, he loved them without abandon. If he went against everyone to save his friend, what would he do to have you?

 “Steve…please…” You didn’t know what to say or what to do. You wanted to get away from him and cover yourself up to get some control back. You wanted to talk to him and forget this ever happened and get back your best friend.

 “You have two options. First, we both take a bath right now. I won’t touch you where you don’t want me to, we eat, and sleep and you go back with me to the compound like a good girl and tell everyone we are together. Or..” His eyes narrowed here, “Or, I could take you right here, right now and make you mine with little option. I could rail you deep and hard so you will feel me deep inside you for days on end. I know you’re not on birth control and I have no condoms with me, so if you get pregnant, you best believe I’ll have you tied down to myself with a ring on that finger by the end of the month. The choice is yours.”

 Your heart sank. You looked into his eyes, your whole body shaking and knees ready to give up. He was serious! He was absolutely serious, and you had no idea what the fuck happened. Just an hour ago you were sure he was the person who made you feel the safest, but now that sanctuary had been torn apart and some possessive stranger had taken its place.

 “You’re insane. You’ve lost it!” You cry, sliding down the wall as your knees collapsed, folding your knees to hide your nakedness. Steve followed you down and wrapped his arms around your small form.

 “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched. You own me, my heart and soul. And soon, I’ll have you too. How that happens is your choice. Choose.” His tone bore no argument. You had just one card to play.

 “Tony would never stand for it. He’ll find out, I’ll tell him and then you’ll be done.” You made your tone harsh and full of venom. You don’t know what you expected him to do, but it definitely wasn’t laugh. It was an amused chuckle, like a daddy who was indulging his silly daughter, full of patronizing hilarity.

 “Sweetheart, you don’t think I have a plan for that? Even if I spend months bringing you flowers and singing love ballads from your window, he wouldn’t exactly be convinced. He isn’t exactly fond of me, is he? I had a plan in place for months. I didn’t want to have to use it honestly, I wanted you to come to me of your own violation. But I just thought as a back up plan…” You screamed as he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, still wet and naked and carried you out to the bedroom. He deposited you on the bed and gave you a towel that you hastily covered yourself with. You looked behind you and the door was locked. It wasn’t any use anyway; he could outrun you in his sleep.

 Steve got his phone out and showed you the screen, making your heart drop. There were numerous pictures of you with your family and friends from the past two years. Not just those, pictures of you with your previous team, the IMF, Ethan Hunt, and others. How Steve got these pictures you didn’t know, but it scared you.

 “Everyone, every single person in these pictures has a target on their backs. I have had a sniper after all of them for over a year, mostly just to keep an eye on you and to make sure you are safe. But don’t think for one second that I will hesitate to take them out. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you with me.” He sat beside you on the bed and putting a finger under your chin turned your face towards him. “It doesn’t need to be nasty, sweetheart. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I have never been one and you can keep me from doing anything drastic. All you need to do is convince Tony that you are the one who wants me. You are the only person he actually trusts, so you need to make it believable. He has denied you nothing, and if you come to him yourself and tell him you want me…well…no one has to die, do they.”

 This was a nightmare. Everything that has happened to you today is a nightmare. You didn’t want to believe Steve would hurt anyone, but then you didn’t think him capable of forcing him on you either. If there was even the tiniest bit of chance that he could harm anyone of your friends and family…no. You couldn’t let that happen.

 “Option one”, You whispered softly, eyes downcast and lips trembling.

 “What was that?” Steve asked, turning your face up again so he could look in your eyes.

 “I choose option one. We- We eat and sleep and I call Tony I won’t go with him. Then we can tell everyone we are together.”

 Steve grinned, his happy grin that everyone said only you brought out in him. It unnerved you that a man you loved and respected so much was doing this.

 “My good girl” He praised, and then he leaned down and pressed his mouth on yours. The kiss was gentle and soft, his mouth lazily moving against yours. If it were happening any other way, you would have enjoyed it. He broke away and looked at you with eyes that sparkled. “You’ll love me too, one day. I am yours, and you are mine.”

