#i was suffering in tower control last month. it was bad

[the-magpie-collective]

Let's talk about how Ulder Ravengard was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year when he finally runs into Wyll, for the first time in seven years, and his son is now definitely maybe sort of a devil?

Look, D&D cannon is absolutely wild and inconsistent but I need ya'll to know approximately how many horrible things befell Ulder Ravengard in the few months right before the events of Baldur's Gate 3.

Ulder Ravengard goes to Elturel. This is fairly normal. He often had to travel as a Duke for diplomatic reasons to nearby cities. Sure, the Vanthampurs' had their fingers pulling the strings this time to ensure he went, but that is also, unfortunately, normal. And it's not like anyone else can go in his place. Who would he send? Portyr whose only use is as a windsock? Stelmane who is suffering from the long term effects of a "stroke"? Vanthampur?

(Portyr, Stelmane, and Vanthampur being the other four dukes at the time)

So he goes and it's supposed to just be another diplomatic trip to a neighboring city. Except exactly nothing goes to plan. The Vanthampurs have made an alliance with devils and a deal with the leaders of Elturel to orchestrate the fall of the entire city into Avernus. Ulder Ravengard is there with several of the Flaming Fist when the entire city is plunged into hell. And no, Avernus is not some sort of cushy vacation spot. There's a reason why Karlach would rather die than go back. There's a reason why it is called hell.

It's not hard to imagine he watches many of the Flaming Fist get slaughtered. People he's worked with for years, maybe even decades. People he called friends. Not hard to think that he watches innocents suffer as they are preyed upon by devils and demons, children slaughtered in the streets all while he is helpless to stop it from happening. It's not out of the question to think this is possibly one of the worst times in his life. Oh, Ulder Ravengard has been through numerous disasters before. He's watched countless friends die. But when has he ever been so helpless as the time he was caught in an entire city of relative innocents as it is dragged down to the hells?

It gets worse.

You see, Ulder Ravengard is put into a catatonic state by the Demon Lord Baphomet using the the Helm of Torm's sight. The Helm of Torm's sight is a holy item that allows the user to commune with Torm (god of Duty, Loyalty, etc). In a last ditch effort to save the city of Elturel, Ulder Ravengard attempted to get to the Helm in the hopes that it could be used to fight back. Instead he gets to watch as his hope is perverted and used against him. He gets to see himself fall helpless and under control of the demon while his men are slaughtered in the attack.

We don't know how Ulder Ravengard escapes this situation (*cough* play Descent into Avernus *cough*) but somehow he does. After weeks of fighting in the hells (maybe even months?) and narrowly escaping with his life and mind intact Ulder Ravengard is hurrying back to Baldur's Gate as quickly as he can. He knows the city is in danger, whether the Vanthampurs' succeeded at seizing power or not. And on the way home he gets ambushed by fucking goblins and drow working together. He gets to see as some of the few survivors who made it through their time in Avernus with him, get killed. He gets to see his close friend and advisor Counselor Florrick get trapped in a burning building.

Then he's kept imprisoned, and likely harassed, in the dungeons of Moonrise towers. All he hears is 'the Absolute' this and 'the Absolute' that. Then what does he know but apparently the mastermind behind this whole thing is fucking Gortash, the slimy counselor he has spent the past while doing his best to ignore because even if he didn't like him and thought most of his ideas were bad he couldn't actually do anything to get rid of him. And then Orin—a fucking Bhaalspawn—uses him for a chair while Ketheric Thorm goes on a whiny oh-woe-is-me rant and Gortash sticks a tadpole in his eye all while mocking him.

He then gets to spend the next while under control of the Absolute. We don't know how unpleasant this is, but we do know that when the Absolute controls someone directly their brain starts bleeding so severely they collapse and die after less than a minute :) and when he's finally freed from the Absolute he has chronic migraines so yeah not fucking pleasant :)))))

And then his son rescues him. Yay. His son who he strove to teach right from wrong all those years. His son to whom he imparted the four pillars: strategy, courage, justice, insight. His son, who, despite everything he has ever taught him chose to throw all of his promise away to a devil. And he doesn't know why and maybe he hopes that there was a good reason behind it all, but he does know that he lost any chance he had to ever be able to fully trust his son again because he doesn't know the terms of the pact and he can't know the full terms of the pact but he does know that his son is now under the control of a devil.

And please just take a moment to think about how terrifying that would be. This isn't something that an 'I'm sorry' can fix. Wyll says it himself: it would be easier to drink the Chionthar down, drop by drop, than to break a devil's pact. The chances of Wyll ever being freed from his pact are slim to none and the damage he could do in the mean time is immeasurable. Ulder Ravengard has the weight of an entire city's well being on his shoulders. I am not saying he made the right choice, but there is a reason why Wyll says it was the only choice he could make. He told Wyll to go. Maybe out of shame, maybe out of fear, maybe out of the hope that his son would do less damage far away than if he were to stay. We don't know why. Maybe he regretted it, maybe he never looked back.

But he's been having one of the worst fucking years of his life and most of it is due either directly to devils or to people conspiring with devils. His mind has been scraped raw by the Absolute. He's injured and if you broke Wyll's pact he was just attacked by another devil and exploding spiders. If you didn't break Wyll's pact, he just saw evidence that Wyll is still in leagues with a devil, after all Mizora states very clearly that she always fulfills her promises as she saves him.

Oh and if you didn't kill Karlach, Wyll is a devil now (*techinically he is still human, just with some devilish features and will be regonized as infernal in origin by the spell Detect Good and Evil, but Ulder Ravengard doesn't have the insight to game mechanics that we have and may or may not be aware that Wyll turning into a devil is a lot less probable than him just being made to look like one.)

So maybe, it's just a little understandable that instead of greeting Wyll with joy or gratitude at being saved the first thing he thinks, the only thing he can think of is: what fresh hell is he in for now?

(And maybe ya'll can be a little more understanding of Wyll choosing to forgive his father too. I don't think it's out of character for Wyll. I don't think he's ignoring everything wrong with what his father did. I don't think Wyll is a bad person for choosing to forgive his father or that anger would have been the right choice for him. It's far, far more complicated than that.)

[alyjojo]

October 🌹 2024 Monthly - Scorpio

Preshuffle: A lot of romantic energy, either planning to do something special with a partner or planning to ask someone out that you have a crush on - could be switched.

Meditation: I’m hearing one of the songs I just posted for Virgo, I’ll post it again for you. There was a watch on your arm, ticking and ticking. Like you’re waiting for the right person to come in and “shatter you.” Melt defenses. Make you feel something - deep, intense & transforming.

Main energy: Judgment rev

What’s going on in October:

Queen of Swords rev, 5 Wands, 8 Pentacles, Strength & Ace of Wands

You’re not going to have much time with your partner this month and it’s going to really piss you off eventually. Or there’s no time to even date or look for one, no decent options you’re into, it’s love that’s frustrating you. Could be God too, it’s all related. Those without a person might be shaking their fist at the sky cursing God’s name like “where my soulmate at wtf.” And others have a person but they have no time to really spend with them, either because of their job or their person’s, maybe both. Schedule at the bottom of the oracles shows the problem, but I’m not sure what you can do about it besides “make time”. Where possible. If you’re fresh out of a relationship, this is saying you absolutely refuse to get back into one for sexual purposes only, like they have to be more than hot 🥵 probably because the last one was hot, and crazy 🤪 All of them? 😆

There’s a tinge of bitterness in you with Queen of Swords rev (a tinge?) For those where love plays no role whatsoever, then someone at work is pissing you off and there could be an actual conflict, you’re needing to restrain yourself and your temper - or Spirit is telling you to, because The Hermit rev - you’ll have to see them tomorrow, don’t make it too uncomfortable. Memory being here shows you reflecting on things and either you’re irritated you’re “alone” in a relationship (busy) or you’re irritated by the past entirely and never want to do any of this shit again - but don’t know how that’s even possible. Honey Adams is your message of making the most of things as they are, amid the bitterness, and I’m also hearing “honey tea”. No clarification, just honey tea 🫖, could be something good for you I guess. Also hearing “allergies”, someone needs tea and lozenges or some soothing remedies. What is the pot, a steam pot or something with mint…also seeing a vaporizer. Someone could be dealing with irritating allergies, or someone around you is (a baby?) Nature being your Oracle is also pointing towards more natural solutions - less processed food, again I’m seeing “honey tea.” Or you’re already doing something like this and it’s medicine that’s hard to find “naturally”, you may have to give in and go buy some if it gets too bad - don’t suffer for a belief system, get some medicine-induced rest & it’s fine. Those with sick babies, talk to a doctor plz. Babies under a certain age cannot have honey 🍯 Google it. With all of this…a baby could actually be allergic to honey. Did you give them honey tea for some sniffles? Allergy test? We are 👏 moving on 👏 now. This is how I get messages, it takes a minute…or five.

There is some kind of plan not working out, could be romantic, a date, a special thing you’re supposed to do and then work calls and you can’t, that’s the strongest energy. Someone is very upset about this and it may turn into a battle. Could be with coworkers. This conflict is connected to work & The Tower, something unexpected happening. I’m seeing files be moved to the wrong place, for someone. Which is annoying and inconvenient but is it the worst thing ever…more that you’re inconvenienced by whatever it is, and angry. Or someone is angry at you so now you’re angry at everyone else - Marionette has you feeling like a puppet under someone else’s control and literally nothing pisses a Scorpio off more than an attempt to control them.

9:11 on the clock as I start the last section which is saying to mind your temper oh hot one. You could lash out in anger and say or do something you can’t take back, or that will put you in difficult circumstances moving forward. I keep seeing “the next day”, like a walk of shame being involved. Called Karen a ratchet bitch on Wednesday and need her signature on Thursday - that’s the vibe with work. Spirit is saying anything that gets you super heated is for you to consider and process emotionally, not act out on. It’s also saying it’s going to work out and be fine with The World clarifying, by the end of the month. Keep calm 😌 7 Pentacles at the bottom shows time being necessary, wait and see, be patient.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Strong Virgo, Leo, Cancer & Scorpio

Oracle: ✨

Marionette 🎭

Dictatorship - Domination - Reluctance

Memory 🧠

Remembrance - Commemoration - Reunion

72 Nature

Go out in Nature as much as you can, for it’s pure creativity can teach you everything you need to know.

We enter into October as:

Wolf of White Light 🌙

“There is a guide inside of us.”

Wolf of White Light comes to remind you that you must use your instinct, for it is what protects you. You are more aware of this than you realize. Your instinct is finely tuned and accurate, so why doubt it? He reminds us that focusing on past injustices will not prepare us for the present. Wolf of White Light warns that time spent in the past also leaves you defenseless in the future. Letting go of the old is signified, for if you do not, you may miss the opportunities that Spirit has planned for you. Wolf is the spirit guide that comes to lead you up the mountain you are about to climb. He only appears to those seeking a guide. Allow him to guide you, and follow your instincts. Remember that when the Wolf appears, it’s time to move on. He is a reminder that your journey is guided. With your eyes focused forward, the Wolf is waiting in the distance for you. Now is the time.

What is to be learned in October:

Honey Adams 🍯

“I will attract to you whatever you desire, if you give up your desires.”

Are you seeing your life as it really is, or how you’d like it to be? Are you wishing things in your life could be different? Honey reminds us that what we create is in fact what we want. So often we wish that things could be different rather than accept that this is how it is. Honey tells you to make the most of your present situation.

Giving does not mean compromising who you are. Being a giving person means showing up with as much honesty and fairness as you can in any situation. This is a strong reminder to stop complaining, roll up your sleeves and get the job done. If you feel that are are being treated unjustly, you must act “just” yourself. The indication is that you need to give up what you think you deserve and start being of service. What any of us receive is up to Spirit.

Orange may be a lucky color 🧡

[jessilynallendilla]

JUSTICE LEAGUE GODS AND MONSTERS FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

Pieces Of Us  M 60,080 

“It’s human nature to want to live, and therefore Kirk shouldn’t be ashamed, but he was. He is. As soon as those otherworldly eyes met his, he knew this was not what he signed his life away to.” Kirk is recruited by the government to work on a confidential project. Desperate to find a cure for his cancer, he accepts only to find what he was testing was whom he was testing. By then, he couldn't turn back. What's done is done as he struggles to undo the mess he's made. 

Sea Monsters And Aliens  T 8,784 SERIES 

Oil rigs are being mysteriously targeted. Batman and Superman are sent to investigate. They are confronted by new enemies, new allies, mythical kingdoms and hidden government agendas. 

Romance Languages  M 14,892 

Kirk didn't say much when Hernan first met him, it's rude to speak with your mouth full. Though as time passed, as they grew closer, Kirk learned a few new words, the confidence to speak his mind. Eventually he and Hernan had a language all their own 

No More Heroes (In A World So Cold)  T 27,039 

Clark and Bruce are visited by an Amanda Waller from another world. She asks for their help with her Superman, Hernan Guerra, who has gone rogue. Clark accepts, and Bruce goes with him. When they arrive, Clark wishes to see who Hernan is and what he has done, while Bruce investigates the day Hernan went berserk. With what Bruce has gathered from his investigation and what Clark has seen of Hernan, they must decide who they can trust in the GnM universe: Waller or Hernan, or is there something much larger at play? 

THE GOD'S MONSTER  T 4,692 

And then come the words, thrown at last to his face: “MONSTER. ABOMINATION.” My thoughts, exactly, Kirk has the time to tell himself before the feeling of something cool and viscous hits his face. OR the one where Kirk wants to quit and Hernan strongly disagrees. 

AND THEN, THEY WERE TWO  T 4,045 

Hernan isn't sure he knows what he's doing, bringing the blood sucker home, really… It's the first days, they learn to navigate each other, learn to 'hero' together, learn about each other.They learn. 

Home Is With You  M 5,569 SERIES 

Kryptonian science helps Superman turn Batman back to human. 

In Any Other World  G 1,283 

Hernan gets stuck in the main universe, and discovers how different things are from his own world. 

Out Of Any Other World  G 1,714 

After being stuck in a parallel universe for months, Hernan's not the same when he returns home. 

Fear And Delight  EX 5,591 

Hernan returns from a bad mission with a heavy weight on his shoulders. And when Kirk expresses concern (Kirk has a habit of watching Hernan too closely, knowing him too well) Hernan realises there might be a way Kirk can help relieve the burden. With the help of kryptonian level restraints and Kirk's thirst for blood, Batman and Superman find a way to navigate through their unspoken feelings and land on an unexpectedly healing use of deliciously (unfamiliar) painful control. 

Bleeding Love  EX 6,973 

After an attack on the Tower of Justice, a depowered Superman searches for Batman, worried the injuries his teammate suffered have left him disoriented and defensive—a disaster waiting to happen if he runs across civilians. Hernan eventually finds Kirk in a bad state, but can he offer the other man the help he needs to survive? 

[Comic]10 Years ago  M COMIC SERIES 

Old comic pages I did years ago on Hernan and Kirk's first meeting 

Seasons  T 2,395 

Kirk Langstrom was five seasons to name. And truthfully, Hernan Guerra aware of that fact. 

Charred Remnants Of A Demon's Despair  EX 1,953 

I did not let Magnus die, but I did not let him live either. I may not have shown it, but I was beyond furious when Will Magnus told me that he killed the woman I had once loved years ago. Now, I will make him suffer. I will rip his soul to pieces, soak them in his torment, and feed it to the demons that trail me and fornicate within my blackened heart. He thought he knew what true evil was when he faced the whole of my team. Well, then. It's my turn to change his mind. 

Fragile  EX 18,7365 

All it takes is one day, one moment, for a life to be forever changed. Hernan struggles to adjust to this new life of his, as Kirk tries to pick up the pieces. 

Not In A Hurry  NR 2,115 

Hernan doesn’t notice right away. Maybe it’s because Kirk doesn’t shy away, doesn’t twitch and pull away from his touch. It’s only after the whole thing is over, after Kirk lost most of what he still had in this world, that Hernan gets the first glimpses. There is no funeral - there are no bodies to bury after all - Kirk’s face set in stone, his eyes hidden behind the red glasses of his Batman uniform as he opens the small urn and lets its contents out. He doesn’t say anything. Instead he watches as what’s left of what was his best friend at one point gets snatched up by the wind, before getting lost forever. Hernan doesn’t notice until Bekka steps forwards, touches Kirk’s shoulder and Kirk tenses, one of his fangs slipping through his bottom lip, tearing at it. It’s gone as soon as it appears though, and if Bekka noticed the way Kirk’s muscles pull she doesn’t say anything. Hernan doesn’t think much about it either - it ought to be the stress, the sadness and mourning Kirk’s going through. 

Enough For People, Enough For Gods And Monsters  M 10,767 

What do the gods fear most? Surely nothing is challenging to them. What does a monster fear? He evokes fear. And yet, they play gay chicken. 

Bleeding Heart  M 

All is not well in the life of Kirk Langstrom. He's a monster, after all. He's been struggling with that fact and struggling to find a way to keep some shred of his humanity intact. He's sure he's doomed to be alone... to be locked outside the world. But fate has other plans. 

Desmodontinae  T 32,405 

Kirk wakes in a Gotham that is not his own. 

El Niño Estrella  T 4,147 

His mother calls him her niño estrella, but only when they are alone. Only when there’s no-one around to hear. It’s her secret name for him and he loves it. It’s theirs, only theirs and nobody can take it away from them. Hernan Guerra becomes Superman. But that's neither the end nor the beginning. 

HUNGERS  T 3,811 

Taking care of yourself, when you're a vampire, is not as easy as you might think, even if you're very smart. The care of a vampire, even a very smart one, is not as easy as you might think, even when you're Superman. Also, Bekka is watching the events unfold with utter bemusement, and perhaps even disbelief. 

[tosin-talks]

Tosin Talks about releasing and rephrasing

Alright…I’m done being angry. I’m over being sad. I’m sick of being a victim. I’m tired of being distant. I’m letting go of resentment, defeat, insecurity, worry and wondering, guilt, and every other emotion that has plagued me these past couple of months. I’m releasing control and rephrasing the way I view things.

I’ve been away for a while, both on my blog and outside of my pink themed laptop. I experienced some personal challenges that called for me to retreat for a little bit. I was finishing up the school semester with what felt like my four last brain cells so focusing was a tremendous task. A few end-of-semester assignments were surrounding the topic of BPD so I think that brought up some shame for me. Work was becoming quite overwhelming and tiring. A few of my recently made friendships abruptly came to an end and once the Spring semester was over, it felt like most of my school friendships were headed that way too. I’ve felt really alone recently but that might've been the point.

I don’t think my hermit phase was necessarily a bad thing. I think I needed to learn to be alone and comfortable with my own company. This period alone allowed me to do some shadow work and uncover the parts of myself that I still need to confront and forgive. I additionally felt like the energy and effort I put into school, work, and relationships amounted to nothing and that this has always been the case. I needed time to put that energy and effort into myself so I could stop feeling like I was losing in every aspect of life. I was spiteful of the world and everyone in it. I felt undervalued, unappreciated, unimportant, abandoned, alone. I asked myself, the universe, and intuitive readers the same question, “I’ve done everything right, I’ve put in so much, I’ve suffered enough and I’m not suffering anymore so…why do I still hate my life?!” 

The answer has always been within myself. I just wanted it to be clearly written out for me, but where’s the lesson in that? I often assume that because I’ve endured trauma at a young age that every bit of hardship should cease and I should be living an absolute fairytale. I expect to never experience an obstacle that provokes personal development after just getting through the last one. But that would defeat the purpose of personal development. If I never faced a single challenge ever again, how would I become my best self? 

I consider myself a “forever student”, I love learning new things and refreshing or expanding my knowledge on things I already know. Rephrasing life’s challenges, even the ones I’ve experienced before, as opportunities to learn and grow has significantly impacted the attitude I have towards them. I’m not too scared of Tower moments anymore because I know that these experiences are for my highest and greatest good. They’re difficult changes to go through and I’m allowed to feel whatever I want to feel but remaining in the negative headspace seldom allows for progress outside my head. It’s hard to hold onto hope but it feels better than holding onto hate. 

I guess this was all part of my most recent life challenge and I was going to keep going through the same obstacles until I learned to view them less as barriers and more as moments to be better. I was going to keep holding onto hate, anger, shame, bitterness, and doubt until I was finally ready to freely feel love, peace, forgiveness, empathy, and confidence. I was going to keep asking every therapist and psychic the same questions until I listened to my intuition and found the answers in myself.

Here I was thinking some of the answers would come to me while meditating in nature…but they came while rejoining Instagram to post silly memes and while adding kombucha to my grocery list and while preparing my outfits for the Barbie movie and…when I just stopped asking.

Background music by Arcane Beats

[saucynadles-arts]

yea i love squid game

[weakforarwen]

Even though the evil!Gwen storyline was completely pointless, at least she was 100x better at playing the inside villain than Smirkgana and Agravaine. So naturally the writers resolved that storyline just as quickly as they started it. And there is zero focus in the following episodes on Gwen's feelings about being under Morgana's control & all the things she had done for Morgana's cause - it's like that storyline never happened, much like the enchanted bracelet fiasco.

I know, right?! Honestly, the evil Gwen episodes were some of the season's best. With All My Heart might be the best season 5 episode, and while I didn't particularly care for A Lesson in Vengeance, The Hollow Queen was pretty good. Daegal, my poor baby, was amazing, and Colin did an amazing job when he was poisoned and trying to get back to Arthur in time to save him; unlike Agravaine and Morgana, Evil Gwen was an efficient and charismatic villain, and Angel played her really well. Also interesting about that episode was Morgana and Gwen's connection: how she felt and saw what Morgana had been through while imprisoned with Aithusa; she even cried for Morgana. I think the evil Gwen storyline showed Morgana in a more sympathetic light, especially after The Dark Tower which was also a good episode (at least by season 5 standards, though Elyan's death was beyond unnecessary - he was always the first to suffer, like in Lamia or in A Herald of the New Age...).

