#i am going to tag this earnestly look away

[driverlando]

✧.* #BABYVERSTAPPEN

synopsis: Max accidentally leaks the news of your pregnancy during an interview and he breaks the internet

before you continue- I loveee this # series so much!! if you enjoy then pls reblog and follow :)

✧.* the interview

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—

✧.* Y/N’s reaction

You hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. Glancing up from your phone, you see Max walk in with a cautious smile, holding a tub of your favourite ice cream like a peace offering. The house feels unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy you’re used to when Max comes home.

“Hey, love,” Max says, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension in the air. “I brought your favourite ice cream.”

You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me with ice cream?”

Max winces at your tone, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table. “I thought it might help smooth things over.”

You sigh, putting your phone aside. “Max, do you have any idea how many messages I’ve gotten today? Everyone knows now. Everyone.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry,” Max replies earnestly, stepping closer to you. “It just slipped out. I was excited, and I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Max. You didn’t think,” you cut in, crossing your arms and stepping back from him. “This was supposed to be our special moment. Our announcement.”

Max reaches out for your hand, his expression pleading. You pull away, your disappointment palpable.

“You’re in the dog house tonight, Verstappen.”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that,” Max urges, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. “I know I messed up, but I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help talking about how happy I am.”

Your resolve wavers for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s not just about the announcement, Max. It’s about our privacy, our moment. You know how much this meant to me.”

“I do,” Max murmurs softly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.���

You shake your head, though your expression softens just a bit. “You better. But tonight, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

Max nods solemnly, accepting his fate. “Alright, the sofa it is. But can we at least share the ice cream?”

You hesitate, then roll your eyes in resignation. “Fine. But just the ice cream. You’re still in trouble.”

Max smiles gratefully, relieved that you’re willing to share even this small moment with him. He retrieves two spoons from the kitchen and settles on the sofa beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance, the mood swings were strong today. You sit together in silence, eating the ice cream slowly, each lost in your own thoughts.

As you near the bottom of the tub, Max suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Y/N?”

You look at him, a spoonful of ice cream paused halfway to your mouth. “What?”

“I know I ruined our announcement, and I feel terrible about it,” Max begins earnestly. “But how about this—you can be the one to announce the sex of the baby. However you want, whenever you want. It’s your moment.”

Your gaze softens as you consider his suggestion. “I like that idea. But you’re still sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

Max chuckles softly. “Fair enough. But at least we’re getting somewhere, right?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek gently. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Max. This means a lot to me.”

—

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, landonorris and 1,357,147 others

yourusername guess the secrets out! (thanks max) baby verstappen we can’t wait to meet you 💘

tagged: @/maxverstappen1

view all 23,527 comments

yourbestfriend congrats!! so happy for the two of you ❤️

↳ yourbestfriend can’t wait to spoil her

↳ yourusername thank you darling! 💘

user1 hey, atleast max let you announce the sex 😂

user2 congratulations!! you’re going to be the best parents 🥳

maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️

user3 is max in the dog house? 😂

↳ yourusername yep.

—

—

✧.* the boys reactions

— Formula One Star Max Verstappen Accidentally Reveals Wife Y/N Y/L/N’s Pregnancy During Interview

By: Sasha, Rumour Radar

In a hilariously unexpected turn of events, Formula One champion Max Verstappen has found himself at the centre of a viral moment after inadvertently revealing his wife Y/N Y/L/N’s pregnancy during a live interview. The impromptu announcement has taken the motorsport and influencer communities by storm, and Y/N later added her own delightful twist to the news.

The Accidental Reveal

The incident unfolded during a press conference following Verstappen’s practice session. When asked about his expectations and what he was looking forward to in the new season, Verstappen, with his characteristic charm and ease, responded, “And for the baby to come too, the next season’s going to be busy.” The interviewer, catching the slip, pressed further, “Did you say baby?”

Max, realising his gaffe, was momentarily speechless. His face turned a shade of crimson as he stammered, “Uh, I mean…uh, no? Y/N is going to kill me.” This candid and unscripted moment sent ripples of excitement through the audience and quickly became the talk of the paddock.

Social Media Explosion

As soon as the clip aired, social media ignited. Fans, fellow racers, and celebrities alike flooded platforms like Twitter and Instagram with reactions, congratulations, and plenty of memes. The hashtag #VerstappenBaby soared to the top of the trending lists, making it clear that the news had captured everyone’s attention.

Fans and media outlets were abuzz with the news. In a move that was as swift as it was sweet, Y/N took to Instagram to confirm the delightful news. She posted a picture of a cake with pink filling and an ultrasound picture, accompanied by the caption, “Guess the secret’s out! (Thanks Max) Baby Verstappen, we can’t wait to meet you 💘.”

Max’s unintentional reveal and Y/N’s charming confirmation on social media endeared the couple even more to their legion of fans. Verstappen, known for his fierce competitiveness and composed demeanour on the track, showed a softer, more relatable side that resonated with many. His initial reaction, followed by Y/N’s sweet Instagram post, painted a picture of a couple who are navigating the journey to parenthood with humour and grace.

Messages of support

The Verstappen household, already bustling with the excitement of the F1 season, is now set for even more joy with the impending arrival of their baby girl. The couple, who have been private about their journey to parenthood, seemed to embrace the unexpected reveal with good humour. Max later took to social media, joking, “Lesson learnt! Next time, I'll leave the announcements to Y/N.”

As the F1 season progresses, Max Verstappen will have more than just his racing commitments to look forward to. The prospect of becoming a father has added a new dimension to his life, bringing a balance between his high-octane career and his personal life. This blend of professional and personal excitement has further endeared him to fans who now feel even more connected to his journey.

Despite the unplanned nature of the announcement, Max and Y/N have embraced the outpouring of support. A close friend of the couple shared, “Max and Y/N are over the moon about the baby. It wasn’t how they planned to share the news, but they’re thrilled with the love and support they’ve received and now laugh over the accidental reveal.”

Max’s teammates and rivals have also expressed their congratulations. Lewis Hamilton, Verstappen’s long-time competitor, commented on Y/N’s post, “Huge congrats to both of you! You’ll be the best parents!” Daniel Ricciardo, known for his playful camaraderie with Verstappen, added, “Can’t wait to meet Baby Verstappen! She’s going to be a little racer for sure.”

The new season

The unplanned revelation has certainly added a fresh layer of excitement to the season. Media outlets have been buzzing with speculation about how the impending fatherhood will impact Verstappen’s performance on the track. Analysts suggest that the new family milestone might provide him with an extra boost of motivation and focus.

For now, the spotlight remains on the happy news of Baby Verstappen. The couple’s playful and endearing approach to this new chapter in their lives has won them even more admiration and affection from their fans. As the countdown to their baby girl’s arrival begins, Max and Y/N are set to experience a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the thrills of Formula 1 with the joys of parenthood.

In the grandstands, on social media, and in the hearts of their supporters, Max and Y/N Verstappen are celebrated not just as a racing power couple but also as soon-to-be parents. The racing world waits with bated breath for more updates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newest member of the Verstappen family.

Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.

—

[nereidprinc3ss]

better late than never

in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer

18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!

For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about. 

A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late. 

“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie. 

“Nothing.”

When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you. 

“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”

Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers. 

“I can’t tell you,” you squeak. 

“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”

You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt. 

“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”

A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.  

“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”

You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”

“Well—"

“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”

“But… you’re not worried?”

He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed. 

“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”

“But I’m two weeks late.”

“That can happen when you’re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”

A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers. 

Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes. 

“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”

You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap. 

“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”

You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything. 

“Spence?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes. 

“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”

He smiles. 

“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”

“Always worth a shot,” you shrug. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands. 

“And the answer will always be no.”

[brokebonewritings]

You Are Not Alone - Part 1

Loki x Reader

Tags/Warning: 18+, fluff, angst, smut, hurt/comfort

Summary: Loki finds you on your own timeline, and teaches you the power of want and how to become a fugitive of the TVA

Word Count: 4.6K

Navigation || Masterlist

The rooms in your house were silent. They always had been. Ever since your Fiancé passed away. Cancer. It was horrible in the end, but you were relieved by the fact that he would not be in pain anymore.

Pictures of the both of you were still nailed to the wall in small black frames. You didn’t have the heart to take them down just yet. Even after two and a half years.

You always found yourself standing in the hallway, staring at your engagement photos. The memory of that day flooded back to you - the way he had looked at you with such love and adoration. You felt as though you would never find the same love again.

The routine your therapist had set in motion for you kept you going though. Eventually the days melted into each other. Work, Home, Walk, Repeat. Nothing ever changed. Except today it had changed.

You walked through the park by your house, but couldn't help but feel as if someone or something was watching you. Stopping for a moment you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

As you stood there trying to shake off the eerie feeling, a sudden gust of wind sent a chill down your spine. You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking around nervously. The park was deserted, with only a few scattered leaves swirling in the air.

Just as you were about to dismiss the sensation, a movement caught your eye. A figure standing under the old oak tree at the edge of the park. It was too far away to see clearly, but you could make out a silhouette of a person.

Curiosity got the best of you as you cautiously made your way towards the mysterious figure. With each step, the figure became clearer, and a sense of familiarity washed over you.

As you finally reached the tree, the figure turned around slowly. Your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with a face you never thought you'd see again - your Fiancé.

“How?” You both said in unison.

“I-” He swallowed thickly, “I never thought I’d find you.”

“How?” You were thrown off by his remark. “Wait, what?”

“I’ve been looking for you.” He said as the wind blew his dark hair in his face. His piercing blue eyes staring at you.

“But you’re dead.” You say bluntly, and the air seems to become more suffocating.

“Oh, no, I’m not who you think I am.” He starts, “I mean. I am, but I’m not whoever this timelines version of me was to you.”

“I don’t understand,” you whispered, searching his eyes for answers that seemed out of reach. “How is this possible?”

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he continued, his expression a mix of longing and apprehension. “But I need help.”

Confusion swirled within you as you tried to comprehend the impossible situation unfolding before your eyes. Your heart ached at the sight of him, so similar yet undeniably different.

“You need my help?”

“I do,” he replied earnestly, his gaze unwavering. “Do you, by any chance, work for Stark Industries?”

How did he know that? How could he possibly know that? This wasn’t your Luke. It could never be. This didn't feel right. As you stood there, grappling with the impossibility of the situation before you, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach.

“I... I do work for Stark Industries,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “But how do you know that? And who are you really?”

The man regarded you with a mixture of sadness and determination in his eyes. “We need to find somewhere private to talk, it’s not safe to speak about this out in the open.”

You looked around as if to look for a hidden figure, but the park seemed to be empty besides the both of you. Looking back at him, you nod and begin to walk towards home.

Silence hung between you as you both made your way back to your house, the only sound being the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet.

You stole glances at him, trying to reconcile the familiar features with the unsettling truth that this couldn't be the man you lost. But his presence was undeniable, and a part of you longed to believe in the impossible.

Entering your silent home, the air felt charged with tension as you motioned for the man to take a seat in the living room. He hesitated for a moment before settling down on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sitting across from him, you found yourself at a loss for words. How could you begin to unravel the mystery?

“You better start explaining.” You begin, “Who are you? Who do you work for? Why do you look like him?”

The man took a deep breath, his gaze steady on yours as he began to speak. "I understand that this is difficult to comprehend, but I need you to trust me. My name is Loki, and I am not from this timeline. Obviously.”

He looked around uncomfortably. What he was saying sounded like something out of a science fiction novel, though your career choice was almost the same.

“So what are you doing in this timeline?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You are working on a project. Project X, correct?”

“That’s classified information! How do you know abou-”

“Timelines, Not from here, I know things you do not. Yes, you are working on Project X or not?”

You nod your head silently as you stare at him.

“Good girl. I need to see some of the documents and see if they are connected to the destruction to another timeline.”

You hesitated, unsure of whether to trust this mysterious man claiming to be from another timeline. But his knowledge of your work at Stark Industries and the uncanny resemblance he bore to your deceased fiancé unsettled you deeply.

Taking a deep breath, you rose from your seat and were about to walk to your office when a sudden knock was heard at your front door. Both you and Loki jump, with cautious steps you approach your door and look out the peephole. 

It was covered. This person obviously didn’t want you knowing who was there. You knew better than to just open the door. Looking back you see the tall mysterious man hovering by the Living Room entrance hand behind his back. Armed, most likely.

Loki's eyes narrowed as he looked from you to the door, a flicker of concern crossing his features.

You take a deep breath before speaking clearly. “Who is it?”

The voice that responded was muffled, but the words sent a chill down your spine. "Open the door, now."

The tone was commanding, leaving no room for argument. You felt your heart race as you hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Loki's hand tightened into a fist at his side, a glint of apprehension in his eyes.

Without a word, he reached out and gently pushed you behind him, stepping forward to stand between you and the door. As you watched, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, Loki took a deep breath and called out in a firm voice, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

“Loki. We know what you’ve done. We don’t want to vandalize a civilian’s house now do we?”

You straighten up and grab his arm. Angry. “What the fuck did you do?” 

“I-” He turns to you, eyes full of sadness.

“What did you do?” You screamed, nails digging into his shirt.

Loki's expression softened as he met your furious gaze, his eyes betraying a deep sense of regret. "I didn't mean for this to happen," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "But we need to move quickly if we want to stay ahead of them."

“Who?”

At that exact moment, the door bursts in with force. Armed soldiers run in and surround the both of you. TVA written across their chest.

At that exact moment, the door bursts in with force. Armed soldiers run in and surround the both of you. TVA written across their chest.

The soldiers trained their weapons on you and Loki, their expressions stern and unforgiving. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding before you. Loki stood protectively in front of you, his gaze locked with the leader of the TVA soldiers.

“Loki, God of Mischief,” the leader intoned, his voice devoid of emotion. “You are hereby charged with crimes against the Sacred Timeline, yet again. Surrender peacefully, or face the consequences.”

Loki’s jaw clenched as he assessed the situation, his mind working quickly to find a way out of this predicament. You could see the conflict in his eyes, torn between defiance and resignation.

“Wait,” you interjected, stepping forward cautiously. “What exactly is going on here?”

The armed man lowers his weapon slightly, “Our little pet here thought it would be a great idea to attack a TVA officer and steal a TemPad and use it to come find you.”

You looked to Loki for confirmation. He looked at you and then the officer.

“Oh come now, I asked nicely first.” He looked back to you. “It’s not my fault she said no and attacked me first.”

Loki's words hung heavy in the tense air, his gaze shifting between you and the TVA officer. The situation had escalated far beyond anything you could have imagined when you first encountered the man claiming to be from another timeline.

As you processed the information unfolding before you, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. You had heard rumors of the Time Variance Authority, an organization tasked with maintaining the integrity of the Sacred Timeline.

But to be swept up in their world so suddenly, with a fugitive like Loki standing before you, felt like a nightmare come to life.

“Is what they’re saying true?” You ask. 

“It’s not…false. Look, I was trying to find you, and yes I may have knocked someone out to get the TemPad…”

“But why me? Why did you need to find me?” you pressed.

The TVA officer eyed you warily, clearly not used to having civilians interjecting in their operations. Loki hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the soldiers surrounding you.

“Enough with the chit chat. Loki. Come with us, or you both are under arrest.” The soldier announced.

“We don’t have much time,” Loki continued urgently. “You need to come with me if we have any hope of preventing the multiverse from collapsing in on itself.”

You looked between Loki and the TVA officer, torn between loyalty to your reality and the unknown future that lay before you. But deep down, you knew that there was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. He sighs before turning back to the soldiers. “Sorry, but it looks like we’ll be taking our leave now.”

You watch as he grabs onto your waist, and opens a portal below the both of you. Free falling onto a cement sidewalk, he held you tightly, not allowing you to fall to the ground. 

“Where are we?”

“Dublin, don’t worry. It’s still the same year.”

“Why are we in Dublin?” You looked around in shock.

“We need to lay low for a while,” Loki explained, his eyes scanning the bustling streets for any signs of pursuit. “The TVA will be tracking us, and we can't risk drawing any more attention to ourselves.”

You followed Loki's lead as he navigated through the crowded sidewalks, his demeanor tense yet focused. The gravity of the situation began to sink in as you realized the enormity of what you had just been thrust into.

"Listen, I know this is all a lot to take in," Loki began, his green eyes searching yours for any hint of understanding. "But I need you to trust me.”

“I just don’t understand why you needed to find me, out of all the different versions of me?” 

Loki's expression softened as he met your gaze, a hint of vulnerability shining through his usually guarded demeanor. "Because you are not like the others," he murmured.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity at his words, a sense of destiny hanging heavy in the air between you. “Why don’t we get a hotel for the night?”

He nodded in agreement, recognizing the wisdom in laying low for the time being. Together, you found a discreet hotel to stay in, the dimly lit lobby offering a sense of temporary refuge from the chaos that had enveloped your lives.

As you settled into your room, the weight of the day's events pressed down on you, leaving you feeling both exhausted and exhilarated by the whirlwind of emotions.

Loki stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the bustling city below as he seemed lost in thought. You watched him silently, unsure of what to make of this enigmatic man who had suddenly appeared in your life. Despite his charm and charisma, there was an air of melancholy that clung to him like a cloak.

Sensing your eyes on him, Loki turned to face you with a small, knowing smile. "We may be fugitives now, but at least we're fugitives together," he remarked wryly.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, “Yes because I wanted to be a fugitive with a God from another timeline.”

Chuckling softly, Loki sauntered over to where you sat, his gaze intense as he met yours. "Sometimes fate has a funny way of bringing two unlikely souls together," he mused.

"Perhaps being a fugitive isn't so bad when you have the God of Mischief by your side," you quipped, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Loki's expression softened at your words, a flicker of something akin to gratitude crossing his features. In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the mask he wore so effortlessly.

“Can I ask why you actually were looking for me?” You brought your knees to your chest at that moment. “It’s just, I keep thinking back to when you first saw me.” 

