#if im scared and uncertain i just lay it all out for people like HI I HAVENT BEEN DRIVING LONG PLEASE BE NICE TO ME 😭

[onawhimsicot]

uWUEEEE CAR TROUBLESSSSSSS i was hoping id forever be lucky and never have my car break down on the side of the road, ive had to make so many phone calls, my social anxiety is so bad for this!! this is what i get for trying to be a good worker bc i woke up today like i wanna call in siiiick, i dont wanna goooo, but i MADE MYSELF GET UP ANYWAY LIKE A RESPONSIBLE LAD and now i have to call in anyway and had to experience the horrors (talking to like 4 strangers and making phone calls in an unfamiliar situation) i hate it heeeeere

[recommend-and-reveiw]

@sotwk I have no idea where to start on this one, it is fanfiction of the highest order. It's shattered me, and I... I'm hurt. Some of my live reaction: (Spoilers under the cut)

At the same time, something about the ethereal presence of Queen Maereth unnerved Thorin's father. At the council gatherings, King Thrain avoided any direct communication with her, muttering to the side that military dealings should only be between one king and another, as was “proper”, although he never dared suggest dismissing Thranduil’s wife from the meetings. And true to his principles, he left all interactions with the Elven host, their supposed allies, to his lieutenants.

This made me so happy, my queen is so good and pure she scares the dwarf king 😂

He watched in helpless fascination as the Queen settled upon a low flat stone, mindless of the damp dirt on her fine green gown. Perhaps it was the absence of the silver crown she always wore to the councils, or the wildness of their forest surroundings, but there suddenly appeared a pleasant earthiness to the Queen that Thorin had never noticed before. Not an ounce of her Elven beauty was diminished, but it shifted somehow from being a piercing and untouchable flame, to a warm and inviting hearth.

I'll be honest, I may be developing a lil crush on this lady 🤗 your writing is so amazing.

“I do not presume; I see .” The Queen’s kind eyes flashed with firm reproach. “And when I look at you Thorin, I see Durin alive once more. The very same fire that once burned in your ancestors shines bright from your whole being."

Such a perfect discription of Thorin 😌

“He already lost one son to dragons, and he refused to risk another,” said the Queen, her voice now barely above a whisper. “That is the thought that ruled my King’s decision to turn his army back.”

NO- WHAAAA- NOOOOOO who was it? *sobbing* no. I cant. Im gone. Sue you.

"By that favor shall my blessing accompany your dear brother into battle," Queen Maereth said softly. "I shall pray it always leads him to a safe return."

This feels distinctly like foreshadowing and I do not like it.

Thorin shook his head. “There is no future for me in Dunland," he said flatly. “Only in Erebor. As my father’s heir, our people look to me to secure their own futures. I can seek no happiness of my own until I help reclaim our home."

*coughs in Bagginshield*

The Elvenqueen was dead. He might never have believed it possible, but he was one of the few witnesses to lay eyes on her broken body being carried out of the pits of Gundabad, a most wretched sight that would surely haunt him to his last day.  

I just threw my phone accros the floor of a building. No. I will remain in denial.

It was not until much later that the Dwarves discovered Thranduil had ridden out all by himself, immediately, without delaying even a moment to rally his guard, or to strategize, or to brief his confused and panicked soldiers. Without warning he simply vanished, leaving his officers uncertain of what they were to do next in such an unprecedented crisis.

*hysterical sobbing* why would you do this to me Naneth, why?

Thrain stared at his son incredulously. “You are a Prince of Erebor, not some Queen's maid!”

And heres where I learn to shift and slap this mf so hard diamonds would be jealous.

The marching Elves paid no heed to the dwarf-prince that came up to walk alongside their lines. Thorin noticed that despite the bitterness of the winter chill, they had all removed their cloaks, leaving their fine golden armor looking oddly incomplete. Instead, long strips of jagged fabric ripped apart by bare hands were tied around the tips of their spears and bows. Thousands and thousands of crimson ribbons fluttered high in the wind, and made the slow-moving column of soldiers appear from afar like a river of running blood.

This description... I'm hurt, but in a good and bad way.

It was a sight both shocking and chilling to behold up close, the tears that streamed down the cut and bruised cheeks of Thranduil's cold, inflexible face. He inclined his head in a small, vague nod.

Owowowoowoowowowowowow

He staggered towards the nearest torch-bearer as quickly as he could. “Frerin. Have you seen Prince Frerin anywhere?!” The blood-stained, swollen-faced soldier merely blinked at him with confused, unrecognizing eyes. Thorin moved on to ask the next dwarf, and then another one, and so on with the same results. Finally he ripped the torch off one of the roaming rescuers’ hands and started searching the field of corpses himself, screaming his brother’s name until his voice ran hoarse.

Stop. Please. Stop.

“Frerin,” Dwalin choked out, cementing Thorin’s fears. “Hurry--you must come.”

No.

Instead Thorin laid his shield to rest with Frerin, and had it molded into the stone that covered the top of his tomb. Your death will not be in vain, brother, was Thorin’s last promise before he bid farewell to the hilltop grave. I will not forget the vengeance you are owed, and I will never forgive the betrayers of your trust.

Curse you Perry the Platypus.

The Broken Shield (Thorin & Frerin brotherhood fic)

Written for the TSF 2023 Event by @thorinsspringforge

Event Partner Artist: @cycas

Story also features Thranduil Oropherion and the Elvenqueen Maereth (SotWK OC)

Summary: Thorin and Frerin, the young Princes of Erebor, rise above the grudges and prejudices of their forefathers to forge an alliance with the Elves of Mirkwood during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. But the tenuous bonds of friendship are shattered when tragic losses suffered by both sides lead to grievances, misunderstandings, and an even greater divide between the two races.

Word count: 9.5 k

Content: Brotherly bonds, war, angst, family drama, Dwarf-Elf relations, Line of Durin history, Mirkwood and Thranduil history, Thranduil's family, pre-BotFA, pre-Oakenshield

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Major character deaths

To Read on AOC: Link

Artist credit: @cycas

The Broken Shield

Third Age 2791, Dunland

With a furious scrape of chair legs against the floor, he was out the tavern's door faster than Thorin could have anticipated. 

"Where are you going?!" Thorin scrambled after him, nearly colliding with a hapless barmaid and her fully laden tray in his haste. "Frerin, stop! Wait!!" 

But his brother did not listen; he did not even slow his angry pace. This had become a disturbing pattern with Frerin of late. The steady, reliable young dwarf who used to never question anything his elders told him, was mutating into a stubborn goat who seemed to challenge half the orders he was given. Whether the change was due to Frerin's recent achievement of reaching the age of maturity, or because of the lady that had inflamed his passions to reckless heights, Thorin could only guess. He only wished his little brother could have picked a better time to lose his heart and head to a dwarrowdam. 

But he probably should have kept this opinion behind sealed lips. 

"I said stop!" Thorin finally came close enough to seize the retreating dwarf's shoulder. "If you would only listen--!"

“And what would listening get me?!” Frerin flung out his arm to wrench Thorin’s grip off him. “More reasons why I shouldn’t pursue my own happiness? If I wanted those, I would have gone to Father or even Dis instead of confiding in you.”

His words reeked of a hurt that lashed at Thorin. In happier times he might have beamed with pride to hear himself being compared to King Thrain. Now he flinched at it, knowing it was intended as an insult, especially coming from Frerin. 

“My counsel on the matter is for your own good." Mahal! The words stumbled out of his lips before he could stop himself from proving his brother right. That was exactly the condescending line their father would say. 

"Why do you all insist on knowing what is best for me?!" Frerin exclaimed. “I love Ezri, and she has always loved me, and I am blessed to be chosen as her One. Do not dare imply that you can offer a greater life than the one I can share with her."

"Frerin, you are a Prince of Erebor," Thorin stated calmly, even though he actually wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake sense into him. "When we reclaim our home from the Dragon, it shall rise back to its place as the greatest kingdom on Middle-earth. Your proper place is home, where it has always been, Under the Mountain. Not…here!" 

He threw his arms out at their village surroundings, unconsciously revealing his disdain with a sneer. "You have a higher purpose beyond staying in Dunland, eking out a living as a common blacksmith, peddling your craft to Men for a pittance."

"You know I care not about my crown or title," Frerin declared. "I have said it many times, emphatically, for years now. But you all turn a deaf ear because you refuse to accept my choice."

Thorin guffawed and clutched at his hair with both hands, as though it would help him hold on to his dwindling patience. "You are mad if you genuinely believe Father would ever accept you renouncing your birthright."

"Which is why I came to you!" Frerin shot back. "I thought if anyone still might understand and care about my wishes, it would be my brother. Or is it asking too much for you to take my side on the matter?"

“Frerin,” Thorin sighed. “You have not thought hard enough about this. This cannot truly be what you want in life.”

“Not all of us seek heroic glory in battle, or legendary fame from great deeds, or gold and jewels one could do nothing with but pile and hoard,” Frerin said. “Some of us desire nothing better than a cozy home to return to at the end of an honest day’s work, where a hearty dinner and a wife’s kisses await, and the songs and laughter of little ones.” 

Thorin finally softened as he regarded the earnest conviction on his brother’s face. “So is that it?”  He shook his head. “You would stay behind and leave us to deal with Azog and his armies, and all the challenges that still lie in the long road ahead?” 

“That is not what I said.” Frerin moved close to grip Thorin’s forearms. “It was my grandfather too whom they murdered, and make no mistake, the same fire burns in my belly to seek vengeance. I will go to war against Azog with you, and only after we have won shall I return to make a bride out of my betrothed.”

His grave face cracked into a smile. “I know you need me to watch your back, your Highness . I will not make you beg for my axe.” 

Thorin chuckled weakly and clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “Oh, however can I repay such magnanimity?” 

“By returning the favor. By helping me to return home safely so I can make good on my promise to Ezri.”

By my life, I shall. Thorin vowed silently.   But before he could open his mouth to tell his brother so, they were interrupted by a shout from further down the dimly lit street. 

“Thorin! Frerin!” When the figure in the shadows came up to meet them, Thorin recognized their kinsman, Balin, slightly out of breath. “Finally--I have been searching everywhere! You must come to your father’s house immediately. The King has called for a council and everyone awaits you.”

Thorin’s eyebrows rose. “A council at this hour? What could be so urgent?”

“An elf has turned up requesting an audience with Thrain.” Balin’s voice dropped to a tense whisper as he looked meaningfully at Thorin. 

“A rider from Mirkwood, bearing a message from the Elvenking Thranduil.”

Third Age 2793, The Greylin River

Thorin could not recall ever seeing a full moon so large and bright, a great lantern high above the valley, illuminating the military encampment sprawled out by the riverbank. Dwarves preferred to fight their battles underground, in tunnels and caverns where their skills gave them certain advantages, so something about being out in the open, in clear view of their enemies, made Thorin uneasy. But King Thranduil had sent out keen-eyed scouts who reported no signs of hostile elements nearby, and the roving Elven patrols kept constant watch of the perimeters while the remainder of the army took their rest. 

At daybreak, a few short hours away, the entire combined force of nearly six thousand strong will commence their march towards Gundabad, and their people’s great war against the Orcs shall begin. 

Thorin massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, his right arm resting heavily against the lyre propped upon his thigh. He had tossed and turned uncomfortably in his cot whilst Frerin snored away on the other side of their shared tent, before he finally gave up on sleep. He took his golden instrument and hiked a distance away from camp, seeking out a secluded spot at the eaves of the forest where he could play in peaceful solitude. Music, especially melodies played by his own hands, was usually effective at soothing his nerves, but even an hour later the anxiety that had taken root in his chest ever since they set out from Dunland still refused to be tamed. 

Thorin laid his fingers against the lyre strings to try once more, searching his memory for the tune of a childhood lullaby. However, the very faint rustle of shifting undergrowth caused him to leap up to his feet instead. The lyre fell to the ground with a thud, and his hand closed around the hilt of the knife sheathed at his belt. 

The tall, lithesome figure of a lady stood just a few feet away from him, close enough that he had to tilt his head back just to gaze fully upon her face. She appeared unperturbed by the dwarf's aggressive stance, although the four Mirkwood soldiers that stood just behind her noticeably tightened their grips on their spears. 

"Prince Thorin." The lady dipped into a graceful curtsy before him, sinking so low that the voluminous skirt of her dress pooled against the patchy grass. "Good evening."

"Queen Maereth," Thorin answered, bowing from the waist in return. 

The Queen of Mirkwood affixed her soft gaze and warm smile upon him, and the tight knot in Thorin's chest seemed to finally loosen. Although they were only recently acquainted, Thorin had been in the presence of the Elvenking Thranduil's wife multiple times already over the past few months, for she sat at her husband's side in every single meeting held between the Dwarven and Elven leaders. The Queen's beauty, a pure and natural radiance that surpassed the rarest and finest gemstones ever unearthed in Erebor's mines, did not escape the dwarven host's attention, and enchanted most of those who laid eyes upon her. 

At the same time, something about the ethereal presence of Queen Maereth unnerved Thorin's father. At the council gatherings, King Thrain avoided any direct communication with her, muttering to the side that military dealings should only be between one king and another, as was “proper”, although he never dared suggest dismissing Thranduil’s wife from the meetings. And true to his principles, he left all interactions with the Elven host, their supposed allies, to his lieutenants.

Frerin surprised them all with how instantly he developed a camaraderie with the Mirkwood elves. It was only a week ago that the Elven army had arrived to join the Dwarves and set up camp alongside theirs by the Greylin River. By nightfall of the first day, Thorin found his brother at the Elven camp, the lone dwarf sitting around the fire with a group of Mirkwood soldiers, deep in his cups and slurring in speech. As an aghast Thorin dragged him away, Frerin chortled about how he shared a name with his new elf-friend, Feren. Since then, the younger prince continued to  spend more time with the Elven soldiers than with his own people, and Thorin decided there was no point in preventing the phenomenon, if even the kings of their separate camps seemed unbothered by it. 

Unlike his father and brother and their quick judgements, Thorin remained unsure of his feelings towards their new allies. Cautionary tales passed down by Dwarven elders warned heavily against trusting Elves, and the Sack of Erebor, an event that he himself witnessed, gave damning evidence of Mirkwood’s questionable loyalty. And yet there they were, about to launch perhaps the greatest war effort in the history of their race, and they would be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with a previously sworn enemy.

Alas, Thorin’s father had not allowed him to attend that first meeting with Thranduil, so the prince still did not know what had led to the sudden alliance, and Thrain stubbornly refused to enlighten even his own sons.  

 "May I join you?"

Queen Maereth’s words pulled Thorin’s mind back to the present, and as his attention shifted back to her, and he beheld her lovely and tender smile, the answer dawned on him, clear as the sun emerging from the cover of dark clouds. 

Her. It was because of her. Of course.  

Stunned by his own epiphany, Thorin could only utter a vague grunt, but he nodded in assent, which seemed good enough for the Lady. 

She addressed her guards with a few words and, much to Thorin’s surprise, all four promptly bowed, turned about-face, and disappeared into the shadows of the surrounding trees. 