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 True to his word, you guys ate your dinner and watched a movie as you cuddled like you usually did at movie nights. Steve held you close, sometimes brushing his nose against the side of your neck or rubbing his hand along your sides. Afterwards, he laid down beside you, spooning your small body and holding it snug against his. He was warm, and you didn’t have anymore fight in you for today. The day was too fast and weird for you to process. You vowed to sleep now and to think of a way to get to Tony without arousing Steve’s suspicion. You weren’t ready to give up now.

 You’d been asleep for only a couple hours before you felt cold air around your body. You woke up with a start and found yourself on your back, your t-shirt removed and Steve hovering over you, placing open mouth kisses along your bare chest.

 “Steve! Steve stop!” You screamed, pushing against his chest. He looked at you with eyes blown wide with lust and taking your hands in one of his, he held them up while he tweaked your nipple with his other making you squirm. He bent down and swallowed your protests with a deep kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside your mouth and tasting you while he moaned.

“Steve please,” You were sobbing now, and trashing your legs which he held down with a strong thigh. “You…you promised. You said I get to choose. I chose option one”

 Steve looked at you for a moment then kissed your cheek softly. Moving his hand between your thighs he murmured in your ear, “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t wait anymore”

[asweetprologue]

what I’m afraid to say

part two of a brand new train fic! we’ve been working on this one for a while, hope you enjoy!

part one | next 

He keeps thinking about it, though. They spend a week in the little town that hired him to kill the cockatrice, half of it crammed into the healer's tiny hut. Jaskier's wound wasn't deep, but humans are so prone to infection and disease. Geralt hovers, until the owner of the hut shoos him away. She's an older woman named Madriga with gray hair pulled back against her head in a neat braid, and she reminds him so much of Nenneke that he goes with fairly little protest. Jaskier is still on bedrest, though he's recovered enough to protest the fact, so he can't follow Geralt out of the little hut like he probably wants to. Geralt lingers outside of the small home for a few minutes, not sure what he should do with himself. He still feels a tight knot of worry in his chest, and he knows it won't dissipate until Jaskier is well again.

He itches to do something, or maybe to say something. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the blood spreading out under Jaskier's fingers, and his teeth clench around the feelings that crawl up his throat. He doesn't think his tongue would be able to shape them all into words even if he tried.

But maybe he can twist some of those feelings into action, and Jaskier will understand them. He's always been good at that, always seems to understand what Geralt means even if he doesn't know himself.

He wanders closer to the center of the town, down the stretch of road that leads to the healer's hut. The day is warm and the late afternoon sun hangs low in a cloudless sky, a soft breeze blowing a burst of yellow flower petals across the dirt path. Geralt is offered a few scattered waves from some of the townsfolk as he approaches, a novel experience in and of itself. He's not sure if it's because they're grateful for his work, or if they just feel bad about Jaskier's injuries. His playing the night before the job had been welcome in the small town, and everyone loved Jaskier. They'd been more than accommodating while the bard healed.

The evening market is just getting set up as he approaches the square, and there's a young girl, maybe just on the cusp of teenhood, sitting with her elbow propped on her table. There are several trays of baked goods set out, and Geralt remembers how Jaskier had complained that morning about the plain porridge that he's been forced to eat alongside thin broth over the last few days. The healer had mentioned something about feeding him something more substantial for dinner, and that's something Geralt can help with. Relieved to find something he can actually do, some way to show Jaskier that he cares, he reaches into his coin pouch.

He makes a few purchases from the girl—a harsh haggler, to his amusement. He can't put the rest of his plan into motion until later, but he has some supplies to stock up on after the hunt anyways. He spends a while talking with the locals until he can barter for what he can. Restocking their road supplies is easy enough, and he even manages to find someone willing to part with a bottle of dwarven spirits. He's low on Cat, now, so he shells out the coin for it and then spends some time in the fields looking for berbercane fruit. It's the right season for them, and it's easy enough to spot the bright red fruits amongst the golden shafts of wheat.

Once the sun is just barely turning the edges of the grains white gold in the evening light, he makes his way to the tavern Jaskier had played at a few nights before. The barkeep recognizes him instantly, of course, and asks him when the young bard will be well enough to play for them again. Geralt shrugs; he doesn't know. Humans heal so slowly.

He's able to purchase a decent haul: a full loaf of rye bread, a clay bowl full of thick pottage, and another with baked parsnips, beats and onions. Along with the honey cakes he'd purchased from the girl, he thinks the spread will please Jaskier after nearly three full days of gruel. After a second thought, he picks up another trencher for their host, and then he bundles the goods in his cloak to carry back to the hut.

By the time he follows the dirt path out to the edge of the town and up to the hut, the shadows are growing long. It's late in the summer season, and the sun sets earlier and earlier nowadays. It's a harsh reminder that soon he will have to return to the mountains and bid Jaskier farewell for the winter. Though at this point the bard might be better off on his own, Geralt thinks darkly. If he's only going to get himself hurt, then maybe Geralt should just… let him go.

He opens the door to the hut perhaps more forcefully than needed, hearing it bump against the chair that sits behind it. The cot Jaskier is set up on is in the main area of the two room hut, and he looks up in surprise when Geralt steps through the door. Madriga is less impressed, only raising an eyebrow.

Geralt stands there for a moment, thrown by the new, exposed bandages on Jaskier's bare chest and Madriga's knowing stare, and then he hefts the bundle of cloth in his arms and says, “I, uh. Brought dinner.”

“Good,” Madriga grunts, getting to her feet. She hobbles over to Geralt—it's a miracle that she doesn't use a cane, he thinks—and takes the packaged food from him. “It's high time for him to get some solids in him.”

“One of the loaves is for you,” Geralt adds, moving automatically to help reposition the pillows behind Jaskier so that he can sit up more easily. The bard's eyes are bright when they find his, and Geralt looks away quickly, overwhelmed. “And there's plenty of stew. If you have need.”

The healer just nods, and shuffles over into the little kitchen area she has set up near the stove, pulling out a set of bowls from a chest in the corner. After a few moments she brings them the food and says, “I'll take mine in my room. Need to rest my feet. Make sure he doesn't spill on those new wrappings.” Geralt nods, holding the two bowls of pottage, and Madriga takes her own bowl and bread and closes the door to her bedroom behind her.

“This was kind of you,” Jaskier says, accepting the bowl that Geralt offers him. A half of the loaf of bread sits in each of their bowls, and Jaskier immediately fishes his out to take a bite of the stew soaked rye. He makes an appreciative sound, his eyes fluttering closed, and Geralt is left staring. Finally he remembers his own bowl and digs in, barely tasting the dish as he sneaks glances at Jaskier. The window across from the bed casts them in a faint orange glow in the dying light, and a highlight across Jaskier's cheekbone casts his face into sharp relief. He's lost weight over the last few days, Geralt realizes. He moves a portion of his stew into Jaskier's bowl.

“You're mother henning,” Jaskier says around a mouthful, laughing a bit even though Geralt knows it makes his side hurt.

“Just want you back on your feet,” Geralt mutters, going back to his own bowl. Once they're both done, he reaches into the bundle of cloth and pulls out another wrapped package, the cheesecloth sticky to the touch. He's probably going to have to wash his cloak, but he can't care at the moment. “Here,” he says, pushing the package into Jaskier's hands.

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes, letting the cheesecloth fall open to reveal the honey cakes. “I love these. You remembered?”

Half a dozen responses hover on Geralt's lips. Of course, he wants to say, I remember everything, I'm always paying attention to you, there's nothing else. I care, I care, I care. Instead, he just says, “You rave about them every time we're in a town. Hard to miss.”

Jaskier's eyes crinkle up at the edges. He's so beautiful, even ruffled and covered in three days of sweat and old blood. Geralt aches to reach out, but he keeps his hands to himself until Jaskier offers him one of the honey cakes. He doesn't let their fingers brush in the exchange. “Didn't know you were listening,” Jaskier says, with a wry smile.

Geralt just hums around a mouthful of honey, and he burns with all the things he doesn't say.

[genshin-pals]

Corruption......part TWO!!!

Part one is here!! 

At this rate we’ll just do all the genshin characters because GOD I love this trope and y’all apparently do as well.

Characters: Venti, Lisa, Razor, Hu Tao, Qiqi, Rosaria

He hates Dragonspine. The snowy mountain only brings him sadness and pain. It serves as a reminder of a horrific battle that would end with his dear friend in pain and susceptible to suggestions of the abyss.

Anxiety consumed him when you told him you were off to the mountain, but he smiled and waved you off anyway. He regrets that.

There was a pain in his chest, fingers hovering above the strings of his harp as he stops in the middle of a song. 

Without another word he started running, running to the mountain he hated. 

It was up at the top of the mountain he found you. Kneeled down in the snow, clutching your head as something dark pulsed through your body. Tears fell. You were hurting.

Without his Gnosis, Venti’s power is limited. But he’ll be damned to leave you in this state. Taking a step forward, you turn at the crunch in the snow. Frantic like a cornered animal.

Kneeling before you, hands raise to gently cup your cheeks. He sees the pain on your expression. You’re frightened, much like Dvalin was when you first arrived in Monstadt.

“With the last of my divine strength, let me share in this curse...” 

The tips of his braids started glowing, and the boy’s form changed. Wings grew, and he was now dressed in white. However, all of that soon vanished, crumbling away as the darkness that haunted you moved over to the former archon.

Thoughts started becoming clearer, and recognition returned to your eyes. Venti...what was he doing?

Winds dying down, you stared at the other as he breathed heavily, still holding your face so gently as he panted.

“You, who have traveled the stars, also have your limits...” He forced out. Lifting his head, he smiled, despite the purple crack crawling across his face. “...but perhaps in a smaller dose, this hatred can be healed by your spirit...”

With the cursed blood split between the two of you, Venti helped you down the mountain. Windrise would help cleanse the last bits of corruption from you both.

How curious Lisa was. She wanted to know the truth of this world, but once she saw the madness that quest for knowledge cursed those around her, she gave up.

If the price of knowledge is the well being of others, it is best to remain ignorant.

Now, she’d use all her knowledge and power to save you. The witch was quite knowledgeable of legends of Monstadt, and the curse of Durin was no different.

That hatred radiating off of you was familiar. When you brought that corrupted tear drop crystal, that felt the same as you do now.

“Looks like I’ll have to play rough...”

Spell circles appeared at both her and your feet. The snowy clouds turned dark and pitch black. Lightning flashed, crashing down where you stood.

Identifying the woman as the source, you charged towards her.

But you couldn’t even get close. Thunder roared, and the air itself seemed to be filled with electro. 

This type of powers was almost unimaginable. Lisa may have forsaken the title of “grand mage”, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still qualified for it.

With all of her magic, a bolt of lightning finally struck it’s might upon your form.

The scream you let out pained the woman’s heart, but the fight was over. Rushing to your side, she kneeled down, lifting your head to rest on her lap. Gently, her hand stroked your hair.

Lisa hated work, but she’ll work as hard as she needs to in order to heal you.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Razor followed you to the mountain, met a mysterious blond boy, and you got some weird sword. The more you battled, the more you changed. 

He was scared, but couldn’t find the words to express his concern. You assured him you were alright, but he never believed it.

One night, a blizzard raged across the mountain. The two of you rushed into a cave for shelter. Strangely, the cave seemed to radiate warmth. Razor looked at the white hail outside, calling your name. When you didn’t answer, he turned around.

You started at a large red...thing, in the back of the cave. Razor didn’t like it. If it wasn’t for the blizzard he would suggest leaving. But then something else happened.

You lunged at the wolf boy, slashing the cursed sword towards him. He gasped, quickly dodging.

“Please, calm!” He shouts. “Why attack?!” 

You weren’t listening, charging once again.

This was so bad. Survival came first, that’s what his head told him. But you were his lupical, and you were in pain... He could see it in your eyes, and the unnatural cracks in your skin.

Razor wanted to protect his lupical. So he had to think. This started when you entered the cave. No...before that. When you got the sword.

Static pricked on his skin, his sword clashing against your own. With a growl, electro burst forth from his blade. 

You were slammed into the wall of the cave. Razor was fast, roaring as he drove his weapon into Festering Desire. The piercing gaze of the gem cracked, and you let out a gasp.

Slumping down, you were out cold. Nothing Razor did would wake you up.

Positioning you on his back, he would run down to the city. Through the storm and over the hills, he needed you to be okay.

Dragonspine was a good source of business for Hu Tao. Foolish adventurers who believed they could conquer nature often lead to their own downfall.

Sometimes, she goes out there herself, knowing that there are bound to be bodies and spirits that have been lost for years. The pyro spirit that followed her kept her warm as well as helped to locate the corpses. But this time, it found something else.

Something else caught her attention. A disgusting energy. But it was you.

You rushed to slash at the girl, and Hu Tao dodged. This was unlike you and she knew it.

“Trying to send me off, hm?” She called to no response. Any sense of teasing was lost. This was serious. “I see...” Eyes drifted down to the weapon you held.

Twirling her spear, Hu Tao prepared herself for a fight. “Sorry, y/n. No discounts today.” She would take you back alive.

As the fight went on, the cold was starting to get to her. How long have you both been out on the mountain? This needed to end, and soon.

Summoning her blazing spirit, she swung it around and hit you. It burned, and you stumbled backwards. 

Hu Tao was running at you, before vanishing for a moment. In that single moment, the blazing spirit appeared from nowhere, screeching into your face. 

Something grabbed your wrist, turning, you saw the girl you were fighting.

“Boo~” She said with a grin, knocking the sword from your hand and holding you down.

Vision began to blur, and all you remember is a calm, forgiving warmth...

Someone who made Qiqi not mind the warmth was now so cold.

The energy created from the sword you were given wasn’t good. She didn’t like it, and yet Qiqi was unable to tell you.

You were hurt, attacking everything in sight. Somehow, that felt familiar, as if sparking a memory.

Qiqi didn’t want you to be sealed. So she would help you now.

With her orders received, she jumped into action. 

Even when you were marked with her talisman, the battle was difficult. The strength radiating off of you was almost overwhelming. But Qiqi felt if she didn’t save you now, you would be destroyed.

It was dangerous, but Qiqi unleashed the adeptal powers within her. Snow and ice raged around you two, and the small child rushed forward once again. She slashed at your hand, the evil sword sent flying.

You gasped, turning to retrieve your weapon when someone stopped you.

Small arms wrapped around your legs. They were cold, but shockingly strong.

“Qiqi loves you the most.” The girl spoke quietly. Those were the words used to cancel her orders. Typically spoken by Baizhu with no sincerity. But now? Qiqi means those words with all of her heart.

The adepti power helped to clear your mind, and soon your eyes fell heavy, along with your body. Now passed out, Qiqi would drag you down the mountain. 

Qiqi doesn’t ask for much, but she would demand Baizhu help you once returning to Liyue harbor. She would stay by your side until you woke.

Albedo is a dead man. She doesn’t know how, but she knew this was his fault.

It can wait, though. But for now, she focused on you and you alone. If you became a threat to Monstadt, she would end you. That is what she told herself. And yet, looking at you now, she wishes to save you instead.

Rosaria was making more work for herself, it seemed.

With a tired sigh, the sister darted forward. Blades clashed against one another, and Rosaria wasn’t above underhanded tactics.

Kicking up snow into your eyes, Rosaria moved to your back, slashing hard and fast. Blood dripped onto the white snow. You were injured, so that should slow you down.

It should have, but the power possessing you didn’t care what your physical state was. You fought regardless of the blood loss. Swearing under her breath, Rosaria noted how the darkness seemed to originate from your sword.

You ran to pierce her chest, but Rosaria’s spear parried your attack, sending Festering Desire into the air. Before anything else could happen, the woman tackles you to the ground, holding the handle of her spear to your throat.

You couldn’t get up with her sitting on top of you, and the bar above your neck made it hard to breath. Senses returning, your eyes fluttered close.

With a sigh, Rosaria stood, pulling you up and onto her back.

She would head back to the city, hoping Barbra would be able to heal you properly...