His gaze lingered on you, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes as he considered your question. With a sigh, he settled himself into a chair opposite you, his posture relaxing slightly as if preparing to share a part of himself that he seldom revealed.

“I-” He began but stopped. You notice the turmoil mixing in his eyes. “In my timeline, you were my wife. And as unbelievable as it may sound, you were my anchor in a world of chaos and deception," Loki confessed, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "I never thought I would find you again, let alone in a different reality."

Your heart skipped a beat at his revelation, the implications of his words sinking in as you tried to process the weight of his confession. Here was a man you barely knew, laying bare a connection that spanned across time and space.

"I don't know what to say," you admitted softly, searching his gaze for any hint of deceit. But all you found was a raw honesty that tugged at something deep within you. “How long has it been?”

“2 years, 6 months, 1 day, and 17 hours.”

“You counted that much?” You ask surprised.

“I loved you.” He says before realizing. “her. I loved her.”

A surge of compassion welled up inside you, “I understand. I’ve counted every second over the last 4 years.”

Loki reached out tentatively, his hand coming to rest on yours. "I understand if this is too much to take in," he said, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you twice."

"I never imagined...I never thought..." Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words to convey the storm of emotions raging inside you.

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a silent gesture of support and understanding. "I know this is a lot to process, but I couldn't keep this truth from you any longer," he murmured, his gaze unwavering.

Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the city outside. In that moment, it felt as if time had ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you suspended in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.

“I know I just met you, but I, I need to feel your lips against mine again.” He says softly.

Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Loki. His lips met yours in a tender yet urgent kiss, a wave of emotions crashing over you both. In that fleeting moment, the barriers that had separated your hearts seemed to dissolve, leaving only the raw truth of your connection.

As you pulled back slightly, catching your breath, a sense of clarity washed over you. “I never thought I would be able to do that again.” 

Loki's expression softened, a genuine smile gracing his features as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “For the first time, in a very long time, I feel like I have found something worth fighting for.”

“So what do we do? Run from the TVA forever?”

"No, we face them head-on," he stated firmly. “But tonight, we rest and If you’ll allow me then I would like to hold you.”

“Just hold me?” You ask, rising from your spot on the bed.

“Would you want me to do something more?”

You shrug and step closer to him beginning to climb onto his lap.

Loki's arms wrapped around you protectively as you settled into his lap, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace. The rise and fall of his chest against yours seemed to synchronize your own breathing.

His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that had long been dormant. It was more than just physical desire; it was a yearning for connection, for understanding, for a love that transcended time and space.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching your own. In that intimate moment, words were no longer necessary as the silent language of touch spoke volumes between you.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. "I may be the God of Mischief, but with you, I could never do you any harm" he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity.

It’s your turn to leave him speechless. Grabbing his face, you kiss him with an overwhelming passion. Loki was taken aback by the intensity of your kiss, a jolt of electricity shooting through him as he responded with equal fervor.

His hands moved with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, drawing you closer as if afraid you might vanish into thin air. When you finally pulled back, a soft gasp escaping your lips, Loki's eyes searched yours with a hunger that matched your own.

"I never expected to find this kind of connection," he admitted softly.

“You just found the right version of me I guess.” you say before kissing him again, this time more intensely.

Quickly taking his bottom lip, you tug as if to make a point. This time, he growls against your lips. “Darling, you’re about to learn very quickly to not play with me as such.”

You giggle before kissing him once again. His lips were soft, and he smelled like firewood. You feel his hands exploring your body before lifting you up with him and setting you on the bed. With one swift motion, he removes his shirt revealing his chest.

His gaze burned with intensity as he hovered over you, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

“You are absolutely perfect.” He says, making you blush. “Oh darling, are you blushing?”

“Will you do something already?” You burst, he smirks at his work.

“As you wish.” He says ripping the shirt you’re wearing open, exposing your breasts. “No bra? Naughty girl.”

“Loki! That was my only shirt!”

“Shh, Let me take care of you.”

Lowering his head to your chest he begins to suck on one of your nipples, causing your back to arch towards him. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth enveloped your sensitive flesh. His tongue swirled around your nipple, eliciting a heating sensation that spread through your entire body.

"Loki..." you murmured, your voice shaky with desire.

His hands continued their exploration, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin beneath your navel, drawing a low groan from your lips. You arched beneath him, your hips bucking against the sensations he created.

“Loki, I need you,” you whisper, your voice a husky plea. His eyes meet yours making your heart pound against your chest.

“I’m here, love. I’ve got you.” He says as he sits back on his knees. Unbuckling his pants, you watch as you lick your lips.

Freed from the confines of his pants, Loki's erection stood proudly at attention, a testament to his arousal. His heart was pounding with anticipation as he looked down at you, his desire for you clear in his eyes.

With a deep breath, he began to undress you next. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of what was about to happen. It had been almost 6 years since you had even been intimate. The thought almost scared you. But Loki's touch was gentle, tender, and full of affection. He didn't rush, taking his time to explore every inch of your body, making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

His erection was so hard, pressing against your leg as he worked to get you undressed. He was right there, in front of you, ready and willing to give you pleasure. And you were ready to receive it.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes on.” He says as he positions himself above you. “Are you ready to be fucked by a God?”

“Please, Loki, just fuck me.”

With a growl, Loki entered you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. Fireworks seemed to ignite inside you, and your eyes widened with pleasure and surprise. Moaning loudly, you tremble as he slowly pushes deeper into you. Tears fall down the side of your face, before he brushes them away.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“You’re just bigger than I thought.” You say and he chuckles.

“I can stay right here until you’re ready.”

You nod and smile up at him. Leaning down he kisses you softly, hands roaming your sides and chest. Moaning softly, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. Loki groaned in response, his eyes locked on yours as he thrust into you just a bit more.

Just as you were getting used to him, he pulls out and thrusts into you causing you to loudly moan. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he continued to take you. The room seemed to spin around you as the intensity of the moment washed over you both.

Your hands grip onto his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin as the intensity of the moment builds. Loki's eyes are locked onto yours, sweat coating his forehead and he finally pushes all the way in. You both sigh heavily.

"Loki..." you breathe out, your voice filled with lust. Hearing his name seemed to drive him wild, as he thrust into you harder, deeper. Your body arches off the bed, a primal need taking over as he claims you.

His breathing is ragged, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment before finding your face once more. “I need you on top of me.”

Before you have a chance to react, he flips you both. In that moment, you feel closer to him than you ever have before. His cock buried deep inside of you, your pussy clenching around him tightly.

You begin to ride him, setting the pace, your movements slow and passionate at first, then faster and more fervent as the carnal need between you takes over. The bed creaks beneath you, and your bodies move in perfect synchronicity.

Your hands grab onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh as you ride him harder. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

Loki watches you with a mix of lust and love in his eyes, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you, thrusting into you as you arch your back, your breasts bouncing with every movement. The room is filled with the hot sound of skin slapping against skin, and your hips moving in a steady rhythm.

He reaches up to caress your breasts, his fingers gently teasing your sensitive nipples. The sensation sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you moan loudly. His hips buck up to meet your every move, his eyes never leaving yours. He groans loudly as you continue your relentless pace, your hair swaying around your face, framing his face in its movement.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he growls, his grip tightening on your hips. The room seems to spin as you continue to move, your body trembling with each thrust.

You can feel the pleasure building deep within you, the heat of your climax slowly igniting and spreading through your entire body. Your breaths come in short gasps, and your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

With a scream of pure ecstasy, you arch your back, nails scraping across his chest. Your entire body shakes as your orgasm takes hold. Loki's thrusts become more erratic, his grunts and groans filling the room as he battles to hold on, to stay with you in this moment.

Finally, with a roar that fills the room, Loki thrusts deep inside you one last time before he begins to cum. Liquid white pleasure coursing through both of your veins. You collapse onto him, panting heavily as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still trembling with aftershocks of your orgasm.

Loki's hands gently caress your body, tracing the outline of every curve and contour he can reach. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, the culmination of the passion between you both.

"You alright, love?" he whispers, finally pulling away from the kiss.

You smile up at him, the love and adoration shining in your eyes. "I've never felt so alive."

He chuckles softly, his breath still labored from the intensity of your lovemaking. "Come here."

He slowly pulls out and helps you lay on the bed next to him. Resting your head on his strong chest, you listen to the steady beat of his heart, feeling safe and connected. Loki's arm wraps around you, pulling you closer to his warm body.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?" he asks, stroking your hair.

“For finding me today.”

Loki's lips press against your forehead, his eyes crinkled with affection. “I would find you in any timeline. Obviously.”

You smile, his heart reminds you of Luke’s. It was good, of course there were rough patches but he was a good person. Loki was a god, but he was also a man. As the afterglow of your passion starts to fade, Loki moves to pull the covers over the both of you.

“We need to figure out where to go from here, Loki.” You say matter of factly.

“We will, darling.” He responds, “But let’s rest for now. It’s been a long day.”

His grip on your waist tightens as if he was afraid of losing you. Your own heart swells with appreciation. Maybe by some divine intervention you were finally given a second chance. Something you had been waiting ages for.

next part (coming soon) || join my taglist!

[cressidagrey]

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 5: Hyacinth, Florist

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel showed up bright and early the day after his break ended. For a week Cassian had heard not even a peep from Azriel. 

And then Azriel walked into the House of Wind, looking none the worse for wear.

“How was your break?” Cassian asked him, taking him in. Looking no different than he ever had before. Though not relaxed. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“Can we spar?” Azriel asked in response and Cassian’s brows rose. 

Ouch. That break had seemingly not gone that well. 

“That bad, hm?” he asked, though just nodded towards the sparring ring. “How’s your Ma?” he asked and Azriel just stared at him. 

“She’s as good as she can get,” he snapped back. Right.

His expression must have shown his shock, because Azriel held still for a moment, seemingly forcing himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment...

“ I am in a mood,” Azriel warned him, finally. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I ever did,” Cassian quipped. 

He should have probably taken that warning more seriously. 

He didn’t. 

Azriel nearly had him tapping out within the first few minutes. 

There was an aggression behind his fighting that Cassian had only seen very rarely. An aggression that belied Azriel just “being in a mood”. 

This wasn’t just being in a mood. 

This was feral levels of aggression. This was being so upset that Azriel needed to hit something to get it out and clearly Cassian was that something of choice that day. 

Azriel won. Of course, he did. he wanted it far more than Cassian did. 

“You broke my fucking nose,” he complained afterwards, spitting out the blood. The nose was thankfully the only broken bone. Though he was definitely gonna feel the bruises for a few days. 

Azriel seemed on a more even keel though, so Cassian would gladly take the broken nose. 

 “I am sorry,” Azriel apologised earnestly. 

And that was that. 

Az seemed back to his usual levels of weirdness, no longer randomly wanting his first break after 500 years, no more comments about table linens…and sometimes Cassian even thought that he caught his brother smiling softly, pleased at something.

He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Cassian had more pressing problems. Like what he should buy Nesta for her birthday…Mor decided to tag along which was decisively unhelpful. How could a female who clearly liked shopping for herself be so completely horrible at choosing gifts for her family? 

“Wait, is that Az?” Mor said suddenly as they left another shop empty-handed. Cassian’s head swivelled around. 

And it was indeed Az, standing around at a flower cart, clearly chatting to the owner. 

By the cauldron, had Cassian been right all along?!?

Mor and him exchanged a glance, both of them narrowing down to their brother just a few feet away from him. 

“Which flowers?” Azriel asked at that moment, clearly contemplating two different bouquets. The female on the other side of the card was pretty, delicate with fluttering wings resembling a butterfly, and bright blue hair that was cropped close to her head. 

A Palote Fairy. Clearly far from home in the summer court. 

Maybe that was why Azriel had been keeping her a secret. Maybe it was some unfounded worry of her being a lesser fairie. 

Did Az and her take long leisurely flights over Velaris and go picnicking? Somehow that seemed like the kind of thing she would enjoy. Their children would probably end up being the most magical thing that Cassian had ever seen. He wondered what wings would turn out to be the dominant ones. The idea of an Illyrian with butterfly wings was definitely something, that much was certain. 

“Jasmine these days. She hasn’t talked about anything since you bought them the first time,” said butterfly girl told Azriel, smiling prettily at him. 

Cassian held back a noise that Mor would have never let him life down. Something akin to a squeal threatened to come out of his throat. 

Was this the female Azriel was stupidly in love with? 

She clearly seemed to be nice enough not to turn down his advances flat out, instead both of them happily chatting. 

“Thank you, Hyacinth,” Azriel thanked her as Hyacinth , which must be her name started wrapping a bundle of dark blooming jasmines for him. He handed her a couple of coins, as she gave him the flowers, not for one moment flinching away from his scars. 

“Will you be there on Friday?” Hyacinth asked him, excitement apparent in her voice. 

Where are they going to have a date? 

“I have been told that my attendance is mandatory. Because I need to learn how to swing my hips like a proper male,” Azriel responded, his usual dry humour apparent. Cassian could still only stare. 

They were going to have a date!

“You’ll have a fantastic teacher,” Hyacinth said with a wink. 

“Oh, I expect nothing less,” Azriel agreed.

A fantastic teacher. Was Hyacinth going to be the teacher? 

Mor dragged Cassian along with a hand on his arm, calling for Azriel. “Az!”

“Mor. Cassian,” Azriel greeted them, not seeming surprised at all at their sudden appearance. Nor particularly displeased about it or hesitant. 

“Don’t you want to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Mor said, sounding giddy as they arrived at Azriel’s side. 

Yes, Azriel, introduce us to your girlfriend, Cass mentally agreed unable to keep the bright grin off his face. 

What he hadn’t expected was for the blue-haired female to burst into laughter. 

“ Hyacinth is married,” Azriel said drily. “And definitely not my girlfriend.”

And Cassian’s hopes were shattered once again. 

“I am very much spoken for. He is too,” Hyacinth responded, still trying to starve down the laughter, and failing horribly. 

Damnit. 

“What brings you two here?” Azriel asked, still holding onto his flower bouquet.  

“Well, Cassian needs help with a gift for Nesta,” Mor said brightly. “I offered my help.”

Azriel stared at him like Cassian had grown a second head. 

Quite frankly, it was understandable.

But Mor had offered her input and he hadn’t been able to politely turn her down. 

“What’s in that bag?” Azriel asked, nodding to the one lone shopping back that Cassian held, sounding like he didn’t want to know. 

“Well…” Cassian started but Azriel just shook his head. 

“You know what, I don’t want to know. Come on,” he said drily, the flowers disappearing from his hand, being whisked away by his shadows somewhere. “I’ll see you on Friday, Hyacinth!” He called over his shoulder, Hyacinth waving them off the ring to the next customer. 

“Where are we going?” He dared to ask, trailing after Azriel, who walked around the Rainbow like he knew every cobblestone personally. Maybe he did. Goodness knew what Azriel’s shadows got up to when they weren’t busy spying for Rhys. 

“We’ll buy Nesta a proper birthday gift,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes. 

Mor stopped at a clothing store, staring at a dress in the window. “I’ll catch up with you!” she said brightly and off she went, leaving Cassian with this gift debacle.

 “Mor, really?” Azriel asked with a sigh as soon as she had entered the store.  

“Who else was I supposed to ask?” Cassian gave back defensively.

“Feyre? Elain? Emerie? Gwyn? Rhys?” Azriel suggested drily. “Hell, Amren would have been better.” He muttered under his breath. 

Azriel stopped at a smaller store, the dark blue signage proclaiming it an understated “ The Goldmine”. 

He had never even noticed the shop when he had been in the Rainbow, though a giggling group of young High Faes was leaving it. 

Clearly, it was well-liked in the community. 

Azriel pushed open the door, waving him through.   

“Good Morning,” Azriel greeted the High Fae at the counter, a rounded female with green eyes, a pale complexion, and curly light brown hair. She was very pretty in an unassuming way and greeted Azriel wide-eyed. 

The Goldmine was clearly a jewellery shop, with merchandise laid out in the glass cases on the walls and in the middle of the room. 

Cassian was already feeling slightly overwhelmed and he hadn’t even been asked to pick out anything yet. 

“Oh, I am so sorry, she isn’t there currently,” the High Fae blurted out, blushing as soon as she saw Azriel.  

“I know,” Azriel agreed, looking not surprised in the least. Cassian wondered who they were talking about. “She’s out shopping with Briony. But that’s not why I am here.” That also didn’t answer any of the questions he was having. “Cassian, that’s Penelope,” Azriel introduced Cassian.  “Penelope, Cassian, my brother. Cassian needs a birthday gift for his mate,” Azriel explained patiently. Cassian approached the counter that Azriel was leaning against with some trepidation. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Penelope greeted him. “What does your mate like to wear as jewellery?” She asked, all business and Cassian drew a blank. 

He could write whole books about what Nesta liked and disliked. He could. 

But right now, he had no idea. 

“Hairpins that double as Stiletto Blades,” he blurted out. Penelope stared at him, green eyes wide. 

“We…We don’t really sell that?” she offered up hesitantly, while Azriel next to him was silently shaking with laughter before he swallowed it down and decided to be helpful. 

“You had new hair combs coming in, didn’t you?” Azriel asked and for one moment Cassian wondered why Azriel knew what kind of new shipments a jewellery store got. 

“We did!” Penelope agreed immediately, pulling out a tray from behind the counter. 

Cassian heard the bell ring behind him, and Azriel waved off Penelope apologising as she started to take care of the newest customer. 

Instead, he took the tray and pushed it in Cassian’s direction. 

“How am I supposed to pick?” he asked with no small amount of trepidation at the dozen choices laid out before him. Every style imagination, in gold and silver and whatever other metal there were there. 

“Pick one that reminds you of Nesta,” Azriel said easily. “And if you only like the shape of one, the gems can be easily changed out,” Azriel assured him, as he picked up one comb, turning it around in scarred hands. 

Cassian went back to staring at the hair combs. 

Every single one of them was a separate work of art. Some more intricate than others. Some with careful engravings, some set with stones, others letting the metal do the talking. He didn’t dare to touch them, even when Azriel carefully turned them in his hands and checked them over. 