I disagree that we needed more episodes of evil Gwen though. What the last season had needed was the real Gwen who would take the throne upon Arthur's death; the writers should've shown us Camelot was in good hands - Arthur's Bane wasn't enough. Season 5 was also their first and last chance to show Arthur and Gwen's married life and how they ruled together. We didn't see much of it, and most of it was with evil Gwen, which was truly a slap in the face to us fans. We still saw how Arthur and Gwen were usually like, at least from Arthur's side, but evil Gwen was different from normal Gwen. I doubt Gwen would've let Arthur seduce her while Merlin watched and prepared the bed for them to fuck on. Gwen would've told Arthur to cut it out and be mindful of Merlin, and would've thanked Merlin for his work - not given him orders to prepare a bath for her. But, naturally, Arthur thought nothing of it. Evil Gwen was still treating Merlin better than he did; as long as evil Gwen wasn't too cruel, she could get away with doing what he did every day, which was ignore the fact that Merlin was a human being and not a robot who existed to serve him.

But yes, as is typical of the writers, there was no further talk of what had transpired between evil Gwen and Arthur, and what Gwen had been through in The Dark Tower. Imagine finding out that you had unknowingly slept with another woman? Arthur would've felt violated too - not just Gwen. I know Gwen probably wouldn't have blamed Arthur too much for not noticing she hadn't been herself, but Arthur should've felt bad about it. Neither of them talked about any of it though. We just saw they were okay and Arthur was trying to be extra thoughtful by arranging breakfast in bed and picnics- with Merlin third wheeling and getting more lines that Gwen, of course... It makes me angry to think about it. I despise season 5.

The writers never cared about the trauma they put Gwen through. When Uther nearly killed her twice, in season 1 and in season 3, no one cared to ask how Gwen felt after - especially in Queen of Hearts, a supposedly an Arwen episode. After she was banished, Merlin was probably the only person who asked after Gwen. She went through so much - she was alone and homeless for months, was kidnapped by Helios and nearly became his sex slave, and then was nearly killed by Arthur because Morgana turned her into a deer - but it was all water under the bridge for the writers. Also, she didn't get to grieve Elyan or be angry at Arthur for what he did to her. Ugh. Fuck the writers.

Thanks for the ask!

[loving-daisy]

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist 

Chapter 9 - Fool

Words: 6.8k

Warnings: nothing much; fluff and angst

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

I made a fool of myself

____________________

Much to Y/N Icestone’s dismay, her request to Draco; Draco’s request to his father; Draco’s father’s request to Professor Snape didn’t last long. After the official split of the controversial Gryffindor-Slytherin couple, Y/N let all the emotions flow. Months of bottled-up feelings freely flowing. 

Hatred, mostly. 

The girl just couldn’t stand to see or even get a tiny little glimpse at the boy who captured her heart, held it carelessly, and smashed it into pieces. The mere thought of him even enraged her. Hating the fact that she was so gullible to believe that someone truly liked her because of her and her alone. Not the titles, the money, or the power that she came with. 

But as the saying goes, when one door closes, another one opens. Sure, her relationship with the Weasley had a very unfortunate ending but at least another story went on - her friendship with Draco Malfoy. And Draco, being the good friend he is, decided to help her. 

Even if all the blonde Slytherin did was send an owl to his father, it did help a lot, truly. 2 weeks being George-Weasley-free during potions class. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, as the individual potions’ work eventually dissolved as they had to work by pair again. 

“This next potion you’re about to brew is much more difficult than the last.” Professor Snape informed the class. “Truth be told, I’d still prefer everyone to work individually.” 

Honestly, there’s not a potion that Y/N Icestone can’t brew perfectly. Sure, there could be some difficult ones but the girl is always up for the challenge. Working alone versus working with a pair didn’t really have that much difference. She firmly believed that she’d do well even without a partner. I mean, the girl basically proved herself in the last 2 weeks. 

“But due to a lot of errors and mishaps, I’m gonna allow you to work in pairs. Your partner will be your previous partner. Now, get to work!” Snape ordered with a scowl, grasping his black robes as he started to walk around the classroom. 

I should’ve just asked my Father. Too bad he never got close with Snape. Too bad Draco’s not here. The Slytherin thought, letting out a huff before making her way towards her previous table - the one she shared with the boy she’s trying to avoid.

____________________

As the Slytherin sat on top of the stool beside the desk where their bubbling cauldron was placed, she couldn’t help but send a look towards Daphne who was putting ingredients into their cauldron. 

Sensing Icestone’s look, Greengrass’ attention diverted to her best friend, raising a brow as if asking “what’s wrong?”. Y/N rested her elbow on top of the desk, placing her chin on her palm, pouting. 

Daphne let out a small chuckle, shaking her head from left to right. But just before she was about to mouth a few sentences towards the sour-mood Icestone, the shocked look on her best friend’s face stopped her in her tracks. 

Professor Snape immediately waltzes towards Icestone and Weasley’s shared desk, crossing his arms as he towered over the ginger with a scowl. “Mr. Weasley, I know that you have a knack for making stuff explode but for the love of Salazar, stop practicing the nonsense in this class. Have you not learned your lesson from the past week?” He let out, tone full of disappointment. 

“As expected from a Gryffindor. You just lost your house 10 points.” Snape continued before reaching out for his wand, making the mess disappear. 

“Detention, Mr. Weasley.” The potion’s master ordered before turning his heels to walk away. 

Before the Slytherin was able to open her mouth and make a snide remark, Professor Snape looked back, eyes burning holes at the girl’s forehead. “You too, Ms. Icestone.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped in disbelief. It’s not like any of the mess was her fault. It was all Weasley’s! All she had to do was prepare all the ingredients and line them up in order for the ginger to put it in so what’s bubbling in the cauldron was definitely not under her control. The girl firmly believed that she should have gotten detention for actually doing her part right. “But professor-”

“Not another word.” 

Great. So much for avoiding George Weasley. 

____________________

Later that day, Y/N Icestone found herself walking out of the Great hall to go straight towards the dungeons. But not towards the Slytherin common room. Rather, towards the potion’s master’s classroom. To serve detention. 

Truthfully, the girl didn’t know what it was like to serve detention under Snape’s name. Was it harsh like what other students claimed it to be or were people just over exaggerating? 

But come to think of it, Y/N Icestone didn’t know what it was like to serve detention under any other professor’s name. She has never gotten herself into detention anyways. If it wasn’t for the Gryffindor, she wouldn’t have even been here. She would’ve kept her record clean! 

Fortunately for the girl, Professor Snape’s favoritism towards the students under Slytherin was true. The reason? Well, the only reason why Icestone got detention is so that someone could keep an eye on every other pupil who got detention as they manually scrub all the dirty cauldrons. The potion’s professor simply told the girl that he had important business to attend to and so he’s entrusting detention towards her. 

Additionally, he promised that Icestone’s record would still be clean and that he’s adding 10 points to Slytherin for the girl to help him. Unfortunately for the girl, no other pupil was serving detention under Snape but George Weasley himself. 

Oh how Y/N Icestone wished that there was another unfortunate student who messed up in Snape’s class today. 

25 minutes into detention, the Slytherin was starting to get bored. After all, she too wasn’t allowed to use her wand. But hers was kept inside her pocket either way; Kept inside her robes with the ginger’s. 

But still, despite having the privilege of just sitting there and not scrubbing dirty cauldrons, her rage towards the ginger didn’t disappear. No matter what angle you look at it, she still wouldn’t be here if the Gryffindor didn’t mess up. 

The Slytherin huffed in boredom, piercing her cold eyes towards the boy. 

“I hope you’re aware of how much I despise you right now.” Y/N spat, deciding to break the silence inside the classroom. 

“I’m sorry.” The ginger murmured, trying to scrub the cauldron he was holding a little faster. “I’ll try to work faster. There are about 12 cauldrons left.” George informed.

Y/N hatred flowed freely, yes. But no, it couldn’t last for so long. Not when George Weasley makes it so hard for her to hate him. Why was the boy so nice? 

You look happier. She recalled. It was all bullsh-. 

“What happened anyway? Didn’t I line up all the prepared ingredients for you on the table? Didn’t you follow what the book said?” The girl questioned, hoping to at least get a decent explanation from the ginger on why their potion was suddenly messed up. 

The last time George messed up his potion was because of someone else tampering with it. But since the partner system in Snape’s class was administered again, Y/N doubted that it was another work of her housemate because even if George was their target, Y/N would be included in that target because they were...well, partners.

And the girl knew that no one dared to mess with her. 

“I’m sorry.” George repeated. Refusing to look at the Slytherin, his attention was still mainly towards the cauldron. 

This time, Icestone was now really annoyed. “Is ‘I’m sorry’ the only words you know how to speak of?” she grunted, rolling her eyes. 

“Sorry-, I mean, I’ll do better in the future, I promise.” replied George. 

“If there is a future.” The girl murmured, huffing. 

The boy didn’t know what she meant but he decided to just ignore it and get to work.

____________________

“Where have you been?” The Malfoy heir questioned after standing from his seat to walk towards the Icestone heir. 

“Draco? What are you still doing here? It’s late.” The girl pointed out, moving past the boy to sit on one of the leather couches located inside the common room. 

“Hey, I asked you first!” The blonde complained, following the 6th year and sitting beside her. 

By now, the cold room located under the black lake was quiet, seeing that it’s already late at night and there were classes tomorrow. The only people present were Icestone, Malfoy, a few students from year 7 studying, and the prefect who decided to stop by and organize the announcement board. 

Y/N leaned her head on the seat, sighing before closing her eyes. “I was monitoring Professor Snape’s detention class.” She informed with annoyance not towards the blonde, but towards the task. 

“You? Why you?” asked Draco. 

The girl turned to face the curious boy, eyes staring at his confused ones. “Well, he did say that he had some important business to attend to.” 

The blonde furrowed his brows, still not satisfied with the answer. “Okay, but why you? It could have been the prefect or whatever.” 

The girl let out another sigh. “Because stupid George Weasley was my partner in potions and he messed up so Snape decided to include me in his suffering. Thankfully, I didn’t do any scrubbing. My nails would have sucked!” 

“Partner?! I thought you guys worked individually now? Didn’t my father...” 

“Yeah...but apparently, there are too many dunderheads in the class so…” The girl said, rolling her eyes before shrugging. 

“Why’d you wait for me? Didn’t you say you had a test on Defense today?” She asked to divert the topic away.

“Well…” 

“Yes?” Y/N urged, anticipating as she examined the boy’s look. Draco’s usually perfectly styled hair was no more as he wore his uniform trousers and a plain white shirt. 

The Malfoy heir let out a small and shy smile. “I wanted to give you something.” 

Icestone stood straight, both hands held out towards Malfoy as she waited for him to give her whatever it was that he was planning to give. 

“Is it chocolate chip cookies? It better be chocolate chip cookies.” She commented with a grin, her eyes sparkling at the thought of her favorite sweet. 

Draco chuckled at her actions. “Close your eyes.” He instructed before fetching the object inside his pocket. 

Y/N felt the boy’s warm hands go over hers, feeling jewelry being put on her wrist. In the absence of the warm feeling of Draco’s hands, the girl opened her eyes, the grin on her face never faltering. 

Taking a look at her right hand, there it was, clasped on top of the Slytherin’s wrist, a silver chain bracelet with diamonds and emeralds resting beside each other. 

Her eyes made contact with the blonde’s gray ones, shock and slight confusion on her head. “What’s this? I don’t recall that it’s going to be my birthday soon.” She playfully asked. 

Draco grinned, eyes turning towards his own wrist. “Do you like it? It’s a family heirloom but I had it customized to give it a little bit more style that suited both of us. Diamonds for Icestone and Emeralds for Malfoy.” Draco explained as he lifted his own wrist, a similar bracelet placed on top of it. 

“Do I like it? No, I actually love it very much. It’s gorgeous.” Y/N stated, earning an even bigger grin from the blonde. 

“Thank you, Draco.” the girl thanked, engulfing the blonde into a big hug. 

Green apples and peppermint. That’s what Draco Malfoy smelled like. Y/N Icestone thought the scent made her feel nostalgic about her own childhood. After every tutoring session with Mr. Princeton, the fairy that she had back then would bring her some sliced green apples and tea. Specifically, it would be peppermint tea if it was the cold season. 

The girl didn’t know why she suddenly thought of her childhood. Maybe it was because of the way things are now. Maybe it was because she wanted to go back to the old days. Maybe it was because the boy on her arms made her day 100% better or maybe it was a sign. She is yet to find out.

“So, where’s my chocolate chip cookies?” 

____________________

Oh, thank Draco Lucius Malfoy for making THAT one day a little bit better. 

Ever since last week’s potions class and the detention that followed, the days passed by quickly. Sure, there was still a little tension whenever Gryffindor and Slytherin shared classes but slowly and surely, Y/N Icestone was starting to let go of it. 

There’s no point in dwelling in the past. Lixie once told her. Additionally, her hatred doesn’t even last long. Not when the ginger makes it so hard. Hatred will bring you nothing, anyways. 

It’s been two months since the Icestone heir sent that enchanted letter declaring how she was the one playing with the ginger. Meaning, two whole months have passed ever since the controversial couple split up. 

Truthfully, the time the Slytherin spent thinking about where she went wrong, what went wrong, and what lacked in her rarely came anymore. Back then, when she’d be idle and alone, she’d stare at nothing and suddenly cry due to her mean thoughts. Now, Y/N Icestone knew her worth, and turns out, she was too much for George. She was too good for him. Daphne and Draco made sure she knew that. 

However, even if months have passed ever since her relationship with the Gryffindor, both Icestone and Weasley were having a hard time. 

After being convinced that there’d be no way the ex-lovers would communicate seriously for final closure, both parties tried to bury their feelings deep inside them. But putting too much stuff inside a bottle will burst it open. 

“What did you want once it was all over, George?” Icestone quietly spat, trying hard not to divert the other people’s attention towards them. 

Today was the day where the week’s potions class happened. It was annoying for Icestone, really. 

Come to think of it, Y/N Icestone loved potions. She even wanted to practice a career centered in potions someday. But this class? She hates it. She used to love it but now she hates it and ironically, the same reason why she loved it and hated it now was the same - being partners with George Weasley. 

One minute they were quietly working on the contents of their cauldron and the next they were confronting each other about their previous relationship. 

“...” 

The Slytherin sighed, dropping her hands beside her before putting a palm on her forehead. “I’m a fool!” She declared, disappointed laced all over her voice. 

The girl let out another sigh before continuing. “I was so bloody stupid for thinking that you were different. I’m a fool for believing that you love me. I’m such a fool! I was never like this before. How did you make me become such a fool for you?” 

“But did you?” Asked George, expression with a little bit of curiosity and unknown hope as his brown eyes pierced into the girl’s glassy ones. 

“Did I do what?”

It was only then when the boy started to feel a bit embarrassed about the thought of telling the girl in front of him what he wanted to say out loud. Despite being embarrassed, George was never raised to be a coward. He was sorted into Gryffindor after all. 

“Did you love me?”

The girl felt her breath hitch, flustered by the boy’s question. 

Y/N contemplated for a few moments before giving out her answer. 

The question merely required a “yes” or “no” as an answer but oh how it made it seem like it was the hardest question to answer right now. If the girl answered “yes”, then what would that make her? She’d be the gullible girl George Weasley played with! But if she answered “no”, then she’d be lying. Oh, how she hated lying. 

So instead of giving a direct answer, she asked back. “Did you?” 

One side of George’s lips curved, his expression a smirk but mischief absent. “I asked first.” 

He pointed out. “I said, did you?” The Slytherin pressed on, waiting. 

Truthfully, the girl didn’t know what answer she should expect. She didn’t know how to react when she hears the boy’s answer. Is she really ready to know whether the Gryffindor truly loved her or not? 

“Never.” George mumbled, turning his attention back towards their brewing potion. 

Icestone’s jaw dropped, shocked by the ginger’s declaration. Thankfully, her heart didn’t fall into her stomach. No, it didn’t hurt at all. Why? Because the girl knew better. 

“This is going to be the last time you’re ever going to lie in front of my face, Weasley.” She hissed before grabbing a vial to put in their brewed potion and gathering all of her belongings to leave the room. 

“Never did I not.” The Gryffindor continued, sighing nobody but himself. 

____________________

Two weeks after the confrontational outburst regarding Icestone and Weasley’s past relationship, the girl finally became fed up with the sight of George. 

Things just didn't go right for her when it was time for potions class. Mainly because her ex boyfriend was her partner. They just simply couldn’t get along. 

She was tired. For Merlin’s sake, all she wanted was a peaceful year and good grades but the ginger was hindering both of that for her. 

“Professor, can’t I change my partner? Daphne Greengrass and her partner gave me their permission to switch too!” Icestone convinced the potions master. 

The dark eyes of the professor bored itself on the face of the Slytherin. “Can you tell me, Ms. Icestone. Why do you have the need to change your partner? Didn’t I make myself clear at the start of the year that whoever you choose will be permanent?” Answered Snape. 

“I don’t think Weasley is a good partner, sir. Look what happened last time, Professor. I don’t want to fail this class and if he continues to be my partner, he might drag me down with him!” 

Snape’s lips curled into an unamused smirk. “That’s not my problem anymore, Ms. Icestone. You’re smart. You do something about it.”

At least Y/N tried. 

“Listen.” The Slytherin called out, making the Gryffindor face her with a nervous look.

The girl’s arms were crossed, an annoyed but compromising expression plastered all over her face as she stared at the boy’s eyes.

If present Y/N Icestone was to tell past Y/N Icestone how she would be the first one to let her pride down towards George Weasley, she probably wouldn’t believe her. 

But it must be done. Because there is no way that the Y/N Icestone is going to fail potions just because of a boy. 

“If we’re going to force ourselves to work together for Potions, then we have to at least be on speaking terms with each other.” Icestone began, earning a small nod from George.

“We need proper communication, okay?” She continued, earning another nod.

Y/N nodded at George’s acknowledging nod. “So how about we figure this out and start again?” She offered. 

“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you.” The Gryffindor carefully began, sneaking a look at the girl’s expression before continuing. 

“And, I’m sorry. For everything. For ruining our potions the last weeks and for dragging you to detention with me. I didn’t mean it, I swear! It was just an accident.”  George reasoned, rambling in the middle of his explanation. 

The girl merely nodded to show how she was listening to every word. “So, friends?” asked George as he offered a hand towards the girl. 

Icestone’s cold eyes burned holes at the back of the boy’s hand, contemplating whether to shake it or not. 

Truthfully, the girl’s objective was to make them go in speaking terms again. They didn’t have to be friends, really. They just needed to communicate in potions class so that her grade doesn’t descend even further. 

Also, Icestone was not sure what being friends with George Weasley would bring her. Would it bring her the peace that she wanted? Or would it just mess up her head even more? What would be the consequences of shaking the ginger’s big warm hand? Was she prepared for those consequences? 

But nonetheless, the girl took the risk of compromising. She really wanted the good grades. “Friends.” 

____________________

Turns out being friends with George Weasley didn’t give any harm towards Y/N Icestone. In fact, it felt like a breath of fresh air. 

No, it wasn’t as if their previous midnight escapades at the astronomy tower resumed. It wasn’t as if they’d greet each other whenever they passed by each other. And no, it wasn’t as if they spent some time in the library to study. No, nothing was like that. 

Their interaction remained inside the potion’s classroom. And it was refreshing, really. Y/N Icestone didn’t have to dread attending the class anymore. She finally had proper teamwork with her partner and her grades were starting to stabilize once again.

Additionally, everyone always tried to be an insider towards the girl’s life. And truthfully? The girl didn’t want another set of rumors about herself and the Gryffindor rekindling their love or some other type of rubbish flying around the school. 

“Wanna know a secret?” George suddenly asks, making Y/N steal a quick glance at him. 

“Sure.” She muttered, resuming her work on squeezing the juice out of the beetle for today’s potion work. 

“The first task involves dragons.” The ginger whispered, looking proud at himself. 

“Dragons?! What are they gonna do with them? Fight them?” The girl asked, shocked.

“Yup.”

“But...isn’t that dangerous?” 

George gave her a nod. “It is. The Triwizard tournament involves 3 extremely dangerous tasks anyways.”

Aside from the information about the Triwizard tournament, the Slytherin was rather amazed at how the Gryffindor got the information. 

“You really have a way around things, don’t you? How did you find out anyway?” Asked Y/N. 

“My older brother, Charlie, brought them here. He works with dragons.” 

However, even if Icestone and Weasley’s friendship remained during potions, the Slytherin was not free from her best friend’s concerned interrogation.

“What’s up with you and Weasley?” Daphne suddenly asks one night when the two were preparing to go to bed. 

“We’re friends, I guess.” Answered Y/N. 

The raven-haired girl sat on her bed, moving towards Icestone’s to lay down beside her, facing her. 

“You can’t be just friends with your ex-boyfriend!” She exclaimed, earning a raised brow.

“Why not?”

“Well, because he’s your ex!” Daphne said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Icestone chuckled, placing a hand on top of the Greengrass. “Relax, Daph! It wasn’t like...anything in our previous relationship was real.” 

“But you felt real emotions, didn’t you?”

“Well, that was on me!” Y/N reasoned. “It’s not like I have feelings for him, anymore.”

Instead of getting a verbal response from Daphne, all Y/N received was an unamused look. 

“Okay, maybe I do but I’m trying to move on! Like I said Daphne, what we used to be will never be again. We’re just not...compatible.”

Icestone’s best friend’s lips curled into a smirk. 

“You know, I read something in a magazine before. You can’t be just friends with your ex. Or, you can be friends but that only means that one still likes the other.”

“Well, the one who likes the other is definitely not me.” Y/N denied. 

Daphne gave her a raised brow. “Then it’s Weasley?”

“No! I don’t even know if he really did like me. Even if he did, I like to think that he didn’t. The thought makes it easier to move on. Besides, all those are behind us now. Right now, we’re just friends. Really.” 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again, Y/N.”

“I won't, Daph. I won’t.” 

____________________

Meanwhile, inside Fred and George’s shared dorm with their best friend, Lee, who was actually nowhere to be seen. 