He watched in helpless fascination as the Queen settled upon a low flat stone, mindless of the damp dirt on her fine green gown. Perhaps it was the absence of the silver crown she always wore to the councils, or the wildness of their forest surroundings, but there suddenly appeared a pleasant earthiness to the Queen that Thorin had never noticed before. Not an ounce of her Elven beauty was diminished, but it shifted somehow from being a piercing and untouchable flame, to a warm and inviting hearth.

Thorin stepped slowly towards her, their faces now at level with each other. "You did not have to send your guard away on my account."

"I prefer we have our privacy, and they are not needed here,” the Queen responded. “I told them I will be safe in the company of a great warrior."

A bold assumption to make , Thorin thought, although internally her words made him glow with pride. He was a near stranger to her and had done nothing to merit such confidence. But as he gazed upon the fair vision she made sitting there, like a delicate flower freshly bloomed from the earth, Thorin felt a swell of protective instincts from his gut. A fierce conviction that he would spill his own blood before letting any harm come upon someone so pure and trusting. 

A long, unbroken silence hung between them as the Elvenqueen stared at Thorin intently, unabashedly. Thorin did not meet her eyes, nor did he shrink away from the attention. He bent over to pick his lyre off the ground and rest it against the base of a tree, but he remained standing, now closer to the Queen than any of his kin had ever come before. 

“Forgive me,” Queen Maereth said at last. “I am sure you are wondering why I have sought you out alone like this.”

“Perhaps you have words for me that you wish not for my father to hear?”

“You are as wise as I thought, Prince Thorin.” She smiled and folded her hands across her lap. “But I also thought mayhaps you too have things to say to me away from the ears of others. King Thrain has made clear that he has no interest in anything I have to say, but I sensed it is not the same with you.”

Thorin laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded uneasy. “You presume a great deal about me, my lady.”

“I do not presume; I see .” The Queen’s kind eyes flashed with firm reproach. “And when I look at you Thorin, I see Durin alive once more. The very same fire that once burned in your ancestors shines bright from your whole being."

Her unexpected declaration made Thorin freeze. Part of him wanted to wallow in such profound praises of his character, but a voice in his head decried her honeyed words as suspicious. After all, elves were notorious for employing riddles and fancy speeches for their machinations. Still, curiosity rose above all, and when Thorin regained his voice, he said, "You speak as though you knew him.”

"I knew them ,” said the Queen. “I had the honor of calling several of the great Dwarf Kings my dear friends." A fond reverie swept across her face. "But it was Durin the Third whom I loved best, he who ruled Khazad-dûm at the height of its glory."

"You saw Khazad-dûm…" Thorin whispered, finding himself suddenly breathless. His mind spun at the thought of it, of standing in the presence of one who had walked the halls of his ancestors’ now lost and ruined kingdom. An elf . He had heard the tales of Elves from the ancient ages who had been proclaimed "dwarf-friends", who built bridges between the two races, although those alliances never endured past their lifetimes. Therefore Dwarf historians wrote them off as aberrations, and not accomplishments to seek out or aspire for.

"I lived in Khazad-dûm as Durin's guest for several years," said Queen Maereth. Her eyes closed as she paused for a moment, clasping her hands together over her breast, and she murmured something in her Elvish tongue that Thorin could not hope to guess. "I shall always be grateful for the kindness Durin showed me, and to this day, many centuries passed, I have yet to find a more loyal or generous friend."  

It could not be. It was too much. Thorin folded his arms across his chest and finally turned away, forgoing his princely manners. Everything she was telling him conflicted with everything he believed about the Elvenking and his family. Faithless, manipulative frauds who cared only for themselves. The Queen's accounts had to be lies…or else the stories told by Thorin's father and grandfather were. 

"The White Gems, Thorin."

Thorin whirled around suddenly. "What of them?" He spoke more sharply than intended, but she could not have broached a more sensitive topic. The cause of Thranduil's ire against Erebor, the reason why he allowed the Dragon to besiege the Mountain without lifting a finger to lend aid. Those accursed White Gems that now lay buried in Smaug's hoard along with the rest of Erebor's treasures. 

"What reason did your grandfather give for refusing to return them to us?"

Thorin's brow furrowed. He had been present at that fateful exchange, and had witnessed the cold, silent fury of the Elvenking when King Thror refused to relinquish the necklace he had commissioned for his wife. 

"He said the gems belonged to Durin's House by birthights," Thorin said slowly. "Because they came out of the mines of Khazad-dûm…" He stared at the Queen, eyes suddenly wide as though he had been struck. 

Queen Maereth smiled sadly. "I cannot blame your grandfather for coveting them. It must have pained him to see treasures from his ancestral home in the hands of Elves. But we did not steal the White Gems, or purchase them from raiders. They were a gift from Durin the Fourth himself, who wished to honor us on our wedding day on behalf of his late father."

"Did he know of this?" Thorin demanded, even as he dreaded the obvious answer. "Was my grandfather aware of this history all along?"

Now the Elvenqueen was the one to turn her face away, the voluminous waves of her dark hair momentarily blocking the sorrow that graced her features. "Truth inevitably grows distorted the longer stories are passed on, and prejudices creep into interpretations." She shook her head. "Thror made decisions on what to believe, and those are the versions he presented to your father and to you as truth."

"So this is why Thranduil despises us,” Thorin said bitterly. “Why he withheld his army and merely stood by to let Smaug drive us out of our home."

The Queen’s hand suddenly came to rest upon Thorin’s arm, her touch warm and gentle as a mother’s caress. "My husband does not hate you or your people, dear Prince,” she told him. “His inaction that day is a mistake he has come to regret, even though he would never admit it. He is a proud king, and your grandfather inflicted one too many wounds upon that pride. But my lord did not withdraw from the field that day out of revenge or spite."

“I suppose you have another grand tale to explain his motivations, then.” Thorin could not help the rush of hot anger that flared within him at the memory, and he stepped back, away from the Queen’s reach. “If you can offer a good explanation as to how your husband managed to do nothing but watch the Dragon raze not just Erebor, but the entire town of Dale…" He clenched his fists against the assault of the horrifying images the repressed memory roused in his mind. “...how he could turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to thousands being incinerated right in front of him… I would like to hear it.” 

“Had I been at Thranduil’s side that day instead of across the Mountains visiting my kin, things might have been different.” The grief that descended upon the Elvenqueen’s fair face almost made Thorin regret his harsh speech. “We could not take back what had already been done, but in the aftermath, we aided survivors in every way we could.”

“If aid had come sooner, there would have been more survivors instead of dead!” Thorin growled. “If aid had come sooner, we would have stood a chance at defending and keeping our home.” 

“Erebor would have been taken, even if our army had marched out to fight. That is for certain," the Queen countered. “And we would have lost so many more lives. Perhaps even the lives of the last two sons that remain to us.” 

Another silence dropped between them as Thorin fumbled with her words. It was the first he had ever heard of the Elvenking having a child or heir, and he had not considered that there might be several of them. What sons? No Elven princes had arrived with the army and no mention was ever made of them at the councils.

“He already lost one son to dragons, and he refused to risk another,” said the Queen, her voice now barely above a whisper. “That is the thought that ruled my King’s decision to turn his army back.”

“I do not understand.” Thorin muttered, pangs of shame now surfacing above his cooling rage. “You have lost a son to dragons? Has your family encountered Smaug before?”

The Queen raised her eyes from the ground, and in holding her gaze, Thorin saw for the first time the truth of her age, hidden beneath her unfaded youth. The wisdom in her eyes, borne from countless years of immortal existence, made him realize the indescribable burdens she must carry upon her shoulders. 

He never thought he would ever feel pity for an elf until that moment. 

“I have shared enough for one evening,” she said with a faint smile. “It was not my intention to shake your faith in the things you have been taught. I only wish for you to understand better my King’s mind, and to know that our family has always valued our friendship with Aulë’s Children. My people are marching into battle side-by-side with yours tomorrow. I would have you trust that the Elves of Greenwood will protect you as our own.”

“But would they, oh Queen?” Thorin raised his eyebrows. “It remains unclear to me why Mirkwood should now do such a thing for us, when the crime committed by Azog was against our house alone.” He wondered if she suspected his father’s private theory, that Thranduil’s sole motive was to force Durin’s House indebtedness, and the Elves' so-called friendship was merely an expensive service that would have to be paid for later. King Thrain had accepted the Elves into their ranks as mercenaries, not friends. 

“That is where you are wholly mistaken, Thorin.” This time the Queen frowned, and the soft lines of her face grew taut. “My family has endured unspeakable losses at the hands of the same Enemy that murdered Thror. This war belongs to us all, and so we shall take our stand together to put an end to these monsters that have taken far too much from us.” 

“And what of the sons you spoke of? Might not Thranduil abandon the cause again out of fear of losing them?”

If the Queen took offense at his brazen sarcasm, she did not show it, which only deepened Thorin’s guilt. “Our sons stayed behind in Mirkwood, charged with ruling in their father’s absence.” She tilted her head to the side, pinning the dwarf with a searching gaze. “You are still too young to have children of your own, so it may be difficult to understand the fierce instinct to protect the ones you brought into this world.”

“I have no wife or children,” Thorin responded. “But I still understand the willingness to give my life if necessary to protect someone I love. I have a younger brother, Frerin, whom you have already met, but you may not remember…”

“Oh, I remember Prince Frerin indeed.” Queen Maereth’s sudden laughter was the sweetest, most musical sound that dissolved whatever bitterness lingered in Thorin’s heart. “It has certainly not escaped our attention how much your brother has enjoyed visiting our camp. My King is convinced he is mad, but it amuses him nonetheless, and I for one have not been delighted by a dwarf's charming manners in far too long."

"Just this morning he approached me, very boldly but ever so courteously, and asked me for a favor to carry with him throughout this war." The Queen gestured at her waist, where the intricately embroidered bodice of her green dress joined with the flowing skirt. "I gave him the sash off my gown and told him I would be honored for him to bear it."

Thorin felt his jaw drop, utterly flabbergasted, but when no words could pass his lips, a bark of laughter rang out. "That is the sort of thing Frerin would do," he admitted. "Particularly if he had been goaded by your soldiers, which I suspect is what happened. It was kind of you to indulge him."

"By that favor shall my blessing accompany your dear brother into battle," Queen Maereth said softly. "I shall pray it always leads him to a safe return."

“He left behind the woman he loves to come here," Thorin said abruptly. "His betrothed. I would see to it that he returns to her in Dunland to make good on his promise to marry her and have the future he desires."

"Then may it happen as you say." The Queen nodded. “But what of you, Crown Prince? What awaits your return after this war?”

Thorin shook his head. “There is no future for me in Dunland," he said flatly. “Only in Erebor. As my father’s heir, our people look to me to secure their own futures. I can seek no happiness of my own until I help reclaim our home."

There was a pause as the Queen regarded him even more intently. "You will lead your people back to the Mountain.” She spoke as though stating a fact, as certain as one would be of the sun rising to usher in a new day. “It shall be achieved by you, in time. So long as you learn to heed the counsel of the wise, of those you might regard as outsiders. Resist the flaws of your fathers, and do not be so hasty to regard the world with suspicion. The greatest victories are won with help coming from the most unexpected of places, so you must keep yourself open to receive it."

"Is that not what we are doing now, my lady?" Thorin swept his arm in the direction of the camp in the far distance. “Who could have foreseen that Dwarves and Elves would ever come together under one banner this way?”

“It is an auspicious start,�� the Queen agreed. “I feel hope is renewed strong with this alliance, and that we shall prevail so long as it remains unbroken.”

“It will not fail from our end,” Thorin declared stoutly. “As a dwarf-friend, you would know that we honor our word once it is given.”

"I do believe that, Thorin, Son of Durin." She reached out to offer him her hand. Thorin grasped it, lightly at first, but was surprised by the strength he felt from those slender fingers pressed into his palm. He moved his other hand in to completely encase hers, and they sealed the gesture with an exchange of smiles. 

“With all the power in me, I shall see to it that the Elves reciprocate your loyalty. Only hours from now, you shall see for yourself." Deep pride glowed on the Queen's face. "You will see the difference it makes to have the greatest warrior in Middle-earth fighting on your side."

Artist credit: @cycas

Third Age 2793, Mount Gundabad

Thorin pressed his clenched fists over his eyes and pulled in a slow, deep breath that shuddered through his lungs. After the emergency war council ended and all the Dwarven officers in assembly followed King Thrain back out of the tent, the prince sat alone in the dead silence, for a long time motionless as a carven statue upon his chair. His hollow stare bore straight into the canvas flap through which they had all exited, walking off to proceed with business as though absolutely nothing of significance had occurred. 

When he thought enough strength might have returned to his legs, Thorin staggered to his feet. But something in the act of just moving returned his mind to the realities of the present, to the memories of the last twenty-four hours, and the tenuous stranglehold he kept on his emotions shattered. 

And finally, Thorin wept. 

The Elvenqueen was dead. He might never have believed it possible, but he was one of the few witnesses to lay eyes on her broken body being carried out of the pits of Gundabad, a most wretched sight that would surely haunt him to his last day.  

Immediately upon returning to camp with his company, Thorin stood before the Dwarven council to deliver his account of the battle. His report was hopelessly garbled and raised many questions he could not answer, but those present managed to cobble it together with the fragments of news and hearsays picked up from the Elven ranks and form a coherent story. 

The news of Queen Maereth’s abduction had reached their camp in the cold darkness of a moonless winter night, and the chaos that had erupted from the Mirkwood host was unholy. The Dwarves were woken from their sleep by the noise of over a thousand Elves scrambling to form ranks as the word spread like literal fire setting their tents ablaze, and there arose a terrible cacophony of enraged shouts and anguished wails, spoken in a tongue they could not understand. 

It was not until much later that the Dwarves discovered Thranduil had ridden out all by himself, immediately, without delaying even a moment to rally his guard, or to strategize, or to brief his confused and panicked soldiers. Without warning he simply vanished, leaving his officers uncertain of what they were to do next in such an unprecedented crisis.

Yet somehow, orders came from the absent king. The Queen had been located. At morning's light the Elven army finally set off in great haste, and after many rejected attempts to communicate with the Mirkwood lieutenants Thorin managed to force an answer out of them as to where they were marching off to, so he could lead the Dwarves to join them in the rescue.

Back to the depths of Gundabad, the orc captors had taken her, barely more than a league away. The Dwarves and Elves had spent the last three months laying a relentless siege upon the ancient stronghold, waging battle after battle, and winning decisively each time. Their armies cut through Gundabad's defenses with overwhelming ease, slaughtering the orc legions until only dredges of their filth remained, withdrawing to the deepest caverns, clinging to their nests like stubborn roaches. The Mountain should have been one final purge away from being utterly won. 

Instead, their enemy had lashed out with their most devastating blow yet.

“There was nothing left for us to do,” Thorin told the commanders of the Seven Houses. "By the time our forces arrived, a thorough razing had already been accomplished. We chased down a few survivors attempting to escape, but the Elves had exterminated the rest." He paused and closed his eyes briefly, as a vivid memory flashed in his mind, and he corrected himself. "Or from what I could tell, Thranduil had carried out most of it."

"I heard he was half dead when they found him," one of the officers grunted. “And entirely mad.”

“That preening peacock has always been mad. Charging into Gundabad on his own without waiting for even a single soldier to cover him.”

"Foolish bastard." 

"He was injured," Thorin broke back into the exchange, grimacing as the nightmarish image of the blood-drenched Elvenking once again crossed his thoughts. "Far more seriously than he has ever been. But he walked out of Gundabad unaided, even carrying the Queen himself. I did not get a chance to speak with him, and have not seen him since."

"He has not shown himself at all since this whole disaster started," Thrain burst out, pounding a fist on the arm of his throne. "What kind of king sends a messenger to deliver notice of his retreat? Or perhaps I should just be thankful they didn’t simply fade into the night without a word of warning!”

"Their queen is dead , Father." Frerin's tone was sharp when at last he broke his silence. Only Thorin caught the slight tremor in his brother's voice and he gratefully realized he was not the only one with grief swelling in his chest. "It is only right that they go home and lay her to rest."

"Pulling out the entire army in the middle of a campaign?!" scoffed a Firebeard chieftain. "It stinks of typical Elf weakness."

Frerin stood abruptly from his chair. "There are rumblings from the Mirkwood camp about a betrayal," he said loudly. "Committed by our people. It is being said that it was one of our escorts sent with Queen Maereth that betrayed her to the enemy, and assisted in her abduction."

A chorus of indignant shouts immediately rose in the tent, but Thorin remained silent. Frerin's friendship with the Elves still gave him reliable sources of information, and this accusation did not surprise Thorin at all. The same suspicion had dawned on him when he pondered how the ambush on the Queen's convoy could have occurred. Meticulous plans had been made to take her by a safe route home over the Grey Mountains, through passes known only to Longbeards who had long dwelt in those lands.

The Longbeards King Thrain had offered up as guides were people Thorin had never met before. They were distant relatives who came forward to answer the call to arms, claiming descent from the Gloin who once ruled over the Grey Mountains. But Thorin knew little else of these so-called relations, and he doubted his father had the time to get any much better acquainted. 

“The orcs slew the entire escort to capture her! Dwarves and elves alike, indiscriminately!” bellowed another officer. “How dare they accuse us of treason, when lives of our kin were also sacrificed to shield their Queen!”

“I should have been the one to do it,” Frerin said bitterly. “I volunteered and you forbade it, but I should have insisted upon it. I should have gone to ensure Queen Maereth’s safe passage.”

Thrain stared at his son incredulously. “You are a Prince of Erebor, not some Queen's maid!” he exclaimed. “We were not remiss in our obligation. We gave her a strong and proper escort, but the mission was compromised. Our enemy outsmarted us. It was an unfortunate incident, but one we could not have predicted or prevented.” 

“Unfortunate?!” Anger blazed in Frerin’s bright blue eyes. “Is that what you would call it? Bad weather is unfortunate. A spilled barrel of ale is unfortunate! The Queen of Mirkwood was murdered, when she was supposed to be under our protection! How can you be so dismissive about such a failure, that is now a stain on our honor?!"

For once, silence dropped like a stone upon the assembly. Father and son glared at each other for a tense moment, until King Thrain growled, "Leave my sight, Frerin. Do not return until you have rid your head of nonsense and cleansed your mouth of insolence."

Thorin watched his brother storm out of the tent and almost wished he could join him, but he stayed behind to hear the continued grumblings of the Dwarven leaders. 

"We brought this upon ourselves, joining with elves, who have time and again proven fickle and faithless."

"We have gotten some use out of them, at least. Gundabad was quickly won, and at barely any cost to our ranks.”

“Hah! Let them be cowards and run back home! We shall advance without them and show them the true meaning of grit.”

“Aye! I never liked the thought of that woodland fairy sharing in our glory anyhow!”

"Thranduil has fought fiercely for our side from the onset of this campaign, and his valor has played no small role in our victories.” Thorin was barely aware that he was shouting, not to be heard above their jabbering, but to release the frustrations that would otherwise cause him to implode. “But this war, which was never truly his to fight, has cost him his wife, his companion for thousands of years, a bond none of us can possibly comprehend. Now you mock him in his grief, calling him a coward for his need to mourn?!”

Just as with Frerin, Thrain glowered at his elder son long and hard, and Thorin thought for certain he too would be ejected from the council. Instead, the King rose from his throne, gave the prince a tight, patronizing smile, and launched into a speech that robbed Thorin of the desire to say anything else.

"I understand you and your brother had been ensnared by the charms of the Elvenqueen. Lovely and fair she was indeed, and I will not deny that her presence gave strength to our hosts. But in the end she is still just a single soul lost, one casualty in this war. And I will not allow the blame for her killing to fall on our people!” The blue gemstone of his great ancestral ring flashed as Thrain waved his hand in stern proclamation. “Thranduil was the one who risked her life by bringing her here, keeping her so close to danger. Perhaps if these Elves treasured and safeguarded their women in the ways we do, this senseless tragedy would not have occurred."

As Thorin wept quietly in the tent at the conclusion of that sickening assembly, he knew that his tears were not merely of sorrow at the fate of the Elvenqueen. He did not think he had ever been angrier with this father in all his life, or more ashamed of his kinsmen, or more disappointed in himself for his inability to tell them all exactly this. 

Frerin found him slumped low in his chair when he returned to the tent. The younger prince raised his eyebrows at the pathetic sight but said nothing about Thorin’s watery eyes, flushed cheeks, and damp, disheveled beard. 

“Come Thorin,” he said urgently. “The elves have begun their march. They are leaving, right now. You must come!” 

“And do what?” Thorin asked dully. 

“Let us go speak to them, learn of their plans! Perhaps we can get some idea as to when they will be rejoining us.”

“They are not coming back, Frerin,” Thorin said tersely. "The alliance has been declared broken by both sides. Father and his generals have accepted the Elves' departure. I have certainly heard enough crowing of how we will now triumph in the rest of this war without having to share the glory.”

"Shall we heed the words of those puffed-up wind sacks?” Frerin scoffed. “We have taken very few casualties with the Elves fighting by our side! Is pride really worth more than all the lives we can save by asking Mirkwood to stay with us?!”

When Thorin still refused to budge from his chair, Frerin gave a frustrated growl and grabbed both his arms, yanking his brother to his feet. 

"We should speak directly with King Thranduil," he said, pulling Thorin towards the tent exit. "He has as much cause as we do now to want Azog’s head. Surely he craves revenge and will not find rest until the task is done."

“It is not that simple.” Thorin rubbed his temple, where a pounding headache seems to have formed. “Maereth is gone. Can you not see why our enemies targeted her? Much of the Elves’ goodwill towards us rested on her, on the love her husband and their people bore for her. We cannot replace her influence on them, the zeal she inspired in their hearts. Nothing can.”

“I think our relationship with the Elves has grown beyond that, now that we have spilled blood together. The least we can do is try,” Frerin insisted. “Or shall we stand quiet and let her death be for nothing? Because I think she would want us to bring our case to Thranduil, and make him see reason if need be--”

“Just stop, Frerin!” Thorin cried, finally snapping under the weight of grief and exhaustion. “Enough! There is nothing left to be done, and we have to accept that. It is over .” 

Frerin did stop talking, for a second, to give Thorin a scathing, disgusted scowl. “Never mind, then.” He released his grip on Thorin’s arm, giving him a hard push away. “Sulk in your corner. I will do it myself.” He disappeared behind the flap of the tent exit.

“Frerin, wait!” As tired as he was, Thorin rushed after him into the evening twilight. 

He did not have to venture far to find what Frerin had wanted him to come and see. The Mirkwood soldiers had departed from their now empty campsite and formed a long, wide column that snaked eastward, marching back towards the Greylin, and from there to their woodland home. Many dwarves had come out of their tents to watch the Elven army leaving in the distance, but none were curious enough to approach the giant procession. 

Thorin walked quickly to catch up, keeping an eye out for the vibrant blue color and fur collar of Frerin’s winter coat. 

The marching Elves paid no heed to the dwarf-prince that came up to walk alongside their lines. Thorin noticed that despite the bitterness of the winter chill, they had all removed their cloaks, leaving their fine golden armor looking oddly incomplete. Instead, long strips of jagged fabric ripped apart by bare hands were tied around the tips of their spears and bows. Thousands and thousands of crimson ribbons fluttered high in the wind, and made the slow-moving column of soldiers appear from afar like a river of running blood.

Looking ahead towards the front of the procession, Thorin finally spotted Frerin, easily noticed next to the line of towering Elves. As he surged forward to reach his brother, Thorin realized they had come alongside the most important section of the cavalcade.

On a large litter borne by the shoulders of a half-dozen Elves, the Queen’s body lay, covered almost entirely by a thick, richly embroidered coverlet, and draped over that was a shimmering silver cloak that Thorin recognized as the Elvenking’s own. Sheer white silk veiled her face, still beautiful and unscathed, but whose pale lifelessness was too saddening to look upon. 

Thorin came up to Frerin, who had finally stopped moving, and was just staring helplessly at the Elvenqueen’s body as it passed by. Thorin saw the fear and despair on his brother’s face and reached out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. 

The princes remained that way for a while, suddenly transported back to a time during their childhood in Erebor, when two little dwarves stood by the funeral bed of another deceased queen, scared and confused and unable to grasp what a motherless future held for them. 

“We should go,” Thorin finally said.

"No," Frerin said brusquely. Determination renewed, he continued walking up the line, his boots crunching against the packed snow. "He is right there ."

The Elvenking rode at the very front of the column, separated from his soldiers by a good distance. Astride his great bull elk, he towered above the marching elves, but even higher above the dwarf that boldly approached him.

Thranduil's war steed was a violent, ill-tempered creature. Thorin had watched it mow down orcs on the battlefield, and once saw it nearly bite the shoulder off a Ironfoot spearman just for coming too close. The beast had to be part monster, a lethal hazard that could only be controlled by its similarly dispositioned master.

Sure enough, when Frerin strode up within scope of the elk's sight, it immediately halted in its tracks. It did not buck or make any sudden movements out of respect for its rider, but its nostrils flared as it snorted angrily and dipped its head low to challenge the intruder with its massive antlers.

Behind Thranduil, the entire procession also came to an immediate halt, and a profound silence allowed the dwarf-prince’s voice to be heard loud and clear. 

"Lord Thranduil," Frerin called, stopping a safe distance before the elk beast, out of reach from being skewered or bitten.  Thorin watched, aghast, as his brother sank down on one knee in a manner of greeting. "Forgive my impertinence and allow me to deliver a message on behalf of my King and our people."

Thorin froze when he realized trying to interrupt his brother, or discredit him by denying the validity of his words, would only rouse the Elvenking's notorious temper. And so he held his breath and stood aside, watching as Frerin pulled out a golden silk sash from the folds of his coat, and raised it above his bowed head.

“We mourn your loss with you," Frerin declared. "Queen Maereth was the kindest and fairest soul many of us had ever seen in our lifetime. We beseech our Great Father, Mahal, to intercede for her during her sojourn in the Halls, and to honor her as the dwarf-friend she was." 

Then he rose and braved a few steps forward to offer the sash up to Thranduil, who still had not uttered a sound or moved in his saddle. 

"Peace be on your journey as you bring her home to rest," he said as he waited for the Elvenking to accept his offering. 

“We will await your return, when we shall rise together in arms once more to avenge her.”

At long last, Thranduil bent down to reach for the golden sash. He gripped it tightly in his fist, but still said nothing as the bitter silence droned on unbearably. 

Unwilling to continue letting his brother stand there alone, Thorin finally walked over to Frerin's side. His arrival seemed to jar the Elvenking from his trance and he turned his piercing gaze towards the elder prince.  

It was a sight both shocking and chilling to behold up close, the tears that streamed down the cut and bruised cheeks of Thranduil's cold, inflexible face. He inclined his head in a small, vague nod.

The elk lurched forward without warning, forcing the brothers to scramble hastily out of its path. As quickly as that, the Mirkwood army marched on, once again leaving the dwarves at the sidelines to witness their exodus. 

"They will be back," Frerin whispered, an unquenchable conviction burning in his eyes. "I saw it on his face."

Thorin did not know how much he shared in this optimism, but his heart swelled with admiration and pride in the bravery his little brother had demonstrated. He just never learned how to express it in words. 

"You should have kept the Queen's favor. It was her gift to you."

Frerin shrugged. "And I used it as I believe she would have wanted me to," he responded. "Whenever Thranduil looks at it, he will remember my words and the cause she gave up her life for. He will not let it be for nothing."

He touched his fist over his heart as the Elvenqueen's body was carried past them once more. "For now, we will hold the line until they return."

Third Age 2799, The Valley of Azanulbizar

The uproar of bellowing dwarves and the piercing blare of war horns echoing throughout the sunless valley signaled victory. Had they really won? After six long years of underground battles that culminated in a final descent into hell, was the impossible war finally over?

Thorin reached up to swipe aside the hair plastered by sweat across his face, and only succeeded in smearing more black grime into his eyes. He gasped and clutched his left arm, feeling a shock of breathtaking pain run up from his wrist to shoulder. The bones had to be broken in multiple places, with the damage worsened by his fighting on after it had been injured. It would never regain the same strength it once had even after healing.

As close as he had come and as close as his bodily pain still felt to death, somehow he was alive and standing. The battlefield surrounding him revealed a much grimmer fate for most of the eight thousand dwarves that had marched into Dimrill Dale. 

The truth of the death toll had been impossible to notice while the bloodshed continued, but after the last axe-stroke had fallen, it became clear that victory for Durin’s Folk was a questionable claim. 

A deep, throbbing ache clawed up Thorin’s leg with each step he took, as he limped across the barren plain, struggling to get his bearings in the black darkness of the cloudy night. Several times, he stumbled over what at first appeared to be a boulder or felled tree, but the clink of chainmail or steel armor announced a corpse.

A handful of torches moved in the distance, as Dwarven soldiers began the task of combing through the field, seeking any wounded left lying among the dead that might still be saved. Only then did it finally sink in for Thorin that he needed to find his brother, and that immediately drove out all awareness of his own pain and exhaustion. 

He staggered towards the nearest torch-bearer as quickly as he could. “Frerin. Have you seen Prince Frerin anywhere?!” The blood-stained, swollen-faced soldier merely blinked at him with confused, unrecognizing eyes. Thorin moved on to ask the next dwarf, and then another one, and so on with the same results. Finally he ripped the torch off one of the roaming rescuers’ hands and started searching the field of corpses himself, screaming his brother’s name until his voice ran hoarse.

They had begun the battle literally side-by-side in King Thrain’s mounted vanguard, charging at the advancing hordes of orcs that flowed down the mountain slopes above the East-gate. Their cavalry rams were quickly shot down, forcing them to plunge into the chaos on foot. In the initial onslaught of the orcs, the company led by the princes succeeded in driving their opponents back, and the brothers managed to stay within reach of each other. But then innumerable creatures, including trolls and wargs, began to pour out of Moria’s gate, and the tide of battle turned swiftly ill. Thorin lost track of his men as they fell at a rapid pace, and he was swept away from the sight of his brother as night’s terrible shadows cloaked the accursed valley.

It felt like an eternity before someone finally responded to Thorin’s relentless cries. He was found on the field by his cousin Dwalin, a dwarf who should have been counted too young to join their ranks but was so robust and strong for his age that his own father volunteered him along with his brother Balin.

“Praise Mahal!” Thorin hugged tightly the cousin he had practically helped raise, glad to finally lay eyes on a surviving relation. But when he pulled back and took a closer look at Dwalin’s expression, he found no shared joy or relief, but a face crumpled with sorrowful anguish. The cold dread swept back into Thorin’s chest. 

“What is it?”

“Frerin,” Dwalin choked out, cementing Thorin’s fears. “Hurry--you must come.”

They had set him down underneath a tree by the banks of the Kheled-zâram, far enough from the main battlefield so that the stench of death and decay did not overcome the lakeside air. Frerin’s eyes were closed, and he lay so still tucked between two giant roots that Thorin collapsed to his knees with a wail, fearing he was too late. 

But his brother’s eyes fluttered open at his voice, and his lips parted in a blood-stained smile.  “What took so long, nadad ?” he croaked. “The Halls await.”

“No Frerin,” Thorin shook his head vigorously, clutching his brother’s limp hand in a grip that would have crushed stone. “You cannot go. Your place is still here with me.”

“I cannot obey, Highness.” His chest heaved visibly in dire gasps for continued breath. “I had nearly slipped away. But had to see with my…eyes that you live and will not follow… where you should not yet be.”

“Frerin…”

“Not yet , Thorin.” Strength seemed to return briefly to the dying dwarf’s hand, and he squeezed Thorin’s fingers. “Not for a very long time still.” 

“There has to be something I can do,” Thorin said desperately. 

“Take my braid…” His words fell to wheezing, as the final dregs of strength he had clung to swiftly faded. “Back to Ezri. I love her. As much as…love… you.”

Thorin did not leave his brother’s side for hours after Frerin breathed his last. He succumbed to a deathlike sleep with his head upon the younger prince’s chest, and wept once more when he eventually awoke to find that it had been no nightmare. 

By morning’s light, the dwarves commenced gathering the corpses and stripping all their soldiers of armor and weapons, reclaiming every single piece so that none would fall into orc possession. Balin and Dwalin helped Thorin carry Frerin a long distance to the Longbeard camp set up outside the valley, where the prince’s body could receive care befitting his station.

King Thrain’s angry curses and anguished sobs filled the tent when he finally arrived, hobbled by his own near-fatal injuries, to grieve his lost son. Only then did Thorin finally leave to give his father privacy, and to seek out his cousin so he could make one more request of him.

“It would be my honor,” Balin said gravely. They sat by a campfire together as they made plans, nursing bowls of hot barley stew. It was the only food Thorin had consumed in almost three days, but it tasted like ash in his mouth as he forced it down for sustenance. “I shall start gathering materials immediately. It seems the plan for most of the fallen is to build great pyres, so while the supply of lumber might run short, there will be enough stone to work with.”

“I will scout for a suitable location.” Thorin set aside his half-eaten stew and reached into a pocket in his tunic, drawing out the braid of Frerin’s copper-brown hair that bore a betrothal bead marked with runes. He turned the small silver bead over with his fingers thoughtfully. “Somewhere on a hill with lots of sunshine. He was an odd enough dwarf to enjoy something like that.”

“Then I will build him the finest hilltop tomb I can manage,” the master stonemason promised. “But are you certain you would not rather carry him back home to his sweetheart?”

“Dunland is not home ,” Thorin said darkly. “One may argue that this orc-infested mountain is more our proper home than that place.”

Balin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Then do you have plans to return elsewhere when we are done here?”

“I do not know,” Thorin muttered. “It does not even seem to matter at the moment. Right now, I just feel nothing will ever matter again.”

He staggered to his feet, cradling his bandaged arm across his chest, and excused himself before walking off. He cut straight through the Longbeard camp, willing himself to ignore the growing pile of corpses he passed on his way out. But just outside of the campsite boundaries, another great pile caught and held his gaze--the collection of salvaged Dwarven armor and weaponry. 

One item in particular ensnared his attention, for it seemed to have magically appeared in front of him at the right moment, when it might have been abandoned by the Great Gate with the orc carcasses.

He remembered the day Frerin presented the intricately wrought shield to him, the product of a whole month’s labor in the forge. There had been no special occasion; just a proud young smith wishing to prove once and for all to his older brother that he had surpassed him in at least one skill. And truly, Thorin had never borne a finer shield into battle, and he knew he never would again. 

He picked up the black-and-silver shield by its edges and stared at the burnished surface that barely yielded a scratch. Only the leather strap was actually damaged, ripped apart by the sheer force of many powerful blows that had broken Thorin’s arm before it even managed to break the mighty shield. It could easily be repaired if he wished. 

Instead Thorin laid his shield to rest with Frerin, and had it molded into the stone that covered the top of his tomb. Your death will not be in vain, brother, was Thorin’s last promise before he bid farewell to the hilltop grave. I will not forget the vengeance you are owed, and I will never forgive the betrayers of your trust.

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[oddaodd]

· Ominous  ·

Requests: ” If so I have a Tommy Shelby x Reader one please ? She had been taking by a rival of Tommy’s. They got her back.... but how they would deal with the after effects ? Tommy won’t let her out of his sight, but she is struggling and pretending that she is fine. “ andddd  “Can I request something please ? Tommy and female reader ?Thinking back to season 2 when the shop got raided by the Lee’s. If Tommy’s girlfriend was there and she got hurt trying to stop them.”

Author’s note: I decided to combine these two requests because I felt they sort of went well together, I hope you don’t mind. And also, I got kind of inspired by my lovely Beth Dutton from Yellowstone because she’s such a queen and a badass and I think she’s the coolest. As always I with you all the loveliest of days ❤️

Warnings: violence, blood, trauma and language.

·

It was a normal day at the shop, there was not an ominous breath of air that could have warned Y/n about an imminent attack so when the doors to the shop violently opened she was caught off guard.

The humorous tale Scudboat was telling her about his recent misfortune on bets was cut of short as the invaders pointed a gun to his head, commanding him to empty the box where  they kept the money they had gotten off bets for the day.

Scudboat turned to look at Y/n in a somewhat questioning manner and she nodded not wanting him to get shot, before fixing her gaze on the man holding the gun in an almost daring manner.

She recognized him, from the fairs, he was from the Lee family.

Y/n remained still where she sat, determined to not give them the pleasure of seeing her scared, but her calm demeanor irked the man and soon he  turned his attention to her.

“Why is he asking for your permission?” He barked as Scudboat fumbled with the keys of the box.  

“Because he is a smart man” she said emotionless trying to reach for the gun she kept under the table without them noticing.

The Lees sniggered and one of them asked “And who the fuck are you?”

Y/n knew she shouldn’t tell them who she was. So she just stared at them ignoring their inquiry.

“Toss the place” The one with the gun commanded to the others while he walked closer to Y/n now pointing the gun at her. “And you, keep an eye on that one” he said signaling to Scudboat who had by then given the box and stared at Y/n, afraid.

“You are Thomas Shelby’s new whore” the man spoke tauntingly.

Y/n laughed satirically  “I wish I was”

The man smiled a sinister smile and inched closer to her “I’ve seen you with him”

“Oh God I don’t know why that could be, perhaps because I work in his shop?” She spoke sarcastically “You’re not the brightest one of the lot, are you?”

“Y/N” Scudboat muttered in a warning tone that Y/n choose to ignore and instead smiled hypocritically to the man standing before her.

That taunting  smile was all it took for the man to snap and in a second, her head was being slammed violently against the table. A throb of pain shot through her head as the man’s hand slammed it a couple more times .

Y/n heard Scudbost’s chair being pushed back at what she assumed was him standing up to stop the man from beating her further and promptly after, the agonizing sound of a pistol being fired followed by a loud thud rang through the small room. She tried to not let the anguish she felt show as the man pulled at her hair to admire her now bloody face.

“We know there’s a safe here” he spoke “What’s the combination?”

“I don’t know it”

The man smiled again before slamming her face on the table one more time. As a headache began materializing being her eyes she finally took hold of the gun under the table.

“We don’t have time for games, tell me the combination” he threatened pulling at her hair to see her face again.

“Or what?” At this point Y/n knew she was only being this bold because if she wasn’t she would break down crying and seeming weak in front of the lees wouldn’t lead to anything good.

“You’re gonna shoot me?” She yelled instigatingly at his face “you won’t ever get into the safe, so fucking go ahead!”

There was a fraction of a second in which the man’s eyes seemed uncertain and Y/n seized the opportunity and shot him through the table before shooting the one that had shot Scudboat

The commotion caused all the other men to look in her direction. They exchanged glances not knowing what to do next. Y/n pointed the gun in their general direction and with the most threatening voice she could muster she threatened to kill them if they didn’t leave, and to her surprise they did. She didn’t lower the gun till the last one was out of the shop and then she allowed herself to heave a cry before going to check on Scudboat.

“Couldn’t you have spared the sass?” He joked weakly.

Y/n chortled sadly and a few moments later the door of the shop opened again, Y/n went for her pistol but rested at ease when she saw young Finn’s terrified face.

“Go tell your brother’s we’ve been done over”

When the Shelbys arrived, Tommy was by her side in a trice. Y/n wanted nothing but to collapse in his arms and cry mercilessly, but she found herself unable to. She felt guilty for what had happened, and in her eyes she didn’t have a right to whine not when Scudboat was laying there next to her with a serious bullet wound.

“Im fine” she said in a meek voice as Tommy’s blue eyes worriedly scanned over her face.

“Let’s take you home”

The rest of the Shelbys stayed on the shop and took care of Scudboat as Tommy lead Y/n to their shared home. He ran her a bath and rubbed liniment on her bruises with utmost care while Y/n tried not to show how she was feeling.

Days passed and Y/n continued with her day to day life like nothing had happened and though Tommy could see right through her he decided not to comfort her about it.

At night he would hold her close to him which helped her sleep and during the day he would rarely leave her side, which didn’t present much of a change of routine since she was always near him.

One evening they decided to go The Garrison for drinks and Y/n though a bit hesitant to go, complied to Ada’s pleas. So there she was, sitting in the private room with Tommy’s arm safely draped over her shoulders.

As the night dragged on and more and more people flooded into the pub the acoustics of the place made the hustle of coversations  sound much louder. Y/n had never noticed it before but now she did, and she couldn’t ignore it.

She snuggled closer to Tommy and took a sip of her whiskey hoping it to take the edge off her surroundings and for a while it did. The alcohol helped her get into the tale Polly was telling and she began enjoying herself until a fight erupted in the bar.

Even though it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, she felt uneasy. For a reason the fight sounded much more violent than the usual Garrison drunken fight, but upon taking a look at the unfazed faces of the Shelby family as they continued talking, she realized she was the only one to whom it sounded severe. The yelling and Harry’s authoritative voice as he broke the fight penetrated through the walls of the private room, causing her hand to hold onto tommy’s. Her heart pounding faster and her breathing short.

He noticed immediately “You alright, love?”

Y/n turned to look at him “Can you walk me home?”  

His face went from concerned to reassuring and he stood up. After bidding goodbye to everyone the pair left the private room. The fight had ceased, but still Y/n walked with a nervous step until they were out.

Tommy offered her a cigarette as they walked through Small Heath’s cold streets and when they finally reached home and closed the door Y/n hurriedly made her way upstairs, to their room.

Tommy sighed and prepared a teapot of tea before going upstairs. He knocked on their bedroom door before entering and was welcomed to the sight of Y/n sitting on their bed, sobbing into her hands.

“Love?”

“It was awful, Tommy” she cried as he made his way to the bed, leaving the teapot on the nightstand and sat next to her holding her in a tight embrace as she finally broke down.

“I was so fucking scared and I thought Scudboat had been killed because of me and I didn’t want to die but I couldn’t let them see me scared and I couldn’t let them have the money and..I.. they…” she whimpered into his chest.

“Shhh its alright, love” he said stoking soft circles on her back.

“Now I’m always afraid, every single fucking noise startles me and I hate it.  I hate that I can’t be in crowded noisy places without feeling like something is about to go terribly wrong and I feel so fragile”

“Y/n, Scudboat is alive and well, You are alive and well all because of you” he said softly tilting her chin so he could look into her eyes “I don’t know where we would be if it wasn’t for your fucking stubbornness” he added on a lighter tone.

Y/n smiled weakly feeling a it better and buried her face in the crook of his neck with a sigh. His warmth feeling like a sort of save haven.

“I love you,Y/N ” he spoke into her ear tenderly “and I’m always going to be here for you”.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[like-rain-or-confetti]

A Story (Alec Volturi x Reader)

You opened your eyes, sitting up straight. Your back was stiff. You were in your bathtub, fully clothed, soaked. The bathwater threatening to spill over and freezing. You frowned. “I need to stop drinking.” You grumbled before rolling out of the tub. You groaned, too sore to even consider standing up. You’d clean the mess later. You crawled into your bedroom before flopping onto the floor. This had to be the last time you drank, it had to be. Better ignoring that you definitely could have drowned, since you were so intoxicated that you tried to take a bath and didn't even take off your clothes. You couldn’t even remember the night before so really, it wasn’t worth it. Whilst you didn’t have a headache, thankfully, you just felt tired...and cold. Phone, where was it? You groaned, a sudden feeling you had left it in the bathroom. You didn't see it around your room and it wasn't in any pockets thankfully. With a sigh, you figured you couldn’t avoid the day any longer, although it would be very nice to try. Regardless, you slowly got up and trudged back into the bathroom. 

Your phone was on the floor, next to the bath. A couple of water droplets lay on the screen but remained undamaged...although it had twenty percent battery left. You had two missed calls from Alice. You checked your texts to find none. You decided to call Carlisle who picked up after two rings.  “Hello?”  “Carlisle, it’s (Y/N).” You said.  “Hello, are you okay?”  “Yeah, i’m good. I just...do you know if i was drinking last night?” Carlisle seemed amused. “No, why?”  “Oh, no reason. I just, woke up weird and tired.”  “Im sure you could have done that without alcohol.”You could hear his smile in his voice. You hummed in amusement.  “Are you coming to visit today?”  “Yeah, I can do that.”  “I just wanted to check since you said you would yesterday?” Carlisle responded. “I did? I must have forgotten but yeah, i can do that. I’ll come over later. I’m going to take a nap first, okay?”  “Alright, I’ll see you soon.”  “Bye, Carlisle.” 

When you arrived at the Cullen’s, they seemed as though they were waiting.  “The Volturi are coming to visit.” Carlisle informed you.  “The who?” You made a face of confusion.  “The Volturi.”  “I’m going to assume thats some vampire friends i don’t know about.” You shrugged. Carlisle turned to you with a look of confusion of his own. “You’ve-” He paused. Carlisle's eyes widened, a sickening thought rushed through him. Panic rushed through Carlisle realising the likelihood of his thought become more and more likely. "Stay here for a while. We have guests, I believe you'll have met them before." Carlisle swallowed hard trying not to scare you. You lightly shrugged. 

A group of seven arrived, all dressed in black and grey with cloaks, varying in the same colours. You could tell they were an older coven with how they moved. You were given their names and noted the odd looks they gave you. You figured it was down to being human, you were a big no-no from what you remember. "Do you know these people?" Carlisle asked you before putting his hand into Aro's in a weird bizarre handshake. You shook your head. "No. We haven't met." Carlisle inhaled.

This made Esme step towards you. "(Y/N), why don't you help me in the kitchen?" She smiled. "Carlisle will get our guests settled in before you make their acquaintance." You nodded. "Sure thing, Esme." Without a second glance you turned, heading for the kitchen, Esme sending Carlisle a glance. 

Half an hour passed and Esme led you to the living room where the Volturi awaited your presence. Your eyes immediately shot to Carlisle, nervous about meeting his friends but he nodded in encouragement. The leader in the middle was the first to greet you. "You must be young (Y/N), we've heard so much about you. We are delighted to meet you. My name is Aro." "Hi...it's nice to meet you too." You nodded. He held out a hand and you hesitantly reached out thinking it was a handshake. Instead, he cradled your hand in his own briefly. A flicker of an unrecognisable emotion passing his face before his wide smile returned. "These are my brothers, Caius and Marcus." The two men beside him nodded to you and you offered them shy smiles. He gestured to who you were told were their guards. "This is Jane, Alec, Demetri and Felix." You nodded. "Hi." You said nervously as the four nodded at you. Later that night you huddled into your seat. "So you guys have been around for a long time?" You asked looking over the Volturi members. "Yes. Quite." Aro smiled slightly. "Do you guys have any good stories? Surely you've got at least one after all this time." The Volturi looked around amongst each other, Marcus kept his head down whilst the Cullen's looked around uncertain of how to continue the conversation. Marcus spoke up, meeting your gaze. "I have a story. It was quite some time ago but I believe it's one our coven cherishes." All eyes were on Marcus, uncertain just what he was doing. However, you seemed pleased. "I'd love to hear it...if you're willing to tell it." "I believe it would be a good one to tell." Marcus nodded. "This is a story about a human we once knew, one who after all this time will continue to be very special to us." 

(Y/N) caught Alec in their sights as he approached the door to the spare bedroom. "Alec!" They cried out with a grin. "You're here!" "So are you." Alec said peeking around the door. "What are you doing here? You don't live here." Alec couldn't help the amused smirk building upon his face as he watched (Y/N) struggle to reach for something on top of the closet. "I'm visiting but...! I can't reach my folder! I left it here the last time I stayed over. It has all my documents in there." With a defeated sigh, (Y/N) began to drag themselves down the closet doors. "I'd offer my assistance but I don't think I can't do anything without damaging furniture." Alec pondered. Alec's eyes suddenly glinted, clearly having an idea. "Come here." Alec bent down. "What am I doing?" They asked with confusion. "You're going to sit on my shoulders and I'll lift you up." Alec responded. (Y/N) made a noise of protest but couldn't think of a reason why. They couldn't necessarily tell him you were too heavy, tall or would hurt him given Alec was inhumanly strong. "...Promise you won't drop me?" They asked him. Alec looked unimpressed. "I have no reason to drop you now, come on." (Y/N) whined quietly in defeat once again moving to Alec. 

As they got into position they looked down at him nervously. "You're sure I won't hurt you?" (Y/N) asked and Alec rolled his eyes, wrapping his hands around their ankles and standing up with ease. (Y/N) squealed, although it seemed Alec was right. He wouldn't drop them. "Oh it's all the way at the back, I bet Emmett did that. Can you take a step forward please?" Alec complied and suddenly the folder was in arm's length. (Y/N) grabbed it. "Thank you!" "Did you know that it's very likely you couldn't get down now that I have a hold of your ankles?" Alec smirked and (Y/N)’s smile of accomplishment vanished. "You'd get tired quickly." They retorted. "Would I? Shall we see how long I last?" Alec responded. "If you don't put me down, I'll eventually pee on you. It's inevitable." Alec immediately pulled a face of disgust, crouching back down and letting (Y/N) stand up.  "So are you visiting the Cullen's or have you broke in? Oh! Oh! Did you run away from the Volturi and so have sought shelter with the Cullen's?" They asked. He scoffed. "My coven is visiting to check the progress of the hybrid." Alec answered. 

Later that night, (Y/N) and Alec were outside, sitting on the Cullen's balcony floor. "Why do you need those? Those documents?" Alec asked turning his head towards them. "Oh, it's just stuff to keep the state happy. It's documents saying that Carlisle is my emergency contact and stuff, he's my legal guardian though I'm not living with him. I'm in contact with him frequently and he gives me money for my house. All of that stuff. Boring really." "You still haven't been in contact with your parents?" Alec asked and (Y/N) smiled at him sadly before shaking their head. "You should reach out, (Y/N). The argument was a typical one. They have no reason to hold a grudge against their own child for this long over something so trivial." "It's a little more complicated than that. Although I guess deep down, I like to think that maybe I do have their forgiveness." They admitted. "You didn't do anything wrong. Besides, for the last option, you could always make them forget the argument ever happened and avoid the topic forever." Alec smirked at (Y/N) who playfully shoved him. "Thanks Alec." They said with sarcasm. "It'll be okay, I assure you." Alec said to them. "They'll come around if they aren't already waiting for you to come back to them." 

(Y/N)’s gift was phenomenal. Unique but dangerous due to its impact. They could make people forget things, everything really. Whether it were, events memories or thoughts, none of them were exempt. The only person it didn't work on was themselves. Since meeting the Cullen's and eventually Alec, (Y/N) had better control of their gift making them a very tempting addition to Aro's collection. Although that was still very much in discussion. Whilst they'd have to be changed at some point, it wasn't consensus that they were to join the Volturi. As a matter of fact, it was highly debated among both covens instead. 

"You talk about my ability like you can trust me with it. I'm still learning, you could be forgotten at any time." Alec chuckled. "First of all, it doesn't work on yourself. Secondly, you don't forget someone like me." Alec's smile faded. "Not for good reasons, might I add." "Good reasons for me... you've been nicer to me lately." (Y/N) said. "I'm trying...it's not your fault you're human." Alec smirked slightly. (Y/N) narrowed your eyes on him playfully. "It's all I can ask." Alec wasn't the most open individual nor the kindest. He certainly had nothing nice to say about (Y/N) when they first met. Although over time, he gradually warmed up to them- even if it was reluctantly. Now (Y/N) felt like Alec understood them better than anyone in the world and accepted them. It made their bond to him stronger than most bonds could ever be. (Y/N) was confident that a piece of them would always be connected to Alec, nothing could divide them from him.

None of the Volturi really understood why Carlisle had a form of guardianship over (Y/N) and what a conflict with their parents actually meant for them to no longer be around their parents. Whilst the Volturi wanted to respect their privacy, it was important to them if (Y/N) were to become a vampire eventually. It was necessary to have the details. Although even being close with Alec didn't give them any answers as (Y/N) never told him any complete details. 

There was an argument about (Y/N) wanting to be independent, treated less like a child and since then, they hadn't been near them since. Whilst this seemed logical that (Y/N) left, it didn't make sense why their parents hadn't reached out to them in so long. So much so (Y/N) was convinced that they couldn't be forgiven. 

Marcus asked (Y/N) about their parents when talking one night. "Do they know about your gift?" He asked. (Y/N) wanted to wince at the reference of their ability being a 'gift' when there was very little actually pleasant about it. "No, they don't. I never told them and after that argument, I guess I had made up my mind they could never know."  "Do you miss them?" Marcus asked. "I try to forget about them if I'm honest." (Y/N) answered. This response made Marcus tilt his head slightly. They looked at him, really scrutinizing him. Marcus was the most kind and gentle of the Volturi leaders. (Y/N) couldn't help but trust him, especially after he came to defence of their friendship with Alec to anyone who questioned it. Marcus had always made it clear that the bond Alec shared with them was undeniable. "Can I tell you the full story?" "If you wish." Marcus said quietly. 

(Y/N) could remember the moment that their house stopped being your home. Everything was as it always had been. Signs of life, nothing missing from it's usual place. However, it was no longer welcoming as it had been before. Even the photographs of (Y/N) and their family, scattered around the place. Things were different now. Instead of a family, there were just memories of one. It took some time for (Y/N) to understand how their gift worked. Although they were forced to learn the hard way. (Y/N) had been arguing with their parents when (Y/N) said something about forgetting (Y/N) ever existed. Their parents did. They never had any children by that name. Nor had they ever seen (Y/N) before. All memories of them gone in a matter of moments. From then on (Y/N) could only see their parents from a distance, outside their house. Their parents wondered why they had pictures with the strange person in their house and got rid of them too. "I wanted to remember every inch of them as they were. Their eyes, nose, mouth, hair. Every tiny detail, because I knew after today. I'd never see them again." (Y/N) told Marcus. "Why are you so determined to pretend this didn't happen rather than embrace it and carry on?" Marcus asked. There was a moment of silence. Neither of the two looking at one another. "You rejected Corin's gift when offered comfort after your loss. Why?" (Y/N) responded. Marcus thought about the answer but it didn't require much thought. He had spent decades thinking about that decision and why he made it. "Because I wanted to feel the pain. I didn't want to feel content about her death." (Y/N) thought over his answer before replying, sadness almost radiating from them. "See that's where you and I differ. I want nothing more than to forget." Their voice was quieter as they looked down at their hands. It was safe to say, Alec was furious at (Y/N) when he found they had left out such an important detail when it came to why their parents didn't speak to them. (Y/N) had more than one chance to tell him and they didn't. It felt like a betrayal, like they had lied. Alec only ever asked (Y/N) to be honest with him, no secrets. This secret was a pretty big one at the very least. (Y/N), on the other hand, didn't think anything wrong with that. They were allowed some privacy like every other person. They were sure Alec didn't tell them everything so why should they share something they simply hadn't been ready to speak about until that moment. It was how the argument had began and it seemed the more defensive (Y/N) got, the more angry Alec became. 

"This isn't a big deal, you're making something out of nothing!" (Y/N) said with exasperation. "It is something, (Y/N)! You didn't trust me with the full story and you told Marcus! Even Carlisle knew!" "Carlisle had to know!" (Y/N) argued back. "If he didn't I'd have been taken by social services! I told Marcus because I was ready to talk about it and I knew he wouldn't make a big deal out of it! It was nothing to do with trust!" Alec scoffed sending them a sneer. That was when their anger had begun to really build. "Am I honestly supposed to believe that you tell me everything!?" (Y/N) snapped. "That's different! There are parts of my life that aren't necessary and would only scare you." "Like your complete lack of trust and hatred towards humans for being burned at the stake? Like the dark, twisted things you and your coven have done in the name of justice?" "You don't know what you're talking about." Alec said icily. "You're just a little human who thinks they know everything when they know nothing. I have given you no reason not to trust me-" "Alec, I didn't do anything to you! Ever! I didn't accuse you of witch craft! So what did I ever do to you like the rest of the human population!?" Alec laughed darkly. "Of course, you wouldn't understand. How could I expect you to? You're only human." 

(Y/N) was stunned into silence before fury took over them. "You are cold." (Y/N) said, anger and disgust in their eyes. "Cold and empty. So empty you have to suck out the life of everyone around you to feel even an ounce of emotion. Perhaps that is what your village  saw in you! Perhaps that's what Aro sees in you! A monster just like the rest of your coven!" (Y/N) looked taken aback by their own words, stunned. When they saw the look of growing rage upon Alec's face, they knew they had done it again. Like they had with your parents, they lashed out with hurtful words they didn't mean. Alec was very hurt. (Y/N) knew by the emotion overpowering his stoic gaze. "I'm so sorry." (Y/N) whispered, their anger rushing away as they began to feel nothing but guilt. The look Alec gave (Y/N) could kill but instead he began to walk by them. (Y/N) reached out for him, grabbing his hand. "Alec, wait-" They began but gasped as they immediately felt cold numbness crawl up their arm. Alec roughly tore their hand off him and they were so caught off guard that they didn't even notice the slight pain you felt within their fingers. Suddenly (Y/N) felt like they were on fire. 

(Y/N) screamed, collapsing to the ground, seeing Jane was now beside her brother. The two watched (Y/N) scream without sympathy. "So that's how you really feel." Jane said simply. Alice and Carlisle were quick to rush by the twins and towards (Y/N). "Enough! Not in my house!" Carlisle barked.  The pain stopped, only (Y/N)’s hysterical crying being heard. "I didn't mean it!" They cried out as Alice pulled them into a hug, hushing them. "It's okay." She told (Y/N). "You're okay."

It was obvious that all the Cullen's and the Volturi knew what had happened and surprisingly enough the Volturi also seemed rather angry by (Y/N)’s outburst. Alec had made it known, (Y/N) wasn’t worth his time. (Y/N)’s true feelings had finally come to light. Yet none of the Volturi seemed to believe them when they said it wasn't true. Despite knowing (Y/N) sometimes said things they didn't mean. The last time they had seen their parents being one of them. 

It had been Marcus that suggested the two covens separated for the night for some space. Especially since the Volturi hadn't fed yet. However, much to (Y/N)’s surprise, someone of the Volturi had phoned the Cullen's. Whoever it was, was asking on the leaders behalf how they were. If (Y/N) had to guess it was Marcus. If they were hopeful, Alec would want to know too. (Y/N) stared at Carlisle, who stood at the entrance way. "Marcus wants to know if you're okay." Carlisle said. "However I'm not entirely sure what to tell him. So, how are you (Y/N)?" (Y/N) slowly met his eyes. They looked exhausted from how upset they had been. "Tell him what he wants to hear. Tell him that I'm fine." Their voice croaked slightly. "I don't think I can do that." Carlisle said softly. "Why?" (Y/N) responded flatly. "You're asking me to lie for you." Carlisle replied. "He thinks I'm a monster. So it's better he thinks that way." Carlisle began to protest but Esme appeared with the phone. "Would you be willing to speak to him?" Carlisle asked, taking the phone from Esme. Even as Carlisle put it on speaker, Marcus asked if (Y/N) was alright. He even acknowledged that Jane's behaviour wasn't necessary. Somewhat of an apology. However (Y/N) stayed put, simply staring at the phone. After another few moments of silence, Carlisle took the phone off speaker before putting the phone to his ear. "My apologies, Marcus. I don't think they're feeling well enough to come to the phone right now. They appreciate your concern." "Of course, Carlisle." Marcus responded. "I thought it best to express my concern given Jane's gift." Marcus lifted his gaze to the twins, Jane looking indifferent whilst Alec's eyes were latched onto Marcus. "Emotions are high right now, would you appreciate our return tomorrow?" "Of course." Carlisle responded. "I'm going to keep (Y/N) here over night to keep an eye on them but I'm sure they will be just fine." After some more conversation, Marcus bid farewell and hung up the phone. 

He turned to Alec. "I assure you, they didn't mean it." "That doesn't matter." Caius snapped. "They still said it." Marcus turned his gaze to Caius. "You suffer from the same flaw Caius. If anyone should be understanding, it's you." "Why should I take the time to understand? They're human. That's a waste of energy." Marcus turned back to Alec. "Trust me. I'd know if there were any truth in their words." 

"They're coming back tomorrow?" (Y/N) whispered. Carlisle nodded. "We can take you home before they get here if you like. However, I feel more comfortable keeping an eye on you tonight after..." Carlisle trailed off but (Y/N) knew. After Jane used her ability on them. (Y/N) nodded. They were given the option to stick around the next day. Although (Y/N) declined, deciding they'd go home instead. 

"I'll drop you off." Alice said brightly in attempt to keep the mood light. "Thanks." (Y/N) said quietly. Alice, Carlisle and Esme went quiet. "Let's go out the front." Alice smiled. "I'll go and get my keys and meet you at the car okay?" (Y/N) nodded. "Sure." "Come and visit tomorrow." Esme nodded to them with a smile, bringing (Y/N) into a hug. "Okay." They responded quietly, offering her a small brief smile before heading out the door. 

Just as the door shut behind (Y/N), the Volturi moved into the living room after being let in by Jasper. Carlisle was quick to welcome them. Before they could ask, Carlisle explained whilst Alice passed by with her keys in hand. "Alice will be back shortly. She's taking (Y/N) home." 

Alice grinned at (Y/N) as she walked down the path. "Alright, ready to go?" Even now she was trying to keep the mood light. (Y/N) nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for the ride." "Of course!" Alice responded. (Y/N) kept their eyes on her, not daring to look at the house until they were in the car. 

Two days passed and Alec still wasn't speaking to )Y/N). Although (Y/N) figured it would have been best if they were the one to reach out to him given the situation as well as knowing Alec wasn't necessarily one to do any kind of approaching unless it were to kill them. (Y/N) found him alone and decided that was a better opportunity than any. He sat his his back to them, seemingly reading in Carlisle's study. "Alec?" (Y/N) asked quietly. They didn't receive a response, not even the turn of his head. He remained unmoving. "Could we talk for a minute? I want to apologise again. I didn't mean it but I still said it and I shouldn't have. It was an awful thing to say and I'm so sorry." Their words still didn't earn even the turn of Alec's head. "I can't stand not talking to you." (Y/N) began. "You're my best friend and I miss you. I want to make it up to you. To show you that I’m sorry and that I'd never think such a thing of you." (Y/N) still received no response. They sighed. "I don't know what to do here." "What makes you think you can do anything?" Alec's voice was cold. Although (Y/N) considered it progress. Especially as he turned around to look at (Y/N). His face was unforgiving, gaze piercing and his mouth in a tight line. "We both know I'm going to hurt you regardless." Suddenly he was standing and slowly moving towards them. (Y/N) took a step back. "You're scaring me." They said, trying to maintain the distance. He looked at (Y/N) like he did everyone else. He looked at them like he wanted them to burn as he did, like (Y/N) deserved more than he ever did. Alec looked like he most certainly would hurt them or even kill them. "I didn't mean it!" (Y/N) pleaded. "I'm sorry!" Alec glared at (Y/N). "It was my fault. It won't happen again." (Y/N) faltered. "What?" “It’s my fault for thinking you were different from any other disgusting wretched human!” Alec had most certainly returned the favour, his words cut (Y/N) to the core. They felt tears well up in their eyes. "Get out." Alec snarled and they did. Without question. 

Another day or so passed and (Y/N) had an idea of how to fix all of it. Once again, (Y/N) waited until he was alone, this time he was outside by the tree line before the woods. "I'm mad at myself too, you know." (Y/N) began, crossing your arms over your chest. "I felt the same way when I made my parents forget about me. The confusion and fear they had to see someone claim to be their child, have photographs with them but have no recollection of them ever existing. I was so angry with myself for saying what I did and I'm even more angry that I did it again but this time to you. I meant what I said Alec. You're my best friend. What I'm trying to say is that I get it, if you hate me. I understand. Although I really do want to try anything I can to make this up to you." His back was still towards (Y/N). "You won't even look at me." (Y/N) said quietly. Alec turned to look at them with an empty stare. "Alec..." (Y/N) trailed off. "I want you to forget this happened." "What?" Alec's eyes narrowed on them. "I want you to be happy. I never wanted to hurt you. So I want you to forget-" "No!" Alec covered his ears and shut his eyes tightly. "Alec, look at me." (Y/N) stepped closer. "No! Get back!" Alec yelled. That was when Carlisle hurried in between them both. "What is it?" Carlisle asked, looking between them both. "They're trying to make me forget!" "It's better this way!" (Y/N) pleaded to Carlisle. "I never meant for any of this and it's hurting him! I can fix it!" "(Y/N), I want you to listen to me very carefully." Carlisle began, blocking them from Alec. “These thoughts, these memories, they don’t belong to you. They are not yours to take." "I-" (Y/N) struggled to respond. Feeling both the eyes of Alec and Carlisle on them. Carlisle put his hands on their shoulders. "This isn't the way." "I can't believe you!" Alec spat. "This is how you want to make it up to me? Wipe my memory and pretend it never happened!?" (Y/N) could see the hatred in Alec's eyes. Any second chance he had considered was long gone. 

In that moment (Y/N) gave in. They knew they couldn't fix it. (Y/N) couldn't make it up to him and he wasn't willing to forget. It was over. Jane was the first to storm up to (Y/N) when they came back into the house. She was immediately held back and to their surprise she didn't use her gift.  However, she did rant that they were lucky she couldn't slap you at the very least. Although she didn't need to. (Y/N) was suffering enough. They didn't look at anyone, instead walking out the front door. Alec and Carlisle entered the house, Alec yelling in outrage. Carlisle simply wasn't listening to him. His eyes immediately searching for (Y/N). "They left...what happened?" Rosalie asked. Carlisle said nothing, rushing out the door after (Y/N). 

It was night time and most certainly not safe for them to walk home alone but they were determined to. Tears running down their cheeks, arms crossed over their chest as they briskly walked down the road. "(Y/N)!" They heard Carlisle call out behind them. (Y/N) didn't respond, continuing to walk away. Suddenly Carlisle was behind them, tugging them back. "(Y/N), it's not safe out here. Come back inside, we can figure-" "No!" (Y/N) shouted back. "Get off of me! I'm going home!" "Let me take you home then, come back to the car." Carlisle said. "I'm not going back in there! I’ve lost everything! It's my fault! I lost my friend, I lost my parents and there's no one else to blame but myself!" (Y/N) yelled. "(Y/N), you are a wonderful person with a remarkable gift. You just need some guidance. We can help you, just come back. I'll take you home!" Carlisle pleaded. "You know what the cruel part about my gift is Carlisle?" (Y/N) said significantly more quiet, an eerie calmness taking over them. "I can't use it on myself. I can make everyone around me forget anything but the one who wants to forget the most is me." (Y/N) took a step forward. "Can you take me home please?" Carlisle nodded. 

Outside (Y/N)’s house, Carlisle pulled over. "Come to the house tomorrow. We'll have something figured out by morning." (Y/N) sighed before nodding. "Alright, I'll do it." "This will improve, (Y/N). We'll talk things over with them." Carlisle assured them. "Yeah, just at what cost?" (Y/N) mumbled. "I lost my friend. Alec will never speak to me again." "You don't know that." Carlisle responded hurriedly. "I do." (Y/N) said. "I'm just going to sleep this off. I'll see you tomorrow." 

(Y/N) decided to run a bath later that night. Kneeling on the floor they turned on the tap which began to fill the tub. They felt the weight of every decision they had made on their body and no longer could they even cry about it. Whilst (Y/N) thought a bath would be best, they didn't really care about it being too warm or too cold. As a matter of fact, they didn't think further than the action itself. 

"They hurt me." Alec ground out. Marcus wanted Alec to see reason. Not only that, Marcus wanted Alec to admit the reality of the situation and not hide from it. It was of no surprise to him considering (Y/N) was the first proper friend Alec had, the closest anyone had ever come to the twins. "Just as you hurt them." Marcus replied. "You've hurt many people, Alec. (Y/N) is one of many on that list. Yet regardless, they want you in their life. They want your friendship. You want to punish them but you don't realise they've already punished themselves. More so than is necessary. Furthermore, you aren't just punishing (Y/N), you're punishing yourself. I know you want to be their friend but you won't let yourself." "They-" "You're torturing yourself as much as your torturing them." Marcus said simply. "I think they frightened you, boy. I think you forgave them the minute they said it and that frightened you." Alec didn't have a response. As much as he tried. He couldn't tell Marcus he was wrong because he wasn't. "I can't trust them." Alec responded. "You can. You simply won't. They said awful things but still want you in their life. Apologizing the minute it was said. You've never experienced that and it bothers you that it makes it difficult to act in your usual response." "I don't know how." Alec said after a moment of silence. "I don't know how to show that I care about them and I don't know how to show it when I forgive them. I'm so used to pushing people away that...I don't know how to let people in." "You tell them." Marcus responded. "Even if it means you need to say it to yourself first. Put down the weight of the past. Even if it's only for them." Silence filled the room. "I forgive them." Alec said under his breath, it was quiet, barely audible but there none the less. 

Alice tilted her head, staring at nothing in particular. “What is it Alice?” Jasper asked. “I think i should check on (Y/N).” She responded. “I can’t be sure but i think something is wrong.”  “They’re upset.” Carlisle responded. “Do you suspect they’re in danger?” Alice tilted her head again. “I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell, I see them and then it just goes black.”  “Why not give them a call?” Esme asked lightly. Alice nodded, immediately going for her phone. 

(Y/N)’s phone buzzed beside them, as they sat and watched the running tap. It was a text from Bella, telling them that Jake and the pack were around the area, making sure they knew the Volturi wouldn’t come within their vicinity for the night. (Y/N) was about to respond when they got a phone call from Alice.  “Hello?” (Y/N) answered.  “Hi (Y/N), I just wanted to check in with you since things didn’t end too well tonight.” They paused and Alice noticed. “They’re just leaving now for the night.” Alice said, locking eyes with Alec as the Volturi moved towards the door.  “I’ll be fine.” (Y/N) responded.  “I... thought i had a vision of you but, I couldn’t see anything.” (Y/N) smiled slightly with a hum of amusement. “You don’t need to look out for me, Alice. I’m just going to go for a bath and head to bed.”  “Are you sure?” Alice asked.  “Of course. Besides, I’ve already began running the water...as you know.” Alice hummed quietly in amusement. “This will be fixed tomorrow.” (Y/N) swallowed. “I know.” (Y/N) said quietly.  “It’s a good sign they want to see you, you know?” Alice said.  “I can only hope.” They said simply.  “Anyway, get some sleep and i’ll speak to you tomorrow, yeah?”  “Yeah, have a good night Alice.”  “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).” 

When (Y/N) hung up the phone, a tear ran down their cheek. ‘disgusting wretched human!’ Alec’s voice rang in their head. (Y/N) put their phone on the floor next to them. (Y/N) felt their clothes stick to them as they sank into the water, leaning back in the bath. The calm luke-warm water peaceful, like their mind. (Y/N) felt a tear run down their cheek. (Y/N) shook their head biting back their tears. Before any more could fall, (Y/N) slowly sank underneath the water. After a brief moment,(Y/N) sat up, their hair dripped as they felt another wave of calm wash over them. (Y/N) noticed a reflection of the ceiling along the water. An idea rushed to their mind and that was when they knew, what they had to do. (Y/N) hunched over slightly, arms moving to the edge of the tub, more droplets falling down the sides. They looked at their reflection.  “You’re going to forget. You’re going to forget the Volturi, forget what happened. You’ll forget ever meeting them. You’re going to forget that you have a gift to make people forget things. You won’t think to even question it. If it’s brought up. It’ll be like a dream, or story that you made up. You’ll forget ever using it, you wont remember to question why your parents aren't around.” It wasn’t known when (Y/N) had stopped repeating those very words. Although it wouldn’t concern them, they’d forgotten they had ever done it. "If only (Y/N) would have waited. If only we were quicker. Then maybe we would have had the time to tell them that they were forgiven. That for some of us, there was nothing to forgive. Maybe if we had spent more thought, we'd have known how much hurt they truly felt. However by then, it was too late what was done was done. They'd forgotten who we were, forgotten what they had done and all the details in between, washed away by their gift. We'd never know if such a gift could be reversed but could only hope that they've found peace and happiness. They'd live out their life, never knowing the happiness they gave and the joy they spread to many."  Marcus finished.

Many in the room couldn't help but glance at you, wanting to see your reaction. Perhaps a flicker of recognition would show. Your head lowered and the two covens seemed almost hopeful. You lifted your head, wiping your eyes. "That's sad. I hoped for a happy ending." A pang hit some of their chests, that statement had remained the same even before you had forgotten. A quiet hum escaped you. "You know it's strange, you said the humans name was (Y/N). My name is (Y/N) too." "Oh?" Marcus responded lightly with a ghost of a smile. You nodded. "It's a funny coincidence, I suppose." You looked at Marcus with uncertainty. "I feel like I should hug you...?" You began. Marcus cracked a small smile. "That's alright." Marcus stood up and you met him half way.  The room was quiet, even after you both separated. 

You moved into the kitchen to refill your glass of water when you jumped. Alec was so quiet you had no clue he was even in there. "You scared me!" You laughed, a hand going to your chest. "Sorry." Alec felt a pang in his chest, remembering how tried to apologise to him and he completely rejected you. This time you were apologizing for nothing. In your eyes, you had apologised to a complete stranger and that broke Alec's heart. He wished he could turn back time, assure you that you were forgiven, that you'd always be his friend. He missed that chance, you got so good at your own gift you figured out a way to use it on yourself. "Alec, yeah?" You asked. Alec nodded. "I'm getting better at names." You smirked, pleased with yourself. "The human in Marcus' story was your friend right?" You asked nonchalantly as you filled your glass. "Yes." Alec responded. "Can I ask you something?" You turned, now with a full glass with a small smile on your face. Alec knew that smile well that you had sent him. It was the polite smile you wore to anyone you didn't know. In the hopes that it would cover up how nervous you actually are about meeting new people. "Yes." Alec said again, not entirely ready for the question but whatever it was, it meant you'd stay in the conversation. For all he knew, that last conversation he'd have with you. "Were they nice? Your friend?" You might as well have stabbed him in the chest in that moment. Alec did his best to hide it. "They were wonderful. The best friend I could have ever had." Alec responded. You slowly nodded, contemplating his answer. "That's nice. Anyway, I won't bother you anymore." You smiled, raising your glass. "See you around." You turned and walked out the room without even a second glance. Leaving Alec standing in the kitchen, alone once again. Jane moved passed (Y/N), casting them a quick look before entering the kitchen towards her brother. She said nothing as Alec looked at her. For what could she honestly say? "They forgot me." Alec said quietly.

[idkcantthinkofaname]

It Takes Time/ 17

Pairing: BTS x Reader (ft. Ateez)

Gene: angst, smut(certain chapters), Dark themes (in certain parts)

Warning: slight blood mention but nothing else really

Summary: after finally getting the house y/n always wanted, she find a hybrid hiding in an old shed. Unlike most people who find strays, y/n doesn’t turn him into h.c mainly because there was a lot of shady things that happened with the hybrid control in the area.

Prev

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Jungkook was laid up against the floor of the truck, his eyes peaked at her. He could see blood on the side of her face. He was slightly beat up as well, though he knew the impact was coming long before the drivers of the truck knew. He had all his senses on alert the moment he heard her truck tire squalled against the asphalt. At first he assumed she was just going to leave, But he notice the sound was coming in close and fast. He remained as still as he could to not alert the other two guards that were in the back with him, what was to come. At the last second he jump off the seat, and was in the air the moment the impacted happen. The guards distracted by him had been thrown across the truck as it rolled. Jungkook tried to keep himself for too much injuries but with how hard she hit them, and his hands being hand cuffed together. He wasn’t as successful as he wish he had been. After the truck came to final stop he was laying on the wall trying to get his barring, the two guards were unmoving. As he got up slowly he went to each searching for the keys to unlock him. Once he was uncuffed he looked up and took a deep breath. Everything in him was screaming to shift into his wolf, but he knew it would be to painful to do so.

“Hand me the keys!” Y/n voice was trying to sound so strong. He had heard her struggle with the guy. He still couldn’t believe that she was still trying to help him. She should have left him. She didn’t make any sense to him, or the fact that he slightly liked that she was still here to help him.

The door swung open and the street lights was filtering in. “Jungkook?”

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My voice was soft and uncertain, he was leaned up against what should have been the floor of the truck. I climbed into the truck to go to him.

“You just had to hit us with a truck?” Jungkook asked.

“I didn’t know what else to do...I couldn’t let them take you.”

Jungkook looked up at me. “We have to get out of here.”

Jungkook walked forward and gripped my wrist and started to pull me off towards the woods. “Jungkook what abou..”

“Listen we just have to get out of here. Don’t worry about the truck.”

“but?”

“just keep moving, Trust me, the other group of h.c will show up before the cops do and we don't want to be around when they do.”

We had been walking in silence for over an hour.. or what felt like an hour. “Jungkook you need to rest, and so do I.”

Jungkook’s tail stiffen. “I am fine.”

“You may be but I need a moment” My head was still pounding from the wreck. and My arm was still bleeding slightly.

A hefty sigh left  his lips “Five minutes, that is all you get. I’m sure the boys are already worried sick about you, And I know the H.c is most likely still looking for us.”

"What do we have here?” Said a light voice. I jumped up and Looked towards the bushes where the voice sounded from. Jungkook growled and stepped forward and placed himself between the new person. 

A giggle came from the left of us. “Looks like we have some trespasser San.” A fox hybrid was perched on a tree stump. His red black tipped ears stood tall. “Hongjoong will not like this.” 

Another hybird approached from the right side. “What should we do then, dear Wooyoung?” He smirked. His white and black spotted tail twitched at the end. He was slightly shorter then Jungkook but almost as broad. especially when he puffed his chest up. 

Jungkook tail was puffed out and he stood taller then he was a second ago. “We are just passing through.” 

The fox, Wooyoung smiled. “Well, we don't like other coming into our territory.”

Jungkook growled more. Wooyoung cocked his head to the side and his tail was swaying much like when tae and jimin’s would when they were about to start pushing the others buttons.  

“Wooyoung! That is enough!” Out stepped three more hybrids, two were staring down the fox. His ears laid back against his head. 

“I apologize for wooyoung behavior.” One of the taller ones spoke, He was looking at us threw silted eyes...A snake hybrid.

The other tall one standing next to him was staring wide eyes at the two of us. He was the tallest and had bear like ears on the top of his head.  The shorter of them stepped forward. “What are you doing in our territory?”

Jungkook growled again. He stepped forward. “when did you move here?

Hongjoong stared at him. “just before the winter storms that hit here...You must be one of the hybrids who scent was here before us.”

Jungkook’s fist cliched. “Yes I am, Now why would you move here if you could scent us?”

Hongjoong just shrugged his shoulders. “Well since you guys never showed up to run us off, we assume you did not care for this land. So we made ourselves at home.”

Jungkook stepped forward, but the short man meet his approach. “I would think twice there Pup. You are out numbered.” He smirked. “and one bite from Seongwha and you will be dead within minutes.” 

I was right, He was a snake. "Jungkook we need to get home before the H.C finds us.”

This made Hongjoong cat like ears twice. He looked at the both of us. “Go, If they come looking for you we don't want to be in the middle of it.” he stepped back and started to walk off the others following him. 

Jungkook was shaking with anger. I placed my hand onto his arm. “Deal with this later.”

He whipped around with so much speed that I almost lost my footing. He was breathing heavy and there was so much fire in his eyes. He stepped closer to me and before I could even realize what happened he wrapped his arms around my waist and shoved his head into my neck. He let out a growl and pressed harder into my neck. I just stood there and allowed him to do as he pleased. After some time he seemed to relax some and he stood up and gripped my hand. “Let’s get home.”

We may had made it a few more yards before I started to get dizzy. “Jungkook” I almost lost my footing as I went down, Hearing Jungkook shout my name. I could feel that he had caught me but my vision was going black.

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Jungkook was scared, He was actually scared for her. She just dropped. He was and idiot not to even think about the damage she might have after wrecking the truck to save him. He held her close as he ran with her in his arms. He needed to get her to Jin as fast as he can.

He was gripping her tightly to him. Her head laid back almost lifeless, if it wasn't for her heart beating he would have thought she was dead. 

“JUNGKOOK!” The sound of Namjoon was like music to his ears

“Namjoon here! she is hurt! I don't know what to do!” Jungkook was still holding her tightly to him when namjoon and the others got to him. 

“Let me see her” Namjoon asked holding out his arms. But jungkook refused to let her go.

“No, I will carry her. She is like this cause she came to save me.” Namjoon looked jungkook over then nodded as they all hurried back towards the house. Jin and Hobi sprinted off to get to the house to set up everything they would need to help y/n

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Next

Note: I think, im going to put this on pause for a while only to take my time and write this story the way I like it. and I can post them quicker after I have a few of them written. I am not happy with some of these chapters.

Tag list

@beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @ghostkat23 @jiminslye @4evahevah @vantaescupid @calling-dips-on-j-hope @jennyjq @purplelady85 @sana-b @deeepvibes @purelyecstacy @peachyjk97 @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @j3ngkoo @unicornbabylover @yourlipssoirresistible @shileh @sometingreallycool  @beeeb05 @fanoffandomss @ambersaesthetics @ ego-allie-bap

[megalony]

Teacher’s Pet- Part 14

Here is the next part in my dad! Ben Hardy series which I hope you will all like, the feedback for this series has been lovely so far and I know a lot of people are rooting for the baby to be a girl so we will find out soon.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogermeddow​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish​​​ @gwilymleeisbae​​​​ @k-k0129​​​​​ @haileymorelikestupid​​​​ @glittrixvibe​​​​ @youngpastafanmug​ @ultraviolencezs​

Series masterlist

Summary: Gwilym sets Ben up on a date with (Y/n) who teaches at the school Ben’s kids go to. But Ben is hesitant in the relationship, desperate not to make the same mistakes and needing to put his kids first.

Enjoy.

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"I know you're not asleep." The tone of Ben's voice told Carter the expression he just knew would be on his dad's face. He didn't have to open his eyes and look over at Ben to know his brows would be raised and and his head would be tilted at an angle. He didn't sound angry but he didn't sound pleased either and Carter couldn't expect anything else.

The moment Ben had brought him back from a two hour drive last night, he had been told to go straight to his room. He ate dinner in his room to be out the way of everyone else and he didn't get to see (Y/n) before lights out and he had to try and go to sleep.

It was very clear to Carter that he had done something very bad yesterday because of the way Ben acted around him. He was only ever cold and uninterested around Carter when he was trying to teach him a lesson for doing something wrong. Ben wasn't letting him act out in such a bad way and then expect everything to be fine afterwards.

Ben checked on Carter when it was time for him to go to bed and then a few times during the night but the eldest boy hadn't had one hour of sleep last night. For the first half of the night Carter was restless, throwing himself around the bed and then Ben heard him a few times getting angry and unsettled. But after two o'clock he just seemed to quieten down but he hadn't slept, it was very clear he had been too unsettled to sleep. Ben hadn't expected anything else, he was sure that Carter wouldn't get any sleep tonight either considering the outburst he had yesterday and the emotions he was now going through.

Holding his breath deep in his lungs, Carter very slowly and timidly peeled the cover from over his head until his eyes and nose were visible and he tiredly opened his eyes to look over at Ben. Even though a lot of the time he never slept, Carter still closed his eyes for most of the night because his eyes got tired. He didn't get to sleep but he got to rest his eyes and drown in his thoughts for hours on end.

He looked up at Ben who was sat on the middle of the bed with his back pressed up against the wall and his feet hanging off the side of the bed. Carter reached his hand out of the cover to try and indicate that he wanted the cup of coffee in Ben's hand but Ben shook his head and brought the rim of the mug to his lips. There was no way he was letting Carter be dosed up on caffeine this early in the morning.

"Are we getting up?"

"Soon, I want to talk to you first." Ben moved his free hand to gently rest Carter's legs over his lap to stop him from laying curled up like he was. He rubbed his hand over Carter's ankles for a moment, trying to make sure he didn't look scared or angry and check he seemed okay.

"Is it about mum?" Carter's voice was quiet but he wasn't angry or scared or unsettled. The look in his eyes showed he clearly felt guilty for what happened yesterday but he seemed like he would be fine talking about it.

"Yeah it is because we can't have a repeat of yesterday."

"I didn't mean to I swear. I didn't mean to hurt mum and you said she wasn't mad at me- she's not mad, is she?"

The way Ben kept rubbing his hand over Carter's ankle calmed him down enough to know that Ben was no longer mad at him and that (Y/n) couldn't be mad either or Ben wouldn't be so calm around him right now. Carter pulled the pillow tighter under his head until it felt like the pillow was going to swallow him up and he kept his eyes focused solely on Ben. He felt calm enough and more at ease now to be able to look Ben in the eye unlike last night.

"No she's not mad at you buddy, your mum knows you didn't mean it but that doesn't mean I wasn't mad at you. You were really rude and hurtful to her with what you said, you know you can't say things like that to people, and then you hit her too."

"I didn't mean it-"

"Carter... buddy, please try and listen to me now."

Ben put his drink down before he leaned over and gently pulled Carter until he was sitting up next to Ben, his legs still strewn over Ben's lap. He needed Carter to try his best to listen and understand to what he was saying because Carter had to understand. He had to know being rude and intentionally spiteful with his words wasn't okay and lashing out was never acceptable, especially not with (Y/n) or the boys.

"Me and your mum know you can't help it when you get upset but you have to try and think before you lash out. Your mum's having a baby now, if you hit her near her tummy or you push her and she falls, the baby can get hurt too and I know you wouldn't want that to happen. I don't care if you hit or push or bite me but I mean it when I say you can not do that to your mum, especially not now she's pregnant."

He didn't know how else to word it so that Carter would understand how wrong it would be if he physically hurt (Y/n). Carter wouldn't put the pieces together that hurting (Y/n) hurt the baby unless he hurt (Y/n) and the baby was hurt or everyone suddenly became scared that the baby would be hurt. If Ben could drill it into Carter's head now that he couldn't act like that then hopefully if he did get angry again then it wouldn't be directed towards (Y/n).

"Do you understand what I mean?"

"I can't lash out at mum cause it might hurt the baby in her tummy... I- I don't like you and mum having a baby, but I don't want to hurt the baby either."

As much as it irritated and unsettled Carter to know Ben and (Y/n) were having a baby that he didn't want them to have, he also didn't want to hurt the baby. He wouldn't want to be the reason they lost or didn't have the baby because it would make him feel guilty beyond belief. He remembered when Lucy was pregnant with Finn, Ben had told him about the baby growing in her stomach and being careful around her. He wouldn't want to hurt (Y/n), ever, and he wouldn't want to hurt the baby either.

"I know you don't buddy, but no one is mad at you anymore it's okay now."

"Can I see mum now?" Carter had come close to having another tantrum last night when Ben told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't seeing (Y/n) until morning because he was still unsettled. It was both for safety and to teach Carter that he couldn't do that and expect things to be okay. But he did want to see her, he felt bad and he wanted to say sorry and make sure she was okay with him.

"She's gonna come and talk to you in a minute, I'll see you downstairs. Remember to say sorry." Ben kissed the top of Carter's head and wrapped him up in a hug for a minute or so before he slowly unravelled from his son and left the room.

Carter kept the covers wrapped around him like he was a butterfly trying to break free from his cocoon. He pulled his knees up to his chest but the moment (Y/n) entered the room and sat down on the bed he struggled to untangle himself from the cover. The moment he broke free he scuttled over until he was almost sitting on (Y/n)'s lap with his arms around her neck, his face buried in her shoulder and his front pressed against her own.

"I'm sorry... dad said I was rude and cruel but I didn't mean it and I didn't mean to hit you, dad said I could hurt the baby if I do it again."

(Y/n) could tell that there was a big part of Carter that was expecting her to push him away from her or shout at him or glare and be annoyed with him, but she wasn't. She knew he couldn't help the way he reacted and he was so desperate to be loved that he was afraid a baby would take that love and attention away from him.

She understood why he reacted how he did and (Y/n) knew he was spiteful because it was how he thought he should react to show them just how hurt he felt. As for hitting her, that was just part of his anger that he needed to learn how to control.

"I know you didn't mean what you said, honey, it's okay. But your dad acted the way he did because he was worried. The baby's fine so you don't have to be upset anymore, we just don't want you getting that upset again."

(Y/n) knew that Ben reacted with more anger and fire than she did but it was just how they were. She had the patience when it came to Carter but Ben didn't because Ben had spent all of Carter's life trying to curb his anger issues and his attitude but he ran out of patience when Carter acted out badly like last night. If Carter hurt (Y/n) or one of the boys Ben couldn't help but get annoyed with him, but when Carter was up all night Ben had all the patience in the world to sit and hold him or calm him down from a tantrum.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"No baby, I'm not mad. But I need you to understand that I am your mum even if I have a baby with your dad. You're my eldest boy, just like with your dad, he hasn't replaced you with James or Finn or with this baby and neither will I."

"But it will be your baby."

"Yeah, and I want a baby with your dad but that doesn't mean I don't want you too. Your dad loves all of you equally and that makes him your dad, if he can do that then I can love you all just the same as I can love a baby. Honey, I have no reason whatsoever to replace you because I love everything about you. I love how you look like your dad, how you're almost as tall as me, I love that you try and look after your brothers and you help and respect your dad. I love how you let me be your mum, I think you're perfect and I wouldn't have you any other way."

(Y/n) slowly tangled her fingers into Carter's hair and started to sway them side to side when she felt him sniffing into her shoulder to try and stop himself from crying.

Someone other than Ben truly loved him and wasn't getting angry with him or annoyed at how he reacted or what he said and did. She didn't want to change how he could make her uncomfortable with eye contact or how he spoke or acted in certain situations. She wasn't even annoyed by his uncontrollable temper.

(Y/n) loved him and would never replace him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When will the baby be here?"

(Y/n) turned her head to look over at James who was sat next to her on the sofa on her right. He had his head leaning against her arm and his eyes focusing up on (Y/n) rather than on the book in her hands. James preferred having a story read to him either by Ben or (Y/n) or by listening to an audio book because it was easier than reading which gave him a headache after a while.

"Not for five months or so, honey. Why, are you excited?" (Y/n) looked down at James with a smile when he nodded his head but seemed rather deflated that he would have to wait a while. He was only three when Finn was born so he wouldn't remember or understand that it took around about nine months to have the baby if things went smoothly. The waiting game was good for Ben and (Y/n) because it gave them time to prepare but it wasn't so good for the boys because they didn't have a lot of patience and waiting wasn't what they typically liked to do.

"Yeah! Will it be another boy?"

Pressing her lips together, (Y/n) set down the book on the coffee table which she knew was going to be long-forgotten now they were having this conversation.

"I don't know, me and your dad don't get to choose sweetheart. It might be a boy, but it could be a girl."

"So, it's a surprise?"

"Exactly. Do you want it to be a boy?" (Y/n)'s words seemed to catch Finn's attention for the youngest boy put down the game controller in his hand and spun round on the floor so he could face (Y/n) and his brother. He didn't have the courage to speak up about this topic but it was one he wanted to listen to all the same.

Finn shyly moved over to the sofa when (Y/n) beckoned him to sit with them when she noticed he was watching intently. He sat down on (Y/n)'s other side and very timidly shuffled closer until their arms were very lightly brushing against one another. Close contact was something Finn didn't like with anyone but Ben and his brothers but he was slowly becoming more and more comfortable around (Y/n) enough that he could have her hug him or hold his hand.

Neither Ben nor (Y/n) knew how he would be with a new sibling. Finn was so at ease around Carter and James because they were older than him and he saw them as his protectors just like Ben. They looked out for him and they helped him, even though Carter did get angry around him Finn knew it wasn't always on purpose and Carter did generally look out for him. A younger sibling meant someone that Finn might have to look out for and protect and he didn't feel like he could protect himself. But he may be fine and happy with a younger sibling to play with and teach.

"I don't mind, a sister might be nice though... dad always says he's overpowered by boys." It always stuck in James' mind when Ben commented that he had a house full of boys or he was overruled by his sons. But James always had the picture in his head of Ben as a dad to the boys, the monsters as Ben referred to them. Ben with a little girl would change that image.

"No, daddy said he's the boss." Finn leaned to look across at James before he cautiously looked up at (Y/n).

In Finn's mind Ben was the boss, he was in charge, he took care of them and loved them and when he argued with Carter he was always the overpowering one. When Ben said he was the boss it fit the image Finn had of him as his protector as well as his dad.

"He is the boss, don't worry. What about you, do you think a sister might be nice?"

"Boy. Daddy always has boys, it's his superpower." Finn shook his head when the point of a sister was brought up. He didn't want a sister, it wouldn't be right because he had brothers and Ben just had boys. Ben used to say that his superpower was having boys and that they were his world. If he had a girl it didn't feel like it would settle very well, Finn couldn't imagine Ben having a daughter after having three boys. He couldn't see himself with a sister and he certainly couldn't see Carter having a sister.

Carter got angry, what if he got angry around a baby girl and frightened her?

"We might be having a boy, but if we do have a girl then it just means your dad's superpower is upgraded."

"Why is the baby in there?" Finn's voice was quiet but his eyes were full of curiosity as he very cautiously moved his hand to tap gently against (Y/n)'s stomach to emphasise his point. He was only four so there was no way they could expect Finn to understand why the baby had to grow in (Y/n)'s stomach but it didn't make it any easier to come up with a reason that he would understand.

"This is just where baby's grow and develop, honey. Then in a few months they'll be ready to meet you."

"Did daddy put baby there?" Finn kept lightly smoothing and tapping his hand on (Y/n)'s stomach but he stopped and squealed when he suddenly felt a pair of hands sneak under his arms and pick him up. Ben leaned over the back of the sofa and hoisted Finn effortlessly into the air, holding him against his chest as he tickled him.

"You bet I did, that's my superpower. I've put a movie on up in our room, you two gonna go watch it for a bit while I talk to your mum?"

Ben set Finn gently down to his feet, his eyes following both boys as they scuttled upstairs. They knew it was getting close to their bedtime but watching a movie in Ben and (Y/n)'s room got them calm and settled ready to sleep. When he knew they were upstairs and out of earshot Ben moved round the sofa and sat down next to (Y/n) with a smile that made her stomach flutter.

"I want to talk to you about something but I don't want the boys listening." Ben darted his eyes up to indicate that he had asked the boys to go upstairs so they could talk. His soft smile and vibrant green eyes told (Y/n) that it wasn't anything worrying or bad or upsetting but it was clearly something that the boys shouldn't be listening to and that made her intrigued.

"What's up?"

"I've been thinking about when we have the baby, and I know you're not even fully moved in with us yet... but I was thinking we could look for a new house, a place of our own?"

Ben clasped his hands together in front of him and leaned his arms on his knees like he was about to hunch over in his usual stance. Since the moment (Y/n) told him she thought she might be pregnant nothing else had been on his mind but this baby and now it was set in stone he knew he wasn't going to be thinking of anything else.

"R-really?" A swarm of butterflies raged through (Y/n)'s chest that made her feel like she was breathless. She hadn't ever been so invested in a relationship where they bought a house together, but then again (Y/n) had never been in a relationship where she gained three lovely children and was now pregnant. But a place of their own sounded like something from a dream, it could be somewhere they picked out and decorated and somewhere the boys loved and felt comfortable and safe.

"Yeah, I mean, I bought this place after the court case with Lucy went through two years ago but it was never meant to be permanent. And the sleeping arrangements will have to change anyway. James and Finn can't share a room with a newborn and Carter can't share with anyone so we need another room."

Ben picked this house because he had to move Finn out of the house that held the bad memories for him. He had only been two at the time but keeping him in that house was something Ben couldn't put him through in case it made his nightmares and anxiety worse. But he didn't expect this to be a forever home, it was temporary until they all got settled and things worked out but Ben never ended up having the time to think about moving again until now.

But when the baby was born this house couldn't be permanent for them. There were three rooms in total and with three kids that was fine, James and Finn shared a room which made Finn feel more secure and safe, Ben and (Y/n) had a room and Carter had the box room to himself. He couldn't share with his brothers in case he had an outburst and he certainly couldn't share with a newborn. It wouldn't be the best idea for (Y/n) and Ben to have to share with the baby either, they would all be cramped together like sardines.

"I think it sounds great... but will the boys take it well?"

"Finn will need time to adjust and Carter will have a meltdown because of the change but it wasn't too bad with him last time. Since you're moving with us too and they all know they won't have to share with a baby I think it will be a lot smoother."

Finn had to get used to a new environment and make sure it felt safe and secure to him but it had been very easy when they moved into this house. And with everyone moving too and him staying at the same pre-school Ben knew he would be okay. It was Carter that he was worried about because the change wouldn't work well with him. But they were moving with (Y/n), she would be there with them and making the house their own so Carter wouldn't be half as bad with her there. (Y/n) was able to calm him down and help him with his anger better than anyone else, the move wouldn't be bad if she was there.

If they moved they could find somewhere with enough space for the six of them and somewhere that truly felt like a home to them.

Somewhere for their family.

[afterthelastreset]

Rules Of One’s Soul Ch18 Date P2

(mak belongs to @wasted-church )

The usual blurs of red and pink swirled around and the halls and into the minds of the common and wealthy around the dark world. Infecting their very consciousness on the drunken ecstacy of love so would it seem. The pheromones of roses and fine chocolates seemed endless wafing through the air as an endless stream of love poisoning. It was the grand reason for this very holiday.

Love.

Love can be a powerful thing can it not? He's seen people go to war for the ones they loved. He's seen people do terrible, horrible things in the name of love. It's a powerful emotion. So powerful they had a king named after it after all. But it wasn't just bad things. Good things came from it as well. He'd happily smile at the many happy couples and happy laughter of children running around throwing paper hearts at one another along the halls or happy squeals from the occasional hathy when they receive a love letter or confession from their lovers. It was a beautiful sight he wouldn't deny, but perhaps it might've been a bit much for him sometimes. But on the other hand-

He flipped his hair back and looked back into his mirror. Who could deny his looks? He was rather good looking compared to all the other darkners. Who else had flowing white glowing hair that delicately draped around his perfect eyes and fluttering lashes? Who else could say they had many admires willing to buy something they don't need just to be near him?....Perhaps King Diamonds, but respectfully he was a marvel in his own way. His scales usually sparkled brightly and being the richest of the four kings of course meant he'd have a fair amount of suitors himself hoping to get a piece of his riches and royal status. But the king couldn't compare to the likes of him in other ways. He didn't have the charm or grace he posessed surely. He didn't have the charisma or confidence, or the romantical know-how to woo the lady of his dreams.~ And he had chosen the perfect one to court. Sure. There a few.....difficulties.

One being that she was already courted and dare say.....already married to someone. In technicality he had already lost before he even began, which should've been enough of a red flag for him to stop while he was ahead. To stop himself from doing something stupid- But we all know how the saying goes.

Love is blind.

He had to tell her. Even if she never returned his affections. He could live with the rejection, but he couldn't just keep his emotions about this whole thing up any longer.

Her surprised face when he turned up with an assortment of roses he knew she would like. Smile on his features....A frown on her face and worry in her voice.

"Rouxls. You have to stop this. You don't understand what this could do. Do you understand me?"

"Rouxls?"

"ROUXLS KAARD!! YOU TRAITOROUS SCUM!!"

****************************************************************************

"Rouxls, Rouxls?"

The worm made a yelp sound and dropped what he had been previously holding. He fell backwards onto his rear and balls of yarn bounced near his feet before going to a stop. His lungs heaved in and out sucking in that sweet air and his eyes blinked blankly at nothing in particular- He flinched and snapped his head up when a hand gently gripped his shoulder, meeting the eyes of a concerned floating purple man who blinked back in confusion.

"Are you alright, alright?"

"W...Wha-," was all he could get out in his confused stupor.

"You looked frightened, frightened?" His head tilted to the side and blinked. "Like Lancer when his nightlight went out. Are you alright, alright?"

He froze when Rouxls pulled his shoulder away from him and averted his eyes. "I-...I willst best f-fine....Nothing that hasn't happened before."

Jevil's eyebrows rose. Nothing that hasn't happened before? Does he just freeze up every time someone asks him on a date? A pit of guilt suddenly made itself present in his stomach and his eyes widened in a sudden thought. Did-...Did he do something wrong? No, no. He couldn't have! He followed the steps Seam had told him to follow during their little truce. Professional, polite, helpful- Didn't he do everything right? ..Did those little remarks during candy picking sent him the wrong impression? Rouxls slowly shifted getting Jevil's attention directed back towards him. The worm slowly reached a hand out and shakily grabbed onto the counter the register sat upon, Jevil reached his hands out as if to help, but a blue hand was held up to stop him. Rouxls took a shaky breath in and released it slowly with a shudder, carefully pulling himself up to his feet. His legs felt like jello and he worried he might fall over again, but he put on a stern brave face and forced himself to stay still. He remained silent for a moment. ...Hands on the counter. Eyes closed. And taking a few deep breaths. Jevil watched it all with a very confused look....What was that all about?

Rouxls tilted his head down towards his feet silently, catching the attention of the floating clown. Staring at the few balls of yarn that he had dropped. Ever so silently, he slowly turned his body and reached down to pick up the wool strands off the floor. ".....I-" Jevil flinched at the eerily calm voice of the worm. Didn't he just have a scare a few moments ago? "-apologize for mine rude reaction. I amst usually not l-likest that around ....c-coworkers."

Jevil tilted his head. Coworkers? ....Oh. Lancer did give him his royal title of Court Jester back, he guessed that did make them coworkers. But wait. ....Did that mean that-? His stomach instantly dropped when the thought hit him. Did Rouxls not see him as anything but another co-worker? Is that why he never...returned his own affection because he saw their relationship as nothing but 'professional'?! Is THAT why he was so angry all the time? Because he always saw it as 'unprofessional behavior'?! His ears dropped as he looked back to the worm who had stood back up. He gave the yarn a tired look before turning back to the counter and setting them within their proper place silently.

"....Rouxls,Rouxls?"

He paused. "Yes, Jevil?

Rouxls gave a small look over his shoulder to address his attention to Jevil, who smiled weakly at him. "Um.....Did you hear , hear my question?...Question."

A pause-

Rouxls sighed. The kind of sigh that sounded tired and done. "Yes. Yes, Jevil. I did."

He gulped. "And...what does the Duke, Duke think?"

Silence.

".....I-" He looked back towards the counter. "I..think now may be a...n-not so good time to do anythinge of the sort. I-...I amst sor-"

He stopped when he felt something latch onto him. Freezing up on instinct. Soul starting to thump hard against his chest, something curled into his back and something muscular coiled his upper arm from behind. His body reacted in his pupils shrinking and his ears drooping....Something pressed into the back on his shoulder and..he slowly turned his head-

Jevil was- ....He was- Soul thumping hard- A flushed feeling washing over him. As Jevil....hugged(??) him. Well...maybe hugging. He was looking at him with a uncertain expression and his arm were around his upper back and tail found it's way around his upper left arm. The two stared at each other for a moment before Jevil cleared his throat.

"It...Looked like you could use a hug,hug." He dared to give a uncertain smile. "The young prince told me of your sadness, sadness....He told me a hug, hug always made you feel better."

Rouxls just stared at Jevil for a long moment. Just staring silently. Jevil's smile slightly faded, had he had something wrong, maybe he shouldn't have done this. But upon questioning the young boy about his father's habits, he said he always loved his hugs. Didn't he enjoy them from his destined soulmate too? "Heh" Jevil's train of thought was derailed when he heard that one small chuckle escape from the Duke's lips. Followed by another...And another- The duke chuckled to him self and shook his head, laying his upper body onto the counter by this elbows. A...smile on his face. And not the nervous kind!

"Thou art a funny man, Jevil." Another chuckle escaped from his mouth and one of his hands came up to rub over his face and push some of that snowy white hair away from his forehead. "I nay believe I'll ever understand thee but thou art a....undeterred little worm."

"...Does this mean Im forