#i shouldn’t get a free pass just because my sister is worse than me
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insane that i’m the biggest disappointment of a child for smoking weed but the child that’s emotionally abusive is fine
#i??? do not understand my parents#like ok yes it is bad that my room smells of weed and is messy#but!#feels real fucking weird that my mum gets more upset with me about that than my sister being the literal devil incarnate#and not in a fun way#like dinner last night i literally did not say a single word bc me. just speaking. apparently triggers izzy and i think i literally just#acknowledged a joke being made and she started her whole. you need to leave. get out. you’re the problem. everyone hates you. shtick#and my mums response is can you just be nice to each other#???????????#GIRL I DIDNT DO A FUCKING THING#I KNOW YOU DONT LIKE CONFLICT AND THE CONFLICT APpArENtLy ONLY OCCURS WHEN IM PRESENT#(it doesn’t. she’s even worse to my mum but mum never. fucking does anything about it#which yeah i do get bc defending urself or literally just saying or reacting in anyway than what The Devil wants you to ends up a mess)#but maybe use two fucking braincells and realise i’m not the worst one here??#i’m actually gonna go insane#also it’s like. lowkey so funny that mums disappointed bc she thinks i haven’t been smoking for months#which i have!! u just haven’t fuckin realised it bestie!! so maybe the reason i am being depressed and useless rn is related to uhh the#fucking demon that’s living in the house again???#not because weed is so evil and brain rotting??#also like i do completely get how silly of me it is to blame everything on my sister when i am aware that my mum hates me smoking weed and#i shouldn’t get a free pass just because my sister is worse than me#but also.#i would like a free pass:(#basically! i should move out lol#but unfortuately i have spent all of my savings#can’t wait to spend 12 hours in the car with all of them tomorrow!!#ah you know when u look back at the times you were gonna kill urself and wish you just fucking did#vent post
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Driving in Palestine now is more dangerous than ever.
Yesterday, I drove from Ramallah to Dura, a village near Hebron to attend the funeral of Ahed, my friend’s baby sister, who had just become a mother. She was shot by an Israeli sniper. A heartbreaking loss.
If I could use Israel’s apartheid roads designated for settlers, it would be an 80-90 minute drive, but it took me 4 hours.
Why?
First, we’re forced to take segregated Palestinian only roads which make it a 2.5 hour drive because of checkpoints.
But these days, it’s even worse as Israel has imposed an even more strict strangulation policy over the West Bank, which means even some of those segregated roads are blocked and there are 10 times as many checkpoints.
Taking this drive outside our village/cities of residence is extremely dangerous for three reasons:
Settler attacks: Israeli settlers are in rampage mode, and you don’t know when you could get hit by a rock or bullet from one of their raging mobs.
Soldiers at the end of a wrong turn: There are no signs for what “roads” are currently opened or closed for us, you have to guess or stop to ask locals every few miles. If you make a wrong turn and end up face to face with soldiers, they can shoot you, and claim you attacked them.
Arrests for social media posts: If you’re stopped at a checkpoint, soldiers these days are taking folks’ phones and checking their WhatsApp’s and telegram and instagram. If you have a message standing in solidarity with Gaza, or anything the Israeli soldiers see as offensive, they’ll beat you to a pulp, and could even arrest you. My friend Diala, a human rights lawyer, was just arrested at one of these checkpoints this evening. We don’t know why, but it likely relates to her work and messages they found on her phone about it.
On my end, driving back at night was a nightmare, mainly because I had a friend in the car and was worried about him.
As we drove back, these historically busy streets were ghostly empty because nobody is taking the risk of driving at night unless necessary.
Every turn I’d take, I’d slow down to a crawl to make sure there was no trigger happy soldier or angry settler ready to pounce.
I got lucky as, although we waited at a checkpoint for an hour, the soldiers got bored and literally opened the checkpoint for all the cars to pass without any security check — proof they’re using these checkpoints arbitrarily as collective punishment.
In Dura, I saw where Ahed was shot.
The soldiers had stormed her village as part of their intimidation tactics in the West Bank to keep people anxious. Ahed ran to her roof to warn her husband to come home. An Israeli sniper shot her in the head.
As I drove home, thinking of Ahed, her heart broken family, the families of my friends in Gaza, all the souls we’ve lost, and how easy my life could be taken for simply driving across my ancestral lands to help my friend in her grief.
It shouldn’t have to be said, but our lives are precious. They’re beautiful. They’re equally worthy of joy and basic dignity.
I’m committed to one day being able to drive across my people’s ancestral land a free man, surrounded by my liberated people.
If Israel’s death machine is haunting us around every corner, we might as well live fighting for a life worth dying for.
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Judith Banters: Fenris
Fenris: Were you a templar in Ferelden? Is that how you are able to wield those powers?
Judith: Ah, I never explained that, did I? No, I was given lyrium and some templar training as a child, but I serve no Chantry. It was my father’s idea, so that I could better protect him and Bethany. And … if the worst should ever come to pass…
Fenris: Prudent, but all the same, that seems a cruel thing for a father to do to his children.
Judith: My father would have agreed with you.
*
Fenris: I understand the Blight is over, a new king crowned. You truly have no desire to go back?
Judith: Not none, but not enough. I could take a ship back, perhaps King Alistair would let me into the new army. And with Bethany in the Circle, there would be no cause for suspicion. I could perhaps become a true knight one day. But without my family, it would be hollow.
Fenris: I do not think your sister would want you deny your own future for her sake.
Judith: No, she wouldn’t. But with no one to support, no one to go back to … I used to dream of being a knight errant, and I would be free. I don’t feel that way anymore.
Fenris: Freedom is never so simple a thing.
*
Judith: Have you fought Darkspawn before?
Fenris: On a rare occasion. I single-handedly defended Danarius and his peers from a raid. They watched. A few applauded from their comfortable carriages, as though I was there to entertain them.
Judith: Of course they did. Worse yet, they had the means to assist you, but chose to do nothing.
Fenris: (scoffs) Why would they sully their hands with such menial tasks?
Judith: I am sorry, Fenris. I ask because I want you to be aware of the situation. I have never been to the Deep Roads before, and while there shouldn’t be as many, there will still be Darkspawn, and they will have the advantage.
Fenris: You aided me, and I shall return the favor. I will be ready.
Judith: And we will fight together, just as we did before.
*
(Act 2)
Judith: Are you still comfortable in the mansion, Fenris?
Fenris: It is sufficient. I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, and money for food. Far more than I often had before.
Judith: That’s not what I asked. Is the bed soft? Are you eating enough? You are awfully skinny. You know … even with Mother, Bodhan and Sandal, there really is more room than we know what to do with.
Fenris: That … is a kind offer, but I must decline. I need to … stay. Danrius might yet come to claim it.
Judith: Could I at least bring you some food sometimes? Bodhan always makes too much.
Fenris: I … would not refuse it.
*
Judith: Fenris, what happened with Hadriana … I don’t know what to say.
Fenris: What is there left to say? She is dead and nothing had changed.
Judith: No? You faced her, a woman who caused you pain. We were able to save Orana from a terrible fate. Does that not count for anything?
Fenris: I shudder to think how many more like her will suffer, if not from Hadriana, a thousand just like her.
*
(Act 3)
Fenris: What is it like… having siblings?
Judith: I remember being very young, and upset to learn that I would have to share what I had, including my parent’s attention. But I could not imagine my life without them. They were my closest, dearest friends.
Fenris: Bethany spoke of your brother often.
Judith: She did, she wanted to keep his memory alive. For the longest time, it hurt too much to even speak his name. But I think … I am getting better. I still miss him every day. I carry his memory in my heart. In a way, he is very much with me.
Fenris: I think I understand.
Judith: I think I know why you ask, and I think you know my answer. I think it would be good to keep in touch with Varania.
Fenris: I will … think on it.
*
Fenris: Will you be going to Starkhaven with Sebastian?
Judith: The plan is for me to become Viscount, that way I can better assist in the campaign to take his throne back. If that happens, I imagine I’ll be going back and forth a lot.
Fenris: I think you would make a good Viscount, for whatever that is worth. I hope you two will be happy together.
Judith: Thank you, Fenris. That means a lot. You know, I think his idea about you training elves is a good one. You know we both love you, and we’ll do all we can to support you.
Fenris: I know. Thank you, for everything.
#Judith Hawke#Fuck it one more today#I feel like Judy's doing most of the talking so I may try again another time#Also of all the DA2 companions I weirdly feel Fenris is weakest for me so ... consider this practice#Judy Banters
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Okay, I know someone else is writing their own version, but I couldn't help myself. Luckily, I know fanfic readers love reading the same tropes from different authors, so here you go. This will be a multi-chapter work. This will be on AO3 but for those of you who don't have it I will update on Tumblr too, and link to previous chapters. Not too fond of the title, let me know if I should change it.
Cain and Abel Wept 1/?
Next
Danny ran.
He still remembered the pain of betrayal the sword as his baby brother stabbed him in the back.
A ten-year-old led a six-year-old through dark and ancient tunnels.
‘A secret,’ the elder boy had called.
‘A game?’ the youngest boy had asked.
That’s how the youngest boy had understood it. All games were secret because if the purpose were less important than mother considered the time to be, they would be in trouble. Still, he memorized the paths they took. If they were caught, he could show that he could find the way back. That was a good skill; his mother and grandfather would lessen their punishment if caught.
“This way, Dami," his brother said, his voice soft but far too loud in the silent tunnels. “We’re almost free,”
“Free from what?”
“All of this,” Danyal said with conviction, “I have a plan. We can be normal.”
W—what do you mean?” Stories of traitors and what happened to them stopped Damian in his tracks.
“Normal kids don’t get in trouble for harmless games, Dami. It’s not right. But I found a way, and we won’t ever have to deal with it again.”
Danyal turned his back to his younger brother, ready to pull him along again.
A choice solidified within the youngest. This was not a game. One did not need to be as skilled as their opponent when they had the element of surprise.
Damian was not a traitor.
He left Danyal in a growing pool of blood.
Danny sobbed as memories came unbidden while running.
“Danyal, please, akhi, wait!”
Gotham was supposed to be safe. Gotham was supposed to be safe!
Danny didn’t want to die a third time (a second time by his baby brother’s hands.)
He had to get to his parents and sister. They had to leave Gotham. If Dami was here and so was the League, and they were worse than the GIW.
(At least all the GIW could do was hurt him physically, not betray him. Not break his heart.)
Danny ducked into an alley and turned invisible. He shouldn’t be using his powers lest it called out ghost hunters, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.
Damian entered the alley a second later and paused.
Danny took a good look at his younger brother for the first time in seven years.
He looked good. Dami was taller, muscles more defined but lithe. Deadly. He was wearing (expensive) jeans and a black button-down shirt. Little tufts of animal fur clung to him. Danny was confused at that. Grandfather didn’t allow emotional attachments to anyone, let alone animals.
“Akhi,” Dami whispered, choking back a sob. Danny almost blew his cover there until two people appeared in the ally.
“Baby D, what’s wrong,” the older one said. He was tall, lithe, and had black hair and startling blue eyes that screamed worried.
The other was a teenager around Danny’s age with bags under his eyes. He smelled of straight-up coffee. Geez, did he bathe in it? He also had black hair and blue eyes. The three could almost pass as blood brothers.
Damian shook his head, “I thought I saw—I thought…Akhi…”
Damian choked out a sob before falling to his knees. It took every bit of Danny’s self-control not to go and hold his younger brother as he used to when they were younger.
The other two looked at each other, worried and hesitant about what to do.
“Damian, akhi? That’s brother, right? What do you mean?”
Damian shook his head again, “My…my brother. I—I killed him,” he confessed in a whisper, “At least I thought I did.”
Suddenly he stood up, “But I just saw him! I would know him anywhere; it was Danyal, I swear!”
The other boys (men?) looked at each other with part pity and part anger.
“Damian, maybe you were just imaging things.”
“No, I wasn’t, Drake! It was him; it was Danyal!”
“Okay, how about we go back home and talk about this? We can ask O to check the cameras around the city to see if we can find…Danyal,” the oldest of the two said.
“It was him, Grayson. You don’t have to treat me like a petulant child.”
Grayson flinched, “Ouch, back to last names, little D?”
Damian snarled, and Danny almost giggled at how cute his younger brother looked. He almost gave away his position.
Danny watched as Drake and Grayson finally convinced Damian to leave the alley. It took him another half an hour before he could peel himself away from the wall. Danny didn’t let go of his invisibility.
It was pretty obvious from what Grayson had said that they had eyes all over the city.
…Fuck, they had eyes all over the city.
____
Danny made it back to their temporary home (aka room 37 in Motel 6) in under seven minutes.
He let his invisibility wash away.
“Danny, you know better than to use your powers like that!”
“We have to leave now,” Danny said instead of acknowledging his mom's scolding.
“Danny, what’s wrong,” Jazz asked.
“Is it the GIW, Dann-o,” his dad started packing the spare pieces of equipment he had dismantled on the dining table.
“No, worse.”
The other three Fentons stared at each other with worry as Danny stuffed the little bit of clothes in his suitcase haphazardly.
“Danny,” Maddie started cautiously, “Why don’t you tell us what happened, baby?”
“The past has caught up to me,” Danny sobbed.
____
In another part of Gotham, another parent, a father, was angry and grieving at the same time.
Another child, another son, hidden from him.
“Why didn’t you say anything before this, Damian?”
Bruce tried to keep the accusation out of his voice, but he knew he had failed when his youngest flinched.
“How was I supposed to tell you, father, that I had killed the only person I had truly loved in the League and who had only truly loved me for me? How was I supposed to tell you that I could’ve been with you seven years earlier if I hadn’t been moronic enough to quite literally stab the only person who cared for me in the back?”
Damian had tears streaming down his cheeks, “How was I supposed to tell you I’m a monster with my brother’s blood on my hands?”
Bruce went up to his youngest and held him close, “You’re not a monster, Damian.”
Talia was, Ra’s was a monster. Damian had been a victim as much as his brother had been.
“Now, tell me what happened.”
There in the cave, in front of his family, Damian confessed his sin. The Batcave was quiet for a while, with every family member in different stages of anger and grief.
Oracle’s voice broke it over the computer, “I found him, and he’s not alone.”
____
It took a little over an hour for Danny to tell his parents everything.
The League of Assassins, his legacy…his younger brother. Then the tears had come. It had taken longer to stop them than for Danny to tell them where he had come from.
Time they didn’t have.
The Fentons quickly packed and got into a more normal-looking (but still tricked-out) GAV. Just as they were about to leave, a shadow fell over them before a thump was heard.
In front of them stood the Dark Knight of Gotham, vengeance…And Danny Fenton’s biological father.
It was too late to run.
This Fandom has me by the fucking metaphorical balls lol. I tagged everyone that said to tag them so if you don't want an update on this fic let me know and I'll take you off.
By the way, just FYI I still have 29 other saved drafts and I keep adding T_T pray for me fam
@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo
A DP x DC Crossover
Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU
A ten year old leads a six year old through dark and ancient tunnels. *A secret,* the elder boy had called it, *a game*, the younger had understood. All games were secret, because if the purpose was less important than Mother considered the time to be they would get in trouble. Still, he memorized the paths they took. If they were caught, he could show that he could find the way back. That was a good skill.
"This way, Dami," his brother said, his voice soft, but far to loud in the silent tunnels. "We're almost free,"
"Free from what?"
"All of this." Danyal said with conviction, "I have a plan, we can be *normal."*
"W-what do you mean?" Stories of traitors and what happens so them stopped Damian in his tracks.
"Normal kids don't get in trouble for harmless games, Dami. It's not right. But I found a way, and we won't ever have to deal with it again."
A choice solidified. This was not a game. One did not need to be as skilled as their opponent when they had the element of suprise.
Damian was not a traitor.
He left Danyal in a growing pool of blood.
He found his way back to his mother, and he was never told that his brother's body was never found.
---
An exasperated barista called for the order with the legal maximum amount of caffeine.
Two people walked up to collect it.
The barista's eye twitched at the realization she had to make a second one of these, but read the name off the order and gave it to the boy who was not the regular.
The one with the drink gave a nod of solidarity to the one still waiting, and returned to his group.
The one without the drink did the same.
"Wow, can you believe someone else order's like Tim?" One of his brothers mused.
Damian looked over, and locked eyes with a ghost (Both literal and metaphorical). The coffee holder froze like prey uncertain if it had been noticed.
"Danyal?" Damian whispered and the rabbit had his permission to bolt.
"Wait!" But the other was already out the door, making his way into the crowd.
Damian vaulted over the table and gave chase.
His brothers sat stunned for a full two seconds before scrambling after him.
___
Idk if I plan on continuing, feel free to continue it yourself or use it as a prompt.
💕
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Calling Out For Her
Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader
A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158
(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.
A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.
The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.
“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.
She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.
“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.
“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.
“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.
Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!
“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!
The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.
“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.
For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.
“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.
“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.
“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.
“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”
“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.
“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”
(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.
(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?
(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.
“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”
Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.
“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.
“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.
(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.
***
Cassandra was a menace.
After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.
Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.
Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.
(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.
As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.
“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.
“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.
“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.
“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”
“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.
(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid���s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.
The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?
(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.
“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.
As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.
She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.
It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.
The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—
“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”
(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.
“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”
“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.
“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”
“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.
“Daniela, take a closer look.”
“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.
“Cass is literally going to kill me.”
“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.
“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.
“Bela!”
“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.
The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.
***
When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.
With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.
Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.
“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.
“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”
“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.
Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.
“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.
“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”
“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.
(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.
“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.
“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”
“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.
“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”
“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.
“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.
“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.
“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”
“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”
“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.
“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.
“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.
***
(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.
Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.
Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.
“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”
“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”
The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.
“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.
“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”
“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”
“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”
“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”
“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”
“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”
“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.
“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”
“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.
The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.
“Cassandra!”
“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.
“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.
It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.
“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”
Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.
“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”
(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.
The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.
Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.
“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”
(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”
“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.
“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”
“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”
“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.
“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.
“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.
“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”
“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”
“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”
(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.
“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.
Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.
She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.
“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”
(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.
Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.
(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.
“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.
“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.
“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.
“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”
“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.
“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.
“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”
“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.
“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.
“What do you want?” She grumbled.
“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.
“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.
“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.
“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.
It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.
“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”
“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.
“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.
“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.
Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,
“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.
(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.
(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.
“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”
Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.
Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.
“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.
Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.
“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.
“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.
“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.
Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.
“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”
Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.
“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.
#re8 oneshots#resident evil oneshots#resident evil village oneshots#cassandra dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu x reader
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1: This is not a “why Levi will end up with Mikasa”, at all. I’m not trying to boost our confidence in RM because I don’t want us to get hurt again, okay? Fine. Always remember that those 10 pages might be even worse than 139 but we will never stop shipping RM . Always remember the 138 beautiful chapters and ignore the shitty one.
2: looong post.
3: Constructive hmhmh no criticism to Erem*ka. Now let’s start.
No one ever asked me why I think Levi is the right man for Mikasa (and viceversa); when I interact with non rivamikas, they are too busy hating on me and my ship to show a bit of respect and interest towards my opinions and thoughts. I wrote this post because I think that this question needs to be answered, especially after 139. These are six reasons why I think that Levi deserves to be Mikasa’s man.
(I’m doing Levi version first because Mikasa is the one who’s in a toxic “relationship” with a possessive “man”)
i) He helped her with her development.
Since Season 1, Levi has always helped Mikasa to grow as a person. In fact, Levi was the first one who made her realize that her actions have consequences that sometimes are not very pleasant. She understood that, even if Eren is in danger, the other people around her exist and they might get hurt because of her reckless behaviors. Talking about Eren, only with Levi, Mikasa stopped being Eren’s obsessive mother and became an independent woman, which is exactly the opposite of what she’s now with her “love” Eren. I think that Levi will help Mikasa to move on from Eren once he will return to Paradise, and I also think that she will find someone to love. I remember Armin’s words in 139:
The fact that three years have passed and Mikasa is still single makes me realize that probably this “someone” is a man from her group of friends. They left her alone for three years (clap clap 👏 good job, you too Levi 😒), and she hasn’t fallen in love during those years, so maybe once they will return to Paradise she will meet again this “someone” and they will finally fall in love. Now, we have three candidates for this role:
Jean
Levi
Connie yes im serious
I know that Jean had a crush on Mikasa but, I think that he doesn’t love her anymore. To me, Jean realized that his feelings were not returned so He decided to give up on her, if he had feelings for her, he would have followed her to Paradise, don’t you think? And I think that Jean deserves more; I believe that you shouldn’t wait your crush for years, if you both fall in love then fine but if one of the two as a crush on the other for more than 5 years but the other doesn’t return his/her feelings then the other should say bye 👋🏻
Then we have Levi, and Connie yes I’m serious. I have already said why I think that Levi will help Mika to move on so I repeat myself. And I ship Conkasa 🙃🙂 nahhh im joking but they are cute.
ii) He respects her.
It was confirmed various times trough the story that Levi respects Mikasa, and viceversa. Respect is one of the “rudiments” of a relationship. Yesterday, I was reading this article online about why respect is important in a relationship, and the first point got me in a particular way:
“1. Respect sees through the good and learns to accept the bad. When you are in love with someone, all you see are their best qualities, both inside and out. At the same time, you set aside their flaws and weaknesses, to tolerate these as much as you can. Respect doesn’t work that way.
When you have respect for the person you chose to be in a relationship with, you come to accept the person’s beauty and flaws, the bitter and sweet, and good and the bad. And from the acceptance, you both learn to adjust to each other’s systems and come up with a compromise that you can live with. Toppled with love, respect serves as the fuel to keep any relationship moving”
The last part reminds me of Rivamika; Levi and Mikasa both know that the other has his own beauty and flaws, and they accept each other that way. They don’t set those flaws aside to tolerate each other more, they just accept them and they love each other the way they are. With Eren instead, Mikasa has always set aside his flaws because she didn’t want to see them and she always misinterpreted his actions. I want to see an independent woman and not a girl who doesn’t want to accept that her crush is not perfect. Mikasa has to understand that it’s okay if she says “fuck you” for once. Wake up girl.
iii) He cares for her.
Levi has always cared for Mikasa since Season 1, even if I think that in the beginning, he cared for her just as a simple soldier since they didn’t know each other that much. After their first meeting, things changed on Levi’s side and on Mikasa’s as well; she learned to respect him, and Levi started to understand that gloomy brat, to the point that she became special to him; indeed, the way Levi treats Mikasa is very different from the way he treats everyone else, even the other women (Petra, Hisu, Hanji, Sasha) Please my Mika wake up. It’s sad that many think it’s just simple affection because “oh they are cousins he loves her just like a sister bla bla bla”. Sorry to tell you but I don’t have that much tension with my brother 😏😏 and some blind people still say that he hates when he:
Broke his ankle to save her
Always reminds her to calm down and to not be reckless because she can hurt the others but also herself
Always looks at her from afar to check if she’s okay
Literally cried when she was having one of her headaches (138)
Blind people 😏
iiii) He understands her.
Levi understands Mikasa’s feelings; they are very similar, and Mikasa found herself in situations Levi had already lived, from loosing her friends and family to the awakening of their power. And that’s also why Levi plays a big part in her development; remember in Season 1 when Annie kidnapped Eren and Mikasa lost her mind? Okay so when Levi saw her like that, he reminded of his younger self’s reaction to Isabel and Farlan’s death, and that’s why he acted in a soft way towards her; he already knew that in that situation, she wouldn’t have even looked at him if he didn’t act in a soft way. He knew she was lost so he took control of the situation.
Screenshot from: chapter 30.
iiiii) He’s a real man.
In my personal vocabulary, 139 Eren doesn’t fit the definition of man. Someone that treats a woman like that doesn’t deserve to be called “man” (same with women obviously). To me, a man is someone that’s able to respect his lover, that doesn’t treat her like an object and that thinks about her happiness first (that’s literally what love means lmao) (and more). Saying “I want her to be happy” is not enough when he wrapped the scarf around her again, knowing that she was suffering and she was not able to set herself free. If Eren really loved her, he wouldn’t wrapped the scarf around her again. Levi instead fits my definition of “man”, I’d say perfectly. He has always respected her, and he wants the best for Mikasa. He showed to love her, at least platonically, numerous times, he showed care about her physical and mental well-being. I think that Levi could make Mikasa feel loved, what her “lover” Eren has never done since he always treated her badly. Mikasa doesn’t know much about relationships, and Levi too, but with Levi she would understand what a real relationship looks like. And personally, I don’t want Mikasa to end up with someone like 139 Eren.
iiiiii) He his her ideal type and they share the same life goals.
Two months ago, I wrote this post named “How much are Mikasa and Levi compatible?”. There I listed all the reasons why I believe that Levi and Mikasa are each other’s ideal type. I’m not going to repeat myself, so if you want to read it, click here. Anyway, they share the same life goals, that are: a peaceful life in the middle of nature and a family since they both have a soft spot on children.
What do you think? Do you have other reasons why you think that Levi is perfect for Mikasa? I hope you liked this post and feel free to share your opinions!
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It’s heaven in your arms
Well, this is just a clusterfuck of emotions. Let me lead you down the path of grief and mourning only for it to end with a bed sharing trope.
I have no idea if there are even people that like the original trio together romantically, but I was really vibing, so hopefully I can convince some of my regular readers to take the plunge.
If any of my ZoNami readers are here, I’m doing the requests you all sent in – I swear!
I’m not sure what to expect from posting this, so I’ll say this once pre-emptively: if this isn’t your cup of tea, you know where the door is, please leave quietly.
Summary: It may have been two years since Ace’s death but, for Luffy, sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Or, sometimes, something beautiful can blossom from a place of hurt. Rating: T
You can also find this on AO3 and FFN.
Nami awoke, eyes burning from lack of sleep and mouth dry. It was still dark outside, and she grumbled to herself at waking up so early, but it was no use. She wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until she had a glass of water. She swung her feet off the bed, clumsily trying to find her slippers before getting up. It was warm outside, so she didn’t bother with anything other than her pyjama top and shorts.
As annoying as it was to be awake so early, it was peaceful. It was a quick shuffle across the deck and into the kitchen, where she filled her glass hastily, already thinking about getting back into bed.
That last thing she expected when leaving the kitchen was the sight of Luffy sitting on the railing, facing the ocean with his feet kicking over the edge. Reckless as always it seemed.
“If you fell, no one would be around to save you,” She lectured.
His shoulders hunched; she’d surprised him it seemed, but he didn’t react as she’d expected. There was no carefree laughter or beaming grin as he told her not to be a worry wart. Instead, she received a muffled, “You’re up.”
Without looking at his face she didn’t know how to take that but his whole attitude was off, and it had alarm bells going off in her head. The comfort of her bed a distant memory now as she walked over to the railing to join him and settled her glass of water beside herself.
The words on the tip of her tongue vanished into the night air when she finally caught sight of his face. His eyes were red and puffy, his face pale despite his constant tan and drawn. It was an expression she’d never seen on his face. He looked defeated.
He looked tired.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head, just as she’d expected him too and uttered out a quiet, “No.”
“That’s okay, but I’m going to sit here,” she told him. He could sit in silence if that was what he wanted, but she wouldn’t leave him, that wasn’t an option.
She took his hand in hers because whilst he may not want to speak, he’d always been a tactile person and she couldn’t just sit here and not do anything when there were tears still running down his face.
They sat in silence, only the sound of the waves hitting the ship could be heard with their thighs pressed snuggly against the others and his hand clasped in hers, a thumb absently roaming over the skin of his wrist. His tears had resided for the time being, only the stray one falling every now.
She felt like she was sitting with a deer, trying not to spook it because it felt like any wrong move would have him scampering away.
Well, that was until he pried his hand from hers and she was going to say something until his head feel heavily against her shoulder and an arm wrapped around her body. That was all she needed to let herself relax, no longer worried about scaring him away as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.
It was another long moment of them sitting like that until he whispered in her shoulder, “It hurts.”
“What hurts?”
He was silent but the tears were back as she felt them soaking into her pyjama top.
“I had a bad dream.”
“Yeah? What about?” She encouraged softly.
“About him.” His voice cracked as he said it and his shoulders shook.
There was only one him she knew of.
“It played in a loop, and I couldn’t do anything.”
Although she was being fed the information in dribs and drabs, it wasn’t hard to piece it together. She waited for him to continue but the long pause told her he wasn’t going to.
She thought about what she’d want in that moment, if their roles were reversed, what she’d want from the other person sat with her, so she settled on, “I only met him briefly, tell me more about him. What was it like growing up with him?”
He was quiet and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to respond, that maybe that wasn’t what he wanted at all.
“He hated me when we were younger,” he said wetly, fighting through tears to talk. “I caused trouble, couldn’t fight and cried a lot. He called me cry baby all the time.”
“He didn’t when we met him in Alabasta though.” She remembered how he’d looked at Luffy, eyes full of adoration and voice warm as he asked the crew to look after Luffy for him.
He huffed out a laugh at her words, such a stark contrast to his normal boisterous laugh.
He told her everything. How Ace had gone from despising him to accepting him as a brother along with his other brother, Sabo, how they’d caused trouble together and had the best times together. How he’d made Luffy’s childhood a happy one.
It made her ache. Because as he talked, selfishly she thought about her own sister. How devasted she’d be to lose her, someone that felt like her other half since before she could remember, knew her better than anyone else, who she could talk to about anything. It was hard to explain a sibling relationship to someone without one, there was a different feeling to, you felt it in your core.
Mostly, she thought about how hollow she’d feel.
It felt like an unspoken rule that siblings were for life. You knew that parents were older and that they’d pass at some point in your life, but not your sibling. It felt like they were meant to be with you for life, that you’d grow old together and have each other’s backs no matter what to the very end.
She supposed that was part of the grief.
Although she didn’t know the ins and outs, even now Luffy was edging around his dream and what’d happened back then, she knew the key details - how Ace had jumped in front of him to save him. How Ace had died before his eyes. Even if she suspected there was more to that moment than what she knew, it was traumatic enough.
Another tangled chain to unwrap from the knotted ball of necklaces that was grief.
Ultimately, she didn’t need to know what the dream was about or what’d happened back then, because the picture she had in her mind was vivid enough and she knew how he felt. Watching someone slip away before your eyes, helpless as you watched them go and wishing you’d done something different.
Her heart bled for him as he spoke, words blurring into his tears, she could feel her own eyes prickling as sadness overflowed.
Hands clumsily wiped at her face and belatedly she realised Luffy had stopped talking. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said.
Without thinking, she wiped his face in return. “It’s okay, I’m glad I get to share this with you.”
She cupped his face and she meant it as a soothing gesture, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. Watching his face crumple before her eyes was so much worse than how she’d imagined it when his face had been buried in her shoulder. He was so expressive all the time that she shouldn’t really be surprised, his lips quivered and those big eyes scrunched as he tried to hold back his tears.
“I know I still have so much, and I should focus on that…”
“But that doesn’t make that little part feel any better?”
“Yeah.”
“I know. It’s not going to either.” He nodded glumly at her words, staying silent and she suspected it was because he couldn’t form words. “You love him. That’s not going to disappear no matter what happens.”
She continued because she needed to say it, to let him know this was okay before she the moment passed, and he locked this all away to deal with another night. “You’re allowed to mourn him, you’re allowed to feel sad without feeling guilty, but when it overwhelms you, tell one of us, okay?” She paused, thinking over her words, before adding, “And even when it doesn’t overwhelm you and you just want company, come find us.”
“Okay.” He sounded choked up, more so than before.
She brought him back into a firm hug, running her hands up and down his back, letting her words sink in and giving him a chance to speak or cry more if he wanted to.
His next words told her they were done for the time being.
“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he said.
She didn’t have to ask why. She still woke up sometimes in the middle of the night, tears in her eyes as she relived all different versions of Bell-mère’s death, each worse than the last. She knew that he feared having to relive his worst nightmare over again or catching even a whisp of his brother behind closed eyelids, taunting him over the fact that that would be the only way he’d ever be able to see him again.
“I don’t either,” she lied smoothly, “We could raid the fridge-” Sanji would understand- “or I could show you a new card trick or we could go draw on Zoro’s face. He’s probably up in the crow’s nest and he sleeps like a log.”
Luffy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did but that was okay, it was an improvement on the solemn expression from before. “Usopp just bought new markers!”
They both turned at the sound of heavy footsteps and the very person they’d been planning to mess with was stood only a few steps away.
“Why do you two look guilty?” He looked suspiciously at them both.
Neither of them answered, but she saw the moment Zoro noticed Luffy’s face and took in his red, puffy eyes and worn expression. His demeanour changed instantly, he looked serious, and he didn’t say anything more as he joined them on the railing, pressing up to Luffy’s vacant side and taking his other free hand into his- he could probably feel that it was wet from Luffy’s tears.
The ocean lapped silently against the ship and whatever plans her and Luffy had made seemed to be put on hold as he stayed sat on the railing, but that was fine with her, she was happy to sit there with him in silent support.
“It should’ve been me,” Luffy finally spoke, voice sure but only a whisper.
Those were heavy words, she imagined how often that thought circled around in his head and how hard it must have been to finally say it out loud.
“That’s stupid,” Zoro said.
“Zoro,” she hissed. For his blunt words and because Luffy looked on the verge of tears, it made her heart crumble all over again.
“Ace loved you a lot and he didn’t do it for you to think that; he wouldn’t want that. It was his choice and he made it and he’d do it a hundred times over.”
He made a good point, she knew that, but a tough love speech felt too soon.
“Zoro’s not stupid all the time,” Luffy defended weakly, smile wobbly.
Maybe not.
“Oi.”
Nami shook her head, smiling slightly at their antics. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you. Shall we agree it’s a 10% smart and 90% stupid?”
Zoro tried to look miffed, although it was betrayed by the smirk tugging at his lips. He knew what she was doing, trying to lighten Luffy’s spirits, so he let it slide.
“Well, we can’t draw on Zoro’s face now-” Zoro glowered at her- “but if you want an extra challenge, we could get Usopp or Sanji.” They were light sleepers; she knew he’d be up for the challenge.
Luffy smiled, nodding tiredly and stifled a yawn that had her and Zoro sharing a quick look between them.
“You can sleep with me if you want,” Zoro offered nonchalantly and Luffy perked up at that.
She should leave them to get on with it. They’d made their arrangements already and in the back of her mind, she knew she should, but Luffy’d told her so much, it felt callous to just palm him off. And maybe, somewhere deep down she didn’t like the thought of being left out. Maybe.
The words were out before she’d properly thought them through.
“You can both sleep in my bed.”
“Like a sleepover!” Luffy said and his eyes brightened, a shimmer of what normally resided there returning.
“It’s a one-time offer and no one tells Sanji!” Nami warned even though Luffy looked considerably lighter and Zoro was smirking at her. She didn’t doubt Zoro would store that away to use against Sanji later, but she’d deal with that then. And if he decided to blab, she’d then have the perfect opportunity to charge him, and he wouldn’t be able to say a thing.
The walk to her room was quiet, only the sounds of their shoes thumping against the deck with every step, getting louder and louder as they got closer to her room. She wondered if she’d regret this. What if she’d made it awkward? She should’ve just let Zoro and Luffy bunk together.
Opening the door felt heavy, like something awful would be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, there was just a dark, muted room to greet her and the awkwardness she felt doubled to the point she wondered if the other two felt it too. She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or not that Robin was still asleep, facing away from them.
All those thoughts were put to rest as Zoro and Luffy moved past her, seemingly more than comfortable with this arrangement than her. Zoro shucked off his boots and settled against the far side of the bed so his back faced the wall and Luffy kicked off his flip flops, his hat already sat safely on her bedside unit.
“Absolutely not,” Nami whispered fiercely, hands on hips and they both peered up at her quizzically. “I’m not sleeping on the edge only to wake up on the floor. Zoro, swap.”
“What, so I can wake up on the floor instead?”
“You can sleep anywhere!”
Luffy had snickered at their bickering, watching them go back and forth until he seemingly grew bored of that and stretched his arm out to wrap around her waist. As his arm snapped back, he dragged her with it, she collided with the both of them in her bed. Like a true rubber man, Luffy looked unbothered although she was fairly sure she’d kicked him, but Zoro wheezed behind her as she’d winded him with her elbow.
“That hurt!” Nami moaned.
“Think before you do that!” Zoro grouchily whispered.
“There we go, now we’re all cosy.” He ignored them both, nestling down into the bed as his arm reached across Nami to rest over onto Zoro.
“Luffy!” She squawked, rosy faced. “Move over! You have all that space!”
This was not what she’d had in mind when she’d invited them… into her bed. Although she didn’t have a massive bed, she’d thought they’d at least try to keep their distance, she hadn’t expected this. Luffy was so close she could feel his breath on her face and his hair brushed against her forehead, no doubt mingling in with her own strands. She could feel Zoro spooned behind her, his own arm outstretched across them both and she was only now just considering how appropriate her pyjama shorts were. Which was ridiculous, it was only those two.
All of this didn’t feel right, they were there for Luffy, he should be the one in the middle not her. He should be the one squashed between them, safe and warm and feeling supported, not her. Yet one look at his face put all of that to rest. You could still tell he’d been crying; the puffiness would take a few hours to go down, but he looked relaxed, the tormented and weight in his expression gone.
He looked content.
And that was enough right now for her brain to shut off, thoughts pushed to the back for another day, and have her burying into the warmth from the two bodies next to her with the knowledge that everything would be okay for now.
----------------------------------
This was meant to be a one-shot, but it’s now a two parter at no one’s request. I’m writing/editing the second chapter right now; it’s on its way.
I used to ship LuNami hard when I was younger, but I think I’ve lost my ability to write them romantically nowadays… unless you throw in Zoro and then it’s back on apparently.
I write and edit all my pieces by myself, so if there’s any errors, please excuse them.
Thanks for reading.
#zoluna#Luffy/Zoro/Nami#LuffyxZoroxNami#LuNami#ZoNami#zolu#opwriting#opfanfic#One Piece#Luffy#Zoro#Nami
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Mama's here
Fandom: The Owl House
Rating: Teen
Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda
Summary: Luz and Eda have a rough night after Lilith and Gwendolyn leave.
AO3
After Lilith and her mother left, things were…uneventful to say the least. Almost.
Eda was tired. Luz was tired. Everyone was tired. To put it simply, the events of that day were finally catching up.
True to her word, Eda flopped onto the couch immediately.
Luz had come back inside, noticed her, and approached cautiously. After...everything, the girl wasn’t sure if Eda wanted to talk. But Luz wanted to say something nonetheless. The guilt was practically gnawing at her chest. For the time being, she settled on sitting on the floor against the couch, next to Eda’s head.
“Eda?” Luz started. The witch turned her head to her in response, her eyes tired. It hurt all the more for Luz to look at her mentor like this. “I know you’re tired, but...can I say something?”
“Hm?” Eda hummed in response. Luz took this as a signal to continue.
“I’m sorry. About everything tonight.” Luz said.
“Kid, it's fine.”
“No, it's not. I shouldn't have gotten involved. I only wanted to help you, but- I think I made things worse by listening to your mom.” Luz explained. Eda was looking at her. That meant that she was at least listening. “I thought that if I helped her cure you, the rift between you and her would be mended.” Luz almost mentioned that it felt like fixing the rift between her and her own mother, but holds her tongue. This isn’t about her.
Eda sits up in her spot on the couch, facing Luz. “Luz, it’s- it’s okay.”
But Luz continued, needing to get this across to her mentor. “But I’m the one who set up the apple blood signs. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have fallen into Gwen’s traps, which almost got you killed! I swear, I tried to stop her, Eda. I had no idea she would do all that stuff! Heck, I-I had an elixir ready for you- I was ready to bail! But...it was the last second. You turned into the beast again, and it’s my fault.” She finished with a sigh. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve trusted your judgement. You have every right to be mad at me.”
Eda glanced to the side, choosing her words carefully. It was clear that what happened weighed heavily on the kid, as would anything else. Luz, the selfless soul she was, was only trying to help her.
“Luz, I'm not mad. It’s okay. I get it.” The witch says, touching Luz’s shoulder. “You had no idea my mom would hide the elixirs. You didn’t know she would get that extreme. If anything, I should’ve told you more about her sooner. I could already tell her ‘cures’ were bullshit anyway after a few years. It’s not on you.”
Luz looked at her with unsure eyes. “But I still played a part in what happened. You turned into the owl beast because I was too desperate to know a way back to the human realm. And...now I know that Gwen fell for a stupid scam because she was desperate to help her daughter.” Memories come back to Luz of people in the human world just like Gwen, except they were less willing to change when presented with facts.
Eda squeezed the girl’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Hey. Did you forget what happened tonight? Mom finally got it into her head that I don’t want a cure. She’s willing to give the elixirs a chance, and-” The witch’s smile faltered and she looked down as she remembered. “She’s going to make things right with Lily. I-I know it.”
Seeing the sadness in Eda’s eyes, Luz takes her mentor’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry about Lilith too, Eda. I can’t imagine how much it hurt for her to leave. She’s your sister, and she was only here for a few weeks.” Luz knows Eda and her sister were close, and despite everything that happened between them all, Luz has to admit she is starting to miss her too.
“And now she’s gone.” Added Eda, who squeezed the girl’s hand.
“Don't worry, I'm sure she misses you too. And King and I are still here for you, Eda.” Luz reminds her. “Remember?”
Eda smiles again. Why did the kid have to be so good? “I know, kid.” she wants to make sure to remember that and also return the favor moving forward. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being so sweet.” Eda says fondly with a yawn. She places a hand on Luz’s head, stroking her hair gently. “Honestly, what did I do to deserve you...?”
A light blush spread over Luz’s cheeks as she leaned into the touch. “Dunno, just got lucky I guess…”
About a minute passed before Luz was close to dozing off on her mentor’s lap. Seeing this, Eda finally decided it was time to settle in for the night. Titan knows both of them need it.
“Well-” Eda clicked her tongue, gently shaking the kid’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we both get to bed, dontcha think?”
Luz slowly stood up from her spot on the floor, rubbing her eyes. “You’re right…” she yawned.
Eda stood up as well, stretching out her back. Remind me to not fall asleep sitting up again.
“Sooo, if you need me, Luz, I’ll be in my nest-”
Suddenly, Luz had grabbed Eda’s arm. “A-Actually, umm…” The girl tried to choose the right words, because she didn’t know if she could sleep alone tonight, not after today. She couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Can...may I sleep with you in the nest tonight? I don’t wanna be alone.” Luz asks sheepishly, closing her eyes, not wanting to see Eda’s reaction. To her surprise, Eda has a small smile on her face.
“‘Course you can, kiddo.” Eda says, patting the kid’s shoulder in reassurance. She almost asks why, but a part of her feels that she already knows the answer, and that the kid would rather not say. Besides, the witch could use some company other than King tonight.
The girl sighs in relief, her body relaxing. “Thanks Eda.”
“Aight then, you go change, and uh, I’ll be up in my room.”
And if Eda noticed how Luz held her hand as they both went upstairs, she didn’t say.
~
By the time Luz had changed in her room, Eda was already lying down in her nest, still in her dress since she was too tired to get into her own pajamas. She was on the verge of falling asleep, until Luz had appeared in the doorway in her pajamas holding a large pillow and her sleeping bag. She looked unsure of herself until Eda sat up and nodded her head, gesturing for Luz to come in.
The kid eagerly walked over to the nest, already trying to scramble inside, albeit very clumsily. Eda snorted at the adorableness of it all, but reached out.
“Hey hey, slow down there, kid. Let me help you with that.” Eda tried, keeping her voice soft so she doesn't wake King.
Luz shook her head. “Nooo, I'm fine. I can do it. The walls of the nest aren't that high…” Her words were slurred. She obviously was already getting tired, the grip on her stuff weakening. But the witch wouldn't give up.
“Luz, really. You're tired and you're carrying a huge pillow plus a sleeping bag. You could easily trip.” Eda insisted, reaching a hand out. “And trust me, you don't wanna pass out on the floor.”
“I'm fiiiine.” Luz yawned.
The witch rolled her eyes at the stubbornness and took the pillow, placing it in the nest along with the sleeping bag, surprising Luz, but she didn't protest.
Said human girl was about to climb in when two bony hands grabbed her arms and yanked her up and inside with a surprised ‘oh!’
“C’mon kiddo, get in here.” Eda said, releasing her and allowing the kid to get comfortable while adjusting her position herself. Now they were both laying on their sides, facing each other.
“Hey…” Luz yawned again.
“Hey.” Eda whispered tiredly. Next to her, Luz was all tucked inside her sleeping bag, one hand hesitantly sticking out, as if reaching out to her. Eda didn’t know why, but she stuck her hand out, close enough to Luz’s.
The events of the day were, to say the least, exhausting. From Gwendolyn visiting, to the old woman making things worse, to Lilith getting more and more stressed by her presence leading to the curse affecting her, to both sisters transforming, to Lilith leaving after weeks of living there.