“So you’re telling me...you and Icestone are back to being friends?” The older twin tried to confirm, not really impressed with the idea. 

George answered with a nod and a short “yeah.”, earning a raised brow from his twin.  

“Why are you back to being friends? That’s impossible!” Fred exclaimed, shaking his head as he paced around the room.

“Why can’t we be friends? I think being friends is much better than being strangers. It gives us peace, you know? We don’t really fight during potions anymore.” The younger ginger reasoned. 

“Peace?!” Fred repeated. “Be honest with me, Georgie. Are you really at peace? Is your heart at peace? I know you know that you can’t be just friends with your ex!” 

Fred’s words started to sync into George’s mind. Was he really at peace after all the chaos that has happened in the past few months? Was he really at peace after being friends with Y/N Icestone despite still having real and genuine feelings for her? Was he really at peace even if answers to his questions were not being handed to him? Even if there was still no closure between them? 

But then again, being friends with the girl than being enemies was much better, right? At least he still saw her. At least he still talked to her. 

Is that enough?

“You know what, Fred? I can’t be just friends with Y/N Icestone.” The younger ginger declared, standing up from his bed. 

“I want her back, Freddie. But I don’t know what to do. What should I do?” He continued. 

The older ginger gave him a wide grin, patting his back. “Dear, dear, George. How about a plan b?” 

“Plan b?”

Fred nodded. “Yeah, plan b. B that stands for ‘boy I realized that I can’t live without you and that you’re the one that I want so please take me back’” 

“That’s such a long name.” Grunted George, shaking his head from left to right. 

“Oh, no need to be intimidated by it. I can guarantee you that this is 100% going to work.” Fred assured his twin as a million thoughts flooded his mind, one by one constructing a blueprint inside his head to help his brother. 

George sighed, unsure as the look of his worn-out pajamas came into his view. “I don’t know, Fred. The last time you and I made a plan that involved Y/N Icestone, it broke my heart. It broke her heart!”

“That is why we’re gonna mend it back!” Fred said enthusiastically. 

“How?” asked the younger ginger with uncertainty. 

Suddenly, George found himself alone in their dorm after Fred came running out and towards the common room. 

“Angelina!” George heard Fred call. Shaking his head afterward with the thought: how is Angelina going to help with me getting back Y/N Icestone? Fred will probably just flirt with her all throughout. 

“What do you want, Fred?” Huffed Angelina, annoyed at the look of a wide-grinned Fred because it could only mean one thing; mischief. 

“You in?” He asked without any other context, earning a confused Gryffindor chaser. However, the expression on the boy’s face didn’t falter. 

After a few moments of silence, the girl eventually understood what the tall ginger was pertaining to. They did talk about it previously anyway. 

This time, it was Angelina’s turn to call somebody. “Alicia!”  The other Gryffindor chaser stood from her seat, excusing herself from the study group she currently was in before approaching her teammates. “Angie, you called?” 

The dark-skinned girl turned to look at her, her expression the same with the boy; a wide grin. 

“You know that one time when you told me that you owe me because I covered you up from McGonagall for sneaking into the Ravenclaw tower that one night?”

“Yes…”“Well, now’s the time to pay it back.”

Fear started to spread in Alicia Spinnet’s eyes. “I don’t think I like where this is going…” she remarked. 

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

____________________

The next Monday morning, as Y/N Icestone made her way towards the Great hall, alone (for the reason that Daphne just had the habit of waking up much earlier than her to do all her morning rituals before starting the day), the Slytherin noticed how students of different houses passed on information with each other like it was their form of the morning paper. 

Typical. The Slytherin thought. 

But she wouldn’t lie, she too, was curious about what baseless rumors are being passed around this week. Last week, it was how Harry Potter would probably lose the first round in the first task for the Triwizard tournament. Draco even made it worse for the boy who lived by making his goons hand out pins that state “Potter Stinks”. Y/N thought it was childish but boys will be boys. 

What even made her curious is the way people stared at her, looking at her up and down as if she was a piece of meat. 

I mean, she was used to people keeping an eye on her, she did have a good sense of fashion and her presence alone demanded attention, but something was different for today. Why? Because as people gossiped, they were looking at her. 

“What’s everyone gossiping about these days?” Y/N asked her cat, Lixie, who she was carrying in her arms. 

“Would you really like to know?” The cat replied, still feeling sleepy. 

“That’s why I asked, didn’t I?” 

Lixie yawned, kneading his paws. “Seems like Weasley got himself a new girlfriend.” 

“Fred and Angelina became official?!” The girl asked, shocked. 

“No.”

“Ron and...some girl from Gryffindor?” The girl asked, unsure. 

“No!” The cat hissed, clearly getting annoyed at the girl’s obliviousness. “It’s George, Y/N.” 

“Oh.” Icestone let out. 

I guess Lixie’s response gave her the understanding as to why people were staring at her. The gossip was about her ex-boyfriend. 

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel anything negative from the information. It was better than she expected. She didn’t feel blue, hatred, or any remorse at all. Although she felt a little annoyed at how the people still associated her with the Gryffindor. 

“Who is it then?” she pondered. 

No matter who she thought it was, none of them really matched George. But maybe it was someone she didn’t know. After all, there were a lot of students from Gryffindor that she had no idea of. 

“I don’t know and I don’t really care. I heard she’s not even pretty.” Lixie shared, hoping to close the topic so that he may get back to his nap. 

____________________

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table where the center of this week’s school gossip was located, was an annoyed yet slightly scared Alicia Spinnet. 

“I swear to Godric, Fred, if the Slytherins find out about this and make fun of me, I’m gonna tell Angelina to kick you off the team.” The girl grunted as she displayed a balled fist for the older Weasley twin. 

“Too bad she can’t do that ‘cause I’m literally one of the best beaters this team has ever had.” Fred teased, sticking a tongue out. 

Instead of the twins sitting beside each other like they usually do, Fred was seated in front of George who’s back was facing the Slytherin table. Beside George was Alicia while Lee was beside Fred. 

Today’s mission was to earn the attention of the Slytherin in which all George and Alicia had to do was sit beside each other after Lee purposely spread rumors about them dating. Additionally, to know whether the mission was a success or a failure, Lee and Fred were there to monitor everything. 

“Then I’ll tell her your secret!” Alicia challenged, crossing her arms in front of her. 

“What secret?” Fred hesitated, nervousness starting to engulf him. 

“I know you like her, Freddie!” gloated Alicia. 

“Oh yeah? Well, what is there to be afraid of? I’m no coward, I’m a Weasley!” 

“Lee, any news?” George queried after shaking his head at Alicia and Fred’s antics. 

“The snake just entered the hall,” Lee reported, quietly keeping an eye on the walking Slytherin as she took her usual seat on her house’s table. 

“She is seated in front of Malfoy. She’s also beside Greengrass and they’re whispering.” The boy continued. 

____________________

As Y/N took her usual seat beside the 6th year Greengrass, she noticed the girl being more ecstatic compared to every other morning. The girl was glowing, her grin was wide and a shade of pink flooded her cheeks. It seems like she was announcing something very important, seeing the tablemates’ attention focused solely on her.

At least something different was being talked about at Slytherin. Y/N thought, internally smiling at herself.

The Icestone heir observed all the attentive faces, her eyes landing on the blonde boy in front of her, the Italian boy seated next to the blonde, then the quiet boy who always had a book in hand who had the same shade of pink on his cheeks.

A thought entered the mind of the Slytherin, theorizing what her observations meant but deciding to find out to confirm everything. 

Y/N bumped her shoulders to the girl beside her, whispering. “Daphne? What’s going on?”

Greengrass turned to face her, her eyes shining. “Turns out, my parents found me a match! I just received the owl.”

The Icestone mirrored the girl’s smile. “Well, you seem happy about it, Who is it?”

The boy seated next to Blaise Zabini let out a cough, making Greengrass steal a glance before turning back to her best friend. 

“Theodore Nott.” Daphne giggled. 

The smile on Icestone’s face dropped, cold eyes piercing the mentioned boy as she put on her most intimidating look. 

“Alright, Nott. You listen here-” She began.

“Oh, poor boy.” Malfoy murmured, shaking his head with a smirk plastered around his face. 

“Don’t scare him!” Greengrass scolded, smacking her best friend on the arm.

“I’m just kidding!” Icestone snickered before laughing at the boy’s terrified look. 

“Cheer up, Theodore. I’m only joking.” She assured.

“But oh! I’m so happy for you, Daph! You were always waiting for this day to come, weren’t you?” Y/N commented before giving the raven-haired girl a side hug.

“Congrats best friend! We’re both betrothed!” Daphne beamed, returning the hug. 

A series of falling silverware started to fill the Slytherin table, making the two girls pull away at the sound. 

Icestone’s head became flooded with confusion, especially after seeing the shocked look on Draco and his friends’ faces. She slightly tilted her head, trying to figure out what was happening. 

Eyeing all the tables at the Great hall one by one - Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, then Slytherin, everything started to make sense when the majority of her housemates had their jaws dropped, eyes towards her. 

She couldn’t help but let her jaw drop too. 

“Daphne...” she quietly called, trying to avoid everyone else present on the table. 

“Bloody hell! I’m so sorry!” The girl agonized, her previously excited mood being replaced with guilt. 

____________________

“Oh Godric,” Lee happily murmured, face contorting into a smile. 

“What?” Fred, not really monitoring the Slytherin, asked with uncertainty. 

“Look over there!” Lee ordered, eyes never leaving the Icestone heir. 

After following Lee’s line of sight, Fred turned his attention towards his twin, beaming at him. “She looks shocked. I think she saw George! I think it worked!” he chimed with triumph. 

George felt his lips curling into a wide smile.

____________________

Later that day, after Y/N’s last class with Professor McGonagall for transfiguration was dismissed, just before the girl headed back towards the dungeons, her arm was grabbed and she was pulled into an empty hallway. 

Truthfully, the Slytherin felt like everything was a blur ever since the day started. Especially after breakfast at the Great hall. 

Therefore, she wasn’t really focused on everything that was around her, causing her to grab her wand from her robes and point it at the intruder. 

“Relax! It’s just me.” George assured, raising both his hands into a surrendering position. 

Icestone looked at the boy up and down, keeping her wand away before crossing her arms. 

“What do you want?” She mused, tapping her feet impatiently.  

The tall Gryffindor furrowed his brows, staring down at the Slytherin. “Why are you so cranky today?” He pondered before shaking his head. 

Y/N only gave him a grunt, hissing another “hurry up!” which made George grab the girl’s hand, placing a bag on top of it. 

Icestone’s icy orbs stared at the bag. “What’s this?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, your favorite. To cheer you up, somehow,” replied George with a small smile plastered on his face.

George knew why the girl was so out of mood today. It was because she was jealous after rumors about him and Alicia started to spread around the school! And he planned on making her feel better by doing some good deeds. What more deed could be better than gifting the Slytherin her favorite sweets? 

The Slytherin’s lips curled into a smirk. “You’re sure these aren’t raisins?” She teased.

“Hey! That was one time!”

Saving from turning the conversation into an awkward one, the girl muttered a quick “Thanks.” 

“Good thing your girlfriend doesn’t get mad jealous when you do this kind of stuff with other girls.” Y/N mindlessly added, internally slapping herself at the comment. 

She didn’t mean to let those sentences out, Y/N Icestone swears! It was at the tip of her tongue but she usually would’ve swallowed everything in. She didn’t know why words started to flow out of her mouth without any second thoughts. 

“Girlfriend?” The Gryffindor repeated, feeling ecstatic on the inside. 

George felt like he just won the lottery. Y/N’s statement just confirmed his theory of her being jealous. 

“Is she not? People were talking about it though?” The Slytherin quipped, raising a brow. 

George just gave a shrug for an answer. 

____________________

“You handed her cookies! What is she gonna think now, you stupid git!” Fred grunted, smacking his twin’s arm. 

“She thought Alicia was my girlfriend! How fun is that?” replied George. 

The older ginger shook his head in disbelief. “Sure, she thought that Alicia was your girlfriend but what kind of boyfriend will she think you’ll be? A boyfriend who goes out of their way to give gifts to their exes?!” 

“Oh, Godric! You’re right! That was a stupid move” George agonized, massaging his temples.  

Fred gave him a pat on the back, comforting him “It’s fine, Georgie. You’ll do better next time. ”

“If there is a next time.” 

“No-” 

The painting of the fat lady, which actually served as an entrance towards the Gryffindor common room, suddenly bursts open with an out-of-breath Ron Weasley who looked like he just came running away from a wild elephant together with his best friend, Harry Potter.

At their little brother’s disheveled appearance, the Weasley twins put their conversation to a halt as their attention was directed towards him. 

“You would not know what I just heard at Divination class earlier!” Ron gushed, calling over Hermione and Ginny to join in their little circle for him to deliver the information he knew. 

“What?” Hermione grunted, annoyed at the ginger for ruining her reading session as well as the thought of the stupid class.

“So you know how Gryffindor and Slytherin are always conveniently in the same class, right?” breathed Ron. 

“Of course...they pair us with those snakes as if we’re actually going to get along…” Fred commented, shaking his head.

The 4th year Weasley ignored his brother’s remark and continued on. “Well, when me and Harry entered the room, Malfoy and his lot were talking and it looked serious.” 

Ginny raised a brow towards his brother. “So, being the nosy boy you are, you eavesdropped?” She interrogated, displeased. 

“Ginny, it looked important. I had to know because what if one of us is involved? What if they’re planning another thing that could hurt George?” Ron reasoned before raising his right hand to swat the air. 

“But anyway, I heard Zabini scolding Malfoy. I know, hard to believe right? But he said something like the entirety of the Slytherin house finding out Malfoy’s most important secret.” 

All the people included in their little bubble gave a small nod, acknowledging the young Weasley, getting more and more curious. 

“And?” George pressed on, making Ron look directly into his eyes. 

“I heard what the secret was!” He rejoiced, being proud of himself. 

“They really should have kept their voices lower.” He added. 

“Just get to the point, Ronald!” Exclaimed Hermione, clearly getting annoyed by the lack of information.

“Y/N Icestone is betrothed to Draco Malfoy.” 

End of Chapter 9

____________________

Taglist:  @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina​ @lilypad-55449​ @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37 @bellaiscool​ @sukunas-cult-leader​ @fandom-garbage​ @youcantbesirius​ @rainmaybank​

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Moonlight

Draco x Reader One-Shot

Summary: This is based off the song ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana Grande. During the bad times of War, not everything has to be so black-and-white. Both Y/N and Draco know it just too well.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: language 

tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Composing yourself had been more than a hard thing to ask for lately.

The Death Eater had finally taken Hogwarts under their control; famous Harry Potter, who was allegedly supposed to play a hero, disappeared in the depth of the unknown; the plan of escaping the school turned out to be an utter failure since the Dementors encircled and blocked every passage of absconding, escalating the disappointment over students.

Yet you hadn't thought of the plan B as an alternative solution, but you were sure, even if you managed to find one, it might take a few more months to figure things out. And you had to admit that increasing anxiety about your parents made you cry yourself to sleep at night. Despite your insistent pleads of the letters to contact you, you hadn't received any response or other sign of life ever since over two months of a constant worry.

And yet, it wasn't the worst part.

The Carrows, who unwarrantedly preferred to call themselves professors Carrows from now on, had decided to introduce their new methods of teaching everyone. And punishing for any triviality.

Once, for example, in Charms class -- which was the worst nightmare of a week -- you had been asked to stand up in front of the class and demonstrate a Crucio curse on the First Year who happened to accidentally bump into Alecto in the corridor. Obviously, you hadn't obeyed an imposed task to which Carrows only reacted with unrestrained rage. Instead of punishing the eleven-year-old boy, the lesson had turned out to be your disciplining session of torture for not being submissive enough. Although the feat had brought you more renown later on, which served to make Carrows more flustered, you still couldn't get out of the Hospital Wing for whole three days.

All of that also led your Occulumency to suffer, which was doubling the struggle. There was for sure no doubt it was an important skill to have, not only to create a mental barrier protecting yourself from uninvited intruders; but also preventing others' thoughts from leaking into your head. It was already enough of bearing the non-stopping suspense in the air. So, the idea of accumulating more emotions on your account would probably navigate to an outburst.  

One thing, however, surprised you. You had found out that people who outwardly seemed to have quite a reputation of cruel tossers were actually more decent and human than you could think. In particular, certain Draco Malfoy, who had been selected as a Head Boy in terms of this year.

Wandering around the school and doing the night patrols, he had happened to find you sitting hunched over, face buried in your knees, and sobbing brokenly at the fate the Wizarding World was faced to deal with. He had flumped next to you, without question, silently accompanying and comforting you in moments of solitude.

Two other times of your encounter had been in the library: spotting you among the crowd of students, he would come over and take a nearby place. You didn't know whether it was a matter of pride or disposition, but he had never spoken up, which you, in fact, didn't mind. At first, you had been a little bit dubious about his sudden influx of approachability. However, as to mute your suspicions down, you tried not pondering about it too much.

Funny, how the real nature of the boy who you had known for a nonchalant sneer and teasing remarks, could suddenly become so interesting and mysterious.

It was on a Thursday late that you were strolling up to The Astronomy Tower to see the Thestrals soaring in the air. Normally, it was around the time when you would be putting yourself to the bed, but too many thoughts were buzzing in your mind, and you knew it wouldn't give you much space to sleep anyways. The only optimum, instead of staring aimlessly at the ceiling and flipping from one to the other side of the mattress, was busying yourself with something else. The lack of sleep was due to nothing else than today's lesson with Carrows. They had thought up an idea of having some practice with a Confrigo spell which, rather unfortunately, was presented on a living phantom. As always, a whole hour of torments was disastrous, to say at least, and even after classes, you couldn't shake off the echo of troubled screams and beggings, which carried over the petrified room of students. That's why you were thinking you could swallow your emotions down, quietly and undisturbedly, in the only place you could wish for some private space. Besides, it was the only spot resembling the old Hogwarts you had known from the previous years, showing the calming extent of green grounds.

However to your surprise, when you pushed the door to The Astronomy Tower, noiselessly, you could notice a silhouette of a man already standing at the barrier, which made you momentarily flabbergasted suddenly considering an option of running upon a teacher. To save yourself from much too unwanted detention, you decided to change your track, rushing straight into your dormitory. But almost as you succeeded doing so, in the last moment, a person shifted in their place and spoke up before you had room to move.

"Pretty late for a casual stroll, huh?" At once, a feeling of dread ebbed away, and you exhaled deeply air you didn't know you were holding as you recognized none other than Draco with his back turned towards you. His tone was as usually taunting, but something in a timbre of sadness was hitched to it as well. "Shouldn't be sneaking out of the room on the patroling hours, you know? I'm the least of who you could come upon today."

Your dignity told you to say something in order to defend your harmless saunter to calm down your nerves, which benefited only your mental account. However, he made a point -- you could have been caught not only by some random teacher but Currows themselves who, you were inexorably aware, wouldn't let a chance of dehumanizing others slip away. And besides, you were a little too dumbstruck to speak, realizing it must be the first time Draco fucking prince Malfoy had uttered more than a word to you. What was a coincidence of meeting up with him just on the same day as you had been wondering about your atypical relationship formed within this school year?

Before your contemplation ended, Draco's voice carried on with a conversation, echoing off the walls. "Care to join? Seeing as you're already here."

Frowning to yourself at how surreal the situation can become, you stepped off the stairs with no more hesitation. You truly wouldn't have suspected the things would turn out that way -- embracing his Head Boy position, you thought he would send you off back to the Hufflepuff Tower with his dismissive attitude as it usually was. Inviting you over to company him was a top cherry you hadn't even considered. Truthfully, it made you feel a little thrilled to accept this offer.

As you walked over to him, his facial features became much sharper than from afar. Now, as you looked at him closely, you could define the contours of his face were even more angelic yet still masculine than in daily light. The platonic hair glinted accordingly to the moon above; his blue eyes were focused on a black void in the sky, clearly pondering more than concentrating on a particular object; a mouth pursed into a line, not a mocking expression he was usually carrying himself with. Eyeing him like that and still not being capable of deciphering him suggested he must be someone between a completely unemotional git or an excellent master of Occulumency. You preferred to presume the second one.

Quickly, realizing you were staring, you turned your head to behold a collection of vivid stars hovering above your head. You knew it was only in the Wizarding World that sky flickered so brightly -- your father was a muggle, and a whole family dwelled among a non-magical society, which you didn't mind at all. And that's why you were able to recognize... differences existing between those two worlds.

"Why are you here?" you asked curiously, not quite capable of restraining yourself from doing so. You were standing close enough to him to smell his sandalwood cologne.

He gave you a perfunctory smile, and although it was a three-second gesture, it somehow made you lighter on the chest to know he was convenient with a conversation. "Needed someplace to think," he explained, not darting his eyes away from where he was looking. He took a pause there. "You?"

"The same reason," you answered simply, shrugging. "My roommates can be too loud sometimes, and I needed some silence to sort out...stuff."

Draco nodded in understanding, not interfering any further into the topic. Brushing your hair habitually with fingers, you scolded yourself for coming up here in the first place. How could you act so irresponsibly to think you could smoothly break a regulations' rule and without anyone finding out? Although you were desperate to hide it, the presence of Draco made you inexplicably nervous, and even though you tried to gulp it down, your stomach was churning when he was around. Time proved his intentions weren't bad after all, and you confronted with the truth ever since he first happened to find you at the moment of your meltdown in the corridor, clutching to him as if he was your sanity. But that didn't dispel your doubts about him becoming a fully active Death Eater, who praised with a Dark Mark on the left forearm like with a reward for some kind of acrobatic stunt.

Your gaze swept briefly over the rolled-up sleeves of his snow-white shirt only to assure yourself the mark didn't disappear off his arm with some help of the power of your imagination. Yet it was still there -- as always, tinted coal-black, scary and blood-curdling every time you looked at it.

That evidently didn't escape Draco's notice who, as though reading your mind, started. "You know, I didn't want this." He didn't have to show what he meant by saying so because you instantly figured it out. You looked up at him, and almost invisibly, his skin pale as it already was, changed even to the whiter shade. "He has bait on me. All of this: assassinating Dumbledore; obeying his will -- it's not because I want that."

The sudden shock welled up at these words, and you gawked at him stupidly, not quite able to process what he had just told you. Swallowing with some difficulty, you coerced yourself to a mutter. "Why... why are you telling me this?"

For the first time this night, his steely stare landed at you, scanning your face to detect signs of emotion. You attempted to conceal it, but he could see you were thunderstruck by his unexpected confession. Without preamble, he smiled slightly at you. "I thought you ought to know."

Ignoring the clenching in your chest, you did your best to not break eye contact with Draco when his eyes were intently locked on yours now. You could swear, something on the verge of interest and sympathy flickered in them for a second. "Why?"

"Because you're the only person who doesn't freak out when I'm around," he explained carefully. "Every time I go to the library or appear in any other public place, you're the only one who doesn't glare."

He closed his eyes, clearly relived with the fact he could confide the worries he had been carrying for a long time. Breathing out through the nose and his lips flinching a little, his head spun again to the blank of the sky.

It was a depressing sight to see him in such dejection, and the images of him being cast aside by his former group of friends with who he had been laughing merely a year ago rolled into your head, try as might to suppress it. You could only imagine what it must feel like to be rejected by everyone around; to play the main role in something you never wished to participate in.

For a moment, you thought he was going to continue because he grunted enigmatically, but the silence remained. Unable to restrain the urge to offer physical comfort, you affectionately grabbed his palm, squeezing it in the reassurance that you were there for him. He didn't attempt to break himself out of the grip, which presumably was a good indication.

"I believe you," you stated, for some reason, satisfied with the fact you're the one to comfort him. "You are a good person, Draco."

This time, it was he who clasped your hand, and he glimpsed at you once more, towering over you with his long legs. "No. In the past, things happened, and to say, I'm not proud of them. Jeering, mocking, insulting -- that wasn't fa-."

"Past is a past, Draco," you cut him off, knowing where it all was leading, and you wanted to bring it to an abrupt end. It was the least adequate moment for apologies. "You can't fix it. Good that you understand your mistakes by now."

He hummed in comprehension, smiling, and his grasp tightened around your palm as if you were about to run off from him, which he couldn't be more wrong about. Admitting to yourself, you loved his smile -- though it was seldom, it much differed from a smirk you were accustomed to at that point -- and you secretly hoped he could do it more often. You also loved that even if he didn't talk much, he was very successful in lifting you up.

Therefore, there you were: standing arm-to-arm with your ex-bully who you had happened to run across; observing the moon in its full exposure; holding hands in reassurance. Both of you clearly enjoyed this gratifying moment and were lingering towards it not to end.

"Thank you," Draco finally choked out. "Thank you for...everything."

Ultimately, smashing the wall of uncertainty down, he wrapped his arms around your neck, hunching a little to adjust to your height, and buried his face in the crook of your neck. At first, your body stiffened at the sudden touch and a skip of the boundary, but as not to agitate him, you adapted yourself soon enough by reciprocating the hug. You started to rub the slow, steady circles on his back, and little by little, he began stroking your hair, softly grazing your scalp.

How long you stood clinging to each other like this, you didn't know. Hearing Draco sigh quietly, feel the rise and fall of it against your hands. Your heart sunk when you heard him breathe out, and you prepared yourself for him to mix out of the embrace because of sudden consciousness he was cuddling with a half-blood Hufflepuff he had been mocking for half of a decade ('I should get going'; 'I didn't mean what I said earlier; 'leave me be, Y/S'). But none of this happened, and he was only murmuring into your ear.

"I presume I should escort you to the dormitory. I could tell you were the whole time with me so no one would get any suspicion if we run into...anyone," he offered, yet you felt him almost grimacing at the thought of ending a moment you were two having.

"Mhm..." you agreed with no more opposition. "But let's give it one more minute."

____________

A/N: This is so typical of me to do something other than what's necessary lmao ;) The second chapter of Summer Nights is almost up if anyone interested. As I think of it now, this one-shot gives me such a vibe of Loud Places/Turn. However, I hope you enjoyed it :) Oh, and I'm explaining the sudden change of schedule with posting: 1. I'm very irresposible; 2. I got the super inspo to scribble this one-shot. Hah, sorry...

[stanknotstark]

Easy Aim (Is Only Exciting Once or Twice) Pt. 5 (Loki x Reader)

Loki’s turn to be a woman in every sense. Guys normally react pretty badly to our level of cramping but I don’t make Loki react too badly because he’s a warrior and probably has felt worse pain. If anything it’s more uncomfortable for him but not enough to warrant much reaction! 

Finally. 

It’s Loki’s turn to suffer. 

You hadn’t come up with a way to get back at the god but karma was a bitch. 

Loki walked into the kitchen and because of his obvious mood the team became quiet. You’re pretty sure the temperature dropped like five degrees too. 

“Who pushed you out the wrong side of bed, seeing as you haven’t had your cereal yet?” Tony asked. 

You snorted into your bite of eggs. 

Loki scathingly looked at you and Tony.

“I will piss on your mother’s grave, Stark.” Loki bites at the man. 

“Loki!” You yelled at the man. Going for Tony’s mother was off limits. Kind of like how the team didn’t ask questions about Loki’s true parentage. 

Tony waved you off with a smile. 

“Oh, you didn’t get pushed out of bed. You woke up with a big red spot on the sheets, didn’t you?” Tony says with a light voice. 

Realization dawns on you. Loki drops the bagel he had picked up and looks to you with squinted eyes. 

Loki had obviously never dealt with this when he shapeshifted. 

You quickly stand, gather Loki’s breakfast and push him out of the kitchen, with little resistance, and towards the direction of your room. Ignoring the Avengers questions and concerns. You were so worried you left your own breakfast.

When you both reach your floor. You make him set his breakfast down in the living room, then push Loki to your bathroom and have him sit on the toilet. 

It’s too silent so you start talking to fill it.

“Usually when I’m about to start I get extremely horny the week before. Then when the actual day hits I’m cramping like crazy, mostly in my lower back.” You explain as you pull out a bunch of pads from under your sink. 

Loki looks at you with something akin to fear but it’s not quite fear, when you glance at him.

“That explains the pain...” Loki whispers with realization.

“The second day is the heaviest so you’ll need to check your pad more so than usual and keep a bottle of Midol nearby because the cramping is terrible. Wait, do Earth medicines even work on you?” You ask the god, freezing your looking to look at him but continue when he shrugs at you. 

“The second day you’re also going to deal with mood swings, like, bad so maybe stay away from people?” You tell Loki as you realize you didn’t give him night pads so you search under your sink again.

“The third day it lightens up and usually my hormones balance out. The fourth day you’ll still need to wear a pad, it’ll only be spotting but it’ll spot enough to bleed through your clothes. If you feel like randomly crying at the smallest things, or even something as random as someone sneezing that is normal.” You explain to Loki. 

“Wait, I have read about periods, to an extent, but why am I having one exactly?” Loki asks.

You leave the room to find a plastic bag for all the stuff you’re giving Loki, when you come back you explain to Loki who sits there patiently. “Your uterus is shedding it’s walls because you’re not pregnant.” 

Loki squints at you. 

“How many times does this occur in your lifetime?” 

“Once a month till you hit menopause.” You tell him flippantly. 

You smile as Loki looks bewildered. 

“When do you experience menopause and when do periods generally begin?” 

“Usually around fifty and they start around twelve but can start as early as eight years old.” You shrug down at him. 

Loki closes his eyes, rubs a hand over his face with a sigh. When his hand drops he shakes his head. “And males have the gall to call presenting females weak.” 

You actually laugh at that causing Loki to softly smile up at you. 

“I uh, suggest buying some panties that you don’t care about, comfortable too, because you’re going to get blood on them whether you like it or not. I would offer you my panties but that is...gross, for some reason, even if you are in my body.” You babble out to Loki who nods at you as he stands. 

You throw the pads he holds into the plastic bag you hold, throw the nightly pads in, throw in a new bottle of Midol then hand it to him. 

“Eat with me, I’ll answer all your questions after you put a pad on of course.” You tell Loki, leaving the bathroom. You’re pretty sure he can figure out the pad. 

You sit waiting in the living room on the big couch. 

Loki comes out of your room not long after and sits next to you, pulling his plate from the coffee table and getting comfy. 

You’re shocked but Loki decided to sit pushed up against you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders which causes him make a happy noise while he chews and leans into your arm. 

“I guess this explains last night.” You say randomly thinking about the way Loki reacted to you yesterday. 

Loki chews through his honey bagel and nods. 

“It also explains why I’ve been getting wet for the past few days.” He admits without thought. 

You look down at him with a raised brow. “Oh?”

“Yes. There was a time where Steve was lifting something heavy and seeing his muscles bulge made me wet.” Loki explains, eating away, not looking at you but speaking as if he has no care about what he’s sharing. Another milestone you figure.

“There was a moment where you were laughing at something Tony said and that made me wet, I could not fathom why.” 

You laugh a little shocked Loki is sharing this with you. 

“Also, when you were hard that made me wet.” Loki finishes starting to pick at some grapes you had grabbed for him. 

“You’ll tell me you got wet but refuse to tell me you have feelings?” You ask teasingly.

Loki glares at you. 

You smile. 

Loki goes back to his food and you settle further into the couch causing Loki to further settle into your arm. 

“I thought periods last for seven days, did I read false information? Why do yours only last four?” Loki asks after he’s chewed through some of his food.

You hum. “Well everyone is different. Some people last three days, some last the usual seven, some people don’t have them monthly, some do.” You explain. “However if they don’t have them monthly that’s because of a disorder or because they’re young and haven’t balanced out yet.” You thoughtlessly explain better.

Loki is quiet for a bit but then asks. “And you did not know this period was coming?” 

You laugh lightly as your hand around Loki’s shoulders plays with your hair. It’s soft and silky. “Well, I don’t take birth control, I had a bad reaction to the one’s they gave me so I can’t really predict when they’re going to hit me. I can generalize between a few weeks but that’s it.” 

Loki hums, licking honey off his fingers. It’s just as cute as it sounds.

It’s only four hours later when Loki starts. 

You had both moved back into the general public of the tower. You had needed to eat more since you didn’t finish your breakfast then settled in the common area.

You were sitting on the couch with Natasha wrapped in your arms and Clint trying to burrow into your side when Loki made an exclamation crossed with a groan, an arm wrapping along his stomach from across the room where he was reading. 

You perk up and look at him as he looks at you with wide eyes. 

Natasha knowing what’s going on says, “It’s normal if you feel like you’re pissing yourself, you’re fine.” 

Loki relaxes and nods. 

“That’s nasty, Nat.” Clint huffs. 

“It is a natural event for a woman’s body, something they cannot control and you dare call it nasty?” Loki hisses at Clint. 

“There’s blood man!” 

“You see more blood on missions, is there a difference?” Loki points out.

You’re smiling with Natasha, looking between Loki and Clint like it’s a tennis match. 

“Well, it comes out of their vagina.” Clint weakly argues back.

“I have no doubt you’ve put your mouth on a vagina and that failed to gross you out, your arguments are irrelevant.” Loki says going back to his book.

Clint lets a pitiful noise out of his mouth and looks to you and Nat. 

“Don’t look at us, we’re on his side.” Nat says with a shrug, settling back into you. You laugh as Clint rolls his eyes. 

You watch Loki out of the corner of your eye as you converse with Nat and Clint. Loki has an uncomfortable look on his face and his arm is still wrapped around his stomach. 

You tell Nat you need to get up and she groans but allows you to. Then, she climbs onto Clint. 

Out of everyone in the tower you did not expect Natasha to be the most affectionate. 

You grab Loki’s attention and get him to follow you back to your floor, again. When you have him laying on your bed you search in your bathroom for what you seek. 

Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later you show Loki what you have by holding it up in both hands with a satisfied smile. It’s old fashioned, you probably should just buy a heating pad, but this was given to you by your mother and you can’t let go of it because of sentiment.

“What is that?” Loki asks with confusion etching his face, propped up on his elbow. He stares at the orange, rubber bag you hold. It’s the size of a decorative pillow.

“A water bottle.”

“Are you expecting me to drink it?” He asks slowly.

“No.” You laugh and make your way over to him. 

When you’ve climbed into the bed and cuddled up to Loki you place the warm bottle on his lower stomach and Loki actually groans. 

“I understand the intended use now.” He says in a grateful voice as the heat of the bottle penetrates his aching stomach. 

You smile at him but turn your attention to putting on a movie so Loki may rest here for awhile. 

See, thing is, it doesn’t stop. The cuddling, that is.

The next day Loki comes to you and asks if he may use your water bottle. When you tell him yes and go to give it to him he holds it, looking at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Would you mind.....holding me as I use this?” Loki says in a soft voice, as if afraid he’s going to be rejected.

You can see tears welling up in his eyes when he looks up at you, which you blame on the period. You smile at Loki and nod. 

“Of course.” 

As you lay there with Loki wrapped in your arms, a movie playing in the background, he says, “While I am trying to keep an open mind about this whole situation, the blood clots are disgusting.” 

You laugh, causing Loki to smile up at you. 

“Have you bled through yet?” You ask him after awhile, curious. 

Loki scoffs. “Yes. I was wearing a nice pair of pants at the time. Natasha promised to get the blood out though.” He says with a frown. 

“If anyone here knows how to get blood out of clothes, Natasha would be the expert.” You chuckle out. 

“I must apologize to her. I was a bit snappy at the time because of the frustration of ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. She was close and received the brunt of my frustration.” Loki says, his fingers trailing down the side of your chest as he spoke, his eyes trained on the movie though.

Loki must not be ticklish, you absently think as his fingers drag over your sides and you don’t react. 

It happens again the next day. The day after that too, you both cuddle with the bottle and watch movies. 

When the period ends Loki still comes to your room and cuddles with you. It’s a routine now. Every evening, if there is nothing going on, Loki comes and you both relax into each other and watch movies and tv shows, casually talking or teasing the people in the movies. You refrain from teasing Loki personally until after the period has passed because you’d feel bad if you made him cry.

It’s nice, to say the least. 

What you don’t expect is Loki almost kissing you one day. 

It was a normal day, you were cuddling and watching Die Hard, teasing the actor when things were way exaggerated. You had been rambling on about how some of the action scenes could have ended had Bruce’s character did something else. You had noticed Loki looking at you with a twinkle in his eye but said nothing about it. You really looked down at him when he grabbed your chin and angled it just enough to where he could reach your lips. 

Loki pushes and crawls up, you laying beneath him, frozen. Your eyes roam his face, it’s a little weird looking at your face but you’re too invested in the moment, to invested in the switching bodies thing. His lips come to hover over yours, close enough you could close the distance in a blink but you stay rooted to the bed. You both breath each other in, eyes memorizing everything about this moment. 

Then the moment passes and Loki pulls from you. You let out a deep breath and blink. 

Surprisingly, Loki did not run, instead he cuddled back into you and continued conversation as if nothing had happened. You replied back casually, if not a little shaky from the anticipation you had just experienced. 

Tag list: @a-laufeyson​ 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

The Great Drive: James Hunt and Niki Lauda at Fuji, 1976

I feel really sorry for Niki. I feel sorry for everybody that the race had to be run in such ridiculous circumstances because the conditions were dangerous and I fully appreciate Niki’s decision. After an accident like he had, what else could he do? Quite honestly, I wanted to win the championship and I felt I deserved it. But I also felt Niki deserved to win the championship – and I just wish we could have shared it.

- James Hunt on winning the Japanese Grand Prix 1976 to become F1 World Champion

James Hunt’s epic title battle with Niki Lauda, during what many see as the definitive F1 season, was topped off by a thrilling race in the land of the rising sun. It became an instant classic, one of F1’s Great Drives.

With everything to lose, in treacherous conditions, and with late drama, James Hunt's drive in the 1976 Japanese Grand Prix was one of the greatest of all time.

James Hunt delivered his greatest drive in spite of himself. It wasn’t just the peak moment of his career, but also a defining drive for F1.

The British gentleman racer conquering the world’s best in far away lands – Hunt embodied it.

Despite this, the Brit’s landmark drive came in the midst of late night escapades, mechanical disasters, psychological warfare and F1 politics.

As the ‘76 season approached its climax in North America and Asia, it seemed all might be lost for the McLaren team and its lead driver. Hunt had been duelling with Ferrari’s Niki Lauda throughout the year, but losing his British Grand Prix win to disqualification (announced by the FIA at Round 14 in Canada) seemed to have derailed his season for good.

McLaren team manager at the time Alastair Caldwell describes the state of affairs as they approached the North American leg of the season: “We abandoned the idea of winning the world championship. I let him misbehave in Canada and in Watkins Glen. On both occasions we were pissed on race eve, both of us in a bar after midnight getting rotten – me on alcohol and him on women, because he was always very successful with women.

“James met a girl – the leader of the band at the motel in Montreal – and so he came to the race dishevelled, in the same clothes as he’d been wearing the previous night – and he won the race!

“Even then we still thought we were out of it. Then we won Watkins Glen too! So suddenly we became serious again.”

Lauda had scored 4 points to Hunt’s 18 in this period. With the championship fight back on, the rejuvenated team and driver looked at the season finale in a new light. The championship fight was back on, and as a result, McLaren prepared for the Japanese GP with renewed vigour.

James Hunt had been in Japan a fortnight, ostensibly to test at a circuit  new to him. Delays at customs, car problems and bad weather had severely  restricted his running, but at least now he was totally orientated and, in his inimitable fashion, ‘relaxed’. That meant when he wasn’t  strutting his stuff on the hotel’s squash court, he was billing and  cooing with its latest migratory flock of pretty air stewardesses to bed. It beat  jogging.

Lauda arrived later, low-key and at a low ebb. The spirit that held  the demons at bay during his remarkable Monza comeback had evaporated in  Canada and America. Now running on empty, he was full of doubts. While  Ferrari team manager Daniele Audetto attempted to whip up retro oppo to  McLaren’s ‘illegal’ testing, his star driver looked the other way and  wished it over: Lauda was sick of Enzo and his minions, of a season in  its 10th month and of press intrusion.

McLaren’s earlier preparations were in sharp contrast to the rest of the field who arrived just for the race weekend itself. According to Caldwell, “The others all turned up on the Thursday, including Niki, you can see them all get off the plane knackered and then trying to find where this new racetrack was.”

It wasn’t just through testing and acclimatisation that Hunt and McLaren stole a march. Caldwell thought he might use interactions with the press to his advantage: “Just for a laugh we spread a rumour. A journalist said to me ‘what’s the track like?’ I said ‘It’s is good but it’s got a lot of loose gravel on it.’”

Enjoying the effect the track surface story had on the rest of the field’s preparations, Caldwell thought he’d develop the rumour into a full-blown design feature.

“Because we were bored and had nothing else to do, the mechanics made mesh covers for all the air intakes on the car, to “protect” the brake ducts and air intake.

“Then Niki (Lauda) came down to our garage, which he always did – he spent more time in our garage then Ferrari’s. He would joke with us and do mechanic’s repartee.

“Psychologically we had them on the back foot right from the start.”

“Niki had come to see what we’d done with the cars as he was also a spy. So I told the mechanics, ‘just by mistake’, to take the covers off the cars so you could see the mesh covers on all the intakes. They did this and then they put it back on in a hurry while I ‘looked displeased’.

“And so then Niki broke off the conversation, trotted back to Ferrari and said ‘f**king hell, McLaren have put vents near these grilles over everything in the car, we got to do the same.’

“The whole Ferrari organisation went out to find these grilles, find where they came from and make them for their three cars. Then we put our three cars in the pit road and took all the grilles off the T-Car. Niki came down and said ‘You f**king bastards!’ They came down the pitroad and Ferrari had this shit all over their car – these grilles all over the radiators.

“He had to tear back and tell them to take them all off. Psychologically we had them on the back foot right from the start, there’s all this psychological warfare.”

Niki was plastered across front pages because of his near-death  experience on the track; James was on them because of the life he led  off it. Their battle and clashing personalities, though they were good  friends, had made the world championship a global news shit-fight. Hunt,  outgoing but often lonely in a crowd, pretended to be okay with it.  Lauda didn’t.

Friday’s practice sessions provided blessed relief, therefore, even  though both men suffered understeer on the stickier Goodyears made  available to its faster teams because of the rare presence of  Bridgestone and Dunlop on one-off Japanese entries. The title rivals  finished the day one-hundredth apart on a provisional third row.

Each improved on Saturday – Hunt to second, Lauda to third – and  James, a notoriously slow starter who, by his own estimation, needed to  win the race in order to become world champion, was in a much-improved  mood. Niki’s never budged.

Then it rained. And rained. And rained some more.

The storm that swept in from China a day later than forecast was the  last thing Lauda needed: another element beyond his control. Mist  shrouded the snow cone of Mount Fuji, which supposedly bestowed good  fortune – when visible – and Niki felt hemmed in by circumstance.

The mind-games might well have been in vain, for the monsoon weather which rolled in on Sunday looked like putting the race in jeopardy. If the Grand Prix was cancelled, Lauda would be handed the World Championship.

Not that Hunt was enamoured with the situation. He spoke privately  with Lauda and agreed an attempt to have the race postponed – albeit not  before he stressed that he would take the start if necessary and race  as hard as Niki forced him to.

The Grand Prix Drivers Association had been formed to have some influence on such matters, to stop the interests of teams, the governing body and sponsors taking precedence over drivers’ well being. Hunt and Lauda were both members and convened prior to the race start in an effort to have it stopped.

“They were adamant the race wasn’t going to be held. Bernie (Ecclestone, Brabham team boss) and I were in the race control tower trying to convince them to hold the race.” says Caldwell “And James kept on saying ‘No no, we’re not going to race’. I tried to explain to him that no race meant no World Championship. He replied “No, no, no, it’s totally unsuitable, we can’t race”.

Alistair Caldwell, McLaren Team boss, resorted to more imaginative tactics to swing the mood towards starting the race.

“I was going down (to the pits) getting my car mechanics to start the engines every half an hour, which would make all the other teams start doing it – they didn’t know why. The engines were making this noise ‘woop, woop, woop’”.

The engineer then turned his attention to activating the spectators.

“I was trying to get some enthusiasm from the passive Japanese crowd, they’d been there for hours doing nothing. They weren’t even talking, just sitting in the rain – miserable.

“I said to our tyre man Lance Gibbs ‘Do you think you could get the crowd going?’ So he got up on the pitwall with his ACME Thunderer whistle, which had been given to the boys to use as a horn, for when they pushed the race cars around the paddock.

“He went ‘beep beep’ and hundreds of spectators did the same – got them doing a concert. We then did the business of slow clapping, when it gets to the end, people can’t keep up, they lose co-ordination and you get a huge noise.

“I went back to the tower and the geriatric Japanese officials and said, ‘Look, you’ve got a riot on your hands’ Bernie was there and he said ‘Yeah, you’ve gotta hold the race. Otherwise you’ll have trouble’. So they said ‘Ok we’ll have the race.’”

With the decision made, the cars finally lined up to start at 4pm. The deliberations had been going on so long that the light was now beginning to fade, reducing the limited visibility even further.

Hunt, nervously retching and hacking more than ever, was so  distracted that he took a leak in full view of the spectators. Cue  polite applause. Ominously, he then walked a plank laid across a puddle  and stepped aboard his McLaren M23. He tipped his helmet back against  its roll-hoop and closed his eyes in contemplation. Lauda, crushed by  all that had gone before, hunched forward in his 312 T2’s cockpit. Both  knew that fate was about to be sorely tempted.

Hunt made a blinding start and held a huge lead by the end of the  opening lap. As the rest pecked hesitantly in his rooster-tails, he was  out of sight, both physically and metaphorically.

Meanwhile, Lauda, unable to blink because of his burn injuries, was  drowning in the pack and questioning his sanity. He formulated an answer by lap two. The Ferrari – “a paper boat in a storm” – rolled into the  pitlane and drew up at its garage. Measured. The team descended while  designer Mauro Forghieri craned into its cockpit to ascertain the  problem.

After just 1 lap, Lauda had seen enough. Deeming the conditions too dangerous, and having already nearly lost his life at Nürburgring that year, the Austrian decided it simply wasn’t worth carrying on. He pulled his Ferrari into the pits and walked away from the 1976 World Championship. Lauda, the reigning world champion, had the skill but not the will to continue. It was “murder” out there – and life was for living.

Hunt, as drivers without a world title feel compelled to, pressed on  and kept his date with destiny. Hunt being Hunt, of course, he almost  missed it. Not until his post-race red mist lifted could he be persuaded  that he hadn’t.

With Lauda out the race, Hunt’s task was now a little more straightforward. He simply had to finish third, and the title was his.

The McLaren driver pressed on and by lap 10 his lead had doubled to over 8sec. Meanwhile, interesting movements were afoot further back in the pack.

Local hero Kazuyoshi Hoshino, driving a privately-entered Tyrrell 007, had made his up to third, from 21st on the grid!

More worrying for Hunt was that March’s Vittorio Brambilla had overtaken Andretti and was beginning to hunt him down. By lap 20, Brambilla had closed right up behind the Hunt.

On the next lap, the March driver decided to go for it. Brambilla, known for an erratic driving style, conformed to type on this occasion by inadvertently out-braking himself as he dived down the inside of the McLaren.

Hunt had been wary of Brambilla and was monitoring the situation constantly. In a moment of brilliant anticipation, he allowed the March to spin in front of him, performing the cutback and before carrying on as if almost nothing had happened.

Brambilla dropped to fourth, the danger to Hunt being over for now. Andretti at this point was gradually dropping back through the pack. It was Hunt’s team-mate Jochen Mass who was behind him now, with a McLaren 1-2 now looking very much on the cards.

Seeking to control the race from here on in, the team’s new concern was the drying line which was now appearing on the track. Caldwell put out a pit board sign telling his drivers to cool their wet weather tyres – this was done by searching for wet sections of the track, the water preventing the rubber from overheating.

To his team manager’s frustration, Hunt didn’t appear to be heeding the warnings: “As soon as Mass saw the sign, he pulled over in the water right in front of us. Then on the next lap he came down the right hand side of the track, splashing through the puddles, which cools the tires down, (while) James didn’t react.

“The next lap we gave it to Hunt again, the next lap again, he still didn’t do it. So we took away the pitboard, just gave him the ‘cool tyres’ sign and he still didn’t react. So then everyone in the team started pointing at it (the sign). Everybody in the team pointed, Teddy (Mayer, McLaren Managing Director) and everyone else and he still did nothing.”

Hunt carried on down the dry line, running his tyres way above their recommended temperature, seemingly oblivious to the warnings.

If Hunt wasn’t going to heed the warnings, then Andretti was: “Because we were emphasising this so much, Andretti saw it and started to cool his tyres. So he started running through the puddles. He didn’t have to stop (as a result).

“But James just resolutely drove down the middle of the dry track, and we could never bring him in, because he was never that far ahead. It was never possible to tactically stop him because there’s a big long pitroad at Fuji.”

Jochen Mass, benefitting from his team’s tyre advice, now began to reel in his team-mate. If he got past, he would have no trouble driving off into the distance to take the win.

However, the German’s diligence came to naught, as he spun off and out of contention on lap 36. This would have a huge bearing on the race later.

For now, Hunt was again in the clear. Another challenger, Shadow’s Tom Pryce, moved into second, but he too retired as his Cosworth engine expired on lap 46.

As the grand prix wore on, Hunt remained in a seemingly trance-like state as he stuck to his line, the situation became critical.

Whilst yet another to danger to Hunt had abated, the McLaren driver was now deciding whether to play the percentages. He could either pit to replace his worn tyres – and lose track position – or try and stick it out at the risk of losing so much grip he would be overtaken anyway.

Hunt took the second option. He could afford to drop to third, and this is indeed what happened. On lap 61, he was overtaken not only by Tyrrell’s Patrick Depailler, but also the resurgent Lotus of Andretti.

If Hunt managed to hold position, he would be world champion. For the next 7 laps, the plan appeared to be working. Then, on lap 68, disaster struck.

The McLaren driver suffered not one, but two deflated tyres – both on the left-hand side of the car. They were, as Caldwell puts it, “worn down to the air”. Hunt managed to drag his car round for half a lap before scraping into the pits.

F1 jacks at the time were not designed to lift a car with puncture at the front and rear of the car. While the jack was used to lift the rear of the car, TV shots show Caldwell and other team members lifting the other end of the car themselves to replace the front-left tyre.

It was a long pitstop, and once out, Hunt found himself back in fifth place. There were four laps left and Hunt was two places down on where he needed to be.

Two more laps passed and the Englishman was no further up the order. It looked as if he may have lost his championship chance.

Then, with two laps left of the race to go, Hunt started the fight back. At the exit of T1 he managed to get past the Surtees of Alan Jones. One more place and the championship was his.

Next up was the Ferrari of Clay Regazzoni. It turned out there were some Scuderia politics at play which would work to Hunt’s advantage.

Caldwell filled in the back story: “Ferrari’s reaction to Niki’s crash was to sack Regazzoni (for 1977). He had already been sacked (by Fuji).

“So he was pissed off at Ferrari. When James came charging along, he just stepped out of the way and let him by.”

After benefitting from Regazzoni’s apparent generosity, Hunt was suddenly back in the golden position, the third place he needed to clinch the championship.

The McLaren man just had to keep it on the road for two more laps and he’d take the title. The tension mounted, both in the team pit and back in the UK, where his family were watching the live television feed at 3am.

Despite two nerve-wracking final laps, the Englishman duly brought his McLaren home in third place. He was the new F1 World Champion.

Photographs show Hunt angrily remonstrating with his team as he climbed from the car. He hadn’t realised he’d got the job done.

Caldwell himself had mixed emotions about the whole affair, “He didn’t look at the board and when he came into the pits he started shouting at us, because he didn’t know what happened. He was incredibly annoying on the day. He did drive magnificently, he kept it on the road – that’s one point of view. From my point of view it was the most frustrating day – I could’ve hit him with a baseball bat! He could have won the race, just strolled the world championship. All he had to do was read this pitboard and drive in the water, which is what Andretti did, so he didn’t wear the tyres out and could paddle across the line with the same ones.”

In spite of Hunt seemingly making a championship-losing decision, he had still managed to pull it off.

However, such was Caldwell’s consternation, the two didn’t discuss afterwards.

I was so angry about it. We flew back to England and I wasn’t talking to him on the plane. He was pissed as a newt anyway – we were all pissed as a newt and totally exhausted. He just went to sleep.”

The two never discussed the reasons behind the events, but it didn’t change the result. Three years after making his F1 debut, Hunt was the world champion.

Ten weeks later Hunt arrived in Argentina to begin his title defence  feeling underwhelmed and under-prepared. A few celebratory cigs and tins with his friend Britain’s newly crowned 500cc motorcycle world champion, Barry Sheene, at Fuji and a riotous return flight had been followed by a  disorientating whirl of meetings, interviews and engagements. The  race-by-race title chase had been thrilling: a sequence of one-day  stands. Making it official had cooled the relationship. The love affair  was over.

Though both men would retire summarily during the 1979 season, Hunt  did so because he felt frightened and disillusioned, whereas Lauda did  so because he felt nothing, which frightened him.

Niki, though, had a system – plus a plan to run his own airline – and  ultimately would return to the F1 cockpit and be successful. James,  whose theories were sometimes somewhat scrambled, would not. He bred  budgies instead. You do what you have to do.

Lauda’s decision to stop at Fuji ensured that he would be able to  continue. Hunt’s decision to continue ensured that he would have to stop  sooner rather than later. One racing mind wiped clean, the other  cluttered – and racing.

In spite of his career’s decline, Hunt’s endeavours had captured the imagination of the wider world in a way no racing driver had done before.Hunt knew that life was for living, too. Tragically, however, he had just discovered how best to when fate too soon snatched it from him.

[lyssismagical]

Prompt: Tony tells peter he hates him in the heat of a argument and then goes on a long mission and doesn’t have time to apologize and comes back to a depressed peter and apologizes

This is literally so old I’m so sorry lmao hope this is alright

tw oops i killed may again, depression, grief, arguing? 

The grief builds on his back like Atlas holding up the sky. 

He’s trying. He wants to scream at the world that he’s trying. Of course, he’s trying. He’s putting one hundred and ten percent into every obstacle thrown his way, every responsibility asked of him, every favor he adds to his list. He’s trying. He’s trying. He’s trying. 

He doesn’t know how to try any harder, he doesn’t know how to put more effort into everything he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to be better. 

Sleep becomes something only done when absolutely necessary, every couple days, only a few hours caught on the train or in detention or on the couch when Tony makes him give in to his exhaustion. 

He knows he’s being hard on Tony. He doesn’t need all of Peter’s bullshit on top of everything else he deals with. He’s already done so much, offered up a bedroom in his tower, held his hand at May’s funeral, paid for everything he could ever want, he even got Peter an emotional support dog to take care of him when Tony can’t. 

But Peter just can’t seem to repay him. He doesn’t even have the decency to be a good kid while under Tony’s roof. 

He gets detentions, he skips classes, he gets hurt patrolling, he puts off his own needs, he snaps at Tony, he isolates himself, he refuses to deal with the stress he’s under. He’s making everything so much harder on the only person who’s still around. 

It’s not fair on Tony. 

But Tony takes it all in stride. 

He never gets upset with Peter, never pushes him, never gets angry. 

It makes Peter angrier, in turn. He wants to ruin the last good thing he has, he wants to destroy everything he stands on, he doesn’t deserve to have Tony.

“Leave me alone,” he mutters, trying to push past Tony to lock himself in his room. 

“No, I need to talk to you real quick. C’mere,” Tony says, waving him over. “We’ve got a mission that might last a little bit, so you’re going to be here alone with Pepper and Happy, alright?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m seventeen.”

“They’re not babysitters, they’re just around if you need anything.”

“I can take care of myself.” Peter knows he’s being irritated for no reason, Tony’s done everything right and Peter won’t stop picking fights. “I don’t need them and I don’t need you looking over my shoulder, criticizing everything I do.”

Tony sighs softly. “I don’t think you can’t. I just worry, that’s all.”

“When your parents died, you went on a crazy drinking, drugs, and gambling binge for like twelve years. I get a couple detentions after losing my fourth parental figure and suddenly I’m spiraling out of control? I’m incompetent? I’m mental?” 

He hates himself, a deep dark pit in his stomach, threatening to swallow him whole in his self-loathing. He hates that he’s doing this, hates that he’s going to throw everything he has at Tony, make him hate him, just because he can’t possibly bear the kindness he’s been shown. 

“Pete, kid, I don’t think that at all.”

“I’m not you!” Peter spits, mouth wobbling and raking a hand through his messy hair. “You’re not my dad! You can’t keep me locked up here forever. I turn eighteen in six months, and I won’t stick around to continue playing into your House Fantasy. I’m not your kid. We’re not family.”

The shocked look on Tony’s face makes Peter feel worse, it makes the monster in his chest happier knowing Peter’s suffering like he deserves. 

“Kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He’s moments away from crying, voice breaking and hands shaking. He wishes he was still a kid, wishes he could be coddled and taken care of and loved, but he’s not that kid anymore. “I didn’t ask for you to take me in and pretend to care! I didn’t ask for you to ruin my life! It’s your fault May’s gone. If you hadn’t put me on the Superhero Radar, nobody would’ve gone after my family.”

Tony shakes his head, shoulders slumping. “Peter-”

“Don’t. You’ve made excuses for everything you’ve ever done like the Murder-Bot and the war between the Avengers and dragging me out to Germany. You can’t make an excuse for this. You’re the reason I have nothing.”

“I know you’re upset, kid, I get it, but you can’t blame the world forever.”

Peter rolls his glassy eyes, putting more distance between him and Tony. “I don’t blame the world, I blame you.”

“And that’s fine, Peter, okay? Blame me, hate me, I don’t care, but don’t bottle this up. You don’t have to do this on your own, it isn’t healthy,” Tony says. 

And that just makes the monster in his chest angrier because despite Peter being the most ungrateful brat, Tony’s still being nothing but kind to him, showing him love. He doesn’t deserve it. He can’t stand it. 

“Says you,” he says, shoving a hand through his hair and wiping his eyes as discreetly as he can. “And either way, I don’t need to talk about my fucking feelings. I need May back. Unless you can find a way to do that, I don’t care what you have to offer. You hated your parents, you have no idea what it’s like to lose a parent that loves you.”

This finally seems to get under his skin. “My mother loved me. I know exactly what it’s like. I had Jarvis, I had Peggy, I know what it’s like to lose someone I love.”

“No, you don’t,” Peter spits back. “You’re selfish. You’ve never cared about another person unless they have something to offer you. If you cared about anyone, if you cared about me, you never would’ve come after me all those years ago. You’re the reason I became a real superhero, the reason I lost Ben, May, MJ. You’re the reason I died, missed five years. It’s all because of you.”

“Don’t you dare throw everything at me, I didn’t make you do anything-”

“When I was a kid, you were my hero. But I’ve learned your true colors since then. You’re nothing more than a selfish, cowardly, greedy, profiteer who’d do anything to get his turn in the limelight as a hero, even if it means using children to do so.”

Tony’s face goes cold, all of his most hated parts of his history thrown in his face by someone who was supposed to love him. “God, Peter, I’ve done everything I can to make sure you were okay-”

“Okay? I have nothing but you to take care of me now. I’d rather be on the streets than here another day longer.”

“You were the one person who was never supposed to betray my trust. I hate you.”

FRIDAY interrupts. “Boss, they’re waiting for you on the jet.”

“I have to go.” Tony already sounds like he regrets what he said, but Peter feels satisfied. He got what he wanted. “Fri, don’t let Peter leave the tower while I’m gone unless he has supervision. You’re grounded until further notice.”

*

It only takes all of a few seconds for Peter to break down. 

His knees hit the floor and he lets out a heaving sob, trembling like a leaf. He hates himself more than anything. He hates that he needs to throw everything away. He hates that he ruined the last relationship he had. He hates it all. He doesn’t know how to go on. He wants to be held. 

He wants Tony. 

But there’s no way Tony’s ever going to hold him or take care of him or love him after what he just put him through. 

He’s on his own.

*

He curls up in one of Tony’s old MIT hoodies on Tony’s empty bed, sniffling like a child. 

May’s gone. 

Tony’s not going to let him stay. 

He’s on a timeline now. It’s only a matter of time before Tony gets back and kicks him out. 

He calls Tony’s number again. 

There’s no answer.

*

It’s been three days. 

Pepper comes up to see him and he’s just as pathetic as before. 

“Hi, honey, is everything okay? Friday’s worried.” She comes into the room, sits on the edge of his bed, hand on his ankle. It soothes at least a little bit of his desperation to be touched. 

“I’m a monster,” Peter sniffles in response. “I yelled at him, I said all the things I promised I never would, I told him it was his fault. He hates me, he said so.”

Pepper sighs, she’s almost worse with emotions than Tony is, too tactical, logical, rational. “He doesn’t hate you, Peter. He loves you more than anything. He knows you’re having a rough time.”

“No, you should’ve heard him. He hates me. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Fri, patch us through to Tony, tell him it’s an emergency.”

Peter sits up suddenly. “It’s not, Pepper, don’t bother him, I’m just being-”

“Pep?” 

“Hi, Tony, can you talk some sense into your kid?”

Tony doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Kid, I got upset the other day, and I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You could literally murder me with your bare hands and I still wouldn’t hate you.”

“I was so mean.” He sounds like a petulant child, demanding to be heard, to get yelled at. “I called you- I said some awful things.”

Tony sighs. “Listen, I can’t talk for much longer. I’m not mad, kiddo. I was so angry after I lost my parents, I lashed out at everyone and everything, including myself. And I think that’s what you’re doing to. You didn’t do that to hurt me, you did it to hurt yourself, and I’m sorry I let it get to me. You can push me away for the rest of your life, and I will never not have your back.”

Peter curls up tighter in his bed like somehow his sheets will protect him from the world of horrors around him. He sniffles again, pulling Tony’s sweater up to his nose to breath in the soothing smell of motor oil and expensive cologne. 

“It hurts.”

“I know, kiddo,” Tony murmurs, as gentle as ever. “Over time it’ll get easier, I promise. It won’t always hurt as bad as it does right now.”

Peter’s pillow is damp beneath his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I know, bambino, it’s okay. You’re more than forgiven, alright? I’m going to be home in just a few more days. Just hang in there.”

“And I get to stay.” It’s not a question, it’s a simple statement. Tony doesn’t hate him, he’s not going to kick him out for his outburst. “Thank you.”

“I love you, kid, no thanks needed.”

Peter sniffles, mouth wobbling, breathes in the hoodie’s smell of home, says, “I love you too.”

*

Peter cleans himself up. 

It all feels like chores, like it takes all his effort to do the once simple tasks like showering, getting dressed, tidying a bit, eating. But he feels a little more human once he’s done. 

And by the time he’s a few episodes into a comfort TV show, Tony’s arriving home. 

“We finished up quicker than I thought and-”

Tony’s got an armful of teenager before he can even blink an eye. 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, breathless and desperate. There’s a hand in his hair and a kiss pressed to the crown of his head and he feels like he can finally breathe. “I didn’t mean anything I said, I’m just, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, kiddo, trust me, I know.”

Peter lets out a sigh of relief. “And you promise it’ll get easier?” 

“I promise, and I also promise that I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Taglist:  @littlemissagrafina  @spideyspeaches @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames @you-did-it-sir @not-today-thx @fandomstuffff {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[pterodactylschreech]

Entangled

(One-shot based on this post)

Lena looks beautiful tonight.

She's all Kara can think about, despite being surrounded by everyone she loves. Her eyes track back every few seconds no matter where she treks in the apartment or how much her family and friends vie for her attention. It's their first game night post-Phantom Zone and post-The Break, as Kara thinks of it. The first time everyone is back together, smiling and laughing and happy, in over a year. And they all want Kara's attention, her presence the glue for the family after her absence.

But all she can think about is Lena.

Lena sitting close on the couch while they play games. Lena passing her the last pot sticker on her plate without thought. Lena standing in the kitchen refilling her wine glass and mingling with Kelly and Brainy, at home among their friends. Kara focuses on her, intent to memorize every single detail of the other women as if she may never see her again. The crinkles by her piercing eyes when she squints in laughter at one of Nia's corny puns. The play of light on her features accentuating the sharp angle of her jaw and the soft curve of her lips. The gentle, bright look she shares with Kara when she catches her looking, a hard won relief radiating out from the woman after months of fighting one another. Kara could practically taste the joy on the air, surrounded by her little family.

Kara hopes that look means everything that her matching expression means: I love you. I'm home again, and I missed you. Hopes beyond all reason that Lena understands and is sending the same message back.

It's been a week since she returned to find Lena unemployed and living at the Tower out of a hastily packed suitcase. A week since she refused to let Lena remain in the cold and impersonal lair and convinced Lena to unofficially move in with her. She wouldn't admit it, not even to Alex, but one of the reasons Kara insisted so strongly was because she couldn't bear to sleep alone. The memories of her nightmares from her childhood after landing on Earth were enough to drench her in fear of the coming nights, the darkness and isolation that pulled her under the waves of terror. It turned out to be the best decision for both of the women as they both suffered and only found peace and reprieve when sleeping next to one another.

And it's been two days since Kara bared her soul to Alex, finally admitting the depth of her feelings for Lena after her sister told her about the decision they had been forced to make: Kara or National City. Her feelings that lay dormant for years due to her fear but surfaced to crush her under their weight during the year spent away from Lena, that grew like ivy through her heart until they covered every inch of her life. Kara sobbed into Alex's shoulder, for time lost and hope and comfort from her one constant through everything. Alex, for her part, seemed decidedly less surprised by Kara's outburst than she had expected. She let Kara expend her tears, then quietly told her it was time for Kara to choose her own happiness first. To put herself before the world and her past and her decades of fear. To tell Lena and let them be happy, together.

So now, Kara sits on her couch, surrounded by family and basking in the warmth of their love and closeness, nervous and fidgeting while she anxiously replays her prepared speech over and over in her head. For one terrifying moment, the whole situation felt excruciatingly familiar and terror spikes through her. Alex lays a hand on her bouncing knee, a distraction and reassurance that all would end well if Kara just trusted herself and Lena.

The night wore on in pleasant company until the group thinned out, pair by pair. Only Alex and Kelly remain on their way out of the apartment. Alex lingers in the doorway to give Kara an extended hug and whisper encouragement in her ear. "Good luck, Kar. Love you." She and Kelly say their last goodbye to Lena, and Kara quietly closes the door for the evening.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, Kara turns back to find Lena tossing empty take-out boxes into the recycling bin and setting their empty glasses in the sink. With her hair in a haphazard bun, Kara's NCU sweatshirt, and her cheeks pink tinged, Lena leaves Kara breathless in the entryway. The domesticity and familiarity of Lena in her clothes, in her home and cleaning up; in her glasses, forgotten after a particularly spot on impersonation during charades and still perched on the bridge of her nose, have Kara dreaming of their possible future. Of games nights and family dinners and quiet nights in that begin and end with Lena by her side.

Kara's tongue darts out to wet her lips and her hands twist together as she moves closer to Lena who has rinsed the glasses and is drying her hands on one of Kara's novelty printed dish towels. When she turns and spots Kara, hovering nearby but without fully approaching, she watches the simple movements of Kara's hands with rapt attention and smiles the same gentle grin from throughout the night. The corners of her mouth turn down slightly when she notices the focused crinkle between Kara's eyes, the unfailing sign she was deep in thought or struggling to vocalize something she found important.

Kara hardly registers the soft padding of Lena's socked feet across the floor until she reaches up to smooth the offending crinkle away with her fingertips. Kara's eyes drop closed at the gentle press, and she exhales a long held breath, focusing entirely on the point of contact and warmth to ground herself in the moment and chase any final doubts away. "Lena," Kara's voice puffs out into the quiet of their closeness. Lena's hand drifts to brush a stray curl behind Kara's ear before answering, matching her reverent tone. "What is it, darling?" Kara's eyes slide open to take in the gaze fixed on her: Lena promising safety and trust trust with nothing but the vulnerability in her eyes and the press of her hand to Kara's chest, just over where her crest materializes. It's enough to set Kara's heart beating wildly in anticipation.

"I need to tell you something. We promised each other, no more secrets. And there's one more thing I need you to know before we try this again. Our friendship, or you know, us."

Kara can see Lena's response to her words and hesitated. Lena's shoulders immediately tensing and her mouth drawing into a tight line, fighting trembling lips. She places her hand over Lena's on her chest to keep her from pulling away preemptively and to draw the strength she needs for what may come next. "Kara, what-?" "Wait, please. It's not bad, well, I don't think so, it's just, um-" Kara stops to regroup her frantic thoughts.

"Just, um, let me say what I need to say. And, if you don't, you know, feel the same or want anything to change, then none of this will matter."

Lena relaxes minutely, squinting at Kara's phrasing in suspicion and confusion. She lets Kara hold her hand in place. Once she feels Lena's tension release enough to prove she's listening, Kara plunges into her speech.

"Lena, you are my best friend. One of the two most important people to me. When we were fighting," Kara sucks in a deep breath at the lingering pain of their separation. "that was one of the hardest years of my life. All this terrible stuff was happening, and my person, the one I go to when everything feels like its falling apart, was gone. You were gone. I could still hear you and see you, but I couldn't have you. You were gone, and it was all my fault."

Hot tears spill free from Kara's eyes. When Lena reaches up to wipe them away, Kara leans heavily into her warm palm.

"Kara, darling, it's okay. We've forgiven each other. You don't need to apologize again."

A soft laugh escapes Kara's lips before she turns her head to press a kiss to Lena's palm. She speaks into Lena's hand, too nervous to see what Lena's reaction will be to her next words.

"I'm not. I'm just being honest. I lied to you for years. Willfully. Cruelly. Because I was selfish and stupid and scared. Rao, I was so scared to lose you. So, I rationalized lying day after day because I knew you'd leave when I told you. I knew the moment I said the words, it was over. No matter what I did or said, I would lose you."

The apartment was silent but for Kara's sniffles and her overflowing words.

"I did lose you." The whisper carries a year's worth of pain and longing.

"But, me being Supergirl isn't the biggest thing I haven't told you."

Lena's sharp inhale draws a fresh panicked round of tears from Kara who holds tighter to Lena's hand on her chest and forges onward quickly.

"You have to understand why I haven't said anything. It's not that I haven't wanted to; it's all I can think about sometimes. Most days now. But I couldn't. How could I- it would've been-" Kara stops and looks at Lena again, to read the expectation and shock flaring behind her green eyes. "I had to be honest about who I am before I could be honest about how I feel."

Lena joins Kara now with the first of her own tears breaking free to run down her cheeks. Kara can hear the quickening pace of her heart and focuses on the sound.

"Lena, I met you, and my whole world changed. You didn't know me during my first year as Supergirl, didn't see the rage that I could barely control or the reckless way I threw myself at every enemy. I struggled. A lot. But you showed me that we aren't bound by our family's sins. That I could hope and change and-" Kara feels the weight of the word on the tip of her tongue, rolls it around in her head another second and tastes the letters as they spill out for Lena to catch or watch shatter on the ground. "love. I met you, and I realized how deeply and fully I can love. I've lost so much, so many people, and I tend to be very protective of the love I share. But, I've learned that, despite what I've lost, the pain and the loneliness, I can love with my entire self. With all of who I am. With my heart, my body, and my soul. All that I am; all that I've experienced and will experience, everything. I can love through it and find strength in those who love me."

It was now Kara's turn to gently brush the fallen tears from Lena's cheek, one hand still holding firmly to Lena's hand on her chest.

"I've been drawn to you from the first day we met and every day after. I've never been able to fight it. Never wanted to, even when we were on opposites sides. I could never quite see through my love for you. Alex used to find it extremely frustrating, but I think she's finally come around."

Their watery laughs mingle together.

"You asked me once if I knew anything about quantum entanglement. I may know more about it than I admitted. And since that day, I haven't been able to think of you in any other way. I love you, but it isn't just that I love you. I am tethered to you, pulled across the universe to orbit you. The true source of my strength. I am entwined with you on a molecular level and in my soul. My parents sent me here to save me and to protect Kal, but something more, something bigger, maybe Rao himself, brought me to you."

Kara carefully absorbs Lena's body language, her stillness and continued silence. She seems to barely be breathing in the wake of the confession. The only sign Kara has that Lena is still listening is the furious pounding of her heartbeat reverberating through Kara's ears. Normally, even moments ago, the steady rhythm calms Kara, so much that she would take to flying over L-Corp during the past year just to hear the familiar sound. But now it leaves her uncertain and nervous. She fills the empty charged air with rambling, too anxious to wait for Lena to resume her normal functioning.

"I understand you might not feel the same, and after everything, I don't blame you. I mean, I did lie and then call you a villain and treat you pretty bad, so yeah." Kara trails off, cringing at the less than stellar stream of words her mouth chose. "So, um, if you don't want anything to change, then it doesn't have to. It won't. We can keep being friends and having game nights and movie nights. And you can obviously stay here as long as you need. I just, um, needed you to know how I feel."

The tide was open, and Kara couldn't find the ability to lock the flood gates on her mouth. Tears begin a fresh descent in the wake of her expelled anxiety.

"And I feel that I love you. That I am in love with you. I am in love with you, Lena."

Salt brines her lips, and her tongue tastes the clinging mineral as it slides out to wet them. Lena remains stoically still in her position pressed to Kara and swimming in her own trickle of tears. Kara notes the slowing of them, the crystalline droplets that drip from her jaw to the floor. She watches Lena's lips part and the quick flicker of her green eyes over Kara's face, landing first on her own blue eyes, then her nose, her cheeks, the scar above her eyebrow, before settling lower on her trembling lips.

She can't stand the limbo, the electric deja vu and mixture of fear and hope.

"Lena, please say something."

In reflection, Kara knows the moment, the span of seconds between her plead and Lena's reaction, only lasted the length of a heartbeat. But in the beat between her words and Lena's movement, Kara felt the weight of every loss she's suffered, every end. And every beginning. Every beautiful Earth sunrise and blossoming friendship. Anticipation swelled painfully behind her ribcage, her heart preparing to drop or soar.

In that moment, Lena held more power over Kara than any amount of Kryptonite ever could. With one second she could either crush Kara beneath one more disappointment and loss, or she could fuel Kara more powerfully than the yellow sun.

Kara's throat tenses with choking tears as she opens her mouth to withdraw every word to ever steal its way past her lips, but Lena blocks any hasty retreat half-formed with her own lips pressing firmly against Kara's. She pushes forward, bumping their noses and pressing her body impossibly closer, their hands still trapped between the mingling beats of their hearts.

Locked and entwined. Entangled over an invisible crest.

When her lips meet Kara's, soft but sure and insistent, Kara's mind blissfully silences but for the rapid fire pleasure of feeling and Lena. The burning desire in her chest spreading through her limbs and begging for more. More skin, more lips, more pressure. More Lena. All around her, flooding her senses until there's nothing left but the two of them.

It's everything and more than she imagined. Her nose fills with nothing but the sweet perfume Lena wears daily, and the lavender undertones of her own conditioner in Lena's hair. For once, the world quiets in Kara's hypersensitive ears, condensed to the sighs escaping Lena's mouth as she leans further into their kiss. And it's the taste that leaves Kara dazed and desperate for the next kiss. The fruity wine clinging to Lena's tongue and the underlying taste that is distinctly Lena. Unlike anything Kara has ever tasted and addictive from the first touch of Lena's tongue to her own.

They remain in their embrace, erasing any space that crept between them during their fighting and time apart. Even after breaking for air and resting their foreheads together, reveling in one another, they stay close. Kara can't fight the broad smile stretching across her face, and she hears Lena's matching grin in her words, reverently whispered in their shared breaths.

"And I love you, Kara. All of you. Always."

AO3 link

[c-rose2081]

I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT YOUR HAUNTED MANSION OCS. Can you tell us more?? Please??? Like what's their story?

Haha glad you asked, actually! They have an entire story which I’ve just never gotten around to writing out all in one place :)

The Constantine Family originally hails from upstate New York, and was a wealthy and prominent name in automobiles in the 1920’s. In 1927, Mr. Constantine bought an old manor from the state of Louisiana, after the original owner passed away unexpectedly and had no next of kin. He bought the manor for his daughter Grace, who had lost her mother to a case of Influenza just a few months prior.

Grace was born prematurely, and was considered a frail and weak child. She never attended public schooling due to the fear of her possibly catching disease, and suffered from asthma as well as some auto-immune issues. Losing her mother to flu was devastating, and Doctors suggested that Mr. Constantine move her elsewhere, to lessen the stress on her frail body. They also worried about possible disease still lingering in their old home which could compromise her, so Mr. Constantine bought the Louisiana Manor as a home away from home as they grieved.

In New Orleans, Mr. Constantine had a business partner named Theodore March who also held shares in automobiles. March was wealthy, and enjoyed hobbies like sport hunting and cigars. But he also had a notorious temper, and a taste for beautiful women. He went to visit the Constaintine’s when they first moved into the Manor, and he fell instantly in love with young Grace. Though sickly, she had grown up quite beautiful, and was a quiet, gentle soul. March attempted a few times that first visit to woo her, but she was resolute in her silence and he left determined to win her hand.

As Mr. Constantine worked to expand his automobile empire in Louisiana, he hired two local men to act as family drivers, as well as many others to become staff for the Mansion. Harrod Barker and Rudolph ‘Rolo’ Martin were best childhood friends, both down on their luck, and happy to accept the work. Harrod and Mr. Constantine were a quick match; Rolo was left at the estate lest the young mistress of the house need to go anywhere.

He didn’t see Grace at all for the first month or so of working at the manor, so he took to maintaining a small patch of pumpkins on sight which were badly neglected by the gardeners. This is where Grace found him on a particularly dreary fall day, her eyes red rimmed from crying as she explained her need to go into town to buy a new pair of gloves, as her current pair had a hole. Rolo gladly accepted, and even bought her a small sewing kit while in town in case she ever wanted to fix her old pair. From that point, Grace emerged more and more to meet Rolo in the pumpkin patch, where she would request to be driven into town. On days she didn’t need anything, Grace had small miscellaneous tasks which she asked Rolo to complete for her such as reaching dusty places on high windows, or helping her straighten picture frames. Eventually, Grace would simply stand nearby as Rolo worked with the pumpkins, often reading poetry from her literature lessons aloud, or simply enjoying the outdoors and the company. They soon went on small picnics together, or Rolo tried (and failed) to help Grace whenever she baked in the kitchen. She introduced him to her horse, and he would take her riding when she was feeling well enough.

All the while, Theo March was still courting for Grace’s hand. He sent extravagant gifts, letters and flowers which were dutifully ignored. He even went as far as to approach Mr. Constantine about a possible courtship, but was laughed off as Grace was known to be quite shy. He didn’t find out about Grace and Rolo’s quickly blossoming romance until he spotted them in town. The two were in a clothing store, where Grace was insisting on new gold latches for Rolo’s belt and suspenders. Naturally, March was livid at the discovery. Not only because Grace had ignored his interest and gifts, but because Rolo was poor and ‘of bad standing’ in society.

Grace confessed her love to Rolo after a particularly nasty coughing fit and fainting spell she had one afternoon, where he heroically carried her into the house (in front of all the staff) without hesitation and cared for her until she was well again. The two shared a first kiss in secret, but it didn’t stay that way as Grace insisted on getting married. Rolo didn’t mind, as he was crazy for her as well, and they went to her father together. Mr. Constantine was a very open minded man, who cared only about his daughters happiness, and blessed the union. The wedding was set, and all seemed perfect. However, Theodore March was furious. His courtship had turned to obsession, and after finding out Grace and Rolo were to be married he was driven mad with rage.

On the night of her wedding, while Grace was inside getting ready, Harrod and Rolo were outside enjoying cigars. Rolo insisted he check on the pumpkin patch before the ceremony, as it reminded him of Grace who would soon be his wife. Here, dressed to be married, a black figure on a stolen horse used a hatchet to take off Rolo’s head. The killer was none other then Theodore March, who continued on to the house in a jealous rage. He killed Harrod with a hatchet to the chest on the way in, and he died on the hood of Mr. Constantine’s car. Entering the Manor, March found the wedding party and shot his own business partner in the head and killed him. Grace, still in her dress, attempted to flee but was chased through the manor (this is why she’s called the Running Bride).

She was shot twice in the back, using a handkerchief she often carried due to her coughing to try and stem the bleeding. She was close to the front door when she collapsed due to an asthma attack, and was caught by March who carried her up to the attic. Here, he told Grace that her groom had run away, too afraid of the idea of marriage. Grace didn’t want to believe it, and insisted that Rolo loved her, but was shot execution style in the forehead and killed. March then killed himself, vowing to remain with Grace in the Manor for all eternity so she couldn’t ever leave him.

In death, the spirits of that fated wedding became one with the house. Grace was cursed to re-live her last run through the manor each night, beginning at the stroke of midnight. Each time, she nearly escapes only to be caught last second by the demon of March, who still keeps her prisoner in the attic. Those who visit can often see her at the window, looking out for her lost love, or can hear her sobbing, or reading aloud from her book of literature. She’s almost never without her demon, who is latched onto her spirit and can control where she can and can’t go.

Outside the grounds, Rolo still tries to find a way into the manor each night, riding about the grounds as a pumpkin headed specter on the back of Grace’s horse. Sometimes he’ll climb the attic tower to meet his love at the window, but is quickly blasted away by March who has overall control over the inside of the house.

There are some other spirits who also dwell on the grounds, including Harrod who still drives around in a fancy black car, and Mr. Constantine who haunts the ballroom, and drinks with other ghosts of the wedding party.

•

Thanks so much for asking about my kiddos! Hopefully this helps with some of that curiosity ^^ if you have any other questions about them feel free to ask :3

[frenchpuppycormier]

I'd Follow You Wherever

(ao3)

word count: 4k

rating: T

Once again a shoutout to @femmeluthor for being my number one fan and listening to me complain ;)

Lena stares unblinking at the object in her hands and thinks about where her actions have led her, and daydreaming about what her life has become. Never in a million years did she picture this is what she’d be doing in her thirties; preparing herself to travel across the galaxy to another dimension to rescue the woman she cares most about in the world. The universe.

“You sure this is going to work?”

“It has to,” Lena quivers. Alex nods in understanding. “I don’t know what else to do, Alex. Nothing feels right without her. I-I can’t sleep at all, I’m constantly thinking about her and how she is, I think my hair is falling out, I can’t walk by our favorite restaurant anymore without crying…I can barely eat, and when I do it just comes back up. All I feel is this constant, aching pain and it’s sucking me dry. I don’t know what to do,” she chokes out a sob and her hands start to tremble. “Alex, I have to do this!”

Sensing a panic attack of larger proportions on the horizon, Alex steps forward and pulls her into a gentle, yet firm hug. “Hey,” she squeezes her back with one hand while the other runs soothingly along Lena’s shoulder blade and arm. Resting her head against hers, Alex murmurs, “It’s okay. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do. I just wish we had another way.”

Lena leans back and looks at her incredulously with pinched brows, “What, you don’t think I can do this?”

Alex huffs and lets out a soft chuckle. “Lena, no. That’s not what I’m saying.” Noticing Lena isn’t standing down from her natural defensiveness, she rolls her eyes. “You really don’t see it?”

“Please, enlighten me,” she gestures as if telling her to continue.

“Lena,” Alex shakes her head and rests her palms on Lena’s shoulders. “I already lost Kara; I can’t lose you too. I mean, I know you and I never really got a chance to make things right, but I’d like to think we’re friends, don’t you?”

A stray tear drops from Lena’s eye and she wipes it with her thumb before sniffling. She cracks a smile and deflects, “Since when did you become so sentimental?”

Alex releases her hold and laughs, “Well, having Kara as a sister does that to me. Lately it’s occurred to me that life’s too short to be a hard ass all the time, as cheesy as it sounds. And you know, Kelly is a therapist.” That gets a chuckle out of Lena. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized you’re the closest thing I have to Kara right now, and to be honest…I think you’re pretty special, Lena.”

The former CEO’s eyes widen with the admission. “Thank you,” her voice cracks. She clears her throat, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Alex jokingly salutes her but quickly grows serious again. She huffs loudly and her eyes dart around the room before settling on Lena’s face. The woman looks back with a worried gaze.

“What?” Lena asks. “Alex, what is it?”

“Nothing, I just,” she shakes her head and gathers her wits. She stands straighter and crosses her arms in front of her chest, and with her head held high she says, “I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Alex, no,” she states firmly. “We agreed—”

The auburn-haired woman shakes her head. “We,” Alex gestures her finger between the two of them, “Didn’t agree on anything. You strutted in here with your proclivities and decided what was happening without allowing the rest of the group any say in it.”

“Alex…”

“I’m going with. It’s final,” Alex states and saunters over to the control panel in the center of the tower.

Lena scoffs and follows her, yelling at her turned back, “The hell you are! The deal was I go and you stay here in case anything happens to me. That way, you still have a fighting chance to save Kara and I, I will have tried my best, but I did what I could and you’ll get to move on.” Lena pauses for a second and emphasizes, “With Kara.”

Alex whips her head around and shoots daggers at her, causing Lena to startle and shrink back. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Lena’s nostrils flare in retaliation, but Alex keeps going. “I’m sick of you putting yourself on the line all the time. You’re just like Kara and it’s annoying as fuck!” She laughs tiredly as an epiphany enters through her brain. “You guys are perfect for each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Lena. You can’t be that dense,” Alex says, with mild exasperation. “Kara loves you, she’s in love with you, but she’s been too afraid to tell you because of the whole secret identity mishap. She already made a huge mistake which pissed you off, she didn’t want to risk losing you again, or your friendship, by speaking it into existence…And you!” she points accusingly at Lena. “You are too stubborn to admit your feelings out loud, so you bury them deep down inside because you think Kara will deny you or laugh at you, but if you actually think that then you really don’t know my sister at all.”

Lena’s mouth is hanging open by the time she’s done. She quickly closes it and swallows thickly before replying. “She loves me?”

Alex deflates and smiles softly. “Honey, she almost risked the entire timeline to tell you her secret earlier than when she actually did. I’d say she loves you.”

“Wait, what—”

“We’ll get to that part later, but for right now we’re running out of time,” Alex grabs the device from Lena. “So, ready to go rescue my sister?”

Lena eyes her suspiciously, “We’re not done with this conversation.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a girl scout,” Lena snatches back the device. “I’ll take that. Took me all night to make this. I’m not risking it in your hands.”

Alex smirks, “’Kay, so remind me how this works again? Just so everything’s clear?”

“Well…basically we open up a portal to the Phantom Zone, then once we step through, this,” Lena holds up the device, “Will allow us to track Kara and her location. I took the nanobots to map the brains of the progeny we have in containment. Then, I used q-waves to replicate Malefic’s powers, and M’gann’s sensing abilities, and with the help of Kara’s DNA I was able to calibrate the device to the right frequency, which is how we’ll find her. All of this to make one simple tracking device. Again. Y’know, since you stole the first one I made.”

Alex winces under Lena’s intense glare. “I said I was sorry.”

“No worries, all is forgiven,” the former CEO smirks.

Alex releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, so then how will we know exactly where Kara is?”

“The device will chirp when we’re in her radius.”

“Is there any way we can narrow it down? Like to her exact coordinates or something? The Phantom Zone is a large place.”

“I wish I could say there was another way, but I’m afraid this is all we have,” Lena deflates. “You’re not about to back out already, are you?”

Alex purses her lips. “No way, Luthor. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Lena lifts her arm and presses the button to the portal watch. She glances at Alex and smiles, “Let’s go get our girl.”

.

.

.

Lena doesn’t know how long it takes them. Her watch tells her it’s been a week, but time in the Phantom Zone is different, so for all she knows it’s been a month since they’ve been roaming around searching for Kara.

Her feet are dragging with every step and she can tell Alex is just as exhausted and sluggish as she is. She knows they need to take a break and rest. She knows this. But she also knows the longer they wait, the longer they are away from Kara. The longer Kara has been here suffering by herself, and Lena can’t have that. No, she needs to get to Kara as fast as possible. Before it’s too late.

They pass a large boulder and after a minute of no random ramblings from Alex’s mouth, or fun facts to distract them, Lena frowns and stops. She turns around and sees no sign of the other woman. She squints and just barely notices a figure toppled over on their side, not moving. “Alex!”

Lena runs as fast as her legs can move her. She stumbles next to Alex and lands on her knees, the pain excruciating. Her synapses are firing throughout her body, but that’s the least of her worries right now. She shakes the older woman’s shoulders and cries out her name once more.

No response.

“Goddammit, Alex. Don’t do this to me. We’re so close!” Lena whips her backpack off and fumbles around the contents for her water bottle. Leave it to Lena to come extra prepared. She twists the cap off and pours a conservative amount on Alex’s face. It does the trick.

“Jesus, Lena!” she sputters and breathes heavily, wiping the liquid from her eyes.

“You fucking scared me half to death! What was I supposed to do?” Lena shrieks. If only her brother could see her now. He’d get a kick out of the way she’s freakishly reminiscent to a final girl and their antics.

Alex sits up with help from Lena. She swipes the bottle from her and takes a long swig, water dribbling down her bottom lip. “Thanks.”

Lena nods. “No problem.” She glances around them and shivers. “Now, I don’t know about you, but this place is giving me major Alien the movie vibes and we’re out in the open. So, how’s about we get a move on, hmm?”

“You don’t need to say ‘the movie’. You can just say Alien.”

“Alex…”

“Alright, alright,” Alex teases.

Rolling her eyes, Lena helps Alex to her feet with ease, and they continue the trek. It lasts about ten miles, until Alex needs another break. This time a chosen break. They settle along a bank of tall, pointy rocks. Lena reaches into her bag and downs a healthy amount of water.

“Hey! You gonna leave any for me?” Alex complains.

“Well maybe you should’ve brought your own!” Lena argues, but hands over the bottle anyway.

Alex thanks her and lowers herself to the ground. She grabs her ankle and winces. “Did you happen to bring a first aid kit in that bag of yours?”

Lena raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and huffs, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” She crouches next to Alex, takes off her bag, and rifles through it. While she’s distracted, she barely notices her surroundings and doesn’t have time to react to the feeling of a slight pinch on her arm.

She slowly turns her head and looks over to see Alex retract her hand, which holds a syringe. A wave of nausea hits Lena hard and her vision blurs. The last thing she sees is a snarling Alex before she succumbs to darkness.

When she wakes up it’s to pitch black surroundings, save for a small fire burning by her feet. Sosmall, in fact, it shouldn’t even be considered a fire. It’s merely smoldering embers, wisps of smoke on the verge of dying. Lena goes to move her arms but they’re being constrained be something. She mentally catalogues the environment around her, and realizes her wrists are tied together behind her back with rope, and her arms are wrapped around a tree. The only tree for miles.

Why would Alex do this? she thinks. I thought we were friends. Or was she just playing me the whole time to get close to me? And when she finally gained my trust, she twisted the proverbial knife into my gut. But for what? There’s nothing her for her to gain.

Lena groans and struggles against her confines.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice startles her from her reverie. “Good.”

“Alex,” Lena croaks, her throat parched. “Why are you doing this?”

Alex laughs like a hyena catching its prey. “Can’t you see? You’re just a dumb, pathetic weakling who never learns. You trust too easily, even though you know everyone will eventually betray you. You’re worthless,” Alex spits. “Twisted and evil; you’re a Luthor, just like your brother. Who would ever love you?”

Lena trembles, tears prickling her eyes. “No…”

“Everything you touch turns to ash. Kara’s probably dead because of you. The world hates aliens, because of you. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done,” Alex’s face slowly morphs into Lex’s sneering face, and suddenly everything feels wrong. “We could’ve had it all, Lena. We could’ve built something together, but you had to go and play hero, didn’t you?”

“No!” Lena chokes.

Lex steps closer so he’s towering of her, the light from the fire burning shadows across his sunken face. “You never learn, Lena. You don’t deserve the Luthor name. Supergirl is mine and you can’t stop me.” He puts his hands in his pant pockets like he just landed a deal, the confidence radiating off him as he walks away.

“W-Where are you going?” Lena yells. “What are you going to do?”

He turns around to look at her one last time and says, “To do what you couldn’t; I’m going to kill Supergirl.” He struts off into the distance with the only sound being Lena’s screams echoing throughout the wide berth of the canyon.

Lena screams until her throat grows hoarse and all that comes out is thick, dry sobs. She shakes and trembles and pulls at her wrists to break free, but it’s no use. Exhaustion settles in her bones and takes over until her eyelids grow heavy, and the darkness encompasses her once again.

The next time she wakes it’s to blinding light. She squints and tries to rub her face, but remembers they’re tied behind her back. Her heart starts thumping rapidly in her chest as the panic swallows her whole. She’s all alone. Left for dead. With no way to escape. She supposes she deserves this. Alex said so herself, who would ever love her?

As the day goes on her limbs grow heavy and her body gets weaker and weaker. She sighs and lets the elements do their work and take over. The last thought running through her mind before she goes is that she never got to tell Kara how she felt. Closing her eyes, Lena hears a voice in the back of her mind repeating her name. It’s getting louder and louder, but she doesn’t care. All she wants to do is sleep.

She hears the same voice yell her name again, sounding so close, yet far away. The voice is muffled as if she’s underwater.

“LENA!”

With no warning, she feels a jolt of pain in her ribs, and like her body is shocked with adrenaline, her eyes blast wide open and she wheezes. The first thing she notices is Alex hovering over her with worried eyes.

Alex sags in relief, “Oh, thank God.”

“Get away from me!” Lena shudders and backs away on her hands, palms scraping against the rough terrain.

“Woah! Hey, what’s going on?” Alex pleads holding her hands out in a placating gesture.

“You left me for dead,” Lena whimpers, tears threatening to fall. “You just left me there, all alone.”

Alex frowns, “What? No, Lena. Hey, look at me,” Alex tentatively reaches her hand toward the brunette like one would when dealing with a spooked animal. She grabs her chin as those glassy eyes morph into something akin to tentativeness. “You’re okay. None of that was real. It was all in your head.”

After quiet contemplation and realizing what she’s saying holds true, Lena sighs deeply and nods. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were just resting and I heard you whimpering in your sleep. I thought something was seriously wrong.”

Lena stares blankly at her. “But I don’t remember falling asleep….”

Alex’s eyebrows pinch together. “What do you—”

That’s when Lena notices the phantom looming in the dark. Its eyes are glowing red and its hands are buzzing with an energy as if taking control of someone’s mind.

“It’s him. He was playing tricks on us!” Lena whisper shouts and shuffles to her feet in one swift motion. She grabs Alex’s hand and pulls her away before the phantom wakes up. “We need to go. Right now!”

.

.

.

They make it to the edge of a ravine and Lena stops short, her mind spiraling with confusion. It must show on her face, because Alex notices something’s off almost immediately.

“What is it?” Alex asks.

“I’ve been here before,” Lena mutters, mostly to herself. If it weren’t for their close proximity, Alex probably wouldn’t have heard her.

“What? That’s impossible…”

Lena shakes her head. “No, not literally. I was here in my dream,” she rolls her eyes at herself. “Or rather, what the phantom put inside my head. This has to mean something!” At that exact moment, the tracking device in Lena’s hands lights up and shrills harshly. “She’s close! Kara’s close!” she grins widely, excitement swelling her cheeks.

As Lena walks away, the device growing louder with each step, Alex grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back effectively stopping her in her tracks. “What if it’s a trap?”

“We’ve come this far. We can’t stop now,” Lena rips her arm away and trudges on, leaving Alex in the dust. Alex quickly catches up with her and wordlessly makes it known that she’s got her back.

The duo makes it to a point where the device is droning out a constant beep. “She’s here!” Lena exclaims. Here is a maze of jagged rocks and what can only be described as molten lava.

“Fuck! How are we supposed to find her in here?!” Alex rubs her temples.

“Shh,” Lena grabs her wrist. “Do you hear that?” Alex lowers her hands and listens for any noise in the vicinity. A quiet whimper emerges from somewhere to their left. Lena blames it on the lack of sun in the decrepit place, blames the lack of light for why they were unable to see a small figure leaning on the rocky wall, hidden in the shadows.

“Kara?” Lena gasps. She creeps forward careful not to startle her. “Kara,” she says, louder this time.

“Who’s there?” Kara asks, trembling slightly and shuffling away so she’s pressed up against the wall. Her normal demeanor is completely forgotten and it’s morphed into rigidity and stiffness.

Alex’s body betrays her and she collapses to the ground in a heap, her hands covering her mouth in shock. Tears trickle down her cheeks. Lena glances back over her shoulder and softens in understanding.

Lena crouches down closer to Kara and as soon as her eyes adjust to the dark, she chokes on her own breath. Kara’s once bright, sapphire eyes are now pale and grey. They’re slowly losing the light inside of her, and becoming something dark and lost. “Kara,” she whispers.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Kara’s eyes dart around like she’s frantically searching for something.

“Hey, it’s me,” she sits on her knees facing her, itching to reach out and touch her. “It’s Lena. Listen to my voice.”

Kara shakes her head furiously, tendrils of hair bouncing off her shoulder. “No. No, Lena can’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“Darling, it’s me. Okay?”

“No. No, no, no, no,” Kara cries, her body shaking with every utterance.

Lena doesn’t fight it anymore and she clasps onto Kara’s flailing hands. “It’s me, Kara. I’m here. Your Lena,” she lifts Kara’s hands and places them on her own face. “I had to find you myself, I couldn’t trust anyone else to do it without fail. I supposed that’s selfish of me, but when it comes to you I’d do anything.”

Kara begins tracing over Lena’s features with deft fingers, every worry line and wrinkle. She starts with the eyebrows she’s become quite accustomed to, then continues with the swell of her cheekbones and sharp jawline, moving over to the slope of her nose, and finally settling her thumbs on plump, parted lips. Her favorite pair of lips. Lena’s breath hitches from Kara’s tender searching.

Once she’s done, Kara rests her forehead on Lena’s and faintly sobs, hands gripping underneath her jaw and along her neck. “It really is you,” Kara closes the distance and slowly, but with steady determination, kisses her. Lena’s lips are soft and warm compared to the acrid burning that’s constantly surrounded her since she’s been in this place. She sighs, causing a breathy moan to emerge from Lena, and she pulls back to breathe in the woman before her. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that.”

Lena laughs and Kara melts at the sound, forgetting such a simple thing could cause her so much joy. Kara opens her eyes and she almost chokes on her breath from the shiny, emerald eyes gazing back at her with nothing but love. “Lena,” she breathes.

“Kara?”

“I see you. Rao, you’re so beautiful,” she gushes.

Lena’s cheeks become a light dusting of pink with that admission, and she dips her head bashfully. “You’re not so bad yourself, Supergirl.”

Kara grins and gently tilts Lena’s head up. She leans her forehead on Lena’s again, playfully bumping their noses against each other, while softly rubbing her thumbs over Lena’s cheeks, just below her eyes. “I really want to kiss you again,” she whispers.

“I look forward to doing a whole lot more of that, but let’s get you home first, yeah? I’m still concerned about getting you somewhere safe.” Kara nods mutely and smiles morosely. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Lena stands and reaches for her hands. She’s not expecting Kara to be that light, so when she pulls her up Kara stumbles forward and nearly topples over her. Lena catches her fall and before she can say anything, the Kryptonian is encircling her arms around Lena and murmuring into her neck, “I missed you so much.” Lena tightens her hold and squeezes her back. “Me too.”

Kara pulls back and tilts her head to the side. “Are you here alone?”

Lena shakes her head, “No, Alex is here too. She’s right there,” she nods to her right and frowns at Kara. “Could you not hear her?”

“I was a little distracted…” she shrugs smugly.

Lena responds by unconsciously licking her lips. She catches herself and pushes the thoughts of strong arms and legs out of her head, and rolls her eyes. The raven-haired woman pulls Kara over to Alex and whispers, “Alex?”

The older woman wipes her eyes and stands up. When she takes in the sight of her sister, she completely breaks. “Kara!” Alex engulfs her in a hug, causing an oof to emerge from the hero. Kara responds by wrapping an arm around her sister’s neck, with one of Lena’s hands still connected with her free hand.

“Alex,” Kara weeps. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are you kidding me?” Alex pulls back. “I couldn’t let this one over here take the reins,” she jabs a thumb toward Lena, who scoffs.

“Who was it that saved your ass? And got us here in the first place?” Lena claps back.

“Semantics,” Alex waves a hand nonchalantly.

Kara grins at the interaction between her sister and her best friend. She sure missed a lot while she was incapacitated in the Phantom Zone, but if this is one of the outcomes, she thinks maybe it was worth it. She’s only ever wanted for Lena to become a part of her family, and she’s giddy at the sight of seeing her get along so well with Alex. Even if things are bound to change, at least she has her two favorite women with her. It doesn’t matter what happens next if it means they’re by her side.

“Ready to go home, goofball?” the girl of steel questions.

Alex sticks out her tongue but smiles anyway. “Yes, please.”

Kara grabs a hold of Alex’s hand while her other wrapped around Lena’s waist. She squeezes her hip and kisses her temple. “Ready when you are.” Lena leans into her touch and lifts her wrist one last time. As she glances at the two sisters beside her, she smiles and thinks about how lucky she is. She presses the button and together they walk through the portal.

Back to National City.

Back to their family.

Back home.

[missingartist]

The Witcher’s Mate- Chapter 25

In all honestly, if someone told her that she would willingly allow Geralt to carry her off, she would have laughed at them. Adva told herself that if any man ever tried to carry her off, she would kick and scream till she escaped their clutches. The idea of having someone carrying her made her feel pathetic and vulnerable; she didn’t need anyone to do that until now. The inside of the castle was only fractionally warmer than the outside, with the unfortunate bonus that the thick stones that protected them from the biting wind seem to store the icy cold. Adva was sure back when there were enough Witchers to inhabit Kaer Morhen it was warm and toasty, with the raging fire ablaze throughout the fort. Now, however, it was freezing and barren. Her feet were already numb from the walk to the stronghold from the lake in what could barely be called a stitch of clothing. Stepping on the glass vial also hadn’t been the best idea, she was certain half of the blasted container was embedded in her foot, she could feel a steady stream of blood flow from foot and the tail tale sounds of the delicate droplets splattering against the stone. Even without her injuries, she couldn’t see herself being capable of finding her way back to her room.

But she wasn’t going to her room, she knew the second he stomped up the stairs that wasn’t the way to her chambers, but she couldn’t bring herself to care if he brought her to his room at least it meant he would stay with her. After the sour note that Cersi and Yennefer left on, she feared what would happen to her and him if they felt so inclined to return. And the thought of being more than an arms reach away from him filled her with dread. But the dread faded as he carried her up a winding staircase towards the very top of the forts highest tower.

Without dropping her, he kicked open the heavy wooden door with a bang and softly depositing her on the bed. The room was not what she expected; it was filled with several pieces of fine furniture, beautifully decorated rugs and tapestries. In the centre, opposite a grand stone fireplace, a large mahogany four-poster bed stood boldly, draped in rich green silk. It was a gorgeous room, fit for a king but had been left in a state, books and papers littered the floor and food left to go stale since his self banishment to the lake house. Her nose wrinkled as the smell of spoiling fruits and overripe cheese as the Witcher appeared in front of her with a jar of salve and a thick blanket that he dropped over her to protect her modestly while he knelt on the floor and examine her bloody foot. The sound of running water softly filling the background.

‘Sorry about the room. I wasn’t expecting…’ The golden eyes glanced up at her before quickly looked back at her injured foot.

Not trusting herself to speak, she continued to gaze upon the Witcher and felt a pang of guilt tore through her as she looked at his warn face, dark circled strain underneath his golden eyes, which seemed dimmer somehow. Golden skin seemed to have faded too, and even the bronzed hue was not enough to hide the sickly pallor that marred his skin. She had done that, her inability to see through Yennefer’s interference and her stubbornness has caused the prolonged suffering of not just her but him. Yet here he was tending to her so carefully in made her want to cry, she could scarcely feel the sting as he pulled the sliver of glass from her foot and smoothed in the salve, causing a weak giggle to erupt from her.

‘Someone is ticklish’ Geralt chuckled lowly as he raised to his feet and sent her a half-smile, it was a small one but a smile nevertheless, more then he had done in the past month at least. ‘Come on a little flower.’ Geralt purred and wrapped tightly in the blanket, and he strode over to a door half-hidden behind the chest of draws.  Inside a cloud of steam warmed against her skin, blinking her way past the mist, she was in a grand bathing room. The room was large, decorated with a folded ornate dressing screen edged in gold and glisten wood that stood out against the white porcelain of the washing bowl and pitcher.  The hulking Witcher settled her down on the edge of marble stone trough that dominated the middle of the room. Peering down, she watched the oil swirl around in the depth of water and filled the room with a heady fragrance of citrus and blossom.

‘You can em warm yourself in the tub. Towels are on the side.’ Geralt spoke through the thick mist of the heat of the room; she could see his gaze fascinated with the corner of the dresser screen. ‘I’ll be…I’ll be er next door if you need me.’ Geralt mumbled as he slowly retreated towards the door.

Adva couldn’t help but smile as she watched the big bad Witcher scurry from the room. But even after the door was firmly shut, she stared pensively, before, with a sigh,  she shredded the last remains of her clothes and submerging herself in water.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Geralt did not like uncertainly; he was a creature of action by his very nature, hesitation for a Witcher meant a very short life and a grizzly end. Now he wasn’t sure of anything, and that ambiguity was gnawing at him. From the moment he heard the bottle creak underfoot his heart soared like an eagle in flight over the Witchers trail, even more so when he watched his little goddess order Triss to throw the blonde mage through a portal. He was certain then she has made her choice but now, now in his room he wasn’t so sure.

He busied himself, washing in the wooden tub that has been placed in front of the fire seven winters ago during the great freeze. The circular tub was luxurious enough to satisfy him and filling the tube in the bathing room seemed more effort, then it was worth it. His wash was quick, removing any mud and leaves from his body and hair. Before shrugging a robe gifted from Duchess of Toussaint on his last excursion, it was a little flamboyant for his taste, but it covered himself and let him attend to his business with some modesty. He cleared the debris of the weeks prior and crafted a large fire to warm up the room. The sheets were clean enough, and he did not care to change them; he had other things of more importance to worry about, like Cersi and his mates mother.

They would be a problem which would need careful consideration and planning, but thankfully Kaer Morhen was the most impregnable fortress. They were landlocked, so the fear of a Merpeople army was not at the forefront of the list. Cersi was devious, and a threat, but the castle could be mage-proofed. But not to be forgotten was the threat from Adva unknown banished brother, he has already sent one assassin, he could send another or far worse. A weary hand rubbed over his face; he would keep her safe no matter what.

‘Hi.’

Turning around Geralt couldn’t stop a primitive growl from pushing its self through his chest and out through his mouth. There she was wrapped in a towel, smiling at him, all pink and fresh. The orange blossoms and bergamot oil lingered on her skin, but the scent of apple and salt overpowered them and sent his heart racing. She had rejected her chance to escape him and was here, with him, near-naked.

‘You better get dressed. I will….’ He forced out in a gruff low tone.

‘Stay’ a voice that sounded very similar to her own demanded the Witcher. He should go, they had a lot to discuss  yet the mere thought of their parting cause her a great deal of pain.

‘Don’t….Don’t….say it if you don’t mean it I can't….’ Geralt voice wavered as it cut from the tension that churned in the air between him.

Reaching out she clutched his hand it hers, there was no warmth, his skin still suffering from trudging back to the stronghold in nothing but his breeches. Staring up at his piercing eyes, she cradled his large hand between her smaller one and towards her chest.

‘I… don’t understand what might happen, but I know we are stronger together. I…. I want to face this together. Properly. I want to BE with you.’ Adva forced herself to look up at him, to staring into the whirling mass of his golden eyes.

Geralt stared at his mate, his eyes burning into her skin, looking for a sign, any sign. It was unnerving to wait under the heavy gaze of her blues eyes. A small smile curved across her pouting lips and shy eyes looked up at him. His lovely mate brought her lips to his hand and kissed them. It was soft and tender; the heat from her lips surged through him and set off a raging fire within him. All the want he felt for her, the touched starvation, the neediness. A rumbling growl vibrated through the room, setting a trail of goosebumps across the paleness of her skin and a soft blush to creep up and rest on her cheeks. The last grasps on control slipped, and he surged forward, a scooped her into his aching arms, one hand under her knees and the other supporting her back as he brought into a searing kiss.

Adva found herself being lowered down into the middle of the bed, the hulking frame of her mate hovering over her, his lips moving against hers in a passionate embrace.

 The anticipation and desire washed across Adva’s body as Geralt rested himself between her open legs, legs she parted widely to accommodate the Witchers thick body. Tentatively, she moved her hands across his golden skin. Heaving an eager breath, she licked her lips and again reached for her mate, her love. She was hungry for him in a way she'd never felt before, and she had to have him close, nestles between her thighs.

 Geralt pulled back, and his features blossomed into a devilish smile. Delight and devotion were coursing through his body; their teeth clacked slightly at the sudden force of their kiss but neither relented. Adva opened her mouth for him, and he took advantage of her submission by thrusting his tongue into her willing mouth. Her kiss lacked his skill, but it was full of love and want. Reaching up, she tangled her hand in his ashen locks, and the others gripped his bicep relishing the quivering muscle underneath her touch. Not to be outdone it seemed, Geralt grabbed her again under her thighs and hoisted her up so she could wrap her legs back around his waist as he continued to attention down her neck and finally to suck gentle on her collarbone, causing the most indecent moan to mew from her, which seemed to spur the Witcher on as he nipped at her neck. The feel of his teeth sliding across her neck was enough to cause her whole body to tense, tightening her thighs hold against the Witchers hips, dragging their cores against each other.

 With a grunt, Geralt pulled back to rest his forehead against her, his body almost trembling above hers. Panting, she was confused. Her brows furrowed, and her lips pouted. She watched as his eyes screwed shut and his brow pucked in his usual pensive look.

 "Adva," his throaty voice snapped her back to herself, "You …..you have to tell me now if you aren’t ready….I don’t think I will be able to stop this if we go any further. I…want you too badly.’Geralt voice wavered, almost breaking as he spoke.

 Her heart soared and broke at the same time. If she hadn’t have been so stubborn, she might have already been claimed, and the suffering they both had to endure wouldn’t have been. Yet, after the pain she had caused him, he was, as always, being so careful with her. Smiling up at him, she rose up on her forearms to meet his gaze.

 ‘I don’t want to be without you. I need you…Please don’t make me wait any longer.’

 The plea from her was all that he seemed to need.

 He pulled back onto his knew as he tore off the robed from his shoulders, and tossed it across the room, joined shortly by her towel. She was bare in front of him for the first time; any attempt to cover herself was met by a furiously deep growl and her desire to please him outweighed her want for modesty. Besides, her attention had settled in taking on her mate or more importantly, between his thighs. She had absolutely no basis for comparison apart from the brief glimpse she had seen in the Brightwater Whorehouse. They all appear inferior to her own dear Witcher. It bounced and swayed with his movements. It curved out from his body, looking rigid and swollen. A lowly rumble pulled her from her gaze and back to the Witcher who, with dark eyes, began once more to take his place over her. But for her hand to shot out against his chest, pausing him in his movements.

 ‘Please…let me.’ Her soft voice pleaded.

 Geralt stopped moving above her; hungry eyes searched across her face as she gently raised herself and let her fingertips trace the surface of his skin. His hands came down to clasp her knees, but she was still focused on exploring his arms and torso. He was perfect muscle; his body didn’t seem real as if chiselled in marble. Catching her lip between her teeth, she felt his eyes burn into her, but she steeled herself, she dared herself to touch his cock as it hung proudly between them. Fascinated, she watched her hand run up and down the length of him. He was thick and hot; she was amazed at how reactive he was, how his chest juddered and stifled moan caught in his throat. Wrapping her hand around the base, her small hands could scarcely fit around him as she sheepishly stroked upward.

Geralt's strangled grunt brought her gazed away from his cock, but her hand's slow movement didn’t pause.

 Darting her gaze back to his, his eyes were almost completely black, just a thing circle of gold remained, his jaw clenched tight, and she watched as bronzed callous hand pulled at her arm trapping it on the bed next to her. She had no idea what to do next, but she knew what her body wanted. She felt so empty, body clutching at nothing, wanting to be filled and mated. Her core was wet and in need of her mate.

 Geralt’s hand left hers as they continued onward until she felt the skin of his palms and fingers caress the skin of her stomach. Inwardly she winced, her soft and flabby stomach was not attractive, but the moan that pushed itself from his lips was enough to let her forget her insecurities. His hands roamed, seemingly enthralled with the dip of her belly button followed the skin up towards her breasts, they locked eyes again, and a deep blush bloomed across her body.  She remembered his touch from before, but this was different, it seemed more real than the time before.

 ‘Gods, I love your blush.’ Geralt all but moaned as his fingers ran across each rib below her breasts.

 She felt her nipples harden and her breast perk into delicate peaks under Geralt's lusty stare. She wanted to explore every dip and ridge of his body but was more than content to allow him to explore first.

 Skillfully, her mate lowered himself down onto her, which was too much. To feel the heat of their bodies burn together sinfully. Crowd his hulking frame against her small figure before returning to nip and suck down jaw and neck. A wanton groan tore from her in a needy whine, her body surrendering to his teasing. Soft whimpers continued to fall from her lips as he leisurely worked his way down her neck until he was placing sucking kisses across the top of her breasts.

 Adva’s back arched his mouth began to suckle on the right nipple; his other hand came up to flick and pull at the other neglected nipple. His torso pinned her juddering hips that yearned for something, anything to take away the ache within her. Her hands fisted and twisted in his hair, pulling him to her as he sucked greedily. Every movement of his mouth urged her more till she was vibrating with need.

 He released her breast with a wet plop and lowered his head to continue his kisses down her body, his hand never straying from her breasts.  A whine she didn't know she was capable of escaped her throat as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. Her body was shaking with impatience, excitement and fear.

 She watched as she kissed his way down her torso until he hovered over the most intimate part of her body, heavy eyes locking on to her own.  A primal growl roared through him as her inhaled deeply. His eyes darkened to an impossible degree, as a wicked smile blessed his lips. He looked like a predator, and it scared her, yet it thrilled her at the same time. She tried to close her legs and pull herself from his grasp, only pull her back as a glimmer of glee stretched across his features. With no effort, he pulled her back into position, holding her in place with one large hand.

 "My… kiss… little Goddess…kiss… I have to…kiss… worship you…kiss…I need to…’

 A strangled cry choked its ways out of her as he mouther kisses into her trembling thighs. It felt good. Too good. Too much. Gods. Bucking against him, a powerful snarl rippled up her body. As his hand pressed down on her hip, holding her in place, as is other hand pried shaky open legs, exposing her.

 A delicate cry poured from her as his tongue drove into her folds swirling around her clit. The feel of his tongue plunging into her core was overwhelming, too much, but she was too weak to want to escape such a sinful feel.

 One of his arms curled itself around her upper thigh, open palm against the opposite hip keeping her twisting body on the bed. Her eyes slammed shut tightly as another wave of pleasure surged through her as Geralt began to move again. His tongue was searching, alternating between circles, swirls, shapes and flicks till he found an action that brought about a cry of pleasure as she gripped the bedsheets, pushing her body up to lock eyes with him. Geralt smirked into her pussy, as he repeated the action again, and again, and again. Till it was as easy as breathing and his mate became a bubbling mess beneath him. His own moan began as her leg closed around his head, pulling him to her.

 ‘Please…..Please…Don’t….Stop….I can’t……I don’t know….Geralt.’ a string of moaned escaped her in a cry of passion.

 Geralt growled at the sound of his names fell from her lips. From now on, he would have her call his name like that at least once a day. He was merciless. He knew that he was teasing, not hard enough to bring her to the release that she craved but light enough to keep her needy and wanting. Lowering himself down to lay full on the bed, a moan vibrating her clit as his cock rubbed tortuously against the bed, the friction that he craved. Another groan pushed its way out of her throat as his fingers traced the opening.

 ‘Gods Geralt’ Adva body curled into itself as Geralt middle finger slipped into her. During her fitful attempts at masturbating, she dipped her fingers into her arching core in an attempt to get some release but never had it felt like this. His digit searched her channel. Exploring and stretching.

 Geralt let out a series of grunts as his finger sunk into her wetness. Gods, she was tight. And so hot. His eyes never left her as he plunged in and how curing how snugly she gripped at him. She was wet enough, but so tight. He kept his rhythm steady, as he worked into her till his finger hit that bundle of nerves he had desperately been searching for. Her whole body shuddered, and a flood of ecstasy rushed through her veins.

 She was so close; the feeling was overpowering. Too much but at the same time, not enough. When Geralt slipped in, she felt an uncomfortable stretch pull at her core, she mewled lowly, her hips jerking against Geralt’s hold.

 ‘You're doing so good, love.’ Geralt moaned in between furious licks as his fingers plunged swiftly in and out of her, hitting that spot again and again.

 ‘Geralt…Ohhh Geralt.’ Adva body stiffened in the bliss that built in the pit of her stomach, threatening to burst in her.

  Geralt grinned up at her as he pumped his fingers into her, curling them into her spot, his free hand sneaking up his body, messaging her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb as his tongue continued is an assault on her clit.

 The whimpers grew into cries and the cries into shrieks of ecstasy. Geralt was in rapture as he watched her body arched and trembled as her orgasm broke through her. Her mouth formed into a perfect O as a nearly inaudible scream ripped through her. A mewling moan filled the room as her body twitched as wave after wave engulfed her. Her hands clawing at the sheet trying to find anything to keep her grounded

 Geralt still between her thighs was lapping at her core, sending little after tremor thorough her as she rode out her high. When the last of the tremors subsided, she lay weightless against the pillows. Geralt was all but purring between her legs, making sure every drop of her essence was not wasted. She felt strangely energised but boneless like she has been poured onto the bed. She couldn’t help but give her mate the brightest smile she could muster as he kissed his way up her body.

 Caging her in with his forearms Geralt settled down between her thighs and lazily kissed her lips. Adva groaned into his mouth as she tasted herself. It was not unpleasant; it was musty and thick, but it was proof of what had just happened.

 ‘Mmmm I am going to spend the rest of your life devouring you.’ Geralt moan into her mouth. ‘but don’t think we are anywhere near done. You. Are. Mine.’

Sorry for the long wait- Work has been crazy so I haven’t been able to write as much as I would like. Let me know what you think. 

  @threepupsinapuddle @broco8 @introvertedmouse @luxyash @vikingsbifrost @pastelblogsposts @wastingmypotential @whitespring21 @ayamenimthiriel @wonderlandfandomkingdom @shesthelastjedi @fandom-lover-4 @sageandberries-png  @just-a-sad-donut @alicia-d-o @dreamerwithapen1 @evangeline73aster

[mooniefics]

just one night

pairing : reiner braun / reader

word count : 2.9k

tags : fluff, angst, heartache, acknowledgement of reiner’s suffering </3

summary : being a field nurse had it's ups and downs, but everything about taking care of reiner braun was the best and worst thing about your job.

— originally posted 12 / 16 / 20 on ao3 —

"oh, you're finally awake." you set the tray of medical supplies in your hands down on the small desk beside the bed, shutting the privacy curtain before you returned to his side, "i was worried about you, you know?"

though most of his body had regenerated over the seven hours he'd been unconscious, he was still missing a majority of his right hand up to the wrist, the steaming, incomplete appendage he was now examining with a tired look on his face.

"what time did they bring me in?" his voice was husky with sleep, eyes low as they flitted over to look at you.

"around eighteen hundred hours yesterday," you said, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to check his temperature, "i administered some pain meds a few hours ago, but let me know if you need any more."

being a field nurse for the marleyan army wasn't the easiest job in the world, mostly consisting of lots of running around in the trenches with your heavy kit and avoiding as much gunfire and blood splatter as you possibly could while still helping the wounded. you had volunteered to work soon after the conflict with the mid-east allied forces had begun, seeing as it was either that or see your father be drafted out into the eldian unit to become cannon fodder like so many of the soldiers you'd seen barely able to crawl their way back over the sandbags just to bleed out and die before you could even begin to assess their injuries. you stopped keeping count of how many people you couldn't save after your first few days of active combat, becoming more focused on not going insane from how little you slept due to the rumbling of the ground from enemy artillery that shook the walls of the underground quarters and reading the letters your family sent from back home to maintain a shred of morale for the future.

though, the job did have some perks. it was always honorable for eldian families to have someone enlisted, and it also meant you could support your parents with your minuscule paycheck from the government. and, of course, meeting reiner braun was the biggest plus of them all, though you probably wouldn't admit it if anybody asked. you were a hard worker, and evidently had enough natural skill to quickly be promoted to the position that you were at now, assigned as one of the few nurses who monitored the wellness of the warriors and their prospective candidates.

"my regeneration has been slowing down lately, i should have more of my hand back by now." reiner murmured, more to himself than you.

"of course it has, you haven't been eating as well as you should be. i don't know much about titan biology, but i do know that a soldier like you, a warrior no less, shouldn't live off of sandwiches and beer, you've been losing too much weight."

he chuckled, a quick smile flitting across his face before he returned to his previous sulk. "you sound like my mother, chiding me about how i need to take care of myself. isn't there other patients that need your attention?"

"you wish. me and another nurse have already taken care of this entire hall, and you, mr. celebrity, get a room all to yourself." you grabbed a pen and his chart, scribbling down a few notes about his current status while you spoke, "plus, i'm supposed to be checking up on you every hour until you're all put back together, magath's orders."

he paused, thinking to himself before speaking. "so does that mean galliard is ok?" you nodded.

"and pieck?" you nodded again.

"and zeke?" you sighed, but reaffirmed once more.

"you've been checking up on me all night by the looks of it. aren't you tired?"

"gosh reiner, would it kill you to focus on yourself for a minute?" you rolled your eyes at his confusion, pulling up the chair at the desk to his bedside and seating yourself down, "this is my job, i'm used to doing my job. in fact, this is one of the easiest nights i've had in weeks. i don't know about you, but it shocks me that the guy they blew to pieces yesterday afternoon is asking me if i'm the one that needs to get some rest."

his brow furrowed, mouth drawing into a small frown. "sorry. i know that the war has been hard for all of us. i just don't want to make it any harder for you than it's already been."

you couldn't help but smile at his genuine concern, planting your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin in your hands. "you don't have to worry about bothering me, reiner." you replied softly, playfully adding, "you know you're my favorite patient anyways" just to see his cheeks flush red.

"is that so?" he murmured in reply, now smiling with you as he met your gaze.

"maybe." you teased, leaving him hanging for a few moments before you continued, "galliard's always awkward when i'm in the room, jaeger never has much, if anything, to say, and pieck, she's nice to be around, but she always looks so tired i feel a bit bad when i chat for too long with her. so, if it's anyone i'm stuck on the night shift with, i'm glad it's you."

you laughed softly at his expression, feeling a bit sheepish under his gaze. he'd changed quite a bit over the two years you'd known him, the shadows under his eyes deepening with a clear exhaustion, cheekbones becoming more pronounced and face growing gaunter as the stress of the war withered away at his physical and mental wellbeing. before you personally met, you'd always seen reiner as the physical embodiment of marley's armor, with his sturdy, unyielding frame, towering over nearly everyone he met from his stature, and the iron will that never seemed to falter no matter how many times he returned broken to the barrack's infirmary.

but now, you could see how everything had been taking a toll on him, how he was growing thinner and weaker each time he returned from a successful military assignment. you had come to learn that despite his regenerative properties, he felt every bit of pain that came with the injuries he sustained, experiencing the absolute agony of having his limbs shredded and bones shattered by cannon fire in his titan form and still having to push forward on the battlefield. you had an immense respect for him and his unyielding nature, but you always worried. even though you knew he would always manage to get himself back together again, you always worried for him. you remembered how you felt as you peeked over the sandbags, watching with a mixture of awe and dread as reiner threw himself in front of jaeger at the last moment to shield him from the unexpected volley of naval artillery, the way your heart thundered so loudly in your ears at the sight of his titan crumpling.

the relief you felt upon being ordered to his hospital room and finding him still alive was indescribable, and the relief you felt now being able to talk to him, to stare into his tired eyes and take in his handsome features you'd become so familiar with, flushed softly from your playfully exchanged words— you didn't want to see him go again.

"l-let me go get you a blanket," you said, snapping yourself out of your unnecessary thoughts, "i packed it away since i didn't want the steam to overheat you, but now that its just your hand and ankle i think it'll be ok to let you have it back now."

you quickly got up from your seat and slipped past the privacy curtain, opening up the supply cupboard with sheets and extra clipboards and things of the sort to pull out the blanket you'd originally taken off of him and put away.

you had to control yourself, to stop letting yourself be distracted by these thoughts and concerns about him. you knew as well as anyone else in marley that he didn't have long left to live. you hated that everyone referred to it as his 'term', as if after two years passed he could return home to live a peaceful life away from the war and bloodshed, to enjoy the luxuries of a normal existence that had been snatched away from him from the very start of his life. he only had two years left before he had to be eaten by one of those children, children that had similarly had their innocence and adolescence stolen from them by the marleyan government. you had told yourself over and over to not let yourself get so close to him, to not trick yourself into believing that maybe something could work between the two of you after marley's greed for natural resources had been sated and all the nations were finally at peace.

but you knew better than anyone that these feelings had been growing out of control, and each day you spent tending to him, watching him out on the battlefield, finding more and more about who he truly was besides a soldier only fed the fire you'd been fighting between fueling and snuffing out for months now. taking in a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face, not wanting to concern him with an upset expression and risk dumping all your pathetic emotions out under his scrutiny.

"here we are." you hummed, flapping out the blanket a few times before you stretched it over his lap.

for a moment your face was close to his, close enough to see the small brown spots freckling his golden irises and realize just how intently he was gazing at you. you quickly retreated back to your seat at his bedside, still feeling his stare lingering on you, stopping yourself from asking him what was interesting enough to make him look at you for so long.

for another moment, there was silence, and you debated on making up some excuse to leave the room, but you knew you would have to come back in an hour, and he most likely wouldn't be asleep by then, but he spoke before you could think up any other escape plans.

"you know, i was happy to wake up and see you." you felt your heart skip, blinking at him, trying to make sure you weren't hearing things.

"really?" you mustered, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the sight of his smile.

"yes, really." he affirmed, the brightness on his face dampening a bit as he continued, "most of the time when i sleep, i get a lot of... memories, from my time in paradis, and they're not the most pleasant things to see while i'm asleep. and i was having another one of those dreams just now before i woke up, so it was nice to not be alone, you know? it's always reassuring to see you."

you felt a light flutter in your chest, nodding in response, torn between feeling sympathy for his nightmares or happiness from honest words. no, you had to stop being selfish. you had to stop letting yourself play along in this fantastical idea of a happy future.

"y-yeah, i understand," you replied, fixing your gaze down in your lap as you tried to avoid his intention, "i could put in a request for sleeping aids, if restlessness is becoming an issue."

"you know that's not what i'm trying to say." his hand reached out to rest over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, imploring you to stop ignoring the obvious.

"reiner." you said firmly, lips pressing into a firm line, "we can't. i can't."

you could feeling that light, airy joy twisting down into something irksome, settling like lead deep in your stomach as he replied. "what's stopping you?"

"everything!" you snapped, stopping yourself to take a deep breath and regain control of your volume before you began again, "everything.. this war, this never-ending conflict, and.. y-your term, your life-"

"you think i don't know that?" he said softly, too softly, somber gaze flitting between the hand in his grasp and your face. he seemed so small just now, seated up against wall behind the hospital bed that was too little for him, barely covered by the thin, old blanket that was fraying at the seams, not at all like the stoic, unwavering warrior he made himself out to be in the public eye. "don't you think i'm tired of pretending? tired of having people toss the topic of my death back and forth like they're discussing vacation plans? i love marley, and i love what i can do for the people who look up to me, for the people who rely on me to be the hero. you never ask me about paradis, you never ask me about how i feel about all of this, you never expect me to be the hero, and you're still always here to listen, always here when i need you to be. but i just want to feel like i don't have to worry about all that, even if it's just for one night... i know it sounds counterintuitive, but i want to pretend like things will be alright.. for you, for me, for everyone. can't we just have this one night?"

your hand trembled, fingers lacing easily with his like you'd risked doing a few times before, tears pricking your eyes, feeling like there was something cinching around your heart and lungs and squeezing tight. the heat of his hand in yours was pleasant, calloused palm fitting perfectly against the contour of your own, thumb stroking softly over the side of your own hand.

you swallowed your apprehension, steadying your breath and blinking away the mistiness threatening to spill down onto your face as you moved from the chair to take a seat on the side of his bed. "ok. one night."

the relief that bloomed across his expression warmed your heart, the stress that had been creasing his face softening back into the relaxed, sleepy looking smile that you always poked fun at when you brought him his breakfast in the morning.

"you have to be up at seven, so lay down right, i don't want you to complain to me about your back hurting tomorrow." he complied, shifting back down in the bed to rest his head back on the pillow, allowing you to let go of his hand momentarily to tuck the blanket around him. "do you want me to go get you something to help you sleep?"

"no." he murmured, gazing up at you, "just stay here with me, please. i'll sleep just fine as long as you're here."

there was something so childlike about his words, not in the way of immaturity or naivety, but something that just made you want to take care of him, to protect him from the corruption of the world outside of the obsolete confinements of his hospital room.

"i will." you said, letting your other hand find the side of his face, "i promise."

and so you stayed, you stayed as long as he needed you to, alternating between stroking his cheek and slowly running your fingers through his hair. there were no words exchanged, but the silence was comforting, the quietest night you'd both had in weeks, only occupied by the intermittent footsteps of the other nurses making their rounds around the hall and the soft evening breeze blowing through the half-open window above the desk. you didn't care for how long you had to sit there, replying back to the small movements of his hands with your own reassuring squeeze as he slowly but surely fell back asleep. but even after his breathing had steadied out, and his grasp on your hand had loosened, you still stayed seated at his bedside, just gazing down at his sleeping face as your thought to yourself.

the war against the mid-east allied forces had come to a rocky close, most likely guaranteeing marley at least a few months of tension-filled peace before another nation made their strike on their borders once again. but you knew that marley wouldn't wait for that, you knew that they wouldn't stop until they had the world in their hands, paradis included. you'd heard the private murmurs of jaeger before you entered his room, seen the open pages of his journal when he fell asleep at his desk, you knew what he had been planning. and you knew that reiner would have to go running back to the island once again, and even if jaeger's grand scheme didn't drag him there by his collar, he would probably go searching out his own resolution him.

you checked your watch. 2:10. it was your turn to check the patients in critical condition down the hall. you sighed quietly, pulling your hand away from his and leaning down to gently press a kiss on his forehead, something you risked doing a few times before when you had these especially long conversations that made your heart ache for him.

but at least, you thought to yourself as you flicked off the lights, reluctantly leaving the room and shutting the door behind you as quietly as you possibly could, at least you could give him just one night of repose.