“This is moonstone and yellow gold,” Azriel explained softly as he pointed out one with a row of milky-white stones set in yellow gold. “This is amber. Probably from the beaches of Summer Court…This is white opal,” he said as he pointed out another two. 

Cassian’s gaze kept being pulled back to intricate designs with swirls set in diamonds and some kind of red stone, too dark to be ruby. Azriel followed his gaze. 

“You could have the garnets replaced with your siphons,” he suggested evenly. 

“They can do that?” Cassian asked surprised and Azriel gave a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“How did you find this place?” Cassian asked curiously. This wasn’t…Azriel had never worn any kind of jewellery. or at least none that Cassian had ever seen…Azriel picked out the comb that Cassian had picked, turning it over in his hands…and for the first time Cassian saw a thin bracelet stretching over his wrist. It was so black that it would would easily sink into the black of his fighting leathers, so of course that would have made sure that Cassian didn’t notice it. But right now Az wasn’t wearing fighting leathers but a simple dark shirt, and so it stood out more against his skin. 

“I know the owner,” Azriel answered the question, his voice quiet. His scent changed suddenly, to Cassian’s surprise from contentment to happiness. 

“Did you ever buy anything from here?” he asked and Azriel hummed. 

“Of sorts.”

“How can you buy something from sorts?” Cassian wondered. How did that even work? 

“If the person doesn’t let you pay in money, does that count as buying?” Azriel gave back with a shrug. 

What? “How else would you pay?” Cassian asked. How? 

“I get a special discount,” Azriel told him sagely. 

“For what?” Cassian asked and then his jaw dropped when…suddenly it…Was Azriel paying for whatever he bought with sex? 

His brother hit him on the back of his head with zero hesitation. 

“Not that ,” Azriel told him drily. 

“I didn’t say anything!” Cassian snapped. 

"It was written all over your face," Azriel replied, rolling his eyes. “I know the owner. That’s why I get a special discount.”

Fine. 

Still, the hair comb was a way better gift than anything that anything he had come up with lately, so he thanked his brother for that. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Azriel responded easily.

Cassian should just really give up trying to figure out who was Azriel’s special somebody. He was never going to get it right.

[momo-ceros]

the convenience store at the corner || ken ryuguji/reader

summary; there is a small konbini on the way to musashi shrine that belongs to your grandmother. forced to help out, at least there are cute boys to look at. one in particular

tags; sfw, reader is a year older than draken, draken is a simp, teenage boys being teenage boys

author’s note; momo writing something in the holy year of 2023? impossible. i wanna start writing more i think so feel free to send in requests.

You were working at a small shop owned by your grandmother after school, which just so happened to lay on the path between his and Mikey‘s school and Musashi Shrine. Despite their rowdy reputation, you always greeted them with a kind smile but also did not shy away from using a sterner tone, particularly when Mikey made grabby hands at the Takoyaki behind the counter.

His crush on you made him feel ridiculous. He was the fearsome vice president of the Tokyo Manji Gang yet uttering more than a ‚hello‘ and ‚thank you‘ towards you seemed like an impossible task. He rather take on entire gangs all himself before you knew.

How unfortunate that you did. Whatever made teenage boys think they were slick about their crushes, you didn‘t know but you wish you had that kind of self confidence in other matters. You weren‘t blind, of course you saw the way the tip of his ears flushed in a deep red when he came to the counter. Honestly, it was kind of endearing.

You didn‘t know a whole lot about him, not more than what was told on the streets. You were a year older than him, he was some high ranking member in the teenage toddler group that were delinquent gangs and certainly seemed to be the most mature. Certainly more than his little friend who seemed to love drawing dick on the review notepad meant for customers. You were certain that Draken was 99% of his impulse control.

‚Draken‘ you had heard his friends call him on numerous occasions. That and ‚Ken-chin‘, but he did not seem to appreciate that nickname too much, judging my his reaction.

‘He was sorta cute’, you concluded as you sat behind the counter, your eyes following him, as him and his friends made their way through the store, laughing and joking around.

“They are still 150¥”, you chastised in a monotone voice, looking up from your magazine as Mikey flinched and moved his hand back from the pastries in front of the store.

“But we are regulars!”, he complained loudly pouting.

“No. He is a regular”, you said, pointing at Draken, who immediately flushed faintly, trying to keep his posture, “he is a regular. You have never payed for a single thing in your life here.”

Mikey grumbled, unable to deny the fact that Draken brought everything here anyway while he just picked what he wanted to have.

“Fine. Since I am unwanted here I am going to leave”, he said, leaving Draken alone to pay for their snacks with you.

“Sorry about him”, Draken apologised, rubbing his neck nervously as he placed the items on the counter.

You started to scan the items, taking your sweet time.

“Its fine. I’ve gotten used to it. Must be annoying for you to always be on baby sitting duty.”

“He can be annoying. Real annoying. But imma still follow him”, Draken said earnestly.

“How unfortunate”, you hummed, a glint of humour in eyes as you grabbed a milk bun.

“I didn’t-“

“Free of charge. For being a loyal costumer”, you said, winking at him.

Draken gulped and dropped the sweaty yen coins onto the table.

“Thank you. I am sure he will appreciate it.”

You mulled over the thought that just came for you before shrugging. Might as well go for it.

“One more thing”, you said as you rang up his change and scribbled something on a piece of paper before handing both to him.

Draken stared in confusion at the string of random numbers.

“Uh… thanks?”

You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands.

“Thats my number, dragon boy. Free of charge. Give me a ring sometime”, you teased with a wink.

A deep, scarlet blush spread across his cheeks as Draken stuttered out a thank you before speedwalking out of the store, pushing instead of pulling the door, quickly rejoining his friends. How fun.

You watched him stumble, rejoining the group of his friends who, upon hearing the recent development, cheered for him. Boys. It was kind of adorable actually.

You stretched, staring at the clock. 2 more hours. Maybe you would close your shift and the shop to a message.

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Four: Knight Titus

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: A chance encounter with the Brotherhood of Steel allows you to escape the gulper and continue your journey. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.4k

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“My lord! I’ve got you! Knight Titus!”

“I’m going in! I got you!”

Muffled shouts and piercing screams echo through the air as the gulper you've been trapped inside starts to emit a deep rumble. Suddenly, the creature violently regurgitates you, along with its stomach and its contents spilling out. Gasping and retching, you find yourself drenched in gulper bile.

"How the hell am I still alive?!" you shout, bewildered. "And why does it have so many damn fingers?!"

"Who are you?" a nervy man asks, clutching the head of the doctor.

"That's my head, give it back!" you demand, reaching for it, only to have your hand swatted away by another man. Looking up, you see a towering Knight of the Brotherhood standing over you.

"Oh, it's the flying garbage can," you remark nonchalantly, recognizing the distinctive power armor of the Brotherhood from the claw marks you had observed when the knight had soared above you a few days earlier.

"Do not show disrespect to my lord! This is Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel! And I am his squire, Thaddeus!" the squire interjects, his voice filled with righteous indignation.

"Shut up, you little weasel," you retort.

"What's a weasel?" Thaddeus mutters to the knight, his confusion evident as he seeks clarification on the insult hurled his way. In response, the knight simply gives a shrug.

"Who are you, and how did you end up inside that gulper?" Knight Titus demands, his voice resonating with authority.

"I don't have time for you tin cans!" you dismissively huff, frustration evident in your voice as you lunge at Thaddeus, causing him to shriek in terror. The dog, miraculously still present, begins barking loudly at the commotion. Amidst the chaos, Knight Titus remains motionless, silently observing the scene.

“My lord! She’s feral!” Thaddeus cries out in fear, clinging to the head.

"Just give me the damn head! And stop squealing like that," you demand, your voice laced with irritation as you mindlessly slap Thaddeus in your disoriented state. As a seasoned bounty hunter, you are typically much more composed and intimidating, but the ordeal of being trapped inside a gulper's stomach has left your mind foggy and your actions uncharacteristically erratic.

You hear heavy footsteps approaching, unmistakably the sound of power armor. Knight Titus lifts you up by the collar of your shirt, leaving you suspended in the air while Thaddeus manages to stand up.

“Why are you so mean?” Thaddeus exclaims earnestly.

“She’s a bounty hunter,” Knight Titus confirms, his tone steady and authoritative as he presumably looks you over. It’s always so hard to tell what those damn Brotherhood Knights are thinking. Without warning, he offers a brief apology before delivering a powerful punch to your face, sending you spiraling into unconsciousness.

Head pounding, you gradually sit up and survey your surroundings, realizing that the two men and the head are nowhere to be seen. Even the dog has skipped out on you, leaving you alone. Luckily, your bag is still with you, and you begin to rummage through it in search of any meds. Upon finding the vials you used to bribe the ghoul, now broken and rendered useless, you let out a frustrated breath. "Yeah, he definitely wasn’t coming back for me," you mutter.

With a sense of relief, you salvage a single stimpak and a supply of rad-away from your bag and use both items. Covered in a grimy mixture of gulper bile, dirt, and dried blood, you realize that it's definitely time for wash. Seeing no signs of any creatures around, you determine you’re in the clear to safely wash.

Without bothering to shed your soiled clothes and armor, reasoning that they could use a good wash as well, you wade into the cool waters of the flooded ruins. The water envelops you, washing away the layers of grime and filth that cling to your skin and clothes. The coolness soothes your aching muscles and clears your mind.

After what feels like an eternity, you emerge from the water, feeling slightly refreshed. As you step out onto the dry soil, the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the wasteland. You begin to wonder where the ghoul could’ve gone. He obviously dragged the vault dweller with him and needs more of those vials. Unfortunately the few vials you had you scavenged off of feral ghouls you took down so you truly have no clue where one goes to purchase them.

Your boots squish with every step, a sensation you despise, but there's little you can do about it. Glancing down, you notice that your clothes are worse for wear, prompting you to make a mental note to buy something new, by wasteland standards, at the next settlement you come across. You sort through your bag, discarding any broken or unnecessary items. All that remains is some ammo, a canister of somewhat purified water, a small stash of caps, and the Pip-Boy you seldom use. I wonder if there's a Super Duper Mart nearby, you think to yourself.

Throwing the bag over your shoulder and ensuring your weapons are secure, you set out in search of a store to scavenge. Concerned that your weapons may be too soaked to function properly, you make sure you still have the large hunting knife strapped to your thigh. The darkness begins to descend, but you remain determined to press forward, keeping a watchful eye for anything dangerous.

As you navigate through the fading light, your eyes scan the horizon for any signs of civilization. The wasteland stretches out before you, a desolate expanse of ruins and decay. The only sound is the distant howling of the wind, carrying with it the haunting whispers of the forgotten world.

The landscape begins to change, the remnants of buildings becoming more frequent. You spot the crumbling remains of what was once a small town. You check each building cautiously but nothing of value is found. In one building, you come across a dead ghoul with a gunshot wound to the head and… whose ass cheeks have been stripped for meat. This world is unforgiving but the idea of resorting to cannibalism is something you simply cannot fathom and hope to never encounter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a decrepit stairwell and carefully head upstairs. At the top, a cozy setup greets you - a dirty mattress, an oil lamp, and a few old yum-yum deviled eggs. This must have been the makeshift home of the ghoul from below. Despite his grim fate, you're thankful for the somewhat snug spot to rest for the night. You aren’t too concerned about whatever cannibal stripped him of meat since they are most likely long gone by now. Settling down on the mattress, your eyes grow heavy and you swiftly fall asleep.

As you slowly awake to the morning light filtering through the boarded-up window, you feel a tugging sensation on your left leg. Startled, you look down to see a tiny radroach attempting to nibble on you. Reacting quickly with a loud shriek, you kick its face and draw your knife, stabbing it repeatedly until it stops moving. Taking a deep breath, you lean back against the wall and open the yum-yum deviled eggs. Chewing through them, you defiantly welcome the day with a loud “Good fucking morning to you, too, wasteland!”

After finishing the deviled eggs and taking a swig of water, you prepare for the day ahead. Double-checking the contents of your bag and inspecting your weapons that had gotten wet the day before, everything appears to be in working order. Satisfied, you descend the stairs and step out through the front door. The scorching heat of the day is already intense, with the sun's rays beating down on the sandy ground. Your attention is drawn to a trail of footprints, two distinct pairs, which prompts you to follow out of curiosity.

With each step, the trail of footprints becomes more defined, leading you closer to the ruins of a city. The skeletal remains of skyscrapers loom ahead of you, their shattered windows like hollow eyes, observing your progress. The trail winds its way through the eerie maze of desolation, navigating past rusted cars and collapsed structures. Before you know it, you hear a man and woman talking up ahead in front of a Super Duper Mart. You quickly hide behind a nearby building and peer around the corner

It’s that fucking ghoul and vault dweller.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 9

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : After relapsing, Y/N wakes up next to Marshall. She confronts Cassie and has an anxiety attack.

Tags : Angst, Comfort

CW : Bullying, Alcohol, Drugs, Relapse, Anxiety attack, Mention of masturbation

When you woke up, you were feeling groggy and nauseous. You groaned at the memory from last night. You felt some stirring beside you. It was Marshall, laying next to you on top of the covers. 

Hey, he said in a raspy voice. How are you feeling ? Better ? 

Mmmmh, you moaned. 

He groaned and yawned. 

How about we try some words ? He asked. How are you feeling, Y/N ? 

Ashamed, you mumbled. 

Shocker. 

You stared at him as he rubbed his eyes. You couldn’t help but think that he looked perfect, even in the morning. He was pretty damn sexy, only wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt on. He scratched his beard before looking at you. 

Did you sleep here ? You asked. 

No, I slept in the garden but decided to come back here before you woke up, he said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Yes I slept here. I wanted to make sure you were alright. 

Thanks, you said. You could have slept in your bedroom, you know ? Instead of here with me. 

And risk finding you dead in a puddle of your own barf ? Nope, he groaned. I don’t feel like having forensics in the house on a Sunday morning. The press would have a field day, though. 

Oh my God, the press…, you murmured as you remembered the flashing camera from last night. 

I called Paul after you fell asleep, he said. He’s going to try and get the picture deleted. He gave me so much shit about it. 

I’m sorry, you whispered as you took your face in your hands. 

You were embarrassed. There was so much that you needed to apologize for. 

It’s fine, he shrugged. It’s Paul anyway. He gives me shit all the time. That’s kind of his job, you know ? 

I’m so sorry I ruined your night… 

You didn’t, he said in a softer voice. I mean, I could have done without the worry, for sure, but my night pretty much sucked anyway. 

Why ? You asked. 

I hate that kind of events, he shrugged. I was there because the Lions PR Team wanted me to do some promo shit. I was supposed to meet someone there to talk about that but I ended up swarmed by drunk people bugging me about the album. And then, I had to take some ho to my place, he chuckled.

God, I am so embarrassed, you whined. 

About what part exactly ? He grinned. 

All of it ? You said. I mean, you had to help my grown-ass to undress and shower and you held my hair while I threw up. That’s pretty damn embarrassing. 

He chuckled and looked at you. 

Yup, he simply said. 

I’d say the outfit and kissing people was pretty embarrassing, too. And… Oh my God I danced, too, you whined. 

Oh yeah. That was some dancing, he grinned. 

Just kill me, please, you whined. 

He let out a laugh as you buried your face in your hands. Suddenly, the idea of digging a hole and dying there was quite appealing.

It’s fine, he said with a chuckle. I mean, you got some good moves. Didn’t expect you to, to be honest. 

Yeah, I don’t know about that… 

It wasn’t that bad, I promise. You put on quite a show on the dance floor. 

God, I made a fool of myself, you sighed. 

I don’t think you did, he said earnestly. Everyone there was doing the same thing anyway… But yeah, that was a bit foolish. I mean, it’s just not you, Y/N. 

You nodded softly. 

I don’t deserve you being so nice to me, you sighed. 

Me being an ass to you wouldn’t help matters, he shrugged. Besides, you already know what you did wrong. You’re a grown woman. 

I thought you were going to kill me, back there, you whispered. 

Dramatic, much ? He chuckled. I mean, yeah, I wasn’t really pleased with you. I was mostly worried, though… 

Mmmh. 

I thought you were doing good, you know ? He explained. You were sober for, what… Four months ? 

Yeah, going on five, you said with a hint of sadness. And now I threw it all away…

Slipping… it happens, he said. What matters is that you’re able to dust yourself off and try again. 

Easy for you to say, you mumbled. You’ve been sober for fifteen years. 

He scoffed and shook his head. 

You’re not the only person it happens to, you know ? He sighed. I’ve tried to quit a few times before I managed to stop for good. I’ve slipped-up and relapsed a few times. Even after rehab. 

You did ? You asked. 

Yeah. So I’ve been there and I know how you feel. I just wish I would have known you were struggling, he said. 

I wasn’t struggling, you said. I mean… There were times lately, when I missed drinking, but that’s about it. I think that… I have been feeling a bit lonely, mostly. 

You didn’t tell me that, he pointed out. 

Does it matter ? 

Of course it does, he said softly. You matter. 

You let out a small “aw” and blushed. He sat up and stroked your shoulder. 

So, what happened last night that led you to this ? Walk me through it, ok ? 

You sighed and proceeded to tell him everything. How happy you were to see Cassie, how generous and kind she was to you and how much you didn’t want to disappoint her or let her down. How her calling you a dud made you want to gain her approval so badly. You also mentioned that, regardless of the fact that you had messed up, you looked up to her and you wished you could be more like her but only seemed to get as sociable when you were under the influence. 

This girl is a bully, he scoffed. 

No she’s not, you replied. 

That’s high school mean girl 101, Y/N, he said. You do realize she used you as a prop, right ? She played with you like a doll, she dressed you up in that skimpy outfit, ignored you when she wanted to flirt with people and used you to arouse men, either by kissing you or suggesting threesomes…

Well, if you put it like that, it does make her look pretty bad, you mumbled. But she’s my friend ! 

She's not, he groaned. Talia is your friend. Jamal is your friend. I am your friend. This girl ? Nope. 

You sighed. Maybe he was right on some level, but you didn’t want to hear it. After all, Cassie had been there for you numerous times. 

Well, I have to see her today, you said. I still have stuff in her hotel room. 

I’ll take you, he offered. But first, we should discuss what you’re going to do. 

That’s fair. What am I going to do ? 

First, you’re going to tell Talia and Jamal as soon as I take you home. They’re your roommates and they deserve to know that kind of thing. Lying about it would be a shitty idea anyway, he said. 

Talia’s going to kill me, you said. 

She’s not, he said softly. Then, first thing tomorrow, you’re going to a meeting and calling your sponsor. 

Meetings are on wednesday, you said. 

I’ll get you an appointment with a therapist, then. You need to see someone. The earlier the better. If today wasn’t Sunday, you’d be there already. 

You nodded, but tears were welling in your eyes. 

I can’t do it, you said as you choked on your words. Marshall, I just… I can’t. I can’t face people and tell them I fucked up. 

Hey, he said softly as he took your hand in his. Yes you can, and you will. Shit happens. Do you remember what I said when I took you to the observatory ? 

That I’m not alone ? 

Exactly. Your road to recovery doesn’t have to be a lonely one, he reminded you as he stroked your cheek. I got you. So do Talia and Jamal. The others at the studio too. They love you. 

They do ? You asked. 

Yeah. Everyone thinks you’re great. They keep going on about how cute you are. Especially when you fall asleep on the couch, he chuckled. 

Thank you, you whispered as you let your head roll on his shoulder. I love them too, you know ? 

He kissed the top of your head and decided to get up. 

Get up, Dobby, I’ll make you breakfast, he said. 

Are you really going to call me that ? You groaned before letting out a yawn. 

Yep, he said with a smile. You were right, you do look like a house elf in my tee-shirt. 

I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Harry Potter fan, you said with a grin. 

My youngest was obsessed with the movies and books for a while, he chuckled. She’d be so proud of me right now. Anyway, breakfast in ten minutes, ok ? 

You nodded and took some time to stretch as he walked towards the door. 

Oh, and, Dobby ? You’re much hotter in my clothes than in last night’s dress, he added with a wink. 

He left the room and you were speechless. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. 

Have you seen my phone ? You asked Marshall when you walked in the kitchen to the smell of pancakes. 

No idea about your phone, but your purse is on the table, he said. 

You grabbed your phone, that was inside your handbag and checked your phone. You had about fifty notifications. Had you been sleeping that long ? Had the world ended without you knowing ? Was someone dead ?

From : Unknown. “Hey. It’s Jared. Loved meeting you tonight. When are you free for dinner ?”

From : Talia. “Is that really you in the picture with Em ???” 

From : Talia. “Hand holding and stuff ?!?! What is happening ??? I thought you were with Cassie ???” 

From : Talia. “CALL. ME. BACK. I need to knoooooow !!!” 

From : Talia. “If you call me back I promise I will let the questionable outfit slide. We need to talk about your fashion sense tho…”

From : Talia. “I know the two of you are probably busy right now, but call me back when you can ??? I hope he is ravishing the shit out of you right now :)”

From : Unknown. “I just saw the pictures online. I didn’t realize you were with Em ! Sorry I suggested that date. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful at all…!” 

It didn’t take too long to figure out the photos had been published. You quickly went online and saw a bunch of headlines. You also received messages from people you hadn’t seen in a long time. It was as if, suddenly, they remembered you. You knew it was no coincidence.You clicked on an article titled “Eminem in love ?!”. 

“Eminem is known to be somewhat of a recluse and very private about his personal life, but he was spotted leaving a fancy fundraising event in Detroit yesterday night, holding hands with an unknown woman. No smile on his face, as usual, but his jacket on her shoulder and the hand-holding says it all ! The rapper was reportedly holding her tightly and keeping her close when they exited the party and hopped in a car, accompanied by his bodyguards. The news has fans in a frenzy and desperate for details. We do not know the name of the woman, who wore a stunning Sandro dress and Jimmy Choo accessories (no doubt gifted by her wealthy beau). It is the first time the Rap God was spotted with a woman since his divorce from ex-wife Kim, with whom he shares three children.”

Fuck, you mumbled under your breath. 

What’s wrong ? He asked as he placed a plate in front of you. 

You gave him your phone. He took a minute to read the article and groaned. 

Guess Paul was too late, he mumbled. I’m sorry about that, Y/N. 

I’m sorry, you said sheepishly. 

I don’t care, he said. I mean, I’m used to dating rumors, you know ? It just sucks for you… 

Well… My phone is buzzing with people congratulating me, you giggled. And at least I don’t look wasted on the pics. Although I think it just cost me a date. 

What date ? He asked suspiciously.

A guy named Jared asked me out yesterday, you explained. He’s a football player. 

Jared Goff ? The Lions quarterback ?! 

Yeah, him. Anyway, he just texted and apologized for asking me on a date and hitting on me, you said. 

Sorry for accidentally cockblocking you, he chuckled.

Maybe that’s karma ? You said with a shy smile. Anyway, I don’t think I would have said yes. I wasn’t really myself last night, after all. Poor guy would have been disappointed

He chuckled and you ate breakfast. 

You know, maybe it’s for the best, he commented between bites. Maybe you should hold back on the dating thing. You’re going to have to focus on recovery anyway. 

I guess, you groaned. That’s unfair though. 

How so ? He asked. 

I can’t get drunk, I can’t take pills, I can’t even smoke a fucking cigarette and now I can’t get laid ?! You blurted out. 

You could tell he wasn’t expecting that statement, as he almost spilled his orange juice. 

Classy, he grinned. 

I’m serious, though, you pouted. I’m feeling lonely. I want affection. I want hugs…

He smiled as he put an arm around your shoulders. 

That’s easily remedied, he said softly.

… and I want sex,you continued. 

Aaaand we’re done, he chuckled as he let go of you. 

How did you do it ? You asked. How did you manage to stay abstinent ? Also, when did you start dating again ? 

You’re 27, for God’s sake, do I really have to explain to you how masturbation works, Y/N ? He groaned as your face reddened. 

But it’s not the same, though, you said. I want contact, I want intimacy. Maybe I should get a friend with benefits…

Right, he chortled. Good luck with that. 

You don’t think I could get one ?! You asked in an offended tone. 

Oh, believe me, after the show you put on last night, I know you could get absolutely anyone, he chuckled. But a lot of people seem to think you are spoken for, now. By yours truly, no less. 

Until you put out a statement, that is, you replied. 

Yeah, I’m not doing that. 

What ?! You asked in disbelief. 

A statement will get people talking. Saying nothing and waiting for the thing to die out is probably the best option, he explained. Besides, I wouldn’t be offended if people thought I was with you. I don’t really mind, to be honest. 

So, you’re not worried that it would cockblock you ? 

Nope. If anything, people might be leaving me alone on the subject for a while. I’m not really into dating anyway, he shrugged. 

Are you some sort of asexual hermit monk ? you asked teasingly. 

I think we’ve established that I’m not, he said with a smirk. Unlike some people, though, I know how to keep it in my pants. 

Oh, I can keep it in my pants, you said as you rolled your eyes. I just don’t really want to. 

Right, he chortled. 

Anyway, do you know if Porter is seeing anyone ?  

He froze as you asked the question and dropped the glass he had in hand, causing it to shatter on the floor. 

Shit, he groaned. You’re not serious right ?!

Relax, I’m joking, you giggled. You should see your face, though. It’s hilarious. 

You’re impossible, he said, rolling his eyes. 

You chuckled and helped him clear the glass pieces on the floor. 

Anyway, I get how you’re feeling. But just be careful, ok ? You need to be safe and healthy. That should come first. Not your sexual urges. To answer your question, I didn’t date for a couple of years after getting sober. I just focused on my family and music. Also, I have found that exercising really gets your mind off… You know, he said with a grin. 

I’ll keep that in mind, you chuckled. 

And if you need hugs, I’m here, he said with a smile. Just hugs though. 

You giggled and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

Thanks for being so amazing, you said. Thank you for being here. 

Anything for you, Dobby, he chuckled. 

Anything ? you smirked. Really ? 

Oh, man… Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this ? He sighed with a grin. 

Well, I do look amazing in that Saint Laurent jacket…, you began. I mean, the pictures in the article prove it. 

Not happening, nope, he said as he shook his head. 

Can’t blame a girl for trying, you giggled. Your closet is full of great pieces. 

I’ll tell you what, he said with a smile, if you’re good and put in some work towards your recovery, I might let you borrow some stuff. 

Really ? You squealed. Even the jacket ?

Yeah. Even the jacket. For every sobriety milestone, you get to borrow a thing for my closet. Except for my sneakers and a few pieces of jewelry. The rest is fair game, he said. 

I’m going to crush recovery, you said cockily. 

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dobby, he chuckled. You need to stick to therapy, go to meetings, and mostly, you have to call me or anyone else before you fuck up. Not after. Understood ? 

Yes, sir, you giggled. Totally unrelated, but is 10 hours sober a milestone ? 

Go and take a shower and get dressed, he said as he shook his head. I think I have the clothes you left here last time around there somewhere. Then, I’ll take you to the hotel, ok ? 

An hour later, you knocked at the door of Cassie’s hotel room. Marshall was waiting for you in the parking lot. He offered to go up with you, but you figured that you needed to have a talk with your friend, one on one. As much as you didn’t want to believe what Marshall was telling you about her using you, you wanted things to be clear. 

Hey chérie, she said with a smile as she opened the door and let you into the suite. Last night was sooo fun. I do have a bit of a hangover, though. 

Oh yeah ? You asked awkwardly. 

A guy I met took me to an afterparty, she explained. I ended up coming back here in the morning with a couple of people. They just left. 

Oh, did you…? 

Yes, we fucked, she giggled. 

Speaking of which… Can I talk to you ? 

Of course, she shrugged. 

You sat on the couch and your anxiety levels started to rise. You didn’t quite know where to begin. 

What, you mean to tell me that you got laid by Eminem last night ? she chuckled. 

W-What ?! No, absolutely not, you said. 

Relax, she said. I saw the pictures online, but I figured nothing happened. If that’s any comfort, I don’t think anyone is going to believe it anyway. No offense but… You couldn’t get someone like that. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. Was your friend seriously implying that you weren’t good enough for Marshall ?! You sort of knew that already, but it stung. 

What do you mean by that, Cass ? 

What ? Just the truth, Baby, she shrugged. Men like that, they like beautiful, interesting girls. Not that you don’t look good, but… You’re sort of plain, you know ? You see what I mean, don’t you ? 

I don’t, you said. 

Whatever, she said. I just think you’re not the type to hang out with someone like that. Even as a friend, you know ? I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know that. I’m just being honest here. I’m your friend. 

Is that why you basically dragged me into a threesome with him ? Because we’re friends ? 

Oh God, you really haven’t changed, have you ? she asked with a laugh. 

You bit your lip. 

Seriously, you were always so sensitive, Ms Goody Two Shoes. I flirted, it was a joke, alright ? We had kissed earlier because you were being initiating. You’re the one who told me you were horny, remember ? I don’t see what the big deal is. Nothing happened. Even if it did… You would have had a great experience, she said as she rolled her eyes. 

I wasn’t initiating, you muttered. 

You said you were horny, she pointed out. 

Only because of the stuff you gave me, you squealed. 

I gave you this because I knew you wouldn’t have a great time otherwise, Y/N. And guess what ? You had a great time. You danced, you flirted…You were finally acting normal. 

I was drunk. 

What’s the big deal ? She sighed. It happens to everyone. You were drunk, so what ? No one died. 

I just… What I mean to say is… I don’t feel comfortable with what happened last night. It doesn’t sit well with me. It’s not who I am, you know ? You tried to explain, while keeping your composure. 

Maybe you should ask yourself the right questions, Y/N, she scoffed. 

Meaning ? 

Is this really who you want to be ? A 27 year-old dork who is still in school, single, living with two roommates, with a sad social life ? You could do so much better with your life. 

In this instant, she managed to break your heart. Recovery and yesterday’s fuck-up aside, you were pretty proud of who you were. Granted, you didn’t have a lot of friends, a boyfriend or a glamorous job. You weren’t a homeowner either. But you always thought you were doing pretty well, especially considering the hand you had been dealt. 

Is it what you think ? You asked as your voice broke. That I’m not good enough ? 

I didn’t say that, she defended herself. 

I thought you were my friend, you muttered. 

I am your friend, Y/N. I want you to thrive, she shrugged. You should be thanking me. Honestly, do you have a lot of people in your life who want the best for you ? 

I do, you said, feeling extremely defensive. I have Talia and Jamal, I have Marshall… 

For how long though ? she asked. 

What do you mean ? 

I’m just thinking that, if you weren’t such a dud, maybe you’d have more people around you, you know ? You’d have more friends. People you meet would stick around. You’d have a boyfriend. Hell, maybe Simon wouldn’t have left you. 

You swallowed dryly and got up. You decided this was your cue to leave. 

I can’t take this anymore. Goodbye, Cassie, you said as you grabbed your things before exiting the room. 

Y/N, wait… 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when you got to the parking lot. As he saw you come, Marshall immediately got out of the car and engulfed you in a hug. 

What’s wrong? He asked. 

I’m fine, you lied with a breaking voice. 

Bullshit, he sighed. You’re crying. What happened ?

You didn’t talk. Instead, you simply looked in his eyes. As you stared at him, you were reminded of Cassie’s words. “For how long ?”. Suddenly, something hit you and you felt scared. You realized that you were playing a dangerous game. In a matter of months, he had become a constant in your life. Most of the time, not a week went by without you seeing him at least twice. You texted all the time, whether it was to talk about your day or simply to exchange silly jokes. He was always there for you but, as thankful as you were, you were scared of the day he wouldn’t be around anymore. It would come eventually. Maybe Cassie was right. Maybe there was something about you that made people want to leave. And, let’s face it, she was definitely onto something when she said that girls like you usually aren’t interesting enough for people like him. He walked into your life unexpectedly, but you feared the moment he would walk out. He kept on gazing at you, waiting for you to talk, but you couldn’t. 

Talk to me, he said softly. 

I have to go, you whispered. 

Go where ? I don’t understand, Y/N. 

You took a step back and muttered an apology before starting to walk out of the parking lot. At that moment, nothing made sense anymore. You realized that maybe you had been wrong all along. Maybe you were in fact a 27 year-old failure. If so, why bother people ? They would be better off without you, right ? Hell, it wasn’t just about Marshall. It was about all your friends. Maybe you should do them a favor and leave them be. 

You were still wearing your heels from last night, as you obviously didn’t have any spare pair of shoes at Marshall’s place and had not taken the time to change since retrieving your stuff from the hotel room. Your feet hurt but you kept on walking.

Y/N, Marshall called as he followed you. 

Please leave me alone, you said. 

I’m not leaving you alone when you’re crying and just had a slipping episode, he said as he grabbed your arm. Just come with me, ok ? We’ll talk. 

Get away from me !!!! You yelled as you pushed him. 

He looked at you, taken aback. It was the first time you yelled at him and you could tell he was not expecting it. His eyes were full of questions. But what exactly could you say that would actually make sense ? 

I’m sorry, you whispered. I just… I have to… 

You were panting and slurring your words. It was all too much. The only thing you wanted was to get out of here, but as seconds went by, it was clear that your body would not cooperate. You felt a pain in your chest and your heart was pounding. Despite your attempt to move, you were unable to. To make things worse, your eyes were wide open but you couldn’t quite see. It was all a blur. You were feeling trapped. You were on the floor, your hand on your chest. 

Y/N, Marshall said in a soft yet alarmed voice. You need to breathe, ok ? 

I… C-can’t, you stuttered. 

Yes, you can, he reassured you. I’ll help you. I’m going to touch your hand. Is that alright ? 

You tried to nod, to the best of your ability, but your body felt so stiff that you weren’t sure if Marshall could see your reaction or not. Regardless, he got closer and gently took your hand in his before placing it on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat. 

Now, you’re going to try and inhale through your nose and take in as much air as you can, ok ? Can you do that for me ? 

I…

Don’t speak for now. Just inhale. As deep as you can, he directed. And then, exhale slowly. 

Your first tentative attempt to breathe deeply was a complete failure. You thought you were going to end up choking. Yet, after a while, you managed to breathe a bit more normally, slowly. Your hand was against Marshall’s chest, his own breath guiding yours. One of his hands was on your back, gently holding you. 

That’s it. You’re doing so good, Y/N, he encouraged you. 

Mar…, you began. 

Shhh. Just keep breathing for now, ok ? 

As minutes went by, you were shivering, but thankfully, you were breathing properly. 

You’re safe, he said gently. It may not feel like this right now, but I promise. I got you. 

You closed your eyes as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. You stayed like this for a while, unable to tell if it was seconds or hours. Eventually, you came back to your senses. 

Do you feel better ? He asked. 

Yes, you whispered. I’m so sorry. 

What the hell are you apologizing for ? He chuckled. Having a panic attack ? Yeah, you better apologize for things that are out of your control… 

You let out a small, exhausted laugh. He kissed the top of your head and you went back to the car. Your body was stiff and tense. 

Let’s get you home now, he said gently as he started driving. You need some rest. 

Can we… not ? You asked anxiously. 

What’s wrong, Y/N ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you replied. I just…

If you’d had any tears left, you would have cried. Instead, you just choked on your words. You took a breath and tried to speak more clearly. 

I don’t want to face them, you explained. Especially Talia. I can’t disappoint her like this, you know ? 

They’re your friends, he said. Sure, once you come clean about what happened and the fact that you used again, they won’t be too pleased. But you’ll be fine. Because they love you and they care about you. 

For how long, though ? You blurted out. 

What ? 

They would be better off without me. Everyone would be better off without me, you said. I’m a failure. I stall people. Who wants that ? 

You’re only saying that because you slipped and you’re tired, he replied as he shook his head. Is that what your friend told you ? Of all people, I don’t think she is the one you should listen to. 

No, I figured that myself, you said. But as much as I am mad at Cassie right now… She got a few things right. 

Oh yeah ? About what ? He scoffed. 

I’m a failure, you simply said. 

That’s not true.

No, Marshall, you don’t understand ! She said I'm a 27 year-old dork who is still in school, single, living with two roommates with a sad social life. That is absolutely true. She also said that… It doesn’t make sense why someone like you would hang out with… someone like me. She’s not wrong about that either. 

He shook his head and scoffed. 

I hang out with you because I like you, Y/N, he said. And because of everything else she said. 

What do you mean ? You asked with a confused look. 

Let’s dissect, ok ? You’re 27. That’s a fact. I don’t have to have an opinion about it. Same goes for the single thing. As for the rest… I think it’s great that you are still in school. It shows that you are driven and that you are full of ambition. You’re getting a fucking PhD, for God’s sake. Not a lot of people can do that, you know ? You’re the smartest person I know. Most of the time, when you talk about your work, I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying. But I see how passionate you are, and it’s fucking inspiring. And you are a dork. But  it’s fucking great. I love that about you. I think that’s the cutest and funniest thing ever. I’m a dork too. There’s nothing wrong with that. And you do have friends. You have us. You have me. You might not be the most sociable person I know. That’s true. But that’s fine. I like that you’re not the loud type anyway. And it’s cool that you live with Talia and Jamal. I’d even go so far as to say that I like it, because otherwise… I wouldn’t have met you, you know what I’m saying ? 

You stared at him and nodded. 

Don’t let her get into your head, he continued. You’re absolutely amazing. There isn’t a thing I would change about you. Meeting you is the greatest thing that’s happened to me in the past year. You’re a ray of sunshine. Every time you walk in the studio, you make everyone’s day better, just by being you. You make those silly jokes, you put up with us and, most importantly, you get us. You’re not one of those groupies who think of us as stereotypes. Especially me. You’re so genuine, it’s refreshing. So don’t let anyone change that. You are exceptional. You are brave, strong, and beautiful, inside and out. 

You couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever told you. Sure, you’d received compliments before, but never to this extent. Hell, none of the people you had dated had never made such a declaration. You could tell by the look on his face that he meant every word he had just said. 

I’m scared to lose my friends, you finally said in an emotional voice. Especially you. 

You’re not losing anyone, Y/N. Especially me, he chuckled as he brushed your face with his hand. Don’t you worry about that. You’re pretty much stuck with me. 

You giggled softly before curling on the car seat and watching him for the rest of the drive. You felt comforted, grounded by his presence. It was a good thing, too, because you weren’t too sure how the conversation with Talia and Jamal would turn out.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Explain!

Hopping on this open tag by @oh-no-another-idea (here)!

Imma go with Liam Steele and Dylan Millihan from What Lurks In The Hollow because that WIP is my new obsession/hyperfixation lmao

Okay, here we go!

LIAM STEELE

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, everybody sucks You don't really know why, but you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact, and if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker! It's just one of those days It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit lettin' shit slip Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip It's all about the he says/she says bullshit I think you better quit talkin' that shit

overwhelmed - Royal & The Serpent

What am I feeling? Can't look at the ceiling The light is so bright It's like I'm overheating This mind isn't mine Who am I to judge? Oh I should be fine But it's all too much I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety creeps inside of me Makes it hard to breathe What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed so easily My anxiety keeps me silent When I try to speak What's come over me Feels like I'm somebody else I get overwhelmed All of these faces Who don't know what space is And crowds are shut down

✨ Quote ✨

Liam fidgeted with his charm bracelet for a moment, in a compulsive, anxious rhythm, before taking a deep breath and closing his hands into fists, glaring at the bullies cluttering the street. "I don't think any of you motherfuckers heard me right, so Imma repeat myself - if you don't let go of that damn kid and get the fuck out of my way, I swear to fucking God I will bash your heads on the curb" He gave them a sharp, almost condescending smile, "And that's mostly because you're making me late for the arcade and I don't like that. Does that sound all good or do you need any more goddamn details?"

DYLAN MILLIHAN

✨ Image ✨

✨ Song ✨

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson

Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be And if I'd end up happy I would pray Trying hard to reach out But when I tried to speak out Felt like no one could hear me Wanted to belong here But something felt so wrong here So I prayed I could breakaway I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change And breakaway

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs

You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove You got a fast car I got a plan to get us outta here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living ... So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car Speed so fast it felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I-I had a feeling that I belonged I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

✨ Quote ✨

"Look, none of us asked for this. But whether we like it or not, we're siblings and we're stuck together. More than ever, unfortunately, as much as I loathe to admit it. So we need to make this" He gestures around them, gaze lingering at the, well, still quite decrepit living room of the house, before settling back on Amy, "work out for us, somehow. And we need to stop being at each other's throats all the time - which, by the way, um, I'm..." It seemed physically difficult for him to say the words that were stuck in his throat, but eventually, he sighed and droned out the phrase, earnestly "...sorry for all the stuff I said. I was just really tired and angry, but I shouldn't have said all of that. None of this mess is your fault, and I don't think you're a bad sister, like at all. You're a great kiddo."

Dylan paused unsure of what to say next, but when he noticed that Amy wasn't frowning or sulking anymore but actually smiling softly in agreement, his uneasiness seemed to fade into what could almost be a smile too. "Anyways, let's cut the emotional crap before I feel sick to my stomach more than I already feel. Do you want some more cereal?"

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery @bookwormclover

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[sleepyfan-blog]

Talking to Older Brothers

This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Roland and Arnault and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Ramiel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: mentions of petras, death threats, if there is anything else I need to tag, please tell me!

Summary: After leaving the base, Cedric goes to talk to Roland, then later Arnault.

Cedric only enters the bakery once he’s certain that he isn’t being followed. There is, as he’s expected, a long line of eager mortals inspecting the delicious foods for sale. He deliberately takes in a deep breath through his nose, the mouth-wateringly delicious scents of the lovingly hand-crafted pastries and other baked goods a welcome distraction from the ugly feelings still eating away at his hearts like the most wicked of poisons. He lets out the breath he’d taken slowly, through his mouth, before inhaling through his nose again.

He does this several times, eyes closed as he lets the chatter of mortals wash over him. He’s not listening to any one conversation in particular, but allowing the sounds to help ground him. Cedric opens his eyes as he hears the careful, distinctive footsteps of Roland walking up to him. He’s not surprised that the mortal shop-helper already went off to go get Roland, as he is an Astartes, though a familiar face in this particular bakery. 

“Are you here for baked goods, Cedric? Or have you come to talk to me about something?” Roland asks, looking him over carefully, a considering frown on his face.

“... I need to speak with you, privately. But I did bring money to buy some of the delicious bread.” Cedric answered earnestly. Pallas and Olivar were healed to the point where they were being slowly introduced to baseline foods. There were few things better than the baked goods made by Roland’s Bonded in Cedric’s opinion, and he hoped to get them both a treat…

If he survives the punishment for attacking Chief Apothecary Melinth, he hopes to give them the bread himself. Otherwise, he’s sure that Ramiel will share the bread with them for him. Cedric’s superiors in the base have been distressingly lenient with him so far, but he’s quite certain that has come to an end. But that was a problem for Later Cedric to deal with. 

“Follow me, then, to the back. Do you mind helping me knead the dough? I had to run an errand this morning and we are a bit behind on some of the larger orders that came in while I was away.” Roland asked, gesturing for Cedric to follow him into the back of the bakery. 

“I’d be happy to help.” Cedric answered earnestly. He smiles cheerfully as he sees you working diligently on some kind of fruit filling for the carefully arranged trays of tart-shells, waiting to be filled and finished cooking. “Hallo!” He calls out to you.

“Good afternoon, Cedric. It’s good to see you again. You’ve been pretty busy these past couple of months. New apothecary training?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

Cedric stills for a moment, face solemn “I wish it were something like that. I do apologize for being so absent recently. Things have been… Tumultuous, as of late. It’s what I wanted to talk to Roland about… Arnault as well, though I plan on talking to him later today.”  He goes over to the sink, washing his hand properly before heading over to the kneading table, grabbing one of the balls of dough and starting to work it in his hands. 

Roland washes his hands as well, and joins him in kneading the bread. He asks “What has been going on up at the base?”

Cedric focused on the way the bread dough felt in his hands as he pushed, pulled and folded it for a couple of seconds before answering, making sure not to put too much strength into manipulating the dough, or else it would tear. The repetitive motions and the care with which he needed to manipulate the bread, while also using some of his strength to get the dough to cooperate properly helped him stay calm as he explained, briefly glancing at you before switching over to Gothic “Over the past couple of months, there have been four new arrivals from M42. All four of them have been Primaris Black Templars. All of them badly injured. Two of them died, despite every effort to get them to a point of stability.” 

Cedric felt the bread tear in his hands and his eyes stung. The young apothecary huffed in frustration, shaking his head as he kneaded the dough back together, suppressing a growl of frustration, willing himself to find the calm that he’d very nearly achieved. 

“It’s unusual for an Astartes to die on Terra.” Roland remarked, also in Gothic, so as to not worry you. “Do you know what they plan on doing with the bodies?”

Cedric scowled “It does not matter what they want to do with the bodies up at the base - and I know what the chief apothecary wants to do with them. But since they are Black Templars and I am the highest ranking Apothecary of their chapter that any of them can get ahold of, I get to decide what happens to them. The organs that were salvageable have already been taken-” Damn it, he tore the bread dough again. A frustrated grunt leaves him as he mashes the torn pieces of dough back together, scowling fiercely “-and I intend on having Malachai and Lestras cremated. I will be speaking with local mortals who have facilities to properly burn their bodies, and intend on having their remains burned by the end of the week. Ramiel is getting the necessary supplies for the Rites of Remembrance, and I do have a holy place in mind for the Rites to be performed.”

Cedric put down the thoroughly kneaded dough ball into a loaf-pan, so that it could prove again and then be cooked. He reached for a second dough ball, his hands squeezing into the soft, giving substance. 

“Is this holy place off-base?” Roland asked perceptively as he set the dough ball he’d been working on in its own tin and grabbed another.

“Ja. There is a beautiful baseline church nearby, with stained-glass windows and a bell that rings beautifully when it is rung. One of the Sisters who tends to the spiritual needs of the mortals is bonded to an Astartes.” Cedric explained. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he should be fully truthful about this particular Cousin, to avoid any potential… Problems “A pre-heresy Word Bearer Chaplain by the name of Lykus. We’ve spoken a couple of times.”

“And here I thought you tried to avoid every chaplain who wasn’t Ramiel for mysterious reasons.” Roland murmured, a teasing smile on his face “I have seen him around, occasionally. He seems a decent sort, and from well before the Fall of his legion.”

“Ramiel and I plan on holding the Rites of Remembrance in that church as soon as he has everything he needs. The two other Primaris Black Templars would be attending as well, though they’ll need assistance to get to the church, as their wounds are extensive and some of them limit their mobility. I was… We were wondering if you wished to attend.” Cedric explained, this new ball of dough tearing in his hands as he asked. The young apothecary wordlessly grumbles in frustration, rolling the two halves back together between his hands before going back to kneading the dough. He can’t quite look at Roland as he waits for the other’s answer.

“I would be honored to attend the Rites of Remembrance, and to meet the newly arrived Brothers as well.” Roland murmured, his voice warm.

Cedric risked peeking over at Roland. Stilling for a moment as he saw the gentle smile on the older Templar’s face. He swallowed hard, grateful beyond words for his response. “I… Thank you. If… If you wished for your bonded to attend, should she wish to, she would be… She would be welcome.”

Roland’s eyes softened a little and he set down the dough ball he’d been kneading, turning to fully face Cedric. He reached out slowly and pulled Cedric in close, hugging him tightly. “I would be honored to attend, and if you would be more comfortable with this event being Astartes only mein bakerin would understand.”

Some of the poisonous wrath in his hearts faded, as his older Brother hugged him. Cedric was careful to put down the dough in his hands so he didn’t accidentally mash it into Roland’s back as he hugged the other back. If he hid his face in the other’s shoulder for a moment or two as even more tears fell from his treacherous eyes…

Well, Roland was kind enough not to mention it, only hugging him tighter still. “Losing brothers is never easy, and grieving for them isn’t a sin, nor is it a sign of weakness.”

“... There is much to do, before I can grieve them. But I will, once they are resting, and my injured Brothers are healed.” Cedric answered quietly, slowly letting go of Roland and turning back to the ask of kneading dough. 

“... Grief does not wait patiently for one to have the time for it.” Roland warned Cedric “If you try to ignore your grief, it will try und consume you from the inside out. Terra is… Terra is a safer place to process these kinds of emotions, difficult though it is.”

“I will keep that in mind, Bruder Roland.” Cedric half-grumbled, though he did accept the older Templar’s word of warning for what it was. “... I need to tell Arnault of the upcoming Rites of Remembrance as well. I sought you out first as the bakery is closer to the base.”

Roland hummed in acknowledgement before asking “Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

Cedric hesitated for a moment before shaking his head “Not right now, but thank you for listening.” He slowly let go of one of his older brother and started kneading a dough ball, letting out his frustrations on the soon-to-be loaves of bread.

Roland watched him for a long moment before returning to kneading as well “Alright. But if there is something that weighs on your hearts, or you are struggling with something ,you know you can always come to me, and I will help as best as I can.”

Cedric nodded, shifting a little from foot to foot “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Roland.”

“All is well.” The older Templar responded with a small smile.

Cedric kneaded bread until he felt somewhere close to calm, before washing his hands and saying goodbye to both Roland and his bonded. He was fairly sure that Arnault and his bonded were at home, at this time of day, and planned on stopping by, to see if they’d talk. 

~

The young apothecary made his way over to where Arnault and Angela lived, pausing for a moment when his astartes-sized phone began ringing in his pocket. He paused, stepping to one side of the sidewalk so as to not block foot traffic before pulling the device out of his pocket. The name and number identified the caller as Captain Ash’val.

Cedric silently weighed the pros and cons of answering this phone call as it continued to ring in his hands. On one hand, this could be important, he might being recalled to base because a medical emergency was either happening or inbound and they needed all hands on deck. One of his injured brothers could be reacting poorly to being tended to by firstborn Apothecaries, or had taken a turn for the worse. On the other hand he had snapped at the other in anger, and he had a physical altercation with the chief apothecary of the base… The consequences of that, he knew he was going to be facing shortly after returning to said base. 

Cedric continued to stare at the phone in his hand, paralyzed by indecision. Should he put the phone back into his pocket, pretend that it was on silent, or that he just hadn’t heard it, distracted by the sights and sounds of Gannet Point? Should he face whatever trial this was sure to be now? What should he d-

“Cedric?” Miss Angela called out from behind him, causing the young Black Templar to startle and fumble with his phone. Despite his best efforts, it fell to the ground with a deafening and decidedly bad sounding smack as it  landed screen-first onto the edge of the sidewalk near the road. 

“I.. Uhm. Hello miss Angela!” Cedric managed out, attempting to smile down at the meek baseline human before he quickly knelt and scooped up his now broken phone. Dorn damn it all, today was not at all going the way he’d hoped it would. “I was hoping to speak to you and Arnault, if you are not busy…”

Some of the tension that Miss Angela had been keeping in her shoulders relaxed a little and she responded with “Of course I’d be happy to talk to you. Arnault as well. He got a call from Captain Ash’val not too long ago, actually. He said that something happened at the base and you stormed off, and that no one’s been able to get into contact with you for several hours, since. Arnault, love, Cedric’s over here!” That last sentence she half-shouted.

Arnault materialized out of nowhere, clearly having somehow acquired a teleportation array and the ability to use it effectively. “There you are! Come, we will talk in our home. I’ve heard what Ash’val and Melinth said what happened. I want to hear your side of it. Where have you been?”

Cedric fidgeted feeling guilty for worrying the older Black Templar “I left the base and knew I was being followed, so I shook off the person tailing me and went to the bakery that Roland and his bonded run together and talked to Roland for a while while kneading bread, to help calm down. It… it worked more or less.”

Arnault heaved a sigh at that, shaking his head a little “I am glad that you decided to find a safe way to vent your fury though why did you feel the need to shake off whoever was trying to catch u to you from the base?”

“Because I knew whoever was following me wasn’t one of my fellow Primaris Brothers and I… Don’t know how well I would have reacted to interacting with a fairborn marine who wasn’t a Black Templar in the fury I was in.”

Arnault hummed, nodding a little in understanding “Ja, I get that.”

“The door’s open, love! Once you two are ready to come inside.” Angela called out from the front door of her home before entering.

“Inside, now.” Arnault ordered Cedric, pointing at the door, a stern expression on his face.

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded, obediently doing as he was told as the older Black Templar followed closely behind him.

~

“Do either of you want something to drink?” Angela asked from the kitchen as Cedric and Arnault entered the cozy home. 

“Uhm… Some tea would be nice, if you don’t mind, Miss Angela.” Cedric answered after Arnault stared at him silently for several seconds.

“I’ll have a cup of tea as well, mein Engel.” Arnault called out with a small smile on his face. It faded and he addressed Cedric tersely “You, sit. Couch.”

Cedric barely managed to suppress the instinctual flinch the flat tones and sharp orders from an older brother instinctually provoked. “Yes sir.” he carefully took off his shoes first, putting them in the shoe bin before heading to the aforementioned couch, sitting on the edge of it, anxious. He couldn’t even look at Arnault at all, much less in the eye as he waited for the other to do or say something.

A short but very audible sigh left Arnault as the Emperor’s Champion made his way over to where Cedric was sitting, joining him on the couch. “What I was told by Chief Apothecary Melinth was that he asked you about irregularities that he found in the geneseeds implanted in Malachai and Lestras. In the ensuing argument, you escalated things violently before storming out of the base. Care to explain what happened?”

“Did… Did Apothecary Melinth say why I became violent?” Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his temper in check. Apparently the bread kneading hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped it would be, as the fury was once more surging to the surface. 