But as usual, it all worked out okay in the end.
“Well...sleep well, Eda.” Luz murmured, and within a minute, she was asleep.
“You too, kiddo.”
~
“AH!”
Eda bolted up in her nest, shaking and breathing heavily. She looked around frantically, making sure she was truly safe.
So it was one of those nights tonight.
Eda had that dream again. The one where things had gone...differently during the bridge duel. The witch suppressed a sob and hid her face in her hands as the horrible images replayed in her head.
Luz was thrown over the side of the bridge, like usual, except...Eda couldn’t catch her. Luz had, to her mentor’s horror, been impaled by the spikes, screaming out in pain as she bled out while Eda was helpless to watch the poor girl die while she herself had succumbed to the curse.
There was nothing she could do.
The witch took some deep breaths, trying to remind herself that it wasn’t real, that her kid - Luz was fine, she was safe, they were all safe and -
Next to her, Eda heard the sounds of rustling of fabric and soft crying. It was Luz. And she was tangled up inside her sleeping bag, tossing and turning. Her face was scrunched up in discomfort, and she seemed to be fighting something only she could see.
“Luz?” Eda called out softly, taking Luz’s shoulder and shaking it. The writhing girl had tears coming down her cheeks, and started kicking out. “Luz?!” she said, alarm creeping into her voice. “Hey, wake u-”
Suddenly, Luz stirred awake, eyes wide with fear. She tried to sit up, but was trapped by her zipped up sleep cocoon, making her begin to panic and breathe heavily. The girl didn’t know what was going on, but whatever was binding her down, she wanted out.
The sight of it made Eda’s heart crack. So she quickly unzipped the damn thing, freeing the panicking kid. She helped Luz into a comfortable sitting position, curling an arm around her shaking body.
“Luz, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You're safe. I’m here,” Eda says, pulling Luz close as the girl snuggled closer in return, burying her face in her chest. “Easy there.”
“I-” Luz choked out as she clung tight to the back of the witch’s dress. “I-I can’t- Mamí -”
Eda held her tighter and tried to ignore the feeling that came with what Luz just said. “Shh, shhh, mama’s here, you’re safe, kid,” She repeated, combing a hand through the girl’s hair over and over. “Jus-just breathe, okay? I got you.” She could feel her own throat tightening, and the tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. Whether she was comforting herself or Luz, she didn’t know. Luz needed her.
“I got you…”
As Eda cradled and rocked Luz in her arms, she felt the way her human shook with sobs, and it broke her heart. She knew what it was like to wake up scared and alone, and she;ll be damned if her kid went through the same. All she could do was hold Luz close and tight like her own child and try to help her.
At the same time, Eda was just glad Luz was alive. She wouldn’t forgive herself if anything had happened to her. The child -- her child at this point --, although scared and crying, was enough to reassure her that she was safe. That they were both safe.
Shit, kid, I wish I knew how to make this all go away.
“Eda…?” A small, scratchy voice squeaked.
Eda looks down at the girl, pulling away only a little bit, keeping her arms wrapped protectively around her. “Hey, kiddo.” she says softly. Luz looks back up at her with tired, glossy eyes. “You okay?” She asks, even though it is a stupid question. Of course she isn’t okay.
“Mmh.” Luz responds. “I don’t know…”
“That’s okay,” Eda says, adjusting Luz so that her head is resting on the witch’s shoulder.
A small smile forms on Luz’s face. “You’re alive.”
Eda nods. “That’s right.” So are you.
“I’m glad…” Luz murmurs. Then her eyes widen. “The dream - it was the bridge again, I-I was on the…a-and you were…” She squeezes her eyes shut and burrows close to the witch, going in for another hug. “I’m sorry.”
Eda’s breath hitches and she returns the embrace easily, because for Titan's sake, she needs one too.
“Oh, Luz, it’s okay…” Eda rests her cheek on top of Luz’s head, holding her tight once more as she tries to hold back tears. “I'm here.”
“I know it’s just a dream, but I was so scared. It could've been real.”
“I know, but it's over. We’re all okay, thanks to you.” Eda reassures, continuing to stroke her hair.
“Thank you…” Luz clings tighter. “'m sorry for waking you up.”
Eda pulls back to look her in the eyes. “Don't apologize, Luz. In fact…I had the same nightmare.”
“Really?” Luz gasps softly.
Eda nods. “Mm-hm. When I woke up, I really thought you were…” she stops there, not needing to elaborate further. “But I know you're still alive and well.”
Because I really don't know what I’d do if I lost you.
The witch cups Luz’s cheek, and Luz leans into the touch.
“I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.” Luz says, resting her head on the witch’s chest.
“You won't, you won't. I’m not going anywhere.” Eda promises.
After a while, Eda looked down to see Luz starting to drift off.
“You ready to try to go back to sleep, kiddo?” She asks. But Luz opens her eyes and shakes her head.
“I dunno, Eda…”
Eda grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Luz, draping the top part over her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here, and I won’t let ‘em get to you. Okay?”
As Luz was laid down in the nest, a warm feeling sprouted in her chest. The way Eda’s been treating her lately has been soft, kind, and… god, Eda was just being so good to her.
And it reminded her of her mother.
She didn’t know how to feel about that. But it was nice.
“You’re a lot like her, Eda.” Luz says to the witch.
“Who?”
“My mom. You take care of me...”
Eda looks away at that, not sure of what to say. She still wasn’t used to the idea of being a mother, especially after the fiasco that was her own mom’s visit, and yet taking care of Luz and King came naturally to her. She won’t admit it, but she likes the warm, fuzzy feeling it gives her.
“Well, I’m glad I get to take care of you,” She says simply. And it’s true.
Eda settles down next to Luz. “Now, let’s get some shut-eye, yeah?” She says, kissing Luz’s forehead.
Luz snuggles closer to Eda tucking her head under her chin, letting the older witch wrap an arm around her swaddled body.
“Good night, mamá…” Luz mutters.
The last thing she remembers before drifting off was a warm feeling of safety.
#the owl house#toh#toh spoilers#owl house#the owl house spoilers#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#edalyn clawthorne#eda the owl lady#eda the owl mom#mom Eda#toh fanfiction#the owl house fanfiction#writing#my writing#lilith clawthorne#gwendolyn clawthorne
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Thoughts on ACOSF
⚠️ SPOILERY, SO DON’T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK ⚠️
⚔️ the good and the bad, I’ll try to get rid of the bad thoughts first and keep the positive ones for the end but idk where my line of thought would go as I recall and type so here we go
• Nesta’s journey of healing is hers and hers alone. She owes no one in the inner circle anything, they didn’t do her any favors. (Now before I delve into this, I just want to say that I see they (Feyre and Elain only) had good intentions, but I’m going to point out everywhere it went wrong, probably against what they planned, but still it went horribly wrong) She was still suffering all the same after she got her free will stripped from her, the decision made for her by packing her things without informing her or listening to her opinion or trying to have a more lenient approach to the matter, being threatened that her second option is being thrown to the human lands where she could die, being lied to about the consequences of her actions in law, being told she “belongs in the Hewn City”, being told she’s “a pathetic waste of life”, and choosing the place everyone admits they hate going to aka the House of Wind, as her destination to heal. Knowing full well she can’t make the descent down these stairs and would be imprisoned without the power to winnow. And instead of being given her space and time, they push her to talk and interact when all she’s trying to do is have some distance from everyone. Some time to herself, to not feel anything, to control the storm of thoughts raging on the inside. And she’s pushed time and time again to face her trauma and heal RIGHT NOW because apparently, they’re timing her. And she shouldn’t have her emotions on display, when she tells them she doesn’t feel like talking yet she’s forced to interact and socialize. Anyone who’s been forced to interact against their will knows how draining it is. Now imagine this coupled with being triggered by water, and being triggered by fire, which are a daily necessity. And imagine everyone got a decade or more to deal with their trauma and are still not entirely healed, yet your time is up after little over a year. It sucks. And I hate how what triggered them to action wasn’t that she was wasting away to nothing, but the bill. When the bill was high, they drew the line. And I hate how in the narrative, the “conversation” -even though I wouldn’t call it that because only one side was allowed to talk and the other side wasn’t allowed to object- was written in a way that made it about THEIR image, when she’s frequenting taverns. THEIR image, when she doesn’t show up to their parties. THEIR image when the bill for her drinking is high. (They say it’s too much money, as if they don’t have all the riches and they all spend money on things that are absolutely not necessary, and THEY drowned her with gifts, LOADS of gifts, after she sacrificed her power to save her sister, which she didn’t do for payment, but anyway the thought is, they had the money and just like they thought Amren deserves payment for what she did in the war, they should’ve kept the same energy for Nesta because she had no small role in that either). I just think they handled it badly. Not exactly how you’d talk to someone suffering from PTSD, depression and survivor’s guilt. For one, threatening a worse alternative isn’t helpful. Secondly, There were way too many people in that room. More than necessary. Feyre and Elain would’ve been enough AS HER FAMILY (and I’ll get to details on this in a moment). And Feyre was the only decent one handling it as someone who actually was looking for a better outcome and really had the intention to help, someone who wasn’t there just to humiliate. Amren and Rhys were only there to land jabs and poke at her insecurities and bad coping mechanisms. Rhys used his power on her to force her to obey him and we all know how it’s a big NO among them. Many of those in the IC had worse coping mechanisms. But what she was doing was too much for them to handle? She was self-destructing. And she kept her distance. If I told someone I needed my space and they kept poking their head in my business, I sure as hell would lash out. When someone needs space, their privacy should be respected. No matter how long it takes them.
And I don’t see where the problem with her drinking was. She never showed up to events drunk. We never saw her hungover the day after. She was spending some money on drinking yes, but it did not get out of hand. She was also spending money on food and gambling. All in all, not the worst coping mechanism among those who were criticizing her. Not to mention that everyone who criticized her were drinkers as well, and they all slept around during some part of their lives.
Now the problem with the presence of other people in that room, other than Feyre (if Elain didn’t wish to attend and preferred to have some space between her and and Nesta, it’s her choice) anyway, only Feyre’s presence was required. Everyone else there was just an accessory, only adding stress to the atmosphere, forcing Nesta to get on the defensive with the way they slut shamed her, shamed her for drinking, shamed her for not being able to take a bath even though she told Feyre how the water still scares her, etc. I can see Sarah wanted it to look like a “family” intervening. Like some tough love sort of thing. But she failed. Simply because, the IC might be Feyre’s found family and she might take such a talk from them because it would really be tough love. As for Nesta, she doesn’t view them as family. She barely knows them. So for a group of strangers, or let’s say newly acquainted people, to sit around her and point out her every flaw and shame her for every misstep, who wouldn’t lash out at that? It’s enough she’s forced to spend time among them, on holidays she doesn’t really believe in, where they force her to attend but actively ignore her presence and treat her like a ghost. Why make her come if they don’t enjoy her company? It’s just ridiculous. Then when she gets angry from all the pushing and lashes out and it’s entirely her fault. they’re all like “come to our gatherings where we will insult you, nitpick all your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but don’t be offended and seclude yourself, we all took decades to deal with our trauma and killed people while doing it but your coping mechanisms are unhealthy. And your actions are unforgivable because you lash out at us when we shove ourselves down your throat. How can you not like us? Everyone has to like us.” Then she gets thrown away to a war camp, a FUCKING WAR CAMP, while a big part of her trauma is because of war. And instead of dealing with her face-to-face, while being gentle and showing her they’re on her side WITHOUT JUDGEMENT, WITHOUT WINCING AND GLANCES AT EACH OTHER AND INNER CONVERSATIONS ABOUT HER WHERE SHE’S EXCLUDED, they’re like “we’re tired of your shit so here’s a house you can stay in while you sort this out away from our merry little circle, which has its nose up your business anyway. But still, sort it out away from us.” And in that house she became more and more closed off and her healing - and I will die on this hill - her healing DID NOT start until the house came into play which was her own doing. And it kicked off because of Emerie and Gwyn, who both didn’t judge her, didn’t demonize her, didn’t only see the bad in her, but accepted her as she was and loved every part of her. Showed her that she was not a waste of life and there are things to live for. As for the beloved inner circle? Beyond insulting her and her coping mechanisms, They don’t tell her about the weapons SHE made, because pro-colonization Amren doesn’t think it’s wise, that Nesta would use it against the world. (Amren do you hear how stupid you sound?) they always villianize her, assuming she’d be out to take the world and take revenge on everyone who ever glanced her way. They assumed she was bad, they assumed because she was angry, that she would use her power for killing and terrorizing and building an Empire like they all do. When all she wanted to do was listen to music and be around good company who passed her no judgement.
Anyway, getting into some details with each character:
Feyre: I hated Feyre’s “crying over scrambled eggs because my image is destroyed my sister spent so much money on drinking”. And the fact that when telling Nesta she was doing this for her own good, she told her she was embarrassed for her own image in the same breath. But beyond that I was fine with her. I loved her reconcilation with Nesta. I loved that she was one who wanted to give Nesta more time, recognized that she needed her own time. I love them together. I think without everyone’s interference, their reconcilation would’ve happened much faster. They were already making progress before ~some people~ ruined everything and caused Nesta to be closed off again. I don’t hate that Nesta sacrificed her power to save Feyre in the end. She’s her sister and she loves her and this is not the first time she proved this. She would do anything to protect her sisters and she hates herself for the times she misstepped. Even though it wasn’t her fault and there was a full grown man sitting there who conveniently got a redemption arc. What angers me though, is that it was only after this, that the inner circle viewed her as someone who is worth their respect. And made the sacrifice materialistic by drowning Nesta with gifts. She didn’t do it for their acceptance or for their love, or for payment. She did it because her sister needed help. Period. (Sidenote: I’m writing a post where I delve deep into their relationship, which I will eventually post, because I think I reached an understanding about their relationship)
Elain: let me get something out of the way, she has power. She has free will, she’s not a baby. She’s a grown woman who doesn’t need coddling. I hate how the fandom views her as a baby. And she’s constantly infantilized, preventing her from reaching her full potential. Now that that’s out of the way, here are my 2 cents on her, since she wasn’t in this book much: Nesta’s wording was very clear, yet I’ve seen this scene misread all over the timeline. Nesta said “I sat by your side for weeks. Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you’d just wither and die. No one suggested you either shape up or be shipped back to the human lands.” Nesta’s problem is NOT that Elain wasn’t “there” as in “by her side”. She explicitly stated she needed space. Nesta’s problem was that she stood between Elain and anyone who might tell her to snap out of it and lock her trauma in some dark room in the back of her head. She made sure Elain had her time. While Elain agreed to pack her bags and didn’t prevent them from shipping her away, deciding her time was up. All she wants is time, and Elain didn’t have her back on this. Then we have the fact that Elain slut-shamed Nesta. And then when Nesta comes to the party this time, Elain meets her at the door and her reaction instead of saying hi and leaving it at that or simply ignoring her, is “did Feyre pay you this time?” I’m torn on where to stand on the Elain-Nesta situation, a part of me is disappointed in Elain. I think she should’ve handled this better than anyone else because she was there, she witnessed the trauma happen, Nesta was there for her, they grew up being inseparable the entire time. If anyone should understand her better than anyone else, it’s Elain. So why did she abandon her to everyone’s judgement? And a part of me is like maybe she knew whatever she voted wouldn’t matter because the IC were taking the step anyway, and didn’t want to be there when it happened. Or maybe she’s still dealing with her own trauma in her own way and doesn’t want a confrontation. But I always circle back to the sl*t-shaming and the shaming about the drinking, and then I think about the Solstice scene where as soon as she saw her she was like “did Feyre pay you this time?” And a part of me is angry about the shaming undertone of that too, while some part of me thinks that maybe Elain felt unwanted along with everyone else and that in order for Nesta to meet them, she has to be paid, but we will never know unless we hear it from her.
Rhysand: that piece of shit, misogynist, who used his powers to compel Nesta to obey his orders, pulled rank on her, taunted and threatened her every step of the way and utilized her for his own agenda, and was *surprised* to learn the woman has trauma. Took him being inside her head and unable to wake her up from the nightmare, because the behavior she was exhibiting wasn’t enough. [insert shocked pickatchu meme]. I also would like to add that him playing the protective love interest from his mate’s own sister, WHO COULD’VE HARMED HER IF SHE WANTED TO, but never wanted to because she’s not a bad person, is so cheap. Like- you, the guy who drugged her and made her give you lap dances, are afraid for her sake… from her sister? Who only ever used words as jabs and is generally rude? Or do you feel like you’re overpowered and are trying to fill the void in your toxic masculinity and reassert dominance ?
Cassian: He was patient with her, and probably the healthiest person in the inner circle who dealt with her until she was okay, but he still silently agreed with all the shit that was said about her. Shit she didn’t deserve to be said about her as someone going through trauma. He mocked whatever progress she made on the stairs calling it pathetic in the beginning. He stayed silent when Nesta was stripped of her will, when she was told she belongs in the Court of Nightmares, when her fate was decided for her, when she was being lied to, when she was threatened to be thrown to the humans who would kill her. He made some progress and understood her better with time, but it doesn’t excuse how he stayed silent when she was being mistreated. Specially since he claims her loves her. He also stayed silent as the Inner Circle despised her presence but still used her to reach what they’re plotting for. He progressed, and he got better, I’ll give him that. But still, as someone who claims he loves her the way he does, he shouldn’t have allowed his friends to manipulate and use her in their schemes but then exclude her from everything else, even knowledge about her own power. But I love that he was patient, that he worked to understand her, that he grew to stand up for her. I would argue that they are the healthiest ship written by SJM this far.
Mor: fucking Mor, who experienced trauma, told Nesta she belongs in the court of Nightmares. Where she was abused herself. Knowing women are viewed as objects there, knowing Nesta would recieve abuse there. She said that, wishing abuse on someone who she simply didn’t like and had some quarrels with. They never saw eye to eye and that’s fine. They always had sharp tongues when talking to each other and that’s fine. What’s not fine though, is that THIS of all things, seemed so out of character for Mor. Now, she never knew Nesta was a survivor of SA. But as someone who helps SA victims, she’s the last person I expected such a comment from. It felt very out of character. I hate that this is the Bi character in all of this mess. Of all people, a hypocrite is the Bi person. The LGBTQ community deserves better. I thought about it, and maybe Mor, being like a stranger to Nesta, and seeing her ignore Cassian in front of the Illyrians who already look down on him, made her angry to the point where she just wanted to land a jab and didn’t think her words would mean anything. Maybe all she wanted to do was stand up for Cassian, but what she said was definitely not true and not okay. I wanted her and Nesta to have a talk about it, but also she grew to have decent conversations with her and she helped her when she and Cassian had that fight. So I don’t know, maybe it’s a silent progress between them.
Amren: this one told her she was a waste of life. What a great way to deal with someone who’s suffering from PTSD and depression and having suicidal thoughts, Amren. Tell them they’re a waste of life, enforce every thought they are having as fact, push them to the point where they doubt they should be breathing, and when they’re told they could tumble down a mountain and break their bones while hiking, their first thought would be “good”. Amren deserves a medal, a badge of honor for being the 500+ old woman who has healthy ways of dealing with traumatized people telling them they don’t deserve to live because the thoughts of their power and dealing with controlling that power right now is so overwhelming. Amren, who decided that because Nesta was always angry, she had no right to know that she used her power unknowingly and forged powerful weapons. Amren, who was pushing for colonization throughout this book, was afraid of Nesta misusing her power. Villainizing Nesta’s every thought, as if Nesta wasn’t overwhelmed from the thought of possessing so much power, as if Nesta doesn’t refuse to use her powers and train. As if Nesta is out there hiding as she masters her power to reemerge and turn the world upside down. You’re the one who’s pushing Rhys to colonize other territories and become high king, Amren. Maybe *you* should be locked up in the house of wind for therapy. What hurts most in this is Amren was her friend. She trusted Amren. Amren said that shitty line to her and then lied to her and manipulated her and used her to further Rhys’s agenda. She flopped from telling Feyre that Nesta is immortal and a few years are nothing, and she should be given time. She would not betray her trust, to whatever she turned into in ACOSF. And everyone give SJM a round of pats on the back and an applause for making Amren the wise one here and making Nesta, the traumatized one who was wronged, get on her knees and apologize. I mean- if you thought this apology scene was necessary, then clarification about the fight between them was just as necessary. Or you include neither scene. But deeming the apology important and not the incident? This is some victim blaming on a whole other level.
The House of Wind: The house of wind was honestly one of the best parts of this book. It was Nesta, “Lady Death” as they call her, breathing life into something, and it was gentle, and it was patient, and it was understanding, and it pushed her to be healthier without judging, without throwing insults or slut-shaming. It hated that she didn’t eat? It kept waiting for her until her body gave out and she had to eat. It didn’t like her drinking? It gave her water when she asked for wine. It showed her its darkest part where she found the greatest warmth as well, as if saying don’t be ashamed of your darkness because in it you’ll find light, and it didn’t abandon her or stop responding to her when she was angry. It was actively by her side, without any judgement, only support and pushing her to fix the behaviours without dissing her. and it was everything those people around her weren’t. It was family.
Gwyn: their first meeting wasn’t at all what you would call “friendly”, to a fault by Nesta. Gwyn didn’t even know anything about Nesta, yet she didn’t react with even more anger as ~others~ did, she didn’t fear Nesta, or give a retort, or get angry and lash out at her. She took the blow and was, with all the calm in the world, like fine, you want to tell on me, go tell. And Nesta did go tell on her, then realized by herself how she acted rashly. And later helped Gwyn without being asked to, by swapping the book so Merrill doesn’t scold her. And their friendship grew to the point where Gwyn, a traumatized person who couldn’t dare leave the library, started training with her, was her friend and had conversations with her that didn’t center her trauma or her coping mechanisms being analyzed. She went out of the library for the first time in 2 years when she knew Nesta needed her by her side. She occupied her mind with stories of Valkyries, women being strong and unyielding in a society which didn’t allow it. She took her hand and gave her a purpose in life to work for. Gave her a friend who didn’t judge, a kind face in the maelstorm of judgemental faces. Until she felt like a safe space to Nesta to the point where she spilled all her thoughts, the ones she could only admit to herself, to Gwyn, letting her inside those walls. And when she braced for judgement, she didn’t receive it. Gwyn dealing with someone’s trauma, as someone who’s been through trauma herself, is one of the beautiful corners of this book
Emerie: Another woman with trauma. She sees Nesta enter her store, of course she knows who she is, yet she doesn’t judge her. Nesta asks about making the fatigues warmer, Emerie says she’ll ask, but it’s costly. Nesta says then she can’t afford it, admits that she was cut off, Emerie, as a stranger, doesn’t judge her. She says she could make them anyway and she can pay her as she can. Because no one should feel cold. It’s simple, irrelevant. Nesta wouldn’t freeze to death, she as a stranger has no obligation to help, it’s a simple reasoning. “You shouldn’t feel cold”. It’s enough for her to help Nesta. Something as mundane as feeling cold. She asks her to join her for a meal. And Nesta asks her if she would join the training, which Emerie refuses. and Nesta blurts out that she didn’t take her for a coward. And later, Nesta sends her the herbs she wishes to get which she can’t get often because of her location, and it’s a message of “you too deserve to see what’s best in the world, to go out and experience the beautiful parts and live, not just exist”. So Emerie goes to training with her as well, and they bond over romance novels. Emerie also reaches a point where she opens up about her own trauma, and tells the truth about what she faced and her survival. This girl who is 50-something at least, who has never had friends, living a lonely secluded life, finally found someone who was trustworthy enough to be around and form a bond with. As for the fact that she is a PoC, and the illyrians are portrayed as this group of savages who abuse their women and their women have no say in their lives and futures and how they clip their women’s wings, when wings, wingspan and wingplay heavily imply that wings are erogenous parts of the body and wing clipping seems to be the equivalent of Circumcision, which again so happens to be done by the “PoC savages who abuse their women”, hits a whole lot as fucking racist and xenophobic. PoC deserve a storyline where they’re not viewed as the villains.
Azriel: I loved his relationship with Nesta. He was the best chaperon™️, he never spoke in judgement toward her. There was a silent understanding between them. However, I’m not against him showing his feelings toward Elain or her toward him. It’s fine, if that’s what they both want. I don’t think Lucien is the type to call for a blood duel. He simply brings her presents and attends when invited, he doesn’t force himself on her and keeps his distance. However I did hate that Azriel took the necklace and gave it to Gwyn, as a secondhand. I know his only intention was to make her smile but the necklace wasn’t meant for her. It’s not a trial by error, he can’t just keep trying out with different women every time he fails with one. And I’ll just leave this here.
The elephant in the room: the entire IC is involved in this, them all blaming Nesta, framing her as the wrong person, when she told Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy? I don’t care if she did it while she was angry, her heart was in the right place. She got hurt from them deciding her fate without her involvement, voting on her, not once, but twice, about her fate because she wasn’t fast enough to deal with her trauma, then again when deciding if she should know about what she did with her own power and the weapons. and she showed Feyre what was really at play. Protecting her from what she faced with the Inner Circle. Just because she was angry while doing it does not mean she did it out of spite. She did it to expose them, specially Amren at that point. But I don’t get how it was twisted to “because she wanted to hurt Feyre”. She wasn’t even angry at Feyre. But you all would rather suck up to the Inner Circle than confront the fact that they’re hypocrites and liars with a propaganda. They’re evil. They fear Nesta using her power to seize control of everyone because it’s how THEY are. With all this High King crap. Basically colonization dreams. With how they press rank whenever it suits them, and lie about the law to win arguments. It’s because those who are inherently bad think everyone is bad just like them.
Other Elephants in the room which have been here a long time: the thing with blaming Nesta for not being the breadwinner… I could never get it. Some have money-earning skills, others don’t. She, at the point of her life when she was human, was only trained in dancing and appealing to men socially so she could uplift the family’s social status. She couldn’t hunt. Feyre could. And NEITHER, should’ve been the breadwinner. Nesta was willing to starve to death if it would push her father to do something. Feyre wasn’t willing to wait and starve or watch anyone starve. But it doesn’t mean Nesta was at fault. She was only 3 years older than Feyre. Let’s leave the “the oldest child has to step in for the parents when the parents fail” mentality in the past. It’s ridiculous. Nesta was under no obligation to be the breadwinner. And she suffered self-flagellation regularly for letting Feyre walk out there and hunt. But she literally had no skills that when she thought of something to do, she could only think of selling herself on the streets. The parents were abusive, both of them. Favoring one child over the other and planting rivalry between the siblings. “i love you” means nothing. NOTHING, when there is no action to prove it. And if anything, this book made me realize that Nesta was never okay. She was never in a good place mentally. I mean, I knew, but this book just proved it. Her mother favored her alright, but it was not in a loving way. She simply exploited her to climb the social ladder. She didn’t give her love, she gave her instructions. She enabled the grandmother to beat her, and instill some “harsher punishments” one of which Nesta still holds the scars for. She was called worthless, as a child. Why? Because she made a wrong step in a dance. She was physically and verbally abused, and her mother let it happen. Yet she was the only one who would give Nesta the time of day so Nesta still loved her. As a child, her mother was the only person who showed interest in her and she clung to. However twisted it was, it’s the only love she ever got. The only love she knew. Then she lost her. and later the family also lost their wealth. So all she was taught to do her entire life suddenly became meaningless because she can’t achieve what her mother “trained” her to do. And we know the rest of the story. She never felt at home, not even when her mother lived and she still had that wealth. She admitted as much. She was never fine. She might’ve appeared the part, but it was never true. And since she was so good at masking her emotions, nobody was the wiser.
side note: As for her power being the “bare minimum” now, there better not be a plothole, since Rhysand couldn’t contain merely the “surface of her power” because it was too much. and if that’s all she retained, then it’s good enough for me.
#acosf#a court of silver flames#a court of silver flames spoilers#acosf spoilers#nesta archeron#nesta acosf#feyre archeron#elain archeron#cassian#anti rhys#anti rhysand#azriel#gwyn berdara#emerie acosf#emerie of illyria#mor#the morrigan#sjm#sarah j maas#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#anti amren#nessian#pro nesta
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innocence - 35
PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader
WARNINGS: fluff
A/N: i wanted to wait until tomorrow to post this but i have no self control. as promised, here’s some fluff. hope you enjoy xx
NEXT CHAPTER
- We’re getting married. - she smiled at him, one of those sunny smiles that always made him feel like he was way too lucky to be marrying someone like her. Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, his hand caressing her the side of her waist as that sunny smile morphed into playful one. - You do have to leave this bedroom to get married though.
- But the bedroom is an important part of our marriage, princess.
- No. You shouldn’t be even seeing me on our wedding day. It’s bad luck, besides Steve, Sam and Sharon are outside. - she played with the hair in the back of his neck.
The super soldier playfully rolled his eyes at her answer. He hadn’t even had time to buy her an engagement ring or even tell anyone other than her parents and Steve, yet he guessed Sam and Sharon now knew it too, and yet the two of them were going to get married. Her family wasn’t here and it definitely wasn’t what he thought it’d be when he was younger. He’d pictured a much more traditional wedding, maybe somehow in the middle of war and he’d marry in his uniform with his family and hers surrounding them in a small little church yet, she was right. There weren’t a lot of things that were normal about them but she loved him and he loved her. That was the basis of marriage after all.
His finger traced her jaw, feeling her features under the calloused texture of his fingers, the same features he hadn’t seen in two weeks and had barely seen yesterday. He examined everything, almost if he wasn’t going to see her again, yet that was mostly his mind screaming at him about the restraining order they could order. His eyes, however landed on almost fresh bruises at her lower neck.
- Princess, what this? - his fingers slightly lingered over her bruises.
- Oh ... - her gaze moved down before it moved up. - Stunt gone wrong while filming, it’s nothing major really.
- Seems like something major, princess. It’s looks pretty bad. Did no one do anything?
- It looks just like your bruise does. - she kissed his cheekbone. - Let’s go before Steve, Sam and Sharon resort to hearing behind the door.
He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t really say anything more about it so he dropped it, for now. The two of them left the bedroom and walked into the living area where Steve, Sam and Sharon were still sat in.
- So ... - Bucky started. - How do we do this?
- A wedding? - Sharon questioned. - We get an officiant, a marriage license, and make sure no one but us know about it.
- Oh Chuck has to know about it. He’s my only friend here and I’d like him to be present.
- Okay but we can’t do it here. - Steve added. - It’s most likely under surveillance and if they even dream you two are getting married, Bucky’s going right back to prison.
- What do you suggest? - Y/N cocked her head to the side.
- Me and Buck will get rings, Sam will get the marriage certificate and the officiant and Sharon will stay here with you. We’ll all meet at the HQ in an hour.
- You’ll be okay? - Bucky mumbled over to Y/N who nodded. - I’ll see you in an hour, okay?
- I’ll be the one in white. Or at least something white.
Bucky kissed the top of her head before leaving with Steve and Sam leaving her with Sharon. Of course like most girls she had pictured the eve of her wedding, even the hours before, what it would be like, who would be by her side, where it’d be. She had to admit it was very different from what she had envisioned but it was okay. Better have an odd wedding with the right person than the best wedding with the wrong one and she knew Bucky was the one. She felt it whenever he looked at her or whenever he’d fall asleep on her shoulder after telling her he wouldn’t. Her parents were right and so were the movies, when you know you know.
She knew.
- I have to message Chuck. Maybe he can pass by my apartment and grab me something white. - she took her phone from her pocket to text Chuck.
- Something new, something blue, something old, something borrowed. Luckily for you, I have your something new.
Y/N furrowed her brows at Sharon as the blonde spy made her way inside her shared bedroom with Bucky. Y/N watching with confusion as she opened the small closet which was still a mess with packed boxes from both Bucky and Y/N which both of them kept putting off unpacking. Sharon moved some boxes and small trinkets off her way and pulled out a white big short rectangular box before putting it on top of the still yet to be made bed.
The actress approached the edge of the bed as Sharon pulled the lid off and removed some packing paper from the top of whatever was laying inside. She quickly recognised what was inside of it, somehow through her prosecco influenced mind that night she could still remember what her favourite dress looked like. Her eyes looked up to Sharon’s before looking again at the dress, taking it from the box and holding it in front off her.
- When did you get this? No ... scratch that, when did you hide it in my flat?
- Same night we got it. I’m prone to shop lifting when drunk. Besides there’s more than 5 thousand dresses in that shop, she won’t know. - Sharon shrugged, a proud smile on her lips. - You’re not gonna get married in a used white dress. You’re already not gonna have a big ceremony so you should at least have a wedding dress.
- What if I get arrested? It’s illegal.
- It’s the least illegal thing I’ve done, besides, she won’t know and we can return it in the end if it makes you feel better.
- It’s so pretty. - Y/N held the dress against her chest, almost hugging the fabric. - You’ll be my maid of honour right? I don’t have a lot of female friends here yet.
- Sure. Now, we have an hour to do preparation and hen’s night all together.
- It’ll be okay, right? With Bucky ... they won’t hurt him because of me, right?
- Don’t concern yourself with that now. It’s your day, no matter how little it is. Whatever comes after that, me, Steve, Sam will be there for you two. You’re family.
- I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. - Y/N dragged whatever tears were trying to spill out of her eyes with her knuckles. - I don’t want to be the reason he’s not free and he keeps telling me it’s fine but ... I love him so much and it broke my heart to see him handcuffed because of me when he’s been always there.
- Hey ... - Sharon patted the side of the bed next to her, waiting for Y/N to sit by her side. - No relationship is easy. I mean maybe most relationships don’t have the downsides yours has but you have something that only a small part of them have.
- A huge age gap?
- Hey, I have that too. - Sharon laughed before rolling her eyes. - Unconditional love. Trust me, it’s not easy for someone who is not in my “line of work” to understand what happened to Bucky and he isn’t one to open up easily. And you just love him and he just loves you. That’s all it matters at the end, that you love each other hard enough you will hold each other’s hands through the worse of storms. Not everyone has a hand to hold in their darkest moments and when you do, and when you know, those monsters become folklore.
- Wow, Sharon. If super heroing does not pan out for you, you should become a poet. - Y/N leaned her head against Sharon’s shoulder. - Well, if they don’t handcuff my fiance during the wedding, I don’t think it can get any worse.
- Good. Now hop onto the shower and only come up when you smell like a baked good. Exfoliate everything.
- Wait, what about something blue? I have something old ... and something new and ... somehow borrowed. What about something blue?
- You have Bucky.
- I have to be in something blue.
- Well, Bucky will be in you later tonight, I’m sure. Just get in the shower, Y/N. The clock is ticking.
Bucky looked at himself in the mirror, old army suit on and somehow still fitting even with the metal arm. To be honest, Bucky was more surprised that a more than 70 year old suit hadn’t been made into a ball of threads and dust yet there it was looking exactly as it did when he first got it. He straightened his back and the lapels of his jacket, looking up only to return to a slouched position as the light hit the metal of his arm. James Buchanan Barnes was not the same man he was 70 years ago yet he was doing the thing which was expected of him back in his day. Now ... now she just had to show up and he hoped she did. All he wanted right now was to see her walk whatever path she was gonna walk, as long as she met him at the end.
He straightened the lapels of his jacket once again, trying to appear as confident as he used to be back then. His rushing mindset was interrupted by a knock on his door.
- Steve, not again. I’m still here and I’m fine. - he barked at the door.
- It’s not Steve. - his sister opened the door.
- Becca? - he abandoned the mirror to go to his sister. - What are you doing here? Is everything all right?
- I would’ve preferred you telling me you were engaged and getting married today rather than one of your bride’s friends, I think his name is Chuck. - she crossed her arms, that childhood smile that she still remained making her way across her lips. - You think I’d let my big brother marry without me to see it? It took a long time but here we are.
- Yeah, getting married in the Avengers’ HQ. How romantic.
- Mum would be so happy. - she started to straighten up his tie. - She always said she wanted you to marry a nice girl and seems like you found one. Although, I was expecting you’d propose to her with mum’s ring. I guess you could give it to her for her birthday or something.
- She doesn’t even have a ring. - he sat down on his old bed. - I feel like she might not even show up.
- I’m sure that if she didn’t run away when she saw your baby photos, she won’t run away now.
- Bucky, five minutes. - Steve poked his head into his old bedroom. - Let’s make a move before the bride is there before you are.
Steve and Sam had decided it would be best to hold the wedding in the inner private garden where no one but the Avengers or people with an access pass could come into. No media, no police, nothing. Bucky did remember that garden, the one with the cherry blossom tree which was somehow always on bloom. Genetically engineered, Bruce had told him, whatever that meant. All he knew was that it was pretty, it was pretty enough for her to get married in with the flowers standing over where whom he guessed was the officiant and the petals which would fall with the wind, laying on the ground.
- Dude, you’re not taking the photos.
- Sam, I am the best man, it is my duty.
- You can barely use a phone. - Sam retorted. - Remember the last photos from yours and Sharon’s vacation?
- C’mon Sam, we all loved to see Steve’s thumb in all of them.
- Fine, I guess I’ll just stay here and do nothing. - Steve stood by Bucky’s right next to Sam and his sister.
Time went slowly even when Sam told him Sharon was already in the building. Despite that, his mind still told him she wasn’t going to come. No one in their right state of mind would marry a super soldier, much less him. Definitely not him, he did not deserve this. He did not deserve this. Yet, she stood there at the end of the makeshift aisle with Sharon and Chuck by her side.
He’d definitely heard many stories from many men and women about how they felt when they first say their loved ones on their wedding date but he never thought about how it would felt. It felt as if he could only see her, everything was blurred and blacked out and all he could see was her approaching him with a wedding gown and veil holding a few white flowers tied together with a white string. He definitely did not deserve her yet there she was. She was there and she took his hand standing by his side, looking more radiant, more beautiful, more ... god words failed, yet all he could say was he felt like he was floating. He was sure in that moment he had to be standing next to an angel.
Y/N handed her flowers to Sharon before turning with Bucky to stare at the officiant.
- Welcome, friends, family and loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two people in marriage. You have come here to share in this commitment they are making to one another and allow James and Y/N to start their married life surrounded by those who care and love them. Marriage is perhaps one of life’s great adventures, one where you chose someone who will see it through with you to the end and support you during your darkest and brightest times. A wedding ceremony is not what makes a marriage but merely a celebration of the choice you have made to support and love each other. This is merely the start of the life you two will carve together. Will you James take this woman to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?
- Absolutely. - he turned to look at her, holding her hands in his,
- Will you Y/N take this man to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?
- Absolutely. - she giggled a bit.
- I have been told the bride and groom have chosen to say their vows in private so we will skip to the rings. Rings are nothing of importance and have no importance unless you give them value. Your wedding rings are a reminder and will be a reminder of the choice you made here today, a choice which is never ending. That’s why the ring is a circle, it’s never ending. - Steve handed Bucky one of the rings they had picked up in a rush from the jewellery shop downtown and Y/N the other one. - James, please place the ring on Y/N’s left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.
- As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - he slide the ring on her finger, thanking heaven he’d gotten the right size.
- Y/N, please place the ring on James’ left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.
- As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - she slide the ring onto his finger.
- And now by the power vested in me by the state of New York, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. You may now kiss the bride.
Y/N gave him a little smile, nose scrunching as it did whenever she smiled out of shyness before he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t long, it was a short and sweet. He knew the two of them had little time and would have to be back in the flat the sooner as possible but it was still a kiss. Their first kiss as a married couple. The two broke the kiss as the clapping became just too loud to ignore and she merely leaned her head against his shoulder, holding his hand in hers as the people around them clapped.
- Good, back on the road. - Steve said taking the lead to exit the garden to which everyone followed, with Bucky and Y/N behind them.
- You look beautiful. - he mumbled to her, kissing her cheek as Sharon and Steve lead them to the back of the HQ where a white van was parked. - Where did Sharon get a van?
- She stole the van.
- I didn’t steal it, Y/N. I borrowed it. I will park it back where it was. - she said as she entered the drivers seat, Steve opening the back for Y/N and Bucky to get in so no one would see them.
The two of them just sat in the back of the van in silence. Her head leaned against his shoulder during the whole trip as he merely basked in the fact that he was married. Not only married, but married to her, to the woman whose head was now leaning against his shoulder. She’d chosen him, she’d come.
Sharon parked behind his apartment, bringing the van to a stop as Steve hopped off to open the door to the apartment complex and Sharon opened the back of the van. Bucky was the first one off, reaching out for Y/N’s hand to help her out.
- Have fun. - Sharon winked at Y/N. - And I am keeping your bouquet. Maybe someone will take a hint.
- Congratulations, Buck. Y/N, you look beautiful, congratulations on dealing with him for a very long time. - Steve added. - I don’t know how long, but expect a few more hundred years.
- I am okay with that. - she smiled at Steve. - Thank you for helping out.
- We will see you in court.
- See you in court.
Bucky kissed the top of her head as the two of them walked inside the apartment, hand firmly clutching hers as the two of them walked up the stairs with her in a rather voluminous dress. She just looked so beautiful to him, he was love drunk on merely her voice but looking at her just made it all even more intense. Catching her little side looks, a small giggles she’d let out whenever he’d kiss her cheek or lips mid climbing the stairs up to the floor where his flat was. It was a tiring day and right them both of them just wanted to be with each other and celebrate witch each other.
As they stood in front of his flat’s entry door, Bucky picked her up bridal style as if they were in some cheesy sitcom, yet it was tradition.
- Bucky, what are you doing? - she giggled at him, her hand holding her veil against her head so it wouldn’t fall down.
- I have to carry my bride over the threshold, that’s just how it works. - Bucky opened the door to his flat and entered the place the two of them already called home with his wife in his arms. He helped her back on her feet before closing the door. Finally, it was just the two of them. - You look so beautiful, princess.
- You’re making me flush, Buck. - she turned her head to her own shoulder, her shyness looking absolutely endearing to him. Yet, everything she did was endearing to him.
- It always looks really sweet, princess.
Bucky kissed the top of her head and walked up to the old vinyl player he’d gotten as a gift from Steve a few years ago which laid on top of a mahogany dresser leaning against the wall of the biggest window on the living room. He fished through a basket of old records, placing one on the vinyl player before walking up to his wife who had a curious look in her sparkling eyes.
- What are you doing, Bucky?
- I’m not doing anything. - he took her hand in his, softly and carefully pulling her towards him. - I want to dance with my wife.
She leaned her head against his chest, listening to his heart softly beating against his ribcage. Everything was so peaceful and despite all that was lying in front off them, they were just focused on each other and the music which softly played in the background. Nothing really mattered in that moment, it was just the two of them, his head buried in her neck and her head against his chest, softly lulling to side, one hand on her small back while the other one held her hand. Fingers intertwined, new shiny copper coloured thin bands on their fourth finger of their left hands.
Wise man say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay would it be a sin if I can’t help falling in love with you ...
- Bucky ... - she rose her head slightly up, not to disturb him. He moved his head to stare at her, bright blue eyes filled with calm seas. - I love you.
- I know, princess. - he smiled, softly and slowly twirling her, before bringing her back to being flushed against his chest.
- No, I don’t just love James Buchanan Barnes. I love all of you. - her free hand rested upon his chest, right over his heart. - I love what you’ve been, what you are and what you’ll be. I love you during your best times and during your worse times. I know you think you’re crazy and damaged but I don’t think you are. If I had gone through half you what’ve gone through, I wouldn’t be a good person after but you ... you decided to help other people, you’re kind, you’re warm. You have a golden heart, James Barnes, and I will always love it. No matter what happens.
Bucky was taken aback by those words, almost as if he wasn’t expecting to hear them. Everything came back into flashbacks, a kaleidoscope of memories from seeing Steve in the train as he fell down, killing the Starks, almost killing Steve, the Zemo events and then it was just her. Seeing her for the first time in the preppy skirt and shirt, the little charming smile she had given him when she had interviewed him, hearing her sing for the first time, kissing her for the first time to seeing her walk down the aisle up to him just a few hours ago and he knew. Bucky knew he’d do it all over again, he’d go through all the pain, through all of what HYDRA did, through all of it as long as she’d be there at the end in her little cupcake shaped white wedding gown and shy smile. He’d do it over again.
He’d do it over again for her. For her touch, for her embrace, for her smile and laughter.
So take my hand, take my whole life too for I can’t help falling in love with you. Oh, I can’t help falling in love with you.
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Assuage: Chapter 1
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Small mentions of violence, slightly descriptive but nothing expansive.
Yoongi had never felt pain like this. Ok, he would take that back. He has felt pain this bad, although that was emotionally and mentally and he doesn’t like to dwell on it much. Physically though, he’d rarely had even a headache that didn’t go away almost as soon as he was ready to acknowledge it. That was one of the perks that came along with being a Prime Alpha.
Prime Alphas weren’t much different from regular Alphas, especially not upon first glance. However, Prime Alphas were stronger, faster, had a better sense of smell and hearing, and could heal themselves even faster than the accelerated rate that was common amongst Alphas, Betas and Omegas.
Which is exactly why Yoongi felt like he was going out of his mind when as the more he became aware of the pain that seemed to be coursing through his body, the worse it seemed to feel. When he finally managed to push his eyes to open, the bright light immediately made him shut them once again. After trying to take a deep breath (and failing because his ribs fucking hurt), he opened his eyes again, slowly this time as he tried to take in his surroundings.
He was clearly in a wooden cabin, although he knew that it wasn’t a familiar one because he didn’t recognize it, by looks or by smell. There was a wall right next to him on left and when he managed to turn his head, he saw another wall further to the right. There were three small cots next to him and he quickly figured that he was laying on the fourth one. As he continued to glance around, he saw different medical instruments such as several thermometers, an eye chart, stethoscopes, and even a defibrillator.
Ok, so Yoongi figured that he was in a medical cabin and as he fully woke up, he remembered exactly how he got the injuries too. What he couldn’t remember though, was who the hell had brought him here.
“You’re fucking insane,” he heard a hushed voice spit and he relaxed against the cot as he listened in, thankful for his improved sense of hearing.
“Come on Y/N-ah,” a deep voice pleaded. “I just need you to do me this favor.”
“A favor that could get both of us cursed out,” you chuckled, and Yoongi could tell that the voice belonged to a woman. “You know the rules Tae.”
“I know but I couldn’t just leave him there,” the man obviously named Tae replied. “You saw the bad shape that he was in.”
“I did but you can’t bring in every lone wolf you see Tae,” you chastised him. “Things are so tense right now between packs, you bringing in a lone wolf that you literally found in the woods isn’t exactly what we need right now. And on top of that, you want me to be the one to explain this to Namjoon?”
“He listens to you,” Tae said.
“He’s not gonna want to listen to anyone once he finds out about this lone wolf,” you shot back. “Especially with Hyo-rin being pregnant, do you really think Namjoon is gonna want a wolf who he doesn’t know from a hole in the wall around his pregnant mate?”
“Y/N-ah-”
“I don’t wanna deal with that Alpha bullshit!” You hissed lowly.
“What if our parents had left me?” Tae questioned and Yoongi didn’t hear Y/N reply for almost a full minute before Tae continued. “You know I would never put the pack in danger purposely, but I couldn’t just leave him there, alone. He looked so defeated and I couldn’t just keep walking knowing that you could save him and that we could give him a home.”
“The day is going to come when you won’t be able to use that ‘our parents’ shit against me, alright?” You threatened.
“But that day isn’t today, is it?” Tae wondered and Yoongi could hear the hopefulness in his voice.
“No...no, it’s not,” you relented and Tae let out a loud cheer. “But if this goes wrong, I’m not gonna hesitate to join Namjoon when he kicks your ass.”
“I won’t mind,” Tae promised and suddenly, the door that was just a little to the right of Yoongi on the opposite wall opened, and Yoongi saw two figures walk into the room.
“Oh! You’re awake,” a tall, black-haired man smiled widely as he bounded over to where Yoongi was laying. A woman followed behind him, her hands clasped behind her back as she looked over Yoongi silently.
“Are you feeling better?” Tae asked and Yoongi just looked at him blankly. “You had some nasty bruises and you were passed out so I brought you here. How’s your pain? Would you like some water or something?”
“Tae, maybe you shouldn’t throw 100 questions at him when he just woke up,” you advised. “Introductions might be better?”
“Oh yeah, you’re right!” Tae nodded. “I’m Taehyung, I’m a Beta, and I’m the one that found you. This is my sister Y/N, she’s an Omega, and she's the pack physician.”
“Nice to meet you,” you smiled lightly at Yoongi but he still had the same blank look on his face so the smile slowly slid away from your face.
“Do you remember how you got hurt?” Taehyung wondered and Yoongi sighed quietly as he thought over what happened. He can vividly remember the fists hitting his face, the feet connecting with his ribs and being dragged across the same dirt that he had played on as a child. Did he want to talk about that though? Not at all.
“No,” Yoongi lied smoothly and he knew that it was believable because Taehyung nodded his head in sorrow.
“That’s ok, I’m more than sure that you’ve had a hard time so no one would fault you for not remembering,” Taehyung replied.
“Your injuries were pretty severe, even for you being a Prime Alpha,” you spoke up, making Yoongi look over at you. “You have a mild concussion and some broken ribs, as well as a fractured left wrist.”
“But Y/N thinks you’ll be able to make a full recovery,” Taehyung added with a wide smile and Yoongi began to wonder if smiling was the man’s default state.
“That’s...good,” Yoongi responded slowly.
“Where are they?!”
“Oh shit,” you sighed. Just then, the same door that you and Taehyung had walked through burst open, this time with a very pissed off man who was obviously an Alpha.
“Ok, it’s not what it looks like,” Taehyung tried to say but the pissed off Alpha scoffed.
“It’s not what it looks like?” He repeated. “If you weren’t my brother, I’d kick your ass right now. Hell, I’m still considering it despite that.”
“Joon, calm down,” you tried to say but Yoongi watched as the man named Joon whipped around to face you.
“And you,” Joon spat. “You know that we are almost on the verge of a pack war and not only that, my mate is pregnant along with several other omegas in this pack and you let him drag a lone wolf onto our territory?!”
“First of all, don’t let your raging Alpha hormones make me fuck you up, because I don’t know who the hell you think you’re yelling at,” you started evenly. “Second of all, Taehyung only brought him here because he was damn near dead. You know he wouldn’t do anything to endanger the pack on purpose.” Yoongi couldn’t help but to be surprised at how you stood up to this huge Alpha, especially with you being an Omega.
“That’s not the point Y/N-ah,” Joon sighed. “The point is, this man is a lone wolf and we don’t even know how he ended up like this, do we?”
“Not exactly,” Taehyung admitted. “Or, not at all actually.”
“Can you not talk about me as if I’m not here?” Yoongi found himself speaking up, which made all of the other three heads in the room whip towards him. “I don’t remember how my injuries happened but I can guarantee you, I’m not here to try and take over your pack.”
“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Joon wondered as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s like Y/N-ah said hyung, he was damn near dead,” Taehyung shrugged and Joon just sighed. “Come on hyung, what if our parents had left me?”
“I am the pack Alpha Taehyung, you can’t keep using that on me!” Joon exclaimed and Yoongi looked over at Taehyung to see him smirking.
“But it’s working though, right?” He guessed and Joon groaned loudly before nodding slowly.
“Fine, he can stay,” Joon relented and Taehyung cheered loudly.
“Thank you hyung,” Taehyung grinned and Joon waved him off.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered before turning towards Yoongi and holding his hand out. “I’m Kim Namjoon, pack Alpha.”
“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi replied evenly, reaching out with his right hand and shaking Namjoon’s.
“Well, if you’re looking for a pack, we’d be willing to take you in,” Namjoon told him.
“I’m not really looking for a...permanent pack,” Yoongi told him.
“Really? Huh,” Namjoon scoffed. “Well, if I were you, I’d start thinking about it because a pack could protect you from someone giving you a repeat go around of those injuries you have now.”
“Alright Joon, back off,” you warned.
“Feel free to rest Yoongi, you’re safe to do so,” Namjoon said. ”You have my word.” Namjoon then turned around walked out of the room, both you and Taehyung letting out sighs of relief once he was gone.
“I have some other patients that I have to see,” you sighed after checking the time on the watch that sat on your wrist. “Tae, you’ll look after him?”
“Sure,” Taehyung nodded and after receiving a short nod from you, Yoongi watched as you walked out of the room as well. Taehyung then turned back to Yoongi, the same grin still on his face.
“So do you want to rest more or would you like to hear about the pack?” Taehyung asked him. “Since you’re probably gonna be here for a while, it’ll be good for you to know some basic things.”
“I think I’d rather sleep,” Yoongi replied honestly, the extent of his injuries making him drowsy again.
“Oh sure, that’s no issue!” Taehyung agreed easily. “I’ll leave you to rest.” Yoongi then watched as Taehyung walked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Yoongi turned his head and looked up at the ceiling then, trying to put the fact that his old pack was the reason that he had ended up like this out of his mind as he let his eyes flutter closed and allowed sleep to take over him.
#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts suga#bts yoongi#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#abo yoongi#abo suga#abo bts#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#suga smut#suga fluff#suga angst#werewolf bts
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hushed
the royal masquerade | hunter fierro x mc (juliet rosario)
hunter & juliet return to the library. for @trmaw 🖤
~2k words | E (18+)
“so...” hunter murmurs, the seriousness implied in the low tone of his voice betrayed by the way one corner of his mouth is lifted in an improper smirk, “this is the library.”
despite herself, she’s as charmed as ever by his absurdity. juliet huffs out a laugh under her breath, slowly shaking her head. “i can’t believe you’ve never stepped inside.”
“i was rather busy with a few other things.” his smirk widens. “plus, you know me. i’m not exactly one for being quiet.”
she hums, the sound bordering on the edge of disapproving. she knows exactly what hunter of house fierro has been doing instead of reading in the library. the reason they never crossed paths in her past is because before her, hunter spent most of his free time bedding the women who’d followed him around town, ignoring the signs that his sister was capable of murder and plotting behind his back.
the expression on his face remains perfectly innocent even as her eyebrows arch at him disapprovingly. “right,” juliet laughs finally, “of course. how could i forget?”
“you have a lot on your mind,” hunter answers graciously, his eyes sparkling. “of course i forgive you.”
“quite kind of you.” her hands remain folded in front of her as she inclines her head down one row of tomes. “this is where i spent most of my time. transcribing for the archives.”
“indeed,” hunter hums, stepping up beside her to squeeze her hand before continuing down the row of the archives, looking every bit the king regent he no longer is. despite the fact that the title has eluded him, there’s something about hunter that will always look regal, the tilt of his shoulders and the cut of his clothes simply screaming status.
she follows behind him, eyes scanning the titles they pass. it’s been a long time since she’s been in the library, but the smell of the dusty old manuscripts she spent so many hours meticulously logging stirs up a host of unpleasant memories that threaten to take her over. she can still feel the phantom rap of a ruler against her knuckles when she’d dozed off, the ache of hunger in her stomach when it’d been an entire day of writing with no breaks for food.
“juliet?” the sound of her name startles her from her stupor, and she shakes her head, moving to meet up with hunter where he’s stopped halfway down the aisle. “are you alright?”
“just lost in a memory,” she murmurs, lips lifting up into a smile. just the sight of him brightens her spirits, the affection in hunter’s eyes a welcome reminder that her reality is different, now.
they’ve come so far.
as if reading her mind, hunter lifts her knuckles to his mouth to brush a tender kiss against her fingers, shooting her a look of love from under lush lashes. her smile widens into something more genuine.
“perhaps we should work to give you a more positive memory of this room,” he suggests, glancing over his own shoulder.
juliet blinks at him. “what do you mean?”
the expression on hunter’s face transforms, from sweet to wicked in a matter of moments. his hand slides around her waist to pull her closer, until they’re nearly nose-to-nose in the archive stacks.
it’s then that she understands what he must mean, and she feels heat rush to her face in embarrassment, as though someone’s already caught them acting untoward.
but there’s no one around as far as she can see; the library is empty. it’s a beautiful afternoon, and she knows mostly everyone is outside taking advantage of the weather. they’re the only two people hidden away in the library, though the sudden sound of her racing pulse feels so loud she wonders how it hasn’t attracted anyone else yet.
“you can’t be serious,” juliet hears herself say, distantly. it feels like the appropriate thing to say. they can’t possibly...
“oh, i’m very serious,” hunter assures her, his hand warm at the small of her back where he’s rubbing soothing circles into her skin above her dress. “it’s only logical.”
her hands come to rest on his shoulders as hunter beckons her closer. “how do you figure?”
“the library was cruel to you. i’ll be generous to make up for it.” she can feel the fabric of her skirt shift as hunter’s free hand ever-so-slowly pulls at the fabric. “what do you say?”
in response, juliet turns her head and kisses him before she can think too much about it, brushing her lips against his gently, at first, and then more eagerly when hunter kisses her back.
there’s at least a thousand reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this -- not here and not now -- but she finds she can’t be bothered as she considers hunter’s logic and decides he’s ultimately right.
the library took so much from her. many of her most hopeless moments occurred in this very room. it’s hard to find a dark corner of the library she hadn’t stowed away in to cry at one point or another, so if she’s able to kiss her betrothed in the middle of the stacks, with sunlight streaming in through the grand, stained-glass windows, why shouldn’t she?
hunter’s movements are slow as his hand lifts her skirt up, higher and higher until it’s officially indecent for the library, laying her bare against the books. their kiss breaks so they can both draw breath, and she pushes up onto her tip-toes to lock eyes with him, back arching to press her body alongside hunter’s.
“you’re quite radiant, you know,” he comments absently as his fingers encircle her thigh, creeping around her leg to dance upwards. his tone is so conversational anyone browsing the records on the other side of the library would never imagine what they were doing, if they happened to overhear. “beautiful, really.”
“you think so?” juliet asks, her eyelashes fluttering. she can hear her breath growing embarrassingly quicker as hunter’s touch climbs higher and higher.
“of course,” hunter murmurs, eyes fixed firmly on her face. from anyone else, the staring might be unnerving, but when he’s the one looking at her, it’s hard to feel anything other than delight.
hunter is not shy about letting her know he is in her thoughts. he is the most forthcoming man she’s ever spoken to (not that he has much competition) and revels in showcasing his affections openly and honestly. he is romantic, in a way she’d never expected -- she often finds herself the recipient of flowers and surprise moonlight strolls and now, it seems, amorous breaks in the library.
yet he still catches her by surprise with his sweetness every time.
“i daresay a majority of the kingdom feels the same,” he continues. before she can challenge him, his fingers pause, parting her so the pad of his thumb can press in with an easy slide where she’s already wet. “you have many admirers.”
her laugh is breathless, the grip she has on his shoulders tightening. “quite a comment, coming from you.”
hunter’s answering chuckle makes her toes curl in her shoes. juliet forces her eyes open and her breath catches at the expression on his face, serious and wanting with intensity and gentleness both displayed in his eyes in equal measure.
his thumb circles her, catching just right where she’s most sensitive, the practiced movement of his fingers comforting, for their familiarity. hunter knows her. for someone like juliet, who went much of her life without that very basic comfort, their intimacy is everything. knowing she can rely on hunter to understand her, to take care of her, to treat her like he does...
it’s all she’s ever wanted and more.
“don’t be smart,” hunter chides, though the curve of his mouth seems to suggest he’s amused. his hand continues to move, which is all that matters, anyway, the brush of his thumb pressing into something more purposeful while his wrist angles just so.
“i can’t help it,” juliet murmurs, aiming for cheeky and landing somewhere very far off, her voice almost shy as she resists the urge to bury her flushed face in hunter’s shoulder. “hunter.”
“yes, darling?” hunter’s free hand, bunched in her skirt, jerks to urge her closer. as she moves, his fingers slip deeper, sending a shiver down her spine. “everything alright?”
his voice is teasing, and yet she can’t find the words to bicker back with him. she can’t find any words at all, actually, exhaling a sound that’s half-moan, half-sigh as hunter touches her so expertly. her eyelids flutter shut again.
hunter gives another soft laugh under his breath. “there you go,” he encourages, and she shudders again.
despite the fact that they’re so clearly the only ones in the library, she can’t quite bring herself to get loud, hushed out of habit and by the implication of where they are and what they’re doing. her teeth bite down on her bottom lip, yet they don’t stop another groan from escaping, louder this time against her best efforts.
the skilled stroking of hunter’s fingers is quick to make her head swim, so she’s grateful for the firm kiss he bestows against her lips when his head angles in. juliet relies on him to keep her upright, holding tightly to hunter’s broad shoulders while his touch never falters, relentless between her legs.
she rocks up onto her tip-toes, scrambling for purchase against him. often, they’re in bed together when they do this, and it’s rare that her legs are left trembling while she’s still vertical, save one or two memorable occasions in the bathhouse. this is sure to be an experience she’ll never forget, and she’s certain she won’t ever be able to look in the direction of the library again without recalling the expression on hunter’s face.
though there’s worse things, she supposes, as she watches him watch her so intently. hunter’s eyes never fail to make her feel desired, and especially now, only heighten her emotions as she climbs faster and faster to an edge.
“so beautiful, juliet,” hunter murmurs softly, gaze adoring where it’s set on hers. “stunning.”
his gentle encouragement is all she needs to tumble to pieces. with one last gasping inhale, she shakes apart against him, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself quiet. pleasure courses through her in a rush, and she’s grateful for hunter’s solid presence at the shelves to help her through it, his touch coaxing a few more sighs from her lips before she eventually calms and goes still.
her chest rises and falls rapidly as she works to catch her breath, and when she’s finally able to open her eyes, juliet finds hunter smiling indulgently at her, the expression on his face suggesting he’s just observed some grand entertainment.
“you seem awfully pleased with yourself,” she mutters, lifting a hand from his shoulder to push her own hair back out of her face.
“wouldn’t you be?” hunter asks smugly, finally pulling his hand out from under her skirt. the fabric drops down to the floor, swishing back across her knees, and juliet presses her legs together, twisting to shift her undergarments back into place.
“i suppose,” she allows with a laugh, her own mouth curving into a grin as hunter moves to adjust his pants. he seems to know what she does, which is that they’ve already pressed their luck to its limits, being in here as long as they have. extending their time in the library any further seems to be asking for consequences.
still, hunter’s hands move to grasp her chin lightly between his fingers, and he draws her into a soft, slow kiss, lips meandering as though they have all the time in the world.
she relaxes against him, kissing back just as sweetly. it hardly matters if someone catches her now, after all. there’ll be no ruler whacked against her knuckles, this time. there’s no tomes to transcribe, no archives to maintain.
the sun continues to stream into the room through the stained glass, casting water colors in shadow across their bodies where they’re intertwined. hunter pulls back to smile at her and she mirrors his expression easily, her heart pounding with love --
with joy --
-- and with peace.
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Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 22/?
For @sterekvalentineweek Day 3
Secret Crush
4 times Stiles gave Derek a valentine, and 1 time Derek decided to return the favor.
The story can be read under the cut or on AO3!
1st grade
Derek was new, and that’s what causes the whole fiasco.
Well, not exactly new. He had been at the school since the school year had started back in August, and it was now February. But he was new in that it’s the first year anyone in his family has ever attended public school. Born into a powerful pack of werewolves with a history spanning back centuries, he had been raised surrounded only by werewolves and humans who knew about the supernatural. None of his relatives had ever gone to public school, as the risk was deemed too great to send children out in public where they may accidentally reveal their true nature. Derek and his siblings were supposed to be home-schooled, as was tradition.
However, times were changing, and their emissary had suggested the children should start attending public school. Not only was it to help the children learn how to handle being around humans and in public, but also the hunters were becoming more aggressive, and it was advised that they act as much like normal humans as possible so as not to raise suspicion.
So Derek and his older sister, Laura, were the first werewolves in the Hale pack history to go to public school. It was their first year for both of them, Derek in first grade and Laura in second. They had spent the years before learning how to control their shift under the guise of home-schooling, and the family was confident they would blend right in.
They did blend in, for the most part, never letting their eyes change color and holding back growls no matter how angry they became. But apparently, there was more to being human than just looking the part. There were all these rules and customs that everyone seemed to know except them. Derek rarely minded his family’s social faux pas, honestly never really noticing them. But on this one occasion, everyone noticed, and he was particularly upset.
It was Valentine’s Day, a holiday which his family never celebrated (why did humans need a holiday to show their adoration for their mates? How strange). The lack of experience with the holiday is why nobody in the family realized it was customary to bring “valentines” to school to share with classmates, and that’s why he arrived empty-handed.
When all the other students set up their boxes in which to receive treats, he watched in confusion, which morphed into dawning horror when he realized everyone had gifts to hand out except for him.
Derek had hoped he could slip under the radar, receive the gifts like everyone else and then maybe bring double the treats next year to make up for it.
The teacher had a different idea. The teacher scolded him in front of the whole class for being irresponsible and inconsiderate, and told him that if he had nothing to share, then nobody could share with him. He had to sit in the corner by himself and think about what he had done wrong (he was 6 years old, he didn’t have money or a calendar, this hardly seemed like his fault).
So Derek sat in the corner by himself, not only having to hear all of the other kids laugh and have a great time, but also smell the delicious treats thanks to his werewolf nose. He was used to being on his own at school, not having made any real friends, but it hurt so much more knowing he was being purposefully excluded. He had to fight hard to hold back his claws, and even harder to fight back tears. He hated this stupid school and the stupid humans in it and their stupid rules and traditions and just wanted to go home.
When the school day was finally, blessedly over, Derek shuffled out of the room with his head bowed and shoulders hunched, not wanting to see the smiles on all of the other kids’ faces and not wanting them to see the frown on his, unable to help feeling like they were mocking him.
He made it out the front doors of the school, and thought he was finally free, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He turned with a scowl. It was a student in his class named Stiles. Derek wasn’t really friends with him. They had played together at recess a couple of times and he seemed funny and nice, but it wasn’t like they had ever spoken outside of school.
Derek began to wonder if he was wrong in his categorization of Stiles as nice, because he could think of no reason for any of his classmates to stop him except to gloat. Before Stiles had even said anything, Derek was already seething, thinking about the treat Stiles had brought that everyone had gotten to try except for him. While most of the students had just brought candy, Stiles had brought clearly homemade sugar cookies, and the scent had had Derek salivating in his isolation.
Before he could snap at Stiles in anger, however, Stiles thrust his hands forward in an offering. Derek looked down and was surprised to see he was holding two cookies, each partially covered by a napkin.
“Sorry Mrs. Johnson was so mean to you today. She said that we weren’t allowed to give you any valentines but I think that’s mean and dumb and I don’t follow mean and dumb rules. So I saved you a cookie. Actually, I saved you two cookies, one of them is for your sister because I figure if you didn’t bring any valentines then she probably didn’t either and might have also not been allowed any treats, which would be so sad because what’s the point of Valentine’s day besides the treats. If you eat them both, though, that’s okay because you didn’t get any candy or anything so I think you probably deserve two cookies. I would give you even more cookies but I only had the one that was already for you, and then the extra one my mom packed in my lunch box. I wanted to eat that one and then I also wanted to eat yours but I realized I shouldn’t because my mom already gave me a cookie last night so I really don’t need another and also my mom bakes all the time and most people don’t get to try the greatness of her cookies and so I have a respons- responsabl- responsibit- it’s my job to share the cookies.”
Stiles finally quit his rambling to stare expectantly at Derek, who was staring back in shock. He shoved his hands forward again, until Derek finally took the offered cookies.
Derek didn’t even get the chance to say thank you before Stiles was talking again, telling some story about a time he forgot his shoes at home and how that was way worse than forgetting some valentines. He kept talking before he noticed the bus was beginning to leave, and sprinted off without so much as a goodbye.
Derek looked down once again at the cookies, and saw there was a note included. Written on a sticky note in first-grader scrawl, it said Sorry the teacher is so mean. You can be my BVF (best valentine forever). Valentine was written three different times, the first two times crossed out as he clearly wasn’t positive how the word was spelled.
Derek did end up giving the second cookie to Laura, and he found he didn’t mind because he knew the note was all his.
4th grade
Derek still didn’t particularly care for Valentine’s Day, his introduction to the holiday forever tainting his opinion, but he had still come to find himself excited about the impending sugar.
There was a storm cloud over this Valentine’s Day, though, at least for Derek and definitely for Stiles. Ever since first grade, Derek had looked forward to the homemade treats Stiles would bring, baked with love by his mother.
Derek knew that wouldn’t be the case on this day, though, because Stiles’ mother had passed away a couple of months before.
Everyone in the small town knew about it, rumors constantly spreading about the sheriff’s new drinking habits. Nobody seemed to notice the effect it had on the young boy. But Derek did.
Stiles had become more withdrawn in the months leading up to his mother’s death, presumably having to deal with her illness, but it was like he shut down once she was gone. The boy who once talked a mile a minute now was silent, except for the occasional whispers to his best friend. His absences became more frequent, and he stopped bringing a lunch to school, instead having to buy cafeteria food he would rarely eat. The worst part though was the scent of grief that constantly clung to him.
Derek saw how badly he was affected and could only hope that he would heal with time. Derek wished he knew how to help, but he still hadn’t even figured out how to make friends, let alone how to help someone cope with the loss of a parent.
So Derek knew he wouldn’t be getting any baked goods on this day, that he probably wouldn’t be receiving anything from Stiles. He just hoped that the teacher wasn’t as rude about it as his first-grade teacher had been.
Derek was proven wrong though. Stiles hadn’t brought cookies or anything of the like, but he had brought valentines. For every classmate, he had a red piece of paper which he had folded into a heart and marked with their names. They weren’t perfect, but they were definitely better than most nine-year-olds could do.
Derek was so touched at the small gift, and seethed when he saw none of the other students saw it for what it was. He even saw one student throw their heart in the trash (which Derek made a point to dig out and keep for himself because that heart was something Stiles had spent time on and deserved to be cherished). None of the students realized how kind Stiles was. That while dealing with grief, which was probably made even worse with the holiday bringing on a reminder of a tradition he could no longer partake in, and a father who himself was probably still grieving and didn’t remember he was supposed to get valentines for his son, Stiles had still made sure he had something to give to his classmates. This gift was far more valuable than anything any other student had brought.
Derek was even more touched when he realized that there was a note written inside of the heart, too. He carefully unfolded it, making sure to keep track of how he did it so he would be able to refold it, and read what was inside.
Don’t tell Scott, but you’re still my favorite Valentine.
It was made even better when he realized the other heart he had, the one from the trash, had no note, meaning Stiles had written a note especially for Derek.
Derek gave Stiles the warmest smile he could from across the room and vowed to keep that note forever.
6th grade
Derek was quick to realize Valentine’s Day was not the same in middle school as in elementary. For one, there was no making mailboxes or handing out valentines. If you wanted to celebrate the holiday, you had to do it on your own time.
The second major difference was that “like-liking” someone was a thing, and lots of girls “like-liked” Derek. Derek was apparently one of the cutest guys in the grade, and that helped immensely with his popularity. He had finally been able to make some friends, which was nice.
Derek wasn’t really a fan of all of the attention he got at school, though. He would have preferred to just spend time with the couple of best friends he had made, and ignore all of the people who wanted to be his friend solely for his status.
He knew Valentine’s Day would give some girls the perfect opportunity to confess their “feelings” for him (they didn’t even know him!) and Derek was not looking forward to it.
Derek had been correct in his assumption, and by the end of the day, three different girls had asked to be his Valentine, and he had to kindly reject them all. It was far too much for him, and he was exhausted by the end of the day.
Before he could go home, though, he had to stop at his locker to grab a textbook he needed for class.
He was surprised, and a little bit disturbed, to find a box of chocolates in his locker. It was definitely too big for someone to just slip through the slots, so someone would have had to break into his locker to get it there.
Derek immediately felt all of his annoyance of the day growing. Why could these girls not leave him alone?
However, when he leaned in to grab the box, he caught a whiff of a scent that had him calming down.
Stiles.
Suddenly, Derek found he wasn’t too upset. It wasn’t at all surprising that the boy knew how to break into lockers, and Derek found himself inexplicably preening at the thought that the boy still wanted to be his Valentine.
Taped to the bottom of the box was a typed note with no signature, clearly meant to anonymous. Derek likely never would have known who it was if it wasn’t for his werewolf senses.
The note simply read “Why don’t they let us hand out candy anymore? Middle school is lame. Don’t worry, I won’t let them ruin the holiday for you (everyone knows the sweets are the whole point). Hope you enjoy the chocolates, valentine.”
On second thought, Derek realized he probably would have been able to figure out it was Stiles, just based on the note. He could practically hear the words in Stiles’ voice. He would still let him think he got away with being anonymous, though.
Maybe middle school Valentine’s Days weren’t so bad, after all.
10th grade
Derek just knew this was going to be the worst Valentine’s Day ever, and he wished that he could just skip the whole day. He would totally pretend to be sick so he could stay home except that werewolves can’t get sick so he doubted that would fly with his parents.
Derek had broken up with his girlfriend, Paige, just a couple of weeks before. He knew that in the grand scheme of things they weren’t that serious, they hadn’t even been together for a whole year, but he had felt like he was madly in love with her.
He was healing, of course, and, for the most part, had moved on. But Valentine’s Day would just be a reminder of what he was missing (it stung every time he remembered he never got the chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day with her, he had been secretly excited to finally have a real significant other to be romantic with). That, and due to his popular status, the day would either bring on pitying looks from all of the students who thought his relationship was somehow their business, or flirting from girls who thought they now had a chance. Knowing his luck, probably a combination of both.
Derek groaned when he walked into his first-period history class and saw a heart-shaped balloon tied to the back of the desk he usually sat at. This was absolutely the last thing he wanted to deal with. He thought about just sitting at a different desk but figured it was better to go ahead and throw away the balloon before class started so as to avoid drawing any attention.
When he got to his desk, he saw a note tied to the string of the balloon. He opened it and a smile bloomed on his face when he was met with typed words.
Of course! He had been so focused on Paige that he forgot about the annual tradition Stiles had begun in the sixth grade of leaving secret gifts with notes for Derek.
Stiles wasn’t even in the class so Derek didn’t even know how he had known which desk was his, but at this point, nothing Stiles did could really surprise him.
I know they may not be the usual sweets, but I figure with this, you can tell anyone who bothers you that you already have a valentine. You know I’ve always got your back, Valentine.
The note just reconfirmed for Derek that it was from Stiles.
The gift cheered him up immensely, and he felt his qualms about the day beginning to melt away.
~~~
The day dragged on until lunch, made better by the balloon Derek carted around, which actually did help keep people away.
Derek was sitting at his usual spot with his friends when he hears a commotion from the other side of the cafeteria, and turned to see what was going on.
It seemed everyone turned to look, although he’s not sure if they can all hear. It was easy enough with his enhanced senses, though.
Derek could make out Stiles standing up on a table, looking down at a girl with strawberry blonde hair. The rest of the people at the table had faces ranging from shock to embarrassment, except for one guy who looked like he was fuming. Derek honestly didn’t know if that table was where Stiles usually sat, or if he had just decided to crash.
“Lydia, today, on the most romantic day of the year, I must make my feelings known. I know you are a goddess and I am a mere mortal, but my heart sings for you and I can no longer hide it. Reject your other suitors, for none see how brightly you shine like I do. Please accept this token of my affection, and be my Valentine.” Stiles opened up a thin box he had been holding to reveal a heart-shaped cookie cake.
Derek cringed in second-hand embarrassment, especially when he saw people giggling and filming the whole thing.
“I’ll think about it,” the girl responded in an airy voice. She was too far away that Derek couldn’t tell if she was being mocking or serious.
Stiles’ grin didn’t leave his face as he stepped down from the table. Derek saw him offer Lydia the cookie cake, but she held her hand up in rejection. Stiles shrugged and held the box closer, then grabbed his friend, who Derek recognized as his best friend Scott, by the shoulder and rushed out of the cafeteria.
Derek found himself fuming. At first, he thought it was at the way everyone was laughing at Stiles after he put himself out there, and the way the girl didn’t even appreciate what he had done. But he realized that wasn’t what it was, not really.
It was jealousy.
Derek had always cherished the tradition he had going on with Stiles (although he supposed it was mostly one-sided and it was secret), and it had made him feel special. Now he felt like it meant nothing. It was nothing more than Stiles feeling bad for the kid who once had a bad Valentine’s Day.
Derek abruptly shoved away from his table and stood up. He grumbled an excuse about having to be somewhere and stomped out of the cafeteria, annoyed he had to drag the balloon from Stiles with him. All he wanted was to pop the dumb balloon and shove it in a trash can, but knew he would regret it if he decided to do that in front of a cafeteria full of people.
As Derek stormed down the, thankfully empty, hallway, he heard a voice. He froze when he recognized that it was Stiles’ voice. He immediately hid himself against the wall, then rolled his eyes when he realized Stiles wasn’t even coming toward him, but seemed to be having a conversation in the hallway perpendicular to the one Derek was in. Derek knew there was no reason to, but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“I just don’t understand why you did that! You know Lydia would never go for you!” That was Scott’s voice, and Derek couldn’t help but feel offended on Stiles’ behalf.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Scott. I feel like the more pressing issue that you could have mentioned is the fact that I don’t even swing that way, which would have been a much less hurtful thing to say.”
Derek froze. Had he heard that correctly? He felt guilty realizing he had listened to Stiles out himself, but felt frozen in his spot.
Scott sighed explosively. “Okay, so then why did you do it?”
Stiles gave an equally dramatic sigh. “Because Lydia asked me to, duh. Besides the fact I’m too afraid of her to say no, she gave a compelling argument. She’s currently fighting with Jackson and wanted to piss him off and make him jealous, and you know I’m always down to piss Jackson off. Plus, she said she would get a cookie cake and let me keep it, which, as you can see, she did. Plus, it’s not like I have a reputation to uphold. This isn’t even the most embarrassing thing I’ve done this year.”
Scott laughed. “Oh yeah, you mean like wooing the same person for years but not even telling them it’s you? Or talking to them?”
Stiles hissed out a “shut up” in anger, but Derek tuned out the rest of the conversation, feeling like he was on cloud nine.
Scott must have been talking about all of the gifts Stiles had been giving to Derek. Which meant it did mean something, and that Stiles actually had feelings for Derek. Not for Lydia, who didn’t even appreciate Stiles.
Derek spent the rest of the day feeling like he was floating, proudly holding his balloon through the hallways. It wasn’t until the end of the day that Derek that the way he was reacting was a bit over the top unless…
Did Derek also have feelings for Stiles?
12th grade
Derek felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he was certain he had already sweat through his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous.
It was Valentine’s Day, his last one before he went to college. He knew if he didn’t do anything, it would be fine. Stiles would probably give him an anonymous gift like every year, and it would be a nice thing to reminisce about one day. It would be the same as always.
But Derek decided he couldn’t let things stay the same, and he was about to throw a wrench in Stiles’ plans.
He wasn’t sure at what point he had begun to develop feelings for Stiles, but he had realized in tenth grade after he heard about Stiles’ feelings that they were definitely there, and at this point they had become too deep to ignore. He wanted to be Stiles’ valentine but he wanted it to be for real this time, and the only way to make that happen was by telling him. And desperately hoping that he hadn’t completely misinterpreted everything.
Derek had arrived to school over half an hour early, parking right next to Stiles’ usual spot to make sure he didn’t miss him. He wanted to catch him in the parking lot, to hopefully stay out of the way of prying eyes.
It had seemed like a good idea, but now he was left stewing in his own anxiety, thinking about everything that could go wrong and wondering if he should back out now before it was too late. He even wondered if he shouldn’t have made his younger sister hitch a ride with someone else so that at the very least he would have company, but he knew she would only make him more stressed. Sisters were evil like that.
Fifteen minutes before school began and Stiles finally arrived.
It was now or never.
Derek got out of his car just as Stiles did, and called his name. Stiles jumped in shock and turned to face Derek. Derek caught a whiff of nerves off of him, but he didn’t run, so at least that was a good start.
“Can I talk to you real quick?”
Stiles looked surprised, but he nodded and approached Derek. “Uh, sure. Did you want to go inside, or…”
“No, we can talk out here. Actually, it’s better out here, because I have some stuff. In my car, I mean. So it’s easier if it’s here and I don’t have to carry it and we can just talk here now.” Derek realized none of what he was saying was making sense, and felt dread pool in his stomach when he saw the confusion growing on Stiles’ face. God, why was this so hard?
“I just wanted to say- uh- Happy Valentine’s Day. Well, that wasn’t all I wanted to say, but- One sec.” Derek ducked into the back of his car, glad he had an excuse to collect himself for a moment.
When he reemerged, it was with a box which he placed on top of his trunk. He was grateful to see that Stiles hadn’t fled.
Derek looked down at the box, avoiding eye contact with Stiles to the best of his ability, and began pulling out items one by one. “In second grade, you brought me a brownie, one that had heart-shaped sprinkles that your mother had baked. In third grade, it was an equally delicious cupcake.” He pulled out a brownie and cupcake (both store-bought and certainly not as good as Stiles’ mother’s baked goods, but baking was not his strong suit) and shoved both into Stiles’ hands, continuing on before Stiles could interrupt him. “In fourth grade, it was a folded heart, which I now realize was very impressive, since I’m about double the age you were when you made ones for the whole class and just this one took me about 20 tries.” He gave out a self-deprecating laugh, and once again handed the item to Stiles. “In fifth grade, it was a heart-shaped lollipop. In sixth, a box of chocolates. Seventh, conversation hearts.” He realized Stiles’ hands were too full to hold anything else, and began placing the items onto the trunk next to the box instead. “In eighth grade, it was a teddy bear. Freshman year, it was chocolate covered strawberries. Sophomore year, you gave me a heart-shaped balloon, which was actually quite useful.” He had to lean back into his car to grab the balloon, since it had been too big for the box. “Last year, it was roses. And all of it began in first grade, when you decided the nobody kid in the class with no friends deserved to have something nice, no matter what the teacher said, when you gave me the best cookie I have, to this day, ever had. You told me then, and for years to come, that I was your valentine. And as much as I loved that, I want something more. Will you be my real valentine? Will you be mine?” Finally, he pulled out a heart-shaped cookie, covered with pink icing and the words Be Mine written on top.
Derek finally looked up at Stiles, who had his mouth open in shock. He smelled like a myriad of emotions, and Derek was having difficulty getting a read on him. As the seconds passed, he began to get the sinking feeling he had royally fucked up.
“Are you kidding me?” Stiles finally burst out, and barrelled on before Derek could even figure out what part he was reacting to. “You’ve ruined my ten-year plan! I have been secretly wooing you- or at least I thought it was secret- for years, and today was going to be the grand finale! I was going to confess that it was me all along and then I was going to offer you a kiss and if it was weird and you weren’t interested I had some chocolate kisses to give you so I could play it off all cool, but then if you were interested we were going to have a great, romantic first kiss. But you have out-romanced me in one fell swoop! How dare you!”
Derek stared back in shock. He felt.. actually he had no idea how he felt and wasn’t even sure what part of that he was supposed to react to first.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Stiles demanded, although Derek could see the smile hidden on his face.
“Uh… is a kiss still on the table?”
“Chocolate or real?”
“What do you think?”
Stiles pretended to think about it for a moment. “Well, after that grand romantic gesture, I would say a real kiss. But I do know you have a sweet tooth, so it’s hard to say for sure…”
“How about this? You kiss me now, and then after school we go on a date and finish that whole bag of kisses together. And all this store-bought shit I got you. Sound like a good compromise to you?”
Stiles smirked. “Sounds perfect, Valentine.”
After that, Derek helped Stiles put all of the gifts into his Jeep, and then they walked hand and hand to the school, not even caring they were probably late at this point.
Suddenly, a thought hit Derek, and he froze, causing Stiles to stumble and then turn to him with an expectant eyebrow raised.
“Wait, you said ten-year plan. Have you actually been wooing me this whole time?”
Stiles blushed, and it was the prettiest thing Derek had ever seen. “Well, not exactly. But after I gave you that cookie in first grade, I saw the way your eyes lit up, and when you smiled at me, well, my little 6-year-old heart knew you were going to be the only Valentine I’d ever need.”
#sterekvalentineweek2021#sorry this is a day late :(#I have bad time management#and this got so long#def longest thing I’ve posted on here#so I had to do ao3 which I haven’t done on here before#so now it’s officially linked lol#sterek#derek hale#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#sterek fanfiction#Sterek fic#Sterek fanfic#sterek moodboard#moodboards for sterek aus#my moodboards#mood board#valentine's day#my stuff#my writing
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Stubborn Love
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader
Request: I’m wondering if you good do one where Y/N is the twin sister of Pansy Parkinson, and Y/N and Draco have been in a secret relationship and Pansy finds out because she likes Draco and it causes some tension between the sisters.
A/N I wrote in the update for this week that this was a crossover with Winx but it’s just HP, I read the request wrong 😅
Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi
You don’t mean for it to happen. You know your sister likes him and you have every intention of staying far away from the blonde boy for that exact reason. But the universe has other plans. Every class is with him, you run into him during all free periods. At one point, you hide in the girl’s bathroom just to stay away from him. You don’t want to admit it but his smile makes you feel things you shouldn’t. The only time you find peace is evenings in the Hufflepuff common room.
“I heard a rumour,” Cedric says dropping down next to you. He slams his potions book on the table along with his half-written paper on top of it. You keep quiet waiting for him to elaborate.
“I heard Draco Malfoy likes you,” he then says just as you’re reaching for your water bottle. You knock it to the ground from pure shock spilling the content all over the floor.
“Shit,” you mumble getting down on the floor to clean up when Cedric stops you. He waves his wand in front of you before magically drying off the carpet.
“Are you okay?” he asks you and you’re not sure how to tell him that you have a thing for the one boy your sister asked you to stay away from but somehow, you manage to anyway. He doesn’t get it. Cedric hates Draco but he respects your feelings.
“You can’t make yourself unhappy because you don’t want to hurt your sister. I’m sure she’ll understand.” You make sound that sounds like something between laughing and choking.
“Have you met my twin sister? There’s a reason she’s in Slytherin and I’m in Hufflepuff,” you say thinking of all the hexes she’ll use on you when she finds out you have a thing for Draco.
“I’m sure she’d be happy for you as long as you’re honest with her.” And you know he’s right, it’s just you’re not ready to tell her. You don’t want to tell her in case nothing happens between you and Draco. But two months pass and suddenly, you’re in too deep. It’s gone from discretely looking in his direction to kissing him in empty classrooms and by the quidditch field when no one is around. You want to tell Pansy because she keeps flirting with him only to be rejected and you feel horrible for knowing exactly why he’ll never return her emotions.
“We have to tell her,” you say one day as you and Draco are walking the grounds. You’re far enough away from the school to be brave enough to hold hands but you still worry someone might see you.
“I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be with you and I want my sister to be happy for us.” You know it’s much to hope for but you can’t keep hiding your feelings. You deserve better than that and so does Draco.
“I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t really care as long as I get to be with you.” He’s cute - far too cute for how you’ve always been told Slytherins are. You’d worried about Pansy when the sorting hat said she belonged in Slytherin but you had to admit that they weren’t all bad.
“So, you’d be fine lying your entire life if it meant we could stay together?” you say jokingly but he just shrugs his shoulders not seeing the joke.
“If that’s what it took. I don’t think of it as lying if all we’re doing is keeping it private.” You don’t know anyone like him who’s able to spin the truth however he wants it. You, on the other hand, feel horrible as soon as you think about lying. You once told a teacher that you couldn’t hand in your homework because a gnome from the garden had stolen it and you went to the bathroom and cried for half an hour. You hated lying and it made it so much worse that you had to lie to your sister, no matter how Draco spun it.
“I want to tell her. Before someone else does.” And so, you agree to meet that night and tell her together but you wish you would’ve done it alone.
“You’re dating Draco?” Her voice goes an octave higher for each syllable which would be pretty impressive in any other setting. Now, it just freaks you out.
“We didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I tried to stay away but I couldn’t just ignore how I felt,” you say trying to reason with her but it’s no use.
“I’m sure you tried real hard, you bitch.” You very rarely fight with your twin sister. You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve ever raised your voice at each other and it’s always been because you did everything you could to make her happy. She turned into the most horrible person when she was upset, you hardly recognised her.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Draco says. It’s the first thing he’s said since you sat down. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze to comfort you - an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Pansy.
“I’ll talk to my sister exactly how I want to talk to her,” she scuffs before returning her attention to you.
“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t break up with him right now. He’s meant to be with me.”
“Doesn’t he get a say in this?” you ask weakly. You don’t want to break up with Draco, but you also know she’s deadly serious when she says she’ll never forgive you. You’ve seen her hold onto grudges for years at a time.
“Well, you ruined any chance for me when you decided to claim him, didn’t you?” You know Draco is getting angrier by the second and it’s only a matter of time before he cracks and takes it all out on Pansy.
“I didn’t claim him, Pans. He made a choice, and I’m really sorry but I thought you’d be happy for me.” You stand up painfully slow hoping she’ll stop you but she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the year. When Christmas comes around, you invite Draco to spend the holidays with you and your family. You don’t tell him but you have a tiny hope that maybe if Pansy sees you and Draco together, she’ll realise just how much he means to you. You had no choice in loving Draco. Stubbornly and violently, it had filled your heart and mind until you had no choice but to act on it.
“You invited him?” Pansy asks noticing his suitcase. It’s the first words she’s spoken to you since you told her about you and Draco and they drip with venom.
“I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together all of us.” It’s the worst Christmas ever. Constantly, your mother has to stop Pansy from ripping into you and once you catch her trying to hex you but she misses you with mere inches. Your hands shake from anger but it’s not in you to yell back or try to retaliate. It must be possible to solve this without yelling.
“I really thought it might change her mind to see you and me together,” you admit on the final night before you have to return to Hogwarts. Your parents are downstairs and Pansy has already locked herself in her room. Merry Christmas...
“She’ll come around,” Draco says wrapping his arms around you. When you go to sleep that night, you toss and turn feeling the toll of the fight hitting you. It’s just getting too much. You don’t fall asleep until 2 am and when you wake, Draco is gone. You walk towards the bathroom to brush your teeth when you spot the most peculiar thing. The window in the hallway offers you a perfect view of Draco and Pansy sitting in the grass talking. When they return, Pansy hugs you tightly.
“I’ve been so horrible to you. Can you forgive me?” You’re speechless to say the least. Last night, she looked as if she were ready to bury the knife in your back and now she’s hugging you and asking if you can forgive her.
“Of course I forgive you.” You hug her again locking eyes with Draco who’s watching with a tiny smile. When you finally get him alone, you press to find out what he said to Pansy but he doesn’t budge.
“That’s a conversation between me and her,” he laughs as you pout. Half an hour of begging and still he refuses to talk.
“It’s not fair, I’d tell you. I tell you everything,” you argue.
“That’s because you’re horrible at keeping secrets,” Draco chuckles leaning in to kiss you but you refuse - at least until he tells you what he said to Pansy.
“You can’t reject me like that. Kiss me,” he huffs with furrowed eyebrows and you just can’t help yourself.
“Watch me.”
#HP Fandom#HP Crew#hp fanfiction#hp cast#hp#hp blurb#hp imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy blurb#draco malfoy gif#hp draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#Draco Malfoy
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Oksy so don’t feel like you have to do this but nesta and the kids go out grocery shopping and they bump into THOMAS FUCKING MANDARY and Nesta gets super overwhelmed but she’s got the kids and shit so she pretends she’s fine
But later cass comes home and the kids tell him what happens.
(and maybe they have a talk on important stuff about being with someone who loves you and if someone hurts you they don’t love you and it’s beautiful Idk)
Loving And Caring
Nessian modern au set in the The Seven Of Us universe (masterlist)
acotar next gen fan fiction
A/N: This is the reason I’m gonna fail my English exam, so please enjoy:)
The children’s ages: Ezra is 11, Cal is 6, Nora is 3 and Celia is 2. Andra is kinda not born yet.
DON’T COME FOR ME FOR BEING SLOW AS FUCK OR FOR WRITING SUCH ANGSTY PROMPTS. I HAVE 70+ IN MY ASKS BOX AND THEY’RE ALL SO ANSGTY
Word count: 8,185
"I want it!"
"I don't-"
"No, I want this!"
"I said I wanted it first."
"You did not!"
"Mom!"
Nesta Archeron had been called many things in her life. Daughter first. Then sister and friend, woman. She had been appreciated by all the professors she had had the honor of meeting during her studies, who had called her the best in her classes. She had finally found someone who had sincerely called her love and then wife, and she would not give up that last acquired, very important title of mom for anything in the world, but-
Right then she just wanted to strap her kids to the cart and run.
Walking down the cereal aisle, she ran a hand over her swollen, ready-to-burst belly, realizing that she would have to trip and fall on her bump if she wanted to end the problem for good. The baby girl, for whom they still hadn't chosen a name, would be born in a few weeks, and if she didn't get rid of her, too, she would never find peace.
She giggled - or at least she thought she did - at those morbid, disturbing thoughts for which many people would surely have her locked up in a mental hospital, if they found out how often she admitted to wanting to abandon her children.
It had been such a tiring day. She had been home from work for a couple of months now, this fifth pregnancy was breaking her down physically and mentally. She was at the end, in her eighth month, but she would much rather have the last baby out and inside the cart with her sisters by now.
Celia and Nora were babbling something in their imperfect language, and Nesta's heart clenched for her little men at the thought that they would be outnumbered in a few weeks. She and Cassian had experienced that feeling only three years before, and yet she still hadn't forgotten the terror she had felt at the idea of her children turning against them.
They had created a small army.
Casting a quick glance at Ezra who was sneaking something into the cart, she huffed. If the others noticed that he had put a package of junk food in the basket, that would be the end of it.
Moments later, in fact, Cal was looking at the colored bag in the still empty cart with suspicious eyes, and Nesta wasn't going to wait for the fight over who could buy the most junk food that day to begin.
"Ezra, put the snacks back," she said rubbing her hands over her eyes.
Celia mumbled something as she sat inside the cart, and Nora, silently settled next to her, nodded, as if she understood what the other was talking about. It shouldn't have shocked her, but Nesta never ceased to be amazed by that way of communicating that only the two of them understood.
Ezra's icy eyes turned sad when he looked at her and he pouted, "But mom I need them for snacks for school."
Cal looked at him with a furrowed brow, "No you don't. I need them." then he turned to Nesta, "But I don't like these, can I have those?" he asked with a bright smile pointing across the aisle with a wave of his arm.
She leaned forward, sighing and not answering him. Nora looked up at her and reached out her hands toward her mom, letting her know she wanted to be held, but Nesta was aching.
Cal and Ezra hadn't stopped bickering for half a second, and Celia had cried all day because she wanted her dada. Nora had stayed in Nesta's arms the entire walk to the grocery store, and one way or another she knew she would have to carry her all the way back home as well, despite the unbearable back pain. It was less than two kilometers, but with a pregnancy running out and only one hand to restrain any possible child who threatened to throw themselves under the cars whizzing by, it became more mental work than physical.
When Nesta smiled lovingly at her, trying to make her understand that she couldn't hold her right then, Cal burst into tears.
Her daughters' little heads snapped up at their brother, and Nesta cursed herself for deciding to do something as stupid as taking her four young children to the grocery store on an evening when they were all visibly on edge and stressed.
"Dear, what happened?" she asked without even an ounce of concern in her voice. She knew full well that it was just a tantrum. She got confirmation of that when Ezra replied in a whiny tone that they couldn't both buy snacks, or they wouldn't know how to carry them home. At that point Cal's cry became a proper scream and Nesta had to close her eyes to avoid the judgmental stares of the people passing by.
She brought her hands to her temples, massaging her forehead in circular motions, and when she thought she could handle it without throwing up on each of her children, she leaned against the cart, circling around Ezra and crouching with no small amount of difficulty in front of Cal. One hand on her back and the other still clinging to the cart, she grunted as she put one knee on the ground. She felt Nora's little hand rest on hers as she began to speak, "Listen kiddo, we're all very tired and now your brother is going to put his snacks down too," she explained, giving Ezra an inquisitive look over her shoulder. The eldest son rolled his eyes, but he had Celia hand him the package and snortingly put it back. Cal sobbed, sniffling, and Nesta laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging his arm. "How about we read a book together tonight before bed?"
The boy's face scrunched up in a grimace of sadness, "But I want snacks." he sobbed louder. Nesta bit her lip, knowing full well that the fat tears on his cheeks weren't really for the snacks and that she couldn't give in and let them all buy something or she'd end up with two bags full of junk food to carry.
Cal hadn't slept that afternoon, as had everyone else, because of Celia's endless crying, and she hadn't wanted to take her afternoon nap until it was too late and Nora and Cal had gotten out of bed to go play in their rooms. At that point Nesta had been forced to let Celia go, but she knew that had meant agreeing to spend an evening with frustrated and not-rested children.
She was about to respond when a couple of older ladies walked by them, casting an annoyed look at Cal. Nesta would have liked to respond with an ugly hand gesture, but she couldn't do it in front of her children.
In that moment of distraction she hadn't realized that Celia had also started calling her and now, casting a quick glance at her daughter, she felt a very bad feeling sink into her stomach at the sight of the little girl's tear-filled eyes.
She looked at Ezra, taking a deep breath, and noticed that even the oldest of her children seemed bothered by the course of action Nesta had taken. She felt tremendous guilt at seeing that the only one of her children who didn't seem disappointed or angry with her was Nora.
It all got worse when one of the two ladies who had just passed her said loud enough so she could hear her, "I don't understand why some people don't stop with their first child. It's obvious she can't even handle one, listen to her screaming."
Nesta felt the emotion grow in her throat.
"When someone isn't born to be a parent, it shows immediately. She's one of those awful mothers who doesn't know how to take care of her children." the other added.
Nesta caught her breath, fixing her gaze in Cal's. Celia was crying by now, spluttering to be picked up as she tried to keep her balance inside the cart.
She wasn't going to answer. She wasn't going to answer.
"Let's go home." she whispered suddenly, laying a hand on the small of her back and pulling herself up with a tremendous effort, a twinge of pain went through her legs and back, "Cal, dear, we'll buy the snacks another time, for now we'll just take the bread and milk, tomorrow come back with daddy and take whatever you want, okay?" she spoke quickly, in a high, steady voice so that all four of them could hear her. She just hoped they didn't hear how desperately she was trying not to burst into tears over what the ladies had just said.
Cal nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and immediately stopping crying. Ezra looked thoughtful, but he too had stopped pouting. The only one who still looked upset was Celia, who followed her by walking inside the cart, moving where she stood.
Seeing the little girl's red face and dripping nose, arms outstretched toward her, Nesta heard only the words "awful mother" repeated in her mind.
With a knot in her throat and a cry that she was sure would break free as soon as she stepped into the house, Nesta pushed forward, bumping the cart with her belly as she picked up Celia and placed her on her side. The little girl immediately stopped crying, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and cupping her tiny hand over her shirt.
Now, beyond the emotional wound that had just been inflicted on her, Nesta could feel the pain in her back growing with every step she took. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop a sob that threatened to break that composed attitude she had.
Everything hurt so bad.
Cal was running in front of them all, stomping his feet on the ground and making the little lights on his shoes glow. Ezra was walking beside her, one hand on the edge of the cart as he mouthed off to Nora, but he had to stop when Nesta froze in the middle of the aisle, taking an abrupt breath. She brought a hand to her belly, feeling the baby move and kick, only adding to the pain.
"Ezra, love," she breathed, stepping aside and holding Celia against her side, then asked between her teeth as the baby continued her assault inside her, "could you push the cart?"
He nodded, his face lighting up as if she had asked him to take control of a ship.
Celia began to squirm on her side and Nesta had the urge to drop her, not voluntarily, but it all hurt so much that her body was begging her to sit up, to take all that unnecessary weight off her arms.
At the idea that she would have to walk home she felt her eyes grow heavy with tears.
She put Celia back in the cart, breathing a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased in her lower back. Nora was now standing and smiling at Ezra, who was struggling to see where he was going past his sister.
Nesta looked up just as Cal hopped out of the aisle and fell to the ground, crashing into someone's cart. Or rather, as someone ran over him with their cart and slamming him to the ground.
She didn't even think about it as she started walking as fast as her body would allow towards her son, leaving the other three behind. By the time she reached him, Cal was standing there laughing in amusement and was running his hands over his pants to get the dust off his palms. Once she made sure he wasn't hurt, she was ready to yell at whoever had dropped her son, ready to take out all her frustration and doubts on the stranger, when she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.
"Nesta Archeron?"
She moved her head so fast she was surprised she hadn't snapped her neck, but her brain didn't have time to process the pain the jolt had caused her, because there standing before her was Tomas Mandray.
She couldn't believe it.
Any thought of yelling at the stranger vanished like an echo in her mind.
How was it possible that he was there?
"Is it really you?" he asked her with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on his face. He circled the cart, shifting his gaze to Cal, and Nesta felt the overwhelming instinct to grab her son and hide him behind her. When Tomas reached out a hand toward him, ruffling his hair, she felt vomit rise in her throat. They had to get out of that place immediately. "I can't believe it." he voiced her thoughts, "Is this yours?" he asked looking into her eyes again.
This... he was talking about Cal.
She couldn't find the words and continued to stare at the man in front of her with wide eyes - scared eyes, if you knew Nesta, if you knew where to look. And Tomas knew it. Tomas had always known it.
She heard Ezra reach them, and then something slammed into her side. She didn't need to lower her head to catch a glimpse of Nora's little pigtails of black hair or hear Celia's amused giggle.
Tomas snorted a laugh out of his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are they all yours?" then moved his gaze to her belly to bring it back up to her breasts and Nesta wanted to say something to him, to insult him, to hit him, to take him away from her children, but she felt her heart pounding in her throat and the air couldn't reach her lungs.
That tone-
That tone wasn't of someone who was happy to hear that you'd made a new life for yourself after they'd managed to destroy you completely. It wasn't the tone of an old friend who you hadn't seen in years and who you're about to agree to hang out with and tell them about everything that happened in your lives.
No, it was the tone he had used every day, every hour, when he needed to belittle her, when he needed to make her feel insignificant, worthless.
"Mom?"
Nesta turned her head so slowly toward her son, blinking, that she must have seemed like another person entirely. No longer the proud, strong woman she'd shown everyone for years on that side. Ezra had one eyebrow arched, as if wondering what was going on, and was clasping hands with a jumping Celia.
She didn't have the energy to turn around, to look at the man who had pushed her to the bottom of the barrel and destroyed her, but she managed to throw out a weak, "Kids we have to go, we're not taking anything." then turning to Cal, she took his arm, pulling him towards his siblings, "Let's go."
She felt Tomas' eyes creeping over her like slimy hands. She could still remember the last time he'd touched her, when she'd gone over the edge, offering herself to him to avoid yet another fight or worse.
For that, when his true hand tightened around her wrist, pulling her slightly to let her stay there, she flinched.
"Nesta."
She spun around, bringing her free hand to her belly for protection. When the little girl inside her kicked again, making her groan through her teeth in pain, Tomas smiled in a way that made Nesta hope she was anywhere but there.
"Is she kicking?"
And then it all happened quickly. She couldn't move, couldn't pull away, as the grip on her wrist tightened and Tomas pulled her closer to him and placed his other hand on her stomach, next to hers. A soundless sob escaped her control and her breath labored as she felt his fingers move over her shirt.
She was going to throw up.
She gave a tug so hard that the twinge of pain started at her wrist and reached her elbow, but she was free. She smacked the hand on her, taking several steps back and bringing Cal with her. She had started pushing the front of the cart, trying to position it in the direction they had come from.
She met Ezra's gaze for a moment, before her son's eyes slipped behind her, on Tomas' figure.
"Ezra." she called to him in a firm voice. Four pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. That was the tone of a tired mother issuing orders to her children at the end of the day, "Eyes on me."
She didn't want anything of Tomas's to come into contact with her children. She didn't want him to contaminate them the way he had contaminated her.
She lifted Cal off the ground and the child quietly let her pick him up without too much of a fuss. She didn't feel the strain at all as she pulled him high enough to put him in the cart with the girls. Looking at her oldest, she hoped she could secure him like she was doing with the other three, but he was too big to fit in the cart himself.
Before she could tell him to follow her without saying a word, Tomas spoke again.
"What a beautiful name, Ezra," she felt the venom bind each letter.
Ezra was about to turn around, probably to thank him, as she and Cassian had taught him, but Nesta squeezed his shoulder, "Keep looking ahead and walking, I don't want you talking to him."
"Always so fucking obnoxious," Tomas spat at that point.
Nesta froze in her tracks. She could feel him following them as he tortured her. Ezra froze beside her, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.
Always so obnoxious. You're useless, worthless. I'm the only person who will ever be able to put up with your bullshit. You'll never find anyone else.
She felt the panic rise, the agitation for one of her children to realize how uncomfortable she was at that moment. She closed and opened her hands on the cart's handlebars, hoping to relieve some of that tension.
"I'm amazed to see you with so many children," he continued, creeping up beside her and stopping in front of her cart, blocking her way with his. She looked up at him, feeling the air scratch at her throat. He had aged, she could see it in the features around his eyes, his mouth - he had aged and yet still had the same look. "I didn't think you'd ever date again after I left you."
I left you. She wanted to tell him. I had the courage to leave.
She didn't answer him, straightening her back.
Tomas smirked, lowering his gaze to her daughters and his smile widened even more.
"Don't look at them," she snapped, still maintaining her composure.
The man looked up at her one more time, "They'll be just as pretty as their mother when they grow up." then looked at Cal and Ezra, sliding a finger over the edge of his cart. "Who's the father?"
"Dada." muttered Celia, flapping her little hands.
Nesta wanted to recoil at the sound. She didn't want Tomas to hear her talk, didn't want him to watch them. She didn't want them breathing his same air.
"It's none of your business and now move over," she whispered to him. All she could think about was the fact that she had to get her children out of there as soon as possible. Therefore, when he didn't move an inch, she added. "Please."
Tomas laughed. He laughed, leaning his head back and clutching his hand around the mesh of her cart. "Nessie Nessie," he clicked his tongue on his palate, a remnant of laughter in the tone of his voice that made the woman's gut tangle, "I haven't seen you in so long. I want to know everything."
"Please." she repeated, as her eyes filled with tears. His own widened slightly, surprised to see such a reaction in her. She didn't care if he saw her weak, she didn't care if she had to get down on her knees. He was keeping them trapped, and Nesta knew he wouldn't let them leave until he squeezed even the last drop of sanity out of her.
If Ezra still realized what was going on, she didn't know, and it scared her even more. Cal was looking at her and looked worried, probably having never seen her so shaken in her life.
She was about to beg him a third time. Beg him to free her from whatever that game was that they were stuck in at that moment, but someone said her name. Ezra looked behind them and Nesta saw the shadow of a smile on his face, prompting her to turn around in turn. A choked sound escaped her throat as she bit her upper lip to keep from bursting into tears, and a wave of gratitude washed over her.
"Miss Archeron," the man smiled at her. Drakon Cretea had been Nesta and Cassian's neighbor for years now. He and his wife Myriam had babysat their children so many times that they were their go-to people. In fact, Celia and Nora had snapped to their feet at the sound of the voice of the acquired grandfather they loved so much.
Nesta didn't waste a moment turning the cart so that it faced Drakon. The children, Ezra included, began to cheer happily at having met a familiar face, and Nesta allowed herself to look over her shoulder.
With such relief that she thought she might collapse to the ground, she saw that Tomas was already pulling away, and as he turned the corner, pulling into another aisle, she took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes.
She had made it.
***
Cassian was exhausted.
He had spent the entire day grading exams for first-year students with his aide, and it was as if he could see the letters behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was much more feasible to work in the university library, where he didn't risk being interrupted by a child every five minutes, but he only tried to do it once or twice a month during exam sessions, knowing full well how exhausting it was for Nesta to keep up with all the children together until late in the evening, especially now that Andra was about to arrive.
"Andra." he murmured into the silence of his car. Nesta kept telling him that they weren't sure that would be the name of their fifth child, but Cassian didn't care. He just needed to name his wife's belly when talking to his daughter.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off the car in the driveway and stepped out, stretching his arms up just enough to make his back crack.
Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he huffed. It was too late for his girls to still be awake, but maybe he'd be able to say goodnight to Cal and Ezra.
He had warned Nesta that he was going to be late, and she had simply replied that she would leave dinner ready in the kitchen for when he returned.
Opening the front door, he immediately saw two little dark heads popping up from above the couch. Cal was already running at him when he closed the door behind him and jumped on him as soon as he had put his stuff down, "Dad!"
"Kiddo!" said Cassian throwing him into the air.
Cal laughed waving his arms, "Sssh," he scolded him still laughing, "the girls are sleeping."
"Oops," dad made a guilty face, stopping their game and putting Cal down.
Ezra was too focused on watching TV and wasn't paying the slightest attention to Cassian, but he walked over to the couch anyway, lowering himself just enough so he could leave a kiss on his hair, "Hi love." he murmured to him.
The little boy's head snapped toward him and with a crooked smile on his face and his pajama collar in his mouth, he said, "Hi dad."
Cassian scoffed amused, ripping his pajamas from between his teeth, "How many times have I told you not to eat your clothes?"
"Sorry," Ezra said, not sounding sorry at all.
Cal had gone back to lying next to his brother and they both seemed too caught up in the cartoon to pay any attention to it, so he went into the kitchen, loosening the tie around his neck and praying that Nesta had cooked something good - though the opposite was quite unlikely considering the woman's innate cooking skills.
He moaned with delight when he realized it was the meatballs she always made when she didn't feel like cooking and, taking the plate, he headed back to the living room. He plopped down in between his sons, taking the pajamas out of Ezra's mouth again and offering them both a meatball.
"So, what have you guys been up to today?" asked Cassian with a full mouth, slipping off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.
First Cal and then Ezra told him in full detail about what they had done at school and then about the fact that none of them had slept that afternoon. Cassian was surprised to find out that Cal could still stand up without getting any rest.
When they got to the point where Nesta had taken them out walking and they had made it all the way to the supermarket, he had stopped them.
"Guys come on," he looked at them with incredulous eyes, "I told you to keep her home."
It was true. Lately Nesta had been pushing her limits when the doctors had told her to exert herself and stress as little as possible. With childbirth imminent too, it was risky for her to walk around without any other adults.
Ezra had the decency to look guilty, "I know, but-"
"We also met a weird dude," Cal interrupted him.
Cassian looked at him taking on a confused expression, "Weird?"
"Yeah, he knew mom," Ezra nodded, looking at the TV and talking thoughtlessly. He was bowing his head slowly and Cassian unconsciously extended a hand towards him, shutting his mouth before he could start chewing on the fabric once again. He looked at him at that point, continuing the story, "Mom was all weird, though."
"Weird." repeated Cassian.
"Yeah, weird." repeated Cal in turn, then chuckled, "He even hit me with the cart."
He and Ezra laughed together, remembering how Cal had fallen on his bum, but Cassian's thoughts were elsewhere. Clearly the fact that someone had rolled his son with a cart must not have been traumatic or painful, or Nesta would have called him and Cal wouldn't have been there laughing, but the fact that they had described her with an adjective like "weird" had him on high alert.
"Do you happen to know the man's name?" asked Cassian, pulling himself up and setting his plate down on the coffee table, keeping his gaze on his hands.
Ezra shook his head, "No, also because mom didn't talk to him much and then Drakon showed up."
"Oh, yeah," Cal repeated excitedly, his eyes glowing, "then Drakon showed up."
Cassian was on his feet before his youngest son had finished speaking. He started up the stairs to go upstairs, where he hoped he would find Nesta awake, but warned the two little men that he would go change and be back down to them in a jiffy.
With a strained expression and a bad feeling working its way through him, he walked down the hall, opening the door to his daughters' room slightly. Both Celia and Nora were already fast asleep, and Cassian felt a smile break out on his lips... his little gems. He couldn't believe yet another one would be arriving soon.
He closed the door, making sure not to make any noise, and then headed to his room, praying that Nesta was okay and that his children had misunderstood everything.
He heard her before he even entered. He could picture her pacing back and forth through their room, muttering about what was bothering her at the moment.
He took a deep breath, ready to fight whatever demons there would be to fight that night together, and tightening his hand around the doorknob, he lowered it, pushing himself into the room.
Nesta stopped short, both hands wrapped under her belly to help support that extra weight she was always complaining about.
The second Cassian's eyes found hers, her expression completely transformed and a desperate sob broke the silence that had formed between them.
"Nesta." he said as if someone had just sucked the air from his lungs. Reaching for her with two quick strides and wrapping her in his arms, Cassian heard all kinds of emotion in his wife's crying.
When he stroked her back, Nesta let go a wail of pain and he immediately pulled away, still keeping his hands around her elbows as much as her cold hands tightened around his forearms.
"God, Nesta what happened?"
She only cried harder, loosening her grip on him when she was sure he wouldn't pull away. She managed to say between sobs, "Everything hurts."
Cassian felt as if the floor has cracked open beneath them. "Is it the baby?"
Nesta's eyes went wide, probably only realizing at that moment what state he'd found her in, "No, she's fine." then, seeing his increasingly worried expression, she added, "I promise the baby's fine."
Cassian sagged at little, reducing his lips to a thin line, gently pushed her towards the bed to get her to sit up, but Nesta shook her head, taking short, overly fast breaths, "I can't."
Cassian paused, taking her hands and trying to restrain himself from asking her who they had met that afternoon that had managed to trigger such a reaction in her. There was no way she could have been in that state just from being tired.
"I can't." repeated Nesta sobbing and looking into his eyes. "Everything hurts, Cassian."
He sighed, closing his eyes. Seeing her in this state was nothing new unfortunately. With four pregnancies behind them and everything they'd been through in the years prior to their marriage, it wasn't unusual for either of them to be in such a condition.
He opened his eyes, trying to keep a firm tone, "How come you can't sit down?"
"If I sit the pain gets worse." she said between choked breaths.
Cassian furrowed his brow, wanting to yell at her about how stupid it had been of her to go walking that afternoon, but he restrained himself. "Have you tried lying down?" he proposed.
Nesta shook her head again, "Any position hurts my back or my legs," she explained.
"Tell you what," he began hesitantly, taking both of her hands, "why don't you put on those super pants that support your belly - or I'll help you put them on, it's no problem," he added quickly when he saw the pain in her features, "and then I'll give you a leg massage while you're standing?" he said smiling at her coyly. Nesta sniffed, nodding slowly. "And when sitting doesn't hurt anymore or is bearable you get on your knees on the bed or lean against the keyboard and I massage your back too, are you up for that?"
She squeezed his hands to let him know she was okay with everything, so Cassian smiled at her, returning the squeeze and starting to pull away from her to go get the leggings, but Nesta's eyes went wide and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, "Where are you going?"
Cassian grimaced worriedly.
Why hadn't she called him if she was feeling this bad?
He moved back as close as he could without crushing Andra between them, "I was just going to get my pajamas, Nes, and your pants." he placed a hand on her face, stroking away the remnants of her crying. Then he sighed, pushing her forehead into his and keeping his eyes open as he whispered, "I love you."
She repeated it quietly, almost a sigh.
He undressed quickly, slipping into his pajamas with equal haste as Nesta stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting for him to return to her.
"Listen," Cassian began, kneeling in front of her as he helped her out of the pajama pants she was wearing, "the boys told me you met someone today." he forced himself to look at her, when the grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. Cassian studied the reaction he'd elicited from her and bit the inside of his cheek, seeing how Nesta had frozen and put her foot down. He took a deep breath, giving her knee a little tap to let her know she needed to get it back up, "They didn't tell me who it was and I don't think they know, but I got some ideas and I want-" he swallowed loudly, thinking seriously about what might have happened if his doubts were real, "If it's Tomas, I want to know if you're okay." he said in a lower voice, looking at her from under his lashes. Nesta didn't answer.
He had managed to get both of her feet into her pants and was pulling them up gently, trying not to hurt her. He had to pull up the skirt of the robe she used during all her pregnancies when none of her pajamas fit anymore, uncovering her belly and left a gentle kiss on her skin, smiling at his daughter, "Hello my little sunshine."
He felt Nesta shiver and thinking it was from the cold he hurried to cover her belly with her pants and then pull her nightgown down.
He looked at her more seriously than ever as he settled on the floor in front of her so he could massage her into a comfortable position. He was about to speak, to ask her again how she was doing, but she beat him to it.
"What did you do today?" she asked in a weak voice.
Cassian closed his mouth, bouncing his legs, pondering whether to insist that she spoke or let her distract him with that question. He decided for the latter, even though his wife already knew very well what he had done that day, "This morning there was an exam of Ancient History for the first years." he began to speak while pressing his thumbs on her left thigh. Nesta was leaning her hands on his shoulders. "I have to be honest, I've never seen exams as crappy and ignorant as this session's," he continued while keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "It's like people stopped studying all of a sudden and thought they could pass my exams by learning the bare minimum."
He shifted on her other thigh and Nesta snapped forward, groaning softly as Cassian touched a particularly numb muscle.
"Sorry." he smiled at her, "Then at lunch I stayed in the faculty with Gwyn and Luc, and by the way, they asked me if you'd be okay with organizing a lunch this weekend, with everyone?"
Nesta rolled her eyes, "I can't even walk, let alone plan a lunch with everyone," she pointed out to him in an irritated tone.
Cassian chuckled, "I'll let Gwyn know you told her to fuck off nicely."
"Yes, thank you," she replied to him. But then she bit her lip, thoughtfully, "But if they want to do something at her or Elain's that's fine. I can also cook, but not here, please, I don't feel like tidying up afterwards." she looked into his eyes with a pleading look.
"It's okay, it's not a problem," he shifted to her calves, "Although, if the only problem has to be the fact that you don't feel like tidying up, you know I wouldn't let you."
Nesta grunted, "I don't want you to do all the work yourself."
Cassian let out a puff of air through his nostrils, "You can't be the only one working hard in this house Nes, let me have some of the glory too." he joked.
"But I'm not the only one." she said in an overly serious tone, "You're always at work and I know you're working overtime, filling in for your colleagues, don't think I haven't noticed," she scolded him. Cassian lowered his head, feeling his cheeks turn red. "And I'm here at home and I can't work and I've been like this for months now and even before that with Celia-" she sighed, bringing a hand to her face, "I just wish I could help you bring something extra home."
Cassian stopped massaging her leg, surprised at what he was hearing. He moved away from her, enough so that he could stand up without bumping into her stomach and then looked at her, shaking his head, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, "Nesta you're raising our children. You're doing a much more tiring and exhausting job than mine ever will be." he pulled himself upright, "True, it's just as rewarding and enjoyable to be able to stay home and watch our children grow up, but you're the biggest help I could ever get right now. We don't need money right now."
"But-"
"No buts." he said arching his eyebrows and pushing her towards the bed, "Do you think you can sit?" she nodded pensively and let him help her up onto the mattress. "Nesta what you're doing is admirable and I'm sure not everyone could handle it as well as you can."
Nesta stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look at him with a shocked expression.
Cassian was just as shocked. That she didn't realize how much she was actually helping him was beyond comprehension.
"I can only get by because you're there," she murmured, looking away, "I'd never make it on my own."
"And no one expects you to make it, Nes." he said stunned. He really couldn't understand where all the doubt was coming from, "You don't have to make it on your own and you're not doing it on your own."
He had her settled so that her back was to him and she was turned to the wall. He placed his hands over her back and began to make concise circles on the bottom, applying pressure where he knew the pain was most concentrated. Nesta's head fell forward in relief.
"You really don't think you're helping me in any way?"
"No, I-" she froze mid-sentence, "It's not that."
"Then what is it?" he asked, using his knuckles to massage her shoulder muscles.
Nesta groaned softly, "It's just that I wish I could go back to work and read all the books I want and I wish I could feel tired and be able to let my kids cry without anyone telling me what to do and how to do it. I wish I could move without the terror of going into labor at any moment and-" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I wish I wasn't so hormonal right now."
He could tell that her thoughts were all over the place.
There had been other such crises during Celia's pregnancy. The fear that they wouldn't measure up as parents to so many children. They were in constant thought that they were not giving them enough, that they were teaching them the wrong lessons. Cassian had received some nasty comments himself about how they were raising their children, and he knew right away that someone must have said something to Nesta that day.
They had always had stronger, more heartfelt reactions on her, and now that she was pregnant it was all much more altered.
"What happened today?" he asked her under his breath after a few moments of silence.
"No one slept, I didn't have a moment's peace and then we left and walked to the mall. I had to carry Nora all the way there and-" her voice broke on the last sentence and Cassian stopped his ministrations on her. He laid both hands on her back, getting as close as he could, letting his hands slide down her hips and then over her belly, until his chest made contact with her back and Nesta pushed back against him.
She dropped her head onto Cassian's shoulder.
"And?" he murmured, spurring her on.
"Everything hurt so much, Cass," she replied in a watery voice, "It was like I was being stabbed in the back and I couldn't put Nora down because she'd start crying."
A sharp twinge of pain shot through his chest. He began to gently massage her belly and shortly after he felt her small hands settle on his, pushing harder, "No one would try to say you're a bad mother just because you don't pick up your daughter when you're hurting."
She didn't answer.
"Celia?" he asked.
"Ezra and Cal held her hand the whole way, she walked so much," she said with a half smile on her face. "When we walked in they immediately started acting up and then they started crying and I couldn't take it anymore and these ladies said I was an awful mother and it's true, Cassian." she jerked in his arms as she said those last words. He only held her tighter, taking a deep breath. "Who is the mother who can't calm her own children when they cry? Her own children." she shook her head, running a hand under her eyes.
He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had started crying again.
"Nesta listen to me." he whispered to her, kissing her shoulder and then the tip of her ear. "You are the most loving and caring mother I know. Your children are perfectly healthy and you've never let them lack for anything. You've never raised your voice to them. You've never threatened them or grounded them-"
"I'm not a monster," she muttered.
"And more importantly," he said smiling and holding her tighter, "your children are happy."
"But Cal today-"
"Cal is downstairs watching TV with his brother and he's been telling me about his day and he's the happiest kid ever," he interrupted her, "Just because he threw a tantrum and cried a little doesn't mean you're not a good mother."
She sighed and nodded, though she didn't look convinced.
Cassian continued to stroke the spots on her belly where he knew her skin pulled the most, her hand still on his playing with the wedding ring on his finger when Nesta said, "I saw Tomas today."
Cassian froze behind her, holding his breath. He'd known it, but hearing the fear in her voice now as she said the name of the man Cassian hated most in the world didn't stop him from wincing.
"He bumped Cal with the cart and knocked him over and I didn't realize it was him until he called me," Nesta continued.
When Cassian spoke, his voice came out much harsher and tighter than he intended, "Did he-" he cleared his throat, "Did he say anything?"
"No, he-" Nesta brought both hands to her stomach, shifting his. She moved uncomfortably in his arms and Cassian loosened his grip on his wife, realizing she wanted to move. He grabbed her by the hips, trying to pull her up so she could turn toward him, and when she was finally sitting up with her back against the headboard of the bed, she sighed. "I saw him, Cass, and I froze." she said under her breath, looking into his eyes. "He touched Cal's hair and it was like he was touching me, again, and I completely froze and then the baby kicked and he touched my-" she took a ragged breath as her eyes filled with tears. When she spoke again, her voice was so weak that Cassian had to appeal to every ounce of his reasoning not to get up and go find Tomas to kill him.
He took her hands, remaining silent as a revolting feeling took over his body. The idea of Nesta being touched by that filthy man made his guts turn. The idea of his children-
A choked sob brought him back into the room, "And I wanted him to go and stop looking at Ezra and Celia and Nora and I could only move when Ezra called me, but he followed us and blocked our way. He asked me about you, wanted to know who you were, and it was like going back in time and I couldn't- I couldn't, Cass-" Nesta brought a hand to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide as panic appeared in her gaze and air struggled to reach her lungs.
Cassian squeezed her hands, speaking softly, "Nesta, it's okay." a sob from her, "You're all home." he murmured starting to massage her palm, "You're home with me."
Her breathing became even more erratic and she shook her head, closing her eyes.
Cassian closed his eyes as well, "I'm sorry you had to see him again and I'm sorry you couldn't move, but it's understandable, sweetheart." he was trying to keep his tone of voice relatively low, to calm her down, but it was proving difficult for him as he viewed Tomas watching his daughters. "He shouldn't have touched your belly. He shouldn't have just touched you at all. And he shouldn't have gotten close to Cal or Andra." he seethed. "And if I could I would go to him and rip his hands off." he let slip as he imagined the terror Nesta must have felt at that moment.
Nesta sobbed and the sound broke Cassian's heart, "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."
A pang of pain tightened in his chest as his face turned into a mask of controlled anger, "Don't ever apologize to me, please," he whispered, "Not for this stuff."
"But I couldn't do anything, even after all this time-" a hiccup broke the sentence, "He still has all this power over me. It's not fair."
It's not fair.
Cassian nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, "You're right, it's not fair." he squeezed her hands lightly, telling her to look at his face. She quickly did so. "You're not with him anymore. You're free. You don't owe him anything, just like you never owed him anything." Nesta took a shaky breath, stopping sobbing. "You have a family, you're a wonderful mother and wife. And you deserve all of this."
Nesta's eyes went wide, realizing where this was going.
Cassian took a deep breath, "You're not worthless, you're not hopeless or useless." he closed his eyes as Nesta mimicked him, breathing deeply in turn. "You are a strong, independent woman, it doesn't matter how much he said otherwise. It didn't matter before and it doesn't matter now. It's just meaningless words.
"I know you, Nesta, and you are the light of my life. The light of every person in this house. The only thing that keeps us going." he whispered in a weak voice, as Nesta leaned forward toward him and cried silently.
Cassian moved closer to her on the mattress so that she could rest her forehead against his chest, his shoulder, wherever she wanted, for support.
He had repeated those words to her so many times over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have to do it again, certainly not after so long that they both knew Tomas had moved to another continent entirely.
"I know you and you're nothing like he describes," he encircled her shoulders with arms when Nesta let go of a particularly loud sob. "You are the exact opposite of what he says." he kissed one temple, stroking the hair on her back.
She shivered in his arms, "I know." she whispered against his shirt.
Cassian managed to force a smile onto his lips, even though she couldn't see it, he knew she would hear it when he spoke, "I'm proud of you."
"Why?"
"Because I can only imagine how hard it was for you to see him again, and although I would have appreciated a different approach to everything that happened this afternoon, you handled it perfectly and our kids are fine." he passed his hands over her shoulders and pushed her away from him so he could look at her face. "And it's okay that you broke down now, it's normal. I'm glad you told me about it. Thank you." he spoke against her lips.
She smiled, breathing a laugh through her tears, "I love you."
"I love you." repeated Cassian, sighing. He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb under her eye, before kissing her. No rush or force, just pure, raw emotion as their lips caressed in a desperate kiss.
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FULL REVIEWS: “Lost In Language”
Lost in language and I don't know much. Was I thinking aloud and fell out of touch? But I'm back on my feet and eager to be what you wanted.
Seriously? Nothing? You guys have never heard Air Supply? I mean, they’re old AF but still. It’s a funny pun. Whatever.
Back in the day (like it was so long ago) I didn’t know what to expect from this episode. The only thing I caught from the description was library, but hoo boy, we got so much more!
I love the cold opens to this show. It always reminds me that Luz is a silly ass hyper fangirl who still wants life to play out like it does on TV.
“Learning about love and life through the eyes of a child.”
Spoken like a true person who have never done any actual babysitting. The Bat Queen gets her own soft intro for another episode, which I’m noticing more and more re-watching this show. She pays Eda to watch her baby in exchange for a butt-ton of money. Eda, in classic Eda fashion, would rather not split the cash with Luz and gives her an errand to run so she doesn’t have to do it.
I don’t know about you guys, but liked going to the library when I was a kid. It was the only way I could play computer games or go on the internet. Getting online is the easiest thing in the world today, but when I was a kid, it was a luxury my parents couldn’t afford. And dumb-dumb kid me didn’t know that you can borrow movies and comic for free at the library too. That’s how I saw Jaws for the first time.
The library at The Boiling Isles is almost exactly what I expected. Kinda like the Hogwarts library, but with a lot more teeth and eyes everywhere. Luz has a bunch of fun just messing around, until she stumbles upon the cutest goddamn thing ever!
Amity reading to kids at the public library in her free time. My god.
I’m with Luz here. Holy hell, I did not see that coming. I thought Amity was the rival character, the Draco Malfoy of the show, the reluctant ally, the jerk with the heart of gold DEEP in there somewhere. Instead she’s at the Kid’s Corner reading her favorite childhood classic to toddlers. I didn’t know there were angels in the demon realm.
Stop. Stop! You’re already cute.
Seriously this moment made me go “aw” and laugh at the same time. It was weird. Also how does this library have a manga section? Do they import these books from JAPAN in the HUMAN REALM? Is there a publishing company that acts as the middleman? Or are these just the books that the trash slugs ended up barfing on the beach somewhere? I’m thinking too hard about a throwaway joke in the background. Big brain hurt.
AND back to reality...
Luz tries to extend the hand of friendship to Amity and Amity rejects it. I have...thoughts.
First, they this up with another parallel to Azura in the beginning of the episode. I get it. It’s a theme that they are doing, but I would have rather have Luz try to befriend Amity because she wants to, not because Azura did it. It’s not the only reason she does it, but it does kinda bug me a bit. It kinda goes back to Luz wanting life to play out like a story.
Also, a part of me thinks that this is something Amity likes to do alone. Her way of getting away from everyone else and just do something that she enjoys and makes her feel good. We have no proof that it gives her extra credit, so she could just use that as a way to save face. She seemed so happy to do it too.
Finally, you know what this else this reminds me of? The Karate Kid and Cobra Kai. There’s a popular fan theory that has been around since the eighties that if you look at The Karate Kid from the rival’s perspective, the protagonist is the bully. I’m more than sure that’s what going on here. From Amity’s perspective, Luz just gets her into trouble. We’ll get more into that later.
Luz walks off dejected and we get the second big surprise to punch me in the face.
Holy hell, why the fuck are you two so goddamn fucking pretty? I mean, holy shit, look at these two. My god. And ERICA LINDBECK as Emira? Jesus Christ, I’m going to be feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling in places I can’t say!
Joking aside, we get one of our first full introductions that didn’t come with a soft intro from a previous episode. Enter Emira and Emira, Amity’s older siblings who in true sibling fashion like to give Amity a hard time.
“Hey, mittens!”
This seems normal at first. Siblings always rib each other. No big deal.
Amity storms off. The twins introduce themselves proper to Luz (and the audience) and they mess around for a bit.
In fact, they have so much fun messing around with Luz that they decide to invite her back afterhours to check out The Wailing Star. Luz thinks that this is a great way to get on Amity’s good side by befriending her siblings. Why she would think this I have no idea.
Meanwhile the B-plot continues its adventures in babysitting. I don’t like using the word filler (so I won’t) but this B-plot is really just for two things: setting up Escape of the Palisman and jokes. It does both. No harm, no foul.
Also the twins said for Luz to meet back at midnight and Luz was at The Owl House for like a hot second. There’s like a huge gap of time there. What did she do until midnight? Whatever. If it was important it would have been animated.
Also also, I love all of Luz’s little saying in this episode. She does it a lot but they cranked it up in this episode. Featuring great hits like:
“This sour lemon drop has a hidden sweet center.”
and
“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”
and my favorite
“Call me a library book because they were checking me out.”
I hope they keep doing that.
Back at the literal Wailing Star (I laughed so hard), The twins and Luz discover that The Wailing Star brings the content of the books to life. Does that work for all books in The Boiling Isles or just the library? Enough. No more big brain. The three proceed to...mess around some more.
The twins discover offscreen (Really? Really.) that if you edit the contents of the book, you change what comes to life. Then the twins reveal their true objectives. Apparently, Amity has been tattling on the twins whenever they cut class or do whatever it is that they want. They’ve decided to look for her secret little hideaway (that they somehow know is in the library), find her diary and post all the pages all over school to teach her a lesson.
Um, fucking no.
And here we enter the true lesson of this episode and probably the reason why Hecate is draw with two faces. People being more than just what they appear to be at face value.
Amity appears to be the bully character of the show, and while she did bully Willow, Luz and King, there’s more to her than that. Amity is lonely. As a fellow person who grew up lonely, trust me. I can tell from a mile away. She puts pressure on herself to be the best at whatever she’s doing and to be the best. She hates that she follows the rules but people like her siblings seem to get rewarded for breaking the rules and doing whatever they want free of consequence. She sees the double standard that they live by and it angers her. But at the same time, everyone seems to give the twins a free pass so she can’t do anything about it.
Even worse, there’s no one for her to confide in. It wouldn’t make it better but it would make it easier for her to just vent and get the bullshit out of her brain. She doesn’t like her friends and the one friend she did like...that’s for another episode. Hence, the diary. Amity is a big ball of frustration and loneliness. I know because I grew up in a very similar way.
When you’re forced to keep your anger inside you, you lash out at any little thing that bothers you just to ease your frustrations. It doesn’t make it okay but it’s the only way to cope sometimes just to get by.
The twins on the other hand seem like everything you’d want in a friend. They’re fun; they like you; they’re attractive; they’re attentive. But in reality, they live in a world where they believe consequences and accountability don’t apply to them. And they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even humiliate their sister.
Luz seems like a happy-go-lucky, friends to all things kinda person, but she can also be innocently insensitive. She just does things hoping they turn out the way they would for Azura without considering how the people around her would feel about it.
It doesn’t make any of these characters two-faced. We just are different things to different people.
Amity discovers what’s going down and Luz (being the empathic person that she is) decide to try to go talk to her.
Then I’m reminded that this is a horror-comedy.
My god, you’re ugly.
One climax later (don’t laugh), and Luz and Amity try to make amends with each other. They both have to think about how they’ve been treating the other, earning the title of bully or not. They’re not friends yet but this is...better.
FINAL SCORE: 5 - Loved it.
Damn, The Owl House is one a roll. That’s what? Three 5 scored episodes already? Hot damn. This episode was fun but it really hit hard with the character work on Amity. She quickly became one of the most interesting characters and a fan favorite. And the third act provided a good amount of horror to call this a horror comedy. The B-plot is fine but probably one of the weakest only saved by several funny jokes. This is one of those episodes I kept coming back to and a favorite to watch.
Could you two please not? I’m gonna get in trouble.
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