“He did not deign to go into specifics, and I was more focused on finding you before you picked a fight with some renegades or chaos bastards, or were found by them and they needled you into causing a much messier problem. What happened?” Arnault asked. He sounded… Worried? And non-judgmental.

Cedric risked looking directly at Arnault, trying to gauge the other’s emotional state. He looked mildly worried, but otherwise calm.  “He accused me of lying about my origins, and the origins of the other Primaris Marines. That instead of being created by the Mechanicum, we are a group of Bile’s abominations in the shape of Space Marines, meant to infiltrate loyal chapters and weaken them from within.”

“He what?” Arnault growled, a thunderous frown appearing on his face. 

Before the older Templar could say anything else, Angela walked into the living room, carrying three mugs of tea and a couple of plates of fruit and crackers. “Here you go, love, Cedric. I also grabbed a little snack, in case either of you were hungry. Do you want me to stay for this conversation? Or is this something private between brothers?” 

Cedric looked over at Arnault, unsure what the other’s decision about that was going to be. Much of this conversation probably wouldn’t make sense to her, even if they did speak in one of the local languages that she did know, rather than in rapid-fire Gothic. 

Arnault sighed “This conversation is going to be one that won’t make much sense to those who are not Astartes, mein Engel, and there are some things that have been verboten to explain, even to our bonded. I adore having you near me whenever possible, but this is an astartes-only conversation.  I hope you understand.”

“I don’t understand the subject matter, but I will let you talk to your younger brother privately. I’ll be in my sewing room, if you need or want my help or presence.” Angela murmured, a small smile on her face as she walked over and gave Arnault a kiss on the lips before walking off.

“I will always want you near me, unless there is something dangerous going on. Then I will want you to be as safe as possible. Danke schon for understanding, liebling.” Arnault murmured, kissing her back, a loving and affectionate smile on his face. 

Angela nodded and left the room, with Arnault’s gaze lingering on her as she left. Once the sounds of her quiet footsteps could not longer be easily heard, the older Black Templar refocused on the conversation “Is that when you got violent? The presumption that he made that you und your Primaris Brothers were not who you said you were, but infiltrators and saboteurs?”

“No, though I will admit to yelling at him for how incorrect an assumption that was. I became physically violent after he repeatedly crowded into my physical space and attempted to grab me while I was trapped against one of the walls of his office.” Cedric paused for a moment, a slight shiver running down his back at the sheer panic and fury that had been running through him at the time. He continued to confess to Arnault “He tried to either grab or strike me and I responded by ducking his hands and kicking his bad knee out from under him. After that the physical fight continued until I could get to the door to his office and leave. I almost physically bumped into captain Ash’val as I fled the base… And I think I snapped at him, and my words to him were uncalled for and rude. After that I made sure to lose whoever was tracking me from the base and went to go speak to Roland… Though I didn’t tell him about the fight I got into.”

“What did you talk to Roland about?” Arnault prompted, his voice measured and calm.

“There have been four more Primaris who’ve arrived in the past couple of months, all of them fellow Black Templars… And all four of them were badly injured. Two of them are in the medical ward, recovering and going through physical therapy for some of their injuries. The other two…” His voice cracked and broke for a couple of moments. Cedric allowed himself a moment to get his words back before answering, voice quieter and shaking “The other two died. The last one we had a bit of forewarning about his condition and where he was going to appear, because of a vision Jophiel received. Despite all of Chief Apothecary Melinth’s skills, he was unable to save Malachai. Less than twenty-four hours later, both Malachai and Lestras were on surgical tables again, this time led by Melinth and six other high to mid ranking apothecaries of Loyalist, Renegade and Chaos leanings, to study the differences between Firstborn and Primaris Marines.”

Cedric paused for a moment “The newly dead brothers, in addition to the new living ones were what I spoke to Roland about. Along with the fact that Ramiel and I intend to have their Rites of Remembrance held soon, ideally by the end of the week. There is a church in town with beautiful stained-glass windows we intend on holding the Rites there. I have spoken to the Astartes who works there. He’s.” Cedric pauses for a moment, looking over at Arnault “A pre-heresy World Bearer Chaplain, with a bonded who is a Sister. Is… Is that going to be a problem?”

“... Do you know if he is corrupted at all?” Arnault asked, a small frown appearing on his face.

“I’ve talked to him a couple of times and he earnestly believes in the divinity of the god emperor. The fall of his legion distresses him greatly, from what little he’s spoken to me about it.” Cedric reported earnestly. “He shows no signs of corruption, to my knowledge.” Cedric also dutifully informs Arnault the name of the church and it’s address, in case the other wants to look at the church and speak to the chaplain himself first. “Oh! One last thing, if you wish and if she wishes, you may bring your bonded to the Rites of Remembrance.”

“You mentioned that all four of these new Bruders were found injured - Ramiel was also badly injured, upon being found here on Holy Terra as well. Do you know how they got those injuries?” Arnault asked, leaning a little towards Cedric as he asked, a very focused look on his face.

Cedric stilled. How much of the truth should he tell in this moment, without asking his brothers first? And he only had suspicions about who inflicted the wounds on Malachai and Lestras, as he hadn’t been able to ask them before they died. But Pallius and Olivar had both confirmed that they’d been badly beaten by Petras in M42 before awakening in M3 on Holy Terra. “As far as I know, they were injured in M42 and were brought by whatever force is behind this to holy Terra, in this time.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Cedric. Do you know how they got so badly injured?” Arnault reiterated, his eyes narrowing a little as he spoke.

“I can’t say for sure how Malachai and Lestras ended up with injuries that they had.” though he had his suspicions, especially with Malachai’s injuries. They were, unfortunately, very familiar to Cedric. “But I do know that they’d gotten those injuries during the course of their service to the god emperor.” 

Arnault’s eyes narrowed a little further “Cedric… Ash’val showed me pictures of some of the wounds that were inflicted on your brothers - including Ramiel. I know what it looks like when someone has been attacked by Lightning Claws. All of them were attacked by an Astartes. None of them had defensive wounds, which means they did not fight back and you knew where all their injuries were, including internal ones.”

Fuck! What should he do? Cedric… Cedric did trust Arnault, he really did. But this wasn’t just his decision to make… Though, technically as the only Black Templar Apothecary tending to the injured Black Templars in the base it kind of was, in a legal sense. “... They were punished. The sins they allegedly committed vary by Brother, but the one that had them ultimately killed was one that they could not change, nor help.”

“Explain. Now.” Arnault ordered, his face a twisted into a thunderous scowl.

“I told you earlier that the Primaris rollout nearly broke the Chapter. Part of the reason why is because some Black Templars were killing Primaris Marines. A percentage of these murdered Primaris marines were the chosen apprentices of other Firstborn Marines who did not take kindly to their proteges being murdered. It was very nearly a full-on civil war within the chapter, and it…” Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look at Arnault directly as he continued to explain. He had a desire to curl up into as small of a ball as his large frame would allow, but managed to  It only stopped after the High Marshal gathered the full fleet together for a meeting and informed everyone that we Primaris marines were here to stay, and that we were not heretical abominations. If anyone wished to disagree with that, they could fight him for leadership over the chapter. None of his challengers survived the ritual duels, including the marine who was responsible for the deaths of all five of my fellow Primaris Black Templars.”

“Are any of the Black Templars who killed younger brothers currently here on Ancient Terra?” Arnault asked, his voice hard and growly. 

Fuck!

“We… We don’t know for certain.” Cedric answered truthfully… Sort of. Petras was on Holy Terra, but none of them had managed to work up the courage to confront the Chaplain directly, to find out when exactly the chaplain was from. Petras was well over four hundred years old, when he had been felled by High Marshal Helbreicht after all, and had spent well over two hundred years as an honorable and well-regarded chaplain of the Black Templars. 

“Explain to me, what you mean by that. In detail, Cedric.” Arnault growled, still scowling at Cedric.

The younger Black Templar tried very hard not to start obviously panicking. Cedric wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t potentially cause Arnault to fly into a rage. “I… Uhm.. Ah…” He grabbed the cool mug of tea that had been created for him and took a sip from it very slowly, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. Before he could come up with something to tell Roland, there was a strong knock on the door. “You should probably answer the door, Brother Roland.” Cedric timidly suggested, hiding behind the mug of tea as best as he could manage. 

Arnault grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the front door. “Ja, what do you -oh Hello Roland. Bitte, come in. Cedric and I are having a chat, and you are welcome to join.”

“Danke, I’d be happy to chat with my bruders. Hallo Cedric!” Roland calls out, sounding relatively cheerful.

Oh no. Cedric is starting to feel a little cornered. He surreptitiously pulls out his phone - the screen is indeed shattered, but it does light up when he presses the correct button and checks his text messages. He’s got several missed phone calls from Captain Ash’val. The two of them are walking back to the living room he’s sitting in. Come on, escape from this conversation! His phone began ringing, it was Ramiel. God emperor bless you!i “Hey Rami, what’s going on?”

“Mattias is being brought to the clinic for treatment by his warband. He’s been  badly beaten and half-stripped out of his armor. He’s alive for now, but he’s in bad shape. I really think that it would help if you were at there to help him stay calm while he gets patched up.” Ramiel informed him, voice low and worried.

“Fuck! But he-he was fine when he arrived on Ancient Terra a couple of months ago. He-he didn’t somehow go back to M42 and come back again, did he?” Cedric asked, alarm shooting through him as he got up to his feet. “He was… He was brought to Holy Terra before he… Before he was…”

“I know that he was uninjured when he first came to Ancient Terra. According to the Crusade leader, they were meeting with a different crusade, this one lead by a chaplain captain. The chaplain wanted to talk to him privately. After their conversation he left with his crusade and Mattias didn’t. It took them an hour to find him, and he’s badly hurt.”

“That bastard’s doing it again. Fuck!” Cedric swore “I’ll be at the clinic as soon as I can. Stay safe, and be smart Rami.”

“You too, Cedric!’ Ramiel answered before ending the call. 

Unfortunately for Cedric, before he could try and leave Arnault’s house, he had to get through both Arnault and Roland, who were staring at him with intensity. 

“Hey, so I need to go. I hate to cut this conversation short, but -” Cedric started.

“We overheard your little talk with Ramiel. You will explain to us right now who this bastard harming Primaris Marines is. We have been patient, waiting for you to talk to us. We aren’t waiting anymore.” Arnault growled, lunging forward and grabbing Cedric by the back of the neck.

“Roland… Help!” Cedric called out plaintively, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“Nein, you will answer our questions. Who is causing this harm? Now is not to be silent, like mortal martyrs. Let us help you.” Roland answered, staring at Cedric impassively.

“I don’t know for certain which chaplain it was!” Cedric protested, wriggling more, trying to escape.

“You have your suspicions. Talk, little brother. Now!” Arnault half-snarled at him.

“Chaplain Mephisteil Petras! He was the one who killed at least a dozen primaris marines, including his own Apprentice, Ramiel! He’s here on Holy Terra. We don’t know for sure if he’s from the time he was running around beating Primaris Marines to death, but he’s beaten firstborn Marines to the point that their crusade leaders have sent them to the clinic for treatment twice to my knowledge.” Cedric blurted out, a scowl on his face “Will you let me go now? I need to help keep another brother from dying to firstborn machinations and tempers.”

"I am going to kill him." Arnault responded. His voice was steady and calm, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We. We are going to kill him." Roland corrected Arnault, shaking his head a little.

"Uhm... We don't know for certain that it was Petras who beat up Mattias..." Cedric pointed out, anxiously.

"True, but this sort of behavior is not something that just goes away." Arnault rumbled "And he was the one who organized the exile of myself and Roland because of our bonds." And because of his writing sins, but Arnault wasn't going to go into that.

“Danke, for finally telling us, Cedric. We will accompany you to the clinic.” Roland murmured as Arnault set him down on his feet. 

“Ja. Let’s go.” The Emperor’s Champion rumbled, a deep-set scowl on his face as the three of them sprinted out of the cozy home and off to the Astartes-run clinic.

[valiantstarlights]

[Priest Hob AU sequel] Some Months Later, December 24, Evening.

Tagging @alexxuun because they deserve credit for the AU. 😊 I can't tag the anon who requested a sequel in an ask, but here you go! I hope you like it. 🖤

--

"I don't...I don't understand." Hob clutches at Dream's arm when he realizes where Dream has transported them. "Why are we here?"

'Here' was the corridor they got married in, months ago by now. Nothing has changed. The fourth window left of the door was still cracked, and the tile near the first pillar was still placed unevenly. Time has passed, surely, but Hob doesn't know the time difference between Hell and Earth. For all he knows, only a few minutes have passed since he was last here with Dream.

"To pray, I suppose," Dream replies, sounding amused at his question. "Is this what being in my presence does to you, Father Robert? Have you forgotten the purpose of churches?"

Panic flared bright in his chest. "No, please, don't call me that. You know I'm not...I'm not that person anymore. I'm your husband now. Right? Dream?" His heart was suddenly beating so quickly. Dream was looking at him strangely, all traces of humor gone from his handsome face. "Why are we here? Have you...have you grown tired of me? Is this you returning me to my old life?"

No. No. Anything but that. Anything but the crushing loneliness, the prayers that ring hollow when he recites them, the misguided belief that suffering brings you closer to heaven. That it is worth being miserable your entire life, giving and giving until you have nothing left, for the sake of having a place in God's kingdom where it would be more of the same: worshipping an absent, indifferent being, the air filled with songs of zealous, nauseating praise, fake beatific smiles on the face of everyone you meet.

Hob would rather die than live that life again. He would rather starve in the streets and die a peasant's death than leave Dream's side. If his husband has fallen out of love with him--

"Hush, my love," Dream says, and then Hob is enfolded in his strong arms, Dream's dark wings also moving to shelter him. Hob immediately clings tight. If Dream wants him to let go, he's going to have to break Hob's arms first. "I am here. I will not leave you. You are mine until the end of time."

"Then why?" Hob asks against the rich fabric of Dream's robes. He still sounds panicked, short breath coming in gasps. "Why are we here? I don't want to be here."

Dream rubs Hob's back comfortingly, up and down and up again, sometimes brushing his long fingers through Hob's hair, until Hob calms down. Until he can breathe normally again. Hob doesn't know how much time has passed, but their surroundings are undisturbed and not a single person walks by them.

And then Dream asks, "Are you sure?"

What?

Dream sighs but continues his soothing gestures. "I know you miss it. I hear you hum sometimes, when your mind is focused on a task. Religious melodies. Christmas songs, of late. I don't think you notice it, but some of the staff do. Lucienne tells me you must have wanted to visit, but are too afraid to ask me." He leans away from Hob so Hob could see how sincere he looks, but all Hob reads in Dream's face is the sadness in his eyes at the thought of Hob not trusting him enough to tell him his wishes.

"I do not want you to think that you can never visit again," Dream tells him, soft and a little vulnerable. "I do not want you to think that by marrying me, you have lost your freedom." He looks around them, at the high ceilings and the tall windows. "And so here we are."

"Dream," Hob says as earnestly as he could. "It's just a habit. I hum when I feel like it's too quiet. It just so happens that the songs I pick are...well. But if you enchant a violin to play by itself and follow me around, I assure you the humming will cease, or if it persists, then it would be to the tune of Mozart or Bach or whichever composer you pick."

He places his hand against his husband's cheek and watches as Dream leans against it before turning his head to kiss his palm. Hob's heart breaks at the tender movement. How long had Dream been worried about this?

"As for my freedom," Hob says, "You did not clip my wings. You unbound them. And since you have, I have never felt happier. With you by my side, I feel like I can achieve anything. You opened my eyes and taught me better. Helped me unlearn all the false teachings I grew up believing to be true. You have made me into the best version of myself I could ever hope to be, and I would not have anyone else by my side. I'm glad I'm spending my eternity with you."

Dream's eyelashes flutter in pleasure at his words before he leans in and gives Hob a soft kiss on the lips. Hob returns it with a passion, wanting Dream to understand that Hob has already decided his fate, and that he has chosen Dream. Will always choose him. Each and every time. Hob needs him to understand that. But how..?

An idea forms in his mind, and as soon as their kiss reached its natural conclusion, he pulls Dream towards the church proper.

"Hob?"

"Come, husband," he says, still filled with a giddy kind of joy whenever he says the title. "I want to make something clear to you."

Dream follows him.

A few moments later, the two of them stand in front of the door that would open to the main hall of the church.

"Is it empty?" Hob asks.

"Yes," Dream says. "The midnight mass won't be starting until later this evening."

"The midnight mass?" Hob repeats in shock. "Is it already Christmas Eve?"

Dream nods.

"Good," Hob says firmly. "Even better." He opens the door, and indeed, there was no one inside.

Hob marches them past the rows of votive stands, past the carved wooden pedestal holding the lit advent candles nestled upon a wreath of evergreen, and right up to the altar. Then, with only a moment's worth of hesitation, Hob shoves everything on the altar crashing down on the ground: the book stand, the large Bible it's holding open, candelabras with unlit candles, and a couple of flower vases. He winces as the objects make a dreadful amount of noise, the water from the vases seeping onto the pages of the Bible, the heavy book stand crushing the flowers, the candelabras dented in a couple of places, the candles placed upon them rolling across the floor.

"Is there a point to this destruction?" Dream asks behind him, sounding adorably confused as to why his usually mild-mannered husband is acting this way.

"No," Hob says, then turns back to Dream. He wants to see his husband's face for this. "I just wanted to clear the altar for my offering."

"Your offering?"

Hob starts to strip, and Dream immediately shuts his mouth, eyes darkening as he understands what Hob is trying to do.

"I am offering myself to you," Hob says, and starts reciting Dream's many titles. "--King of Dreams and Nightmares, One of the Seven Rulers of Hell, and my beloved husband. I would have you stake your claim on me in front of all the angels and saints, right at the altar of the god I used to worship."

Dream stares at him, now fully naked and slightly shivering from the cold air, his nipples pebbling. "You do not know what you're asking for, Robert Gadling," he says, though if the echo of Nightmare's voice tainting his is any indication, then Hob knows exactly what he's trying to do. "This would be unlike our marriage. Offering yourself to me in this way..."

"Can I be any more owned by you?" Hob asks, genuinely curious. "Am I not offering you myself, body and soul, so in the future you will not do stupid things like think I would want to be away from your side? Away from our home?"

"You would be offering yourself body and soul to me, Hob, this is true," Dream says. "But you must know that in offering yourself to me the way you are planning, naked and willing upon an altar, you are also offering to bear my children."

"Your chil--" Hob gapes at him and looks down at himself, at his own body, which is still very hairy and very male. "You can get me pregnant?" He asks, only sounding slightly hysterical.

Dream nods gravely. "And now you see why offering yourself this way to me would be unwise. However, I have noted your intention, and will try not to do...foolish things in the future."

"And if I want it?" Hob asks, unwilling to leave just yet without being fucked here, in the place where he went through life like a ghost, upon the very altar he stood behind and spoke words of faith while having none in his heart. He feels his cock growing hard under Dream's eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained. "If I want to become pregnant with your child?"

Dreams eyes are turning so dark, it was like the stars in them have started to go out one by one. The end of multiple universes. "Hob."

"I am willing," Hob says. "And while I am no longer a virgin, I had been when you first--"

"You should not say these things," Dream says in Nightmare's voice, stepping forward into Hob's space. The shadows were gathering around him and slithering around Hob's feet like snakes. "Not unless you want me to fuck you pregnant in the house of your god."

Hob steps closer until his naked body is flush against his husband, precome staining Dream's dark robes, then leans upwards so he could kiss Dream's and Nightmare's fanged mouth. They nip at his lips and push him back against the altar, the stone cold and hard against his back. Hob moans and twines his arms around their neck, letting them lift him so he could sit on the altar. "Haven't you heard, my husband?" Hob murmurs against their lips. "I worship a different god now."

--

"More," Hob begs, an indeterminate amount time later. Dream's cum drips from his hole and onto the altar, but still Hob spreads himself open. "Again."

Dream kisses him lovingly and obeys. Half of his face is Nightmare and the other half is Dream. He only gets this way when he's feeling so much pleasure that both sides of himself come out to play. Hob loves him like this. Dream is generally a gentle lover while Nightmare prefers a hard fuck. But both of them at the same time means petal soft kisses from Dream while Nightmare chokes him with a hand around his throat as his cock jackhammers into Hob.

"Insatiable," Dream says in Nightmare's voice as he thrusts hard into Hob. It's good that the altar is made of stone or else it would have broken under their vigorous fucking. "Do you really intend for me to breed you here? Are you not going to be satisfied until my seed takes?"

Hob moans. Yes. That would, in fact, be the ideal outcome. He spreads his legs wider.

"And to think you had been a virgin when I married you," Nightmare says in Dream's voice, possessive and fond at the same time. "Your hole was so tight I had to spend hours with my tongue between your legs to loosen you up. And now your body knows my cock so well you can take me with minimal preparation."

Hob squeezes him as much as he could in retaliation, though it was a weak little thing, his hole already fucked sloppy and loose.

"What a slutty husband I have," they tell him. "Uncaring that at any point now, the deacons and the sacristans will be arriving to do last minute preparations. I doubt they'll have anything to say about the mess you made on the floor, not when they see a former priest of this church getting fucked like a whore right on top of their sacred altar."

Hob mewls at that, aroused beyond belief. He knows he probably shouldn't feel that way. How he should instead feel humiliation flooding his veins at the thought of being found in such a position by the people who used to respect him.

But oh, to be found pleasing his eternal husband, undeniably marked with his teeth and claimed by his large cock...

"Want it," he gasps. It was so hard to speak and his thoughts are a scattered mess. "Show. I'm yours."

"You want me to continue fucking you in front of them?" Nightmare asks, delighted. "You want me to laugh in their faces as they wield their wooden crosses at me when they try to banish me? Shall I bathe them in flame and watch them burn alive when they do?"

Hob doesn't care. He could barely remember them anyway.

"It is tempting," Dream admits. "I want to see the look on their faces when they realize that Father Robert didn't just disappear mysteriously, but was instead granted a better life. However," and here he grinds harder to emphasize his point. Hob keens, toes curling and legs shaking. He has lost count of how many times he came, but he could feel the pressure building in his stomach once more. He'll probably cum dry this time. Or totally lose control of his body and squirt all over Dream. It's already happened once. "I do not want anyone else to see you like this. Only I should have that privilege. Don't you agree?"

Hob nods frantically. Whatever his husband wants. Fuck, his cock feels so good. Hob wants him to fill him up more until he grows round with his cum.

"No, I think we'll just leave them a nice little Christmas present." And with that, Dream wraps his hand around Hob's cock and starts stroking him to the rhythm of his thrusts. Hob practically seizes, wailing, cumming dry, as Dream pounds him harder through his orgasm before shooting another batch of cum straight into Hob's newly formed womb.

--

When the first group of deacons arrive to make the final preparations for the Midnight Mass, the mess on the floor that Hob created is not the first thing they see. Nor do they notice that the altar was desecrated by a truly overflowing amount of both human and demon cum.

They would have noticed these things, but Dream kept his promise and left them his Christmas present, to help make the church look more festive at such an important time in their liturgical calendar.

He did this by covering every interior surface of the church, from ceiling to floor, and not missing a single statue, with fresh, bright red blood.

[noneedtoamputate]

So @basilone tagged me two weeks ago (sorry this is so late!) and @mercurygray tagged me tonight to post the last sentence of a current WIP, and wouldn't you know, I am working on Chapter 2 of my Band of Brothers Olympic AU featuring several of her Girl Gang characters from The Darkening Sky. This is more than a few sentences, but I want to share because I'm excited to share.

-

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking directly at Eileen. “It was a terrible thing to do. Yes, Irene and I were just about to break up, but we hadn’t yet, and I shouldn’t have done that to her, and I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Eileen looked away first. 

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. 

Lew felt some kind of weird energy between them that he couldn’t describe. He didn’t know what it was, only that he somehow knew that she felt it, too.

And that’s why her next words hurt so much.

“You know what they say. Like father, like son,” she said sarcastically.

He was still looking at Eileen, but he heard Blanche let out a small gasp. 

“I am nothing - nothing - like my father,” he said quietly. 

He stood up, took his wallet out of his jeans pocket, and threw one hundred euros down on the table without a second thought.

“Coffees are on me. Enjoy, ladies.” 

He walked off, not knowing where he was going, only knowing that wherever it was, he wouldn’t have to see look at Eileen Hammond for the rest of the day.

Tagging @kindsummer @almost-a-class-act and @lostloveletters (no pressure) or anyone else who wants to do it.

[wordbunch]

perfectly proper (RoP Elrond x Reader)

a/n: finally writing again!!! this was requested and I hope I did it justice 😊 let me know how you liked it ❤️

summary: Elrond is interested in Celebrimbor’s daughter...only that he doesn’t know she’s his daughter, until it accidentally gets revealed.

Lindon was bustling as every and any available elf was doing all in their power to prepare for the upcoming feast in celebration of the first day of spring. It seemed livelier than ever after a dull, gray winter. Elrond, the High King’s herald, was overseeing some last preparations concerning the dinner table, wanting to make sure everything was as close to perfection as possible. Carefully, his eyes pored over stunning emerald name tags on which names of important guests were carved in intricate golden letters. The Elf’s attention was immediately drawn to a certain name, of a person especially dear to him. [Y/N].

A small frown found its way onto Elrond’s handsome face when he realized [Y/N] was supposed to be seated a good few places away from him. He quickly looked around to see if anyone was nearby and paying attention to him, before his eyes darted back to [Y/N]’s name plate. He couldn’t mess around with the King’s seating arrangements, right…? Or could he? He fidgeted with the hem of his deep blue cape as he considered what he could do. Celebrimbor was supposed to be sitting on [Y/N]’s right side, and an elf-maiden, a friend of [Y/N]’s, would be on her left. Elrond’s mind was racing as he thought of his options, his sole focus being finding a way to spend more time in the presence of the gorgeous, captivating woman, who seemed to be taking up more and more space in his heart.

As soon as the majestic dining hall became a little bit emptier, everyone having gone to their chambers to get themselves presentable on time, Elrond finally made up his mind and quickly repositioned some of the dark green name plates. With this new arrangement, [Y/N] and Elrond were sitting next to each other, but he was momentarily too anxious to thoroughly think about where he moved the other honorable guests. The herald tried to smooth out some wrinkles in his clothes, but opted for going for a change of clothes, since a few more minutes were left before the start of the dinner. 

His timing turned out to be almost perfect, since he walked right into [Y/N] on his way back from his chambers, and he gallantly offered his arm out to her, which she gladly accepted.

“My lady,” he bowed slightly, heat rushing into his cheeks, “allow me to escort you to dinner.”

“Gladly,” the girl smiled at him and very subtly squeezed his arm, hoping that he wouldn't notice. “The shade of your robes brings out your eye color beautifully, my Lord,” [Y/N] complimented, feeling surprisingly bold even without any liquid courage.

“You are too kind,” Elrond mused, meeting her eyes for a brief moment; his heart almost skipped a beat. “However, I fear that your beauty is beyond any words that I can utter. None of them would do justice to your radiance.”

“Is it not too early for you to be making me blush this much?” [Y/N] raised an eyebrow at Elrond, but secretly enjoyed his flattery. She was hoping that he couldn’t hear her rapidly quickening heartbeat. 

“It is never too early to appreciate the brightest star in this whole realm, Lady [Y/N]. In my humble opinion, that could be no one else but you,” Elrond confessed earnestly, feeling mild disappointment at the fact that they’d almost reached the dining hall already - he wanted [Y/N] all to himself. 

“Have you had much to drink already?” [Y/N] joked with a vibrant laugh. “The feast hasn’t even started.”

“I am merely relishing in just existing by your side after a busy day,” Elrond shrugged nonchalantly as he led the two of them towards the large, richly decorated table. It was already swarming with people. “You bring out a different side of me.”

“Well then, I am very happy to hear that,” [Y/N] tilted her head slightly, looking up at him with a glimmer in her eyes. Her eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise when she realized she was seated next to the herald at the dining table, but she was overjoyed. It was only a bit strange to her that her father seemed to be sitting a few seats further away, but she shrugged it off. Who knows what the king had in mind when planning the seating, the girl thought. Elrond pulled out her chair and helped her get settled in before he sat himself, and immediately offered her a drink. [Y/N] gladly accepted, hoping she’d be able to let loose a bit over the course of the evening, especially since she’d been sitting next to Elrond and some other younger elves. 

“Do you think the High King will be late to his own feast once again?” she nudged Elrond, speaking in a low, mischievous voice. He tried not to laugh too loudly at her comment, so he just took a sip from his crystal glass.

“Remember, he is never late, everyone else is just early,” the herald smirked. 

“My father isn’t here yet either,” [Y/N] muttered as she surveyed the room suspiciously. “Now that is most unusual.”

“Your father?” Elrond inquired, almost falling off of his chair when he heard the well-known voice of Celebrimbor speak up loudly.

“Is there a reason why my daughter is seated so far away from me?”

Elrond froze, his eyes going wide. [Y/N] was Celebrimbor’s daughter? How hadn’t he put the pieces together earlier? While Elrond was sitting in disbelief, [Y/N] got up to go greet her father.

“I will be sitting over there, next to Elrond,” she gestured towards the elf who was still sitting dumbstruck. Celebrimbor raised an eyebrow.

“I see,” he exhaled. “Let me go over there and talk to him for a moment, then.”

“I really think that is not nece-” [Y/N] began, but her father just raised a hand and walked in the direction of the herald. Elrond was only hoping he didn’t look like a deer in headlights, as his thoughts went to how he was rearranging the name tags earlier. Maybe he should have thought it through a little bit. Maybe. As soon as Celebrimbor appeared next to Elrond, the herald felt very, very small, but he looked up regardless.

“If you try anything improper with my daughter-” he began, and [Y/N] appeared next to the two within a second”

“Ada, leave him be. For the love of Valar, that is just Elrond,” she gestured towards him and he gave an awkward little smile, trying to look as innocent as possible. “We have known each other forever. He is anything but improper.” 

“My Lord,” Elrond started, his voice almost cracking, “your daughter is very special to me, and I would never harm her in any way.” At this point, the eyes and ears of everybody in the room were fixated solely on the three. Both for his own comfort, and in order to reassure [Y/N], he gently squeezed her hand. 

“I told you,” the girl smiled at the older elf whose eyes were going back and forth between his daughter and Elrond. “He is perfectly decent.” Before any of them had a chance to add anything else, the stern voice of the High King Gil-Galad cut through the room.

“Who has been tampering with the seating arrangement?!”

-

❤️ ❤️ everything taglist ❤️ ❤️

 @starlady66​ @lazyoswald​ @lotrnonsense​ @entishramblings

[aloriespassword]

falling like snow on the beach.

• Reiner Braun x Gender Neutral! Reader

abstract. how nice is it that your dream has finally come true?

tags/genre. fluff, kinda modern au.

him wanting me tonight seemed so impossible. but yet, he did. he did want me.

it’s… weird. weird like when you see snow at the beach. weird but… freaking beautiful.

goodness, reiner’s damn attractive. he’s only 24 yet he’s looking like a dilf with kids but he didn’t even dated anyone yet before.

i’m going crazy. literally crazy for this man.

the way his voice sounded so deep and hot! it’s making me squirm and all red on the face, making me do funny faces because i’m blushing badly.

so gentlemanly and so dreamy. wish he could be mine after he said “tonight.”

“y/n.”

I hope he only doesn’t want me for tonight.

“y/n?”

so weird, I like him as well. very much so.

“y/n!”

you got out of your trance once reiner began to shake you a little, the trace of your imaginary face now gone once you saw him looking at you in worry.

have you been simping for this man to the point that you weren’t even listening to what he said?

“you okay? looks like you’ve been thinking a lot,” reiner let out a deep chuckle. “yes, yes I am!” you can’t tell him that you have been imagining your future with him after he said he wants you “tonight.”

“and uhm… as i’ve said,” reiner looked away. and when he did, you can see a faint red hue on his right ear.

you looked at the sky, the sun setting as you both sat on the sand, the waves giving you a relaxed sound despite its strong waving.

“I want you, for tonight— no, forever…” reiner sucks at these kinds of confessions but it has to be done. he can’t keep himself from you any longer. you’re just too pretty not to make you his.

“hmm, okay…” at first, you’re, once again, absentminded. but… “HUH!?” the blond flinched beside you as you let out a loud exclaim, gazing at reiner as if he has grown two heads.

but are you really that shocked that he wants you forever?

of course you are! reiner can choose other girls to be with yet here he is, watching the sunset with you and confessing to you before it.

a red hue dusted your cheeks before you look away from reiner, finding the right words to speak at this very moment.

at this very moment when he confessed that he wants you. not tonight, but forever.

he suddenly took a hold of your hand, you immediately sensed that it was an indication for you to relax yourself ‘cause it’s just him and you. under the setting sun.

“do you want me too?” reiner asked with a gentle and earnest expression, his tone really soft. in contrast of his usually deep rough voice. you turned to look at the blond you’re beginning to love so much.

you dreamed of this to happen, you imagined a lot of scenarios about this kind of scenario, and yet… this is already happening. he’s looking at you so earnestly with those hazel eyes, his face looked so kind that it almost made you cry.

this is probably your biggest dream than getting your dream job.

with that, you leaned forward and gently and softly landed your forehead against his, closing your eyes while a gentle smile descended upon your lips. him doing the same.

“more than anything else.”

weird… but so beautiful.

© RIERIE 2023 | do not copy, modify, repost my works on other platforms. ask for permission first !

[ghostwise]

touch prompt 13 for your ship of choice!

13. on a falling tear tags: shadowheart/tav, religion, cleric of kelemvor, cleric of shar, hurt/comfort

.

It’s late, and she’s cried long and hard enough to give herself a headache thrice over. The bed she’s laying in feels more like a coffin; opulence covered in so much dust and death, but after that battle, they needed beds, and Ketheric Thorme’s fortress had plenty.

And yet, they are alive.

It is nothing short of a miracle.

Zirahuén faced Myrkul head-on, and the Lord of Bones lost.

Does this mean something? The Reaper vanquished by Death’s noble defender? Shadowheart recalls the sight of her, shoulders squared, spear aloft before that hollow skull... one almost believes in things like Truth, and Life, and Justice.

Almost.

The pain in her hand flares, sending a white hot bolt up her wrist and all the way to her shoulder. She never expects it when it comes. Her body seizes up, the pain chiding her. It seems to say to her: No home will welcome you. No warm places will find you. That is the truth, betrayer.

Horrible, what a person can withstand.

Shadowheart buries her face into the pillow. The beadwork covering it scratches at her cheeks, but she scarcely notices. Nor does she move when the heavy oak door creaks open, and a delicate weight alights at the foot of the bed.

“Hey.”

Zirahuén’s voice comes in a soft murmur. Shadowheart looks at her.

Claid in a cream-colored tunic and black leggings, she has washed off every last bit of viscera and dirt, but the marks of exhaustion are still visible upon her. Zirahuen’s deep, brown eyes are lined in tension. She’s tired.

“May I keep you company for a while?” she asks, and faced with such a request, Shadowheart is helpless.

“Pillows are a bit shit,” she says as she makes room.

“Hospitable as the man himself,” Zirahuén agrees as she settles in. “How-?”

“Don’t. You know what happens when you ask me that.”

Shadowheart buries her face in Zirahuén’s shoulder. Zirahuén’s arms settle around her. Her tail curves over her hips. Their legs entangle. They’ve learned well how they fit together. This is familiar, when nothing else is.

“It's going to be alright,” Zirahuén whispers, and Shadowheart lets out a frustrated breath.

“You want me to cry.”

“A little catharsis can do wonders.”

“Believe me, there aren’t enough tears that could make this any easier.”

“Easy? No,” Zirahuén says. “This was never going to be easy, love. But I am sorry.”

Damn her. Zirahuén is the easiest person to believe. Shadowheart can be taken by her words and lifted—all too easily at that—but then again, she has always been a holy woman, and now without a goddess to attend to, what else is that faith supposed to do? Where does it all go? She wants to believe something. Her mind misses being so sure, so devoted.

A week ago she would have killed for Shar without question. A week ago, she planned to.

How and when was her belief so thoroughly eroded? And if that was impermanent, what of the rest of her heart and its convictions?

What of Zirahuen’s brown eyes?

Shadowheart is crying again before she realizes it. Zirahuén only embraces her more tightly, and buries her face into her dark hair. “I’m here,” she whispers.

“Why?” is all Shadowheart can muster.

“You know as well as I, there is not always a reason why things happen-”

“No,” Shadowheart interrupts. “Why are you still here with me?”

Tearful, she pulls away, and Zirahuén watches her with only concern in her brown eyes.

“I’ve proved—so changeable. Everything I ever claimed to be or believed to be true was false! At best I can claim ignorance. At worst, I am a liar and fickle as the moon—”

“Shadowheart, no one thinks that of you,” Zirahuén tells her earnestly. “You did something admirable. Our victory would have been impossible without you.”

“Silver linings,” Shadowheart says bitterly. “And believe me, I am glad for my deficits if they led to you being alive and well. But face facts, Zirahuén: I lived my whole life devoted to Shar, and threw it away in an instant. What’s left if I so easily threw away my whole identity? Who’s to say I won’t do this again? To our allies? To you?”

At this, Zirahuén looks very serious. She purses her lips and her brow furrows as she gives Shadowheart a look that is so engaging, so exacting, Shadowheart almost wants to turn away. Another tear spills down her cheek as she meets Zirahuén’s gaze.

“You,” Zirahuén says very slowly and carefully, “were deceived.”

Shame floods Shadowheart’s belly, settling into a dull ache. Then her hand fires off another stab of pain. She grimaces. Looks down at the tear-stained quilt beneath them.

“I can understand it’s difficult to admit. But Shadowheart, you were lied to. Manipulated. And gods know what else. You were a child. And yet… they failed, didn’t they?” She carefully sets a hand to Shadowheart’s cheek, and when she leans into her touch, brushes her thumb over her skin, wiping off a fresh tear.

“Do you know what is left, now you have thrown away the lies they tried to hammer into you? I will tell you, from my perspective: A woman of exceeding conviction, tenacity, and bravery. Tell me, do you want to return to Shar? Beg for forgiveness, and be brought back to her side?”

Shadowheart finds that she is trembling. Her heart hammers in her chest, but she already knows the answer. “No,” she says, voice scarcely above a whisper. “Never.”

Zirahuén gives her a small—proud—smile.

Shadowheart is not sure if she can bring herself to agree with Zirahuén, but she does believe her. Faith is like that. Perhaps she will never make sense of this, but something within her says it’s the effort that’s worth pursuing.

“Who will I pray to now?” she mumbles suddenly, a rhetorical question, yet Zirahuén answers with an unexpected kiss to her forehead.

“How about yourself? The Self is the beginning of any meaningful worship, after all.”

Shadowheart crowds onto Zirahuén’s pillow, and curls up against her once more. “I will consider it,” she says. “Thank you, Zirahuén… for being here while I’m at my worst.”

She smells of orchids under a new moon. Forgotten pantheons hide in her brown eyes. There is so much yet to be done, and no guarantee of success or even survival. Yet, Zirahuén cradles her head, and holds her like she’s worth holding onto.

This makes all the difference.

[britcision]

this is not in regards to any laws being introduced and i say this as a queer person who was a victim of csa - do you earnestly believe websites putting their foot down when it comes to child pornography and content fetishizing horrifying abuse like rape and incest will lead to "censorship" of innocent queer content? do you believe that with your entire chest? do you not see how you are inherently correlating fetishization of abuse with content of gay people existing? and mind you, i am not talking about content that merely explores these themes, but if you jump to try and include exploration of the effects of abuse in graphic detail with content pedophiles make to get off at the thought of a child being molested and then share so other pedophiles can do the same, what does that say about you? why do you feel the need to mock victims and make straw man arguments no adult actually makes about fiction, and then thusly you are targeting the poorly formed opinions of children who are clearly hurt and terrified to mock them for not fully understanding how to properly articulate what they wish to express? do you not see how none of this helps anyone. you are probably a victim yourself, i know, don't get me wrong. i am just trying to make a point. even if you don't understand, or look within yourself, it doesn't really matter to me. i'm gonna block you and move on because i have better things to do than try to genuinely convince a person with their ao3 username in bio about how they have malformed opinions over the internet lmao.

Because the people who are pushing this law to “protect children” are literally the same ones who are getting gay books banned from schools and getting teachers fired for talking about their home lives should they dare to be queer

Because back when FOSTA/SESTA was passed with almost identical hype about “protecting children”, the only thing that happened was porn bans and queer content being deleted or buried. Including images of two men/women holding hands

Because studies have been done for decades, and these kinds of laws have never, ever, made anyone even remotely more safe; all they do is make tagging a legal liability for companies, meaning you cannot meaningfully filter out fan content that might trigger you

Because putting the onus on internet providers or hosts does not catch, slow, or even hinder the people actually abusing children - it just means that anyone who wants a queer content creator removed can just spam report all their work as csa

Because I actually care about children, and have done the research rather than just believing every single cry I hear of “for the children” - the tagline of every racist and queerphobic piece of legislation since before anyone alive today was born

Because pointing out that “queer content is all pedophilia” is an argument these people will immediately use to destroy queer content is not corroborating that opinion; it’s basic pattern recognition, and pretending that it is anything else is a suppression tactic to stop people from calling out that bullshit

If you actually care about children and want them to be safe, stop knee jerk reacting and start actually thinking. The data’s all a Google away, the studies have been done, and anyone who was even remotely engaged when SESTA/FOSTA passed should have noticed just what that legislation actually did

We have seen these kinds of bills before. We saw what happened immediately after. Criminologists around the world have studied the results: children are not safer. And I care more about that than buzzwords and temper tantrums online

But go off about “poorly formed opinions” defending the exact same game plan that happened literally a decade ago like no one has ever heard of history. Makes you look real noble, totally disguises your judgemental hissy fit as Brave Justice Warrior

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Keys to Change - Chapter Two

Rating: 18+ Features: Secondo x OC (Ophelia) Word count: 2154 Tags: brothers, family help, domestic fluff, developing relationship (Also available on AO3)

______________________________________________________

The next morning was not unlike many of their mornings together. More rushed than either would have liked. Ophelia wasn’t in the habit of pouting or begging for more time. He had duties and so did she. Left to her own devices, her day might have started later, but he was up and she followed. Promises made to find him for lunch, careful kisses not to spoil his paints, and she was off to take advantage of the early start to snatch a pastry and a coffee from the dining hall before sequestering herself in her office to read. And Secondo watched her go until she’d turned a corner and was out of sight, a new anxiety wriggling in his gut. 

There was an attempt at work when he got to his office. Several attempts. A cigarette smoked leaning out his window, like he was some teenager afraid of getting caught. An espresso that did nothing to calm his nerves. But mainly, his morning was spent pacing. Pacing and overthinking. 

“Fratello.” His office door flew open and Terzo entered in a swish of robes and hand gestures he didn’t care to try to decipher. “You want to go for a walk, maybe you go outside. It is beautiful out. In here, all morning, I can hear your shoes - clack, clack, clack on the stone - in my office. You keep the time, I give you that. But is driving me mad.”

Secondo stopped and stared back at his younger brother, working his jaw and his fists. Still too wound up to hold still. The look wasn’t lost on Terzo, taking stock of him more closely. He wasn’t known for his outward expressions, apart from the scowl that settled too easily on to his stern face. But this was family. This was his brother. Even the subtle signs stood out like a ghoul in church. The sarcastic smirk and the urge to tease fell away, and Terzo’s whole posture changed. 

“Ah. So. Not just walking. Worrying.” He said, dropping down onto the couch pushed up against the wall. “Tell me.”

Secondo frowned and squared his shoulders, trying to look less like he needed advice. “There is nothing to tell. I am only thinking.”

“Overthinking.”

His frown deepened. “I am in no mood for jokes.”

“Who is joking?” Terzo said earnestly. “I know this look. You think and you panic and you pace. I don’t forget and I am not so stupid. Tell me and I help you.”

“There is nothing to-”

“Tell me, Secondo. I don’t leave until you do. So you tell me quick and I go, or you act a stubborn ass and I stay here annoying you.” He said, looking nearly as unamused as his brother. 

For a long moment he stood in silence, stuck between hating asking for help and desperately needing it. When he took a step toward the couch, Terzo half expected a slap. Instead, Secondo sat. Dropping down next to him with a heavy sigh. Letting his head fall back and staring up at the ceiling. 

“You don’t tease.” It wasn’t a question. “You don’t make fun.”

“On my life.”

Secondo only huffed. “Ophelia.”

It was Terzo’s turn to sigh, giving him a long-suffering look. “If you drive her away again, I don’t go beg her to come back for you. You apologise and pray she stupid enough to forgive you on your own.”

“I don’t drive her away!” He snapped before he could catch himself. Pausing to take a breath. “There is no problem with her. Not… for her. I am a problem.” 

“Tell me you don’t do something stupid.”

“Terzo.”

“Tell me.” He said firmly. 

“I do nothing!” Secondo sat up and looked over at him. “You think you don’t hear if I do something so stupid? Because we fight so quiet?”

The smirk crept back on to Terzo’s face. “No. I think the whole Abbey hears when you fight. How you find a woman who yells as loud as you, I never know. But even the old one hears you both. Still, it worries me as much thinking I don’t hear you at all last night. Screaming for fighting or for fucking.”

That one did earn him a smack. Secondo’s hand landing heavily against his chest. “Idiota.” He said without any real venom. 

“Oh? Si? But I am not the one panicking for nothing.” He smacked him right back.

“Not nothing!” Secondo growled and stood up again, walking over to stare into the remains of the last fire burned in the hearth without really seeing it. His mind rushing back to the night before, many nights before. Days and nights and holidays and celebrations and… all of it. 

“Yesterday is a bad day. Bad week. I am tired and… tired.” He let out a long sigh, shoulders drooping. “She sees. Without thinking even, she sees. I answer the door and she is already fussing. Taking care. Not only thinking is so easy to fix, a quick fuck and all better.”

Terzo opened his mouth and closed it again, swallowing his comment. 

“She is always like this!” It came out sounding almost annoyed. And he was, a little. Not that she did it but that it made him realise his own shortcomings doing the same in return. Something he needed to work on, Secondo decided. 

“So… what? You are thinking to do something stupid because she takes care of you?” 

“I am not doing something stupid!” He glared at his little brother and took a breath. “I think… I think maybe I ask her to move in. With me. Into my quarters.”

Terzo blinked at him, staring like he’d misheard. Somewhere between laughing and trying to shake some sense into him. Lucifer, have mercy, how the man could have all the confidence in the world one moment only to have it crumble to dust when faced with the most normal of life’s decisions never stopped surprising him. “That… that is a problem?”

“Is no small thing!” Secondo answered sharply. 

He opened his mouth and closed it again, rethinking the approach. “You are overthinking.” Terzo held up a hand before his brother could respond. “How many times, in even just the last six months, do you sleep alone in your bed?”

“That is not the p-”

“It is. The whole point. How many times, fratello? Ah? If even once, I will be surprised.” He stood and walked over to stand next to him. “She already lives with you, asino. (jackass) You don’t even need to ask. She is there already. So what is the difference? She has her own key. She keep her things with you. You don’t ask if she stays tonight because she lives there.”

Secondo looked rather sheepishly at the floor. “... I don’t ask if she stays tonight now. Because I know she stays.”

“E tu sei ancora qui a camminare avanti e indietro e a preoccuparti e a farmi impazzire?!” Terzo blurted and smacked his arm and the back of his head half a dozen times in rapid succession. “Cosa hai così paura che lei veda che non abbia già visto? Lei lo sa che sei uno stronzo! Ha visto che bastardo scontroso sei! Sa che sei pazzo della tua routine, delle tue cose e di tutto! E lei è ancora lì! Hai trovato qualcuno abbastanza pazzo da sopportare le tue stronzate e sei preoccupato - di cosa??”

“È un cambiamento! Un grande cambiamento! E io sono…” He pushed past Terzo and sat down again, hanging his head. “Ho paura, ok? Ho paura che se cambio le cose... le rovinerò. In queste cose non sono bravo, Terzo. Lo sai che non sono bravo in questo. Vuoi che combatta contro qualcuno? Posso farlo. Ma questo? Questo mi terrorizza.”

Walking over, Terzo sat next to him, closer than before. Patting his big brother’s knee and sighing softly. “She really does get to you, this one, ah?” Not that it was any secret. Not to his brothers anyway. “You are better than you think. With her, at least. I don’t think I ever see you try so hard. And she is good for you. You talk more now, with her, listen better, don’t get so angry. You don’t even threaten to kill me in months.” 

Secondo smirked. “So you like her because she keeps you safe?”

“Si.” He nudged him. “And because she makes my brother happy. I don’t see this in a long time.”

“I am fine, Terzo.”

“You are full of shit. But, at least you find someone who likes this. Poor insane girl.” He barely dodged the smack he knew was coming. “Fine! Fine! Listen, you know what to do. So why panic? You want this. She, I think, wants this. What is it but formality? You are overthinking and holding back and what happens the last time?”

“... She leaves.” Secondo admitted reluctantly. 

“Because you act like a prick. And she still comes back. This time, you skip being a prick, you say how you feel, and you learn to share space.”

“I hate when you are right.” He grumbled. “You are so fucking smug.”

“Si.” Terzo grinned. “But I am very cute.”

Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. Secondo jumped up like his ass was on fire, only then realising how late it had gotten. Ophelia had said she was coming for lunch and she was punctual, always. The door swung open and she walked in smiling, carrying a tray from the dining hall. Her expression faltered slightly, seeing the remnants of his panicked rush to get up on his face. 

“Stai bene?” She asked before noticing they weren’t alone, standing up a little straighter. “Papa, forgive me. I didn’t see you. If I’m interrupting, I can come back.”

“I tell you, a hundred times, Terzo. Is only Terzo for you, Sorella.” He stood and straightened out his robes. 

“And I’ve told you, Terzo is for after hours. Robes and paint are for Papa.” Ophelia smirked. 

“If I hear you calling out Papa from my office while you are here, on duty , I will throw up.” He kissed her cheek as he slipped past her. “I don’t keep you from your lunch.”

“I promise you, Papa, it’s Secondo when he is… enjoying his lunch.” 

Terzo made a retching sound as he left, closing the door behind him. Leaving Ophelia and his brother behind. She grinned over at Secondo, still looking a little flustered but relaxing quickly. Rushing to clear a space for the tray. 

“You encourage him.” He smirked. 

“He doesn’t need encouragement.” Unburdened, she walked around the desk, stretching up to kiss him. “Tutto bene? Terzo era qui e tu sembri... preoccupato.”

He leaned into her kiss and then placed another on her forehead. Waving away the concern and reassuring. “Stronzate del Ministero. Aveva bisogno di aiuto per il bilancio. Perché venne da me e non da Copia, non lo so.”

She eyed him suspiciously, as if ready to question his explanation. But after a moment, the look fell away and she took her seat across from him. Secondo reached across the desk for her hand and she lay it in his palm, smiling lovingly when he lifted it to kiss her fingers. His eyes never leaving her face. Terzo was right, damn him. He knew the answer to his own question. The terror remained but his needs and desires outweighed it. 

“You will come tonight?” He tried to sound casual, setting out the lunch she’d brought properly and moving the tray aside. 

Ophelia raised a brow. “I was planning on it. Unless… you prefer I don’t?”

Secondo’s head snapped up. “No. I don’t say this.”

“Sto scherzando.” She chuckled, brushing her fingers over the back of his hand. 

He sighed and gave her an unamused look that didn’t carry any real weight. “Mi terrò la mia confutazione per stasera.”

____________________________________________________

“E tu sei ancora qui a camminare avanti e indietro e a preoccuparti e a farmi impazzire?!” = And you're still here pacing and worrying and driving me crazy?!

“Cosa hai così paura che lei veda che non abbia già visto? Lei lo sa che sei uno stronzo! Ha visto che bastardo scontroso sei! Sa che sei pazzo della tua routine, delle tue cose e di tutto! E lei è ancora lì! Hai trovato qualcuno abbastanza pazzo da sopportare le tue stronzate e sei preoccupato - di cosa??” = What are you so afraid of her seeing that she hasn't seen already? She knows you're an asshole! She's seen what a grumpy bastard you are! She knows you're insane with your routine and your things and with everything! And she is still there! You found someone crazy enough to put up with your bullshit and you're worried - about what??

“È un cambiamento! Un grande cambiamento! E io sono…” = It's a change! A big change! And I am…

“Ho paura, ok? Ho paura che se cambio le cose... le rovinerò. In queste cose non sono bravo, Terzo. Lo sai che non sono bravo in questo. Vuoi che combatta contro qualcuno? Posso farlo. Ma questo? Questo mi terrorizza.” = I'm afraid, okay? I am afraid that if I change things... I'll ruin it. I'm not good at this, Terzo. You know I'm not good at this. You want me to fight someone? I can do that. But this? This terrifies me.

“Stai bene?” = are you okay?

“Tutto bene? Terzo era qui e tu sembri... preoccupato.” = Everything okay? Terzo was here and you look… worried.

“Stronzate del Ministero. Aveva bisogno di aiuto per il bilancio. Perché venne da me e non da Copia, non lo so.” = Ministry bullshit. He needed help with budgeting. Why he came to me and not Copia, I don't know.

“Sto scherzando.” = I’m joking.

“Mi terrò la mia confutazione per stasera.” = I will save my rebuttal for this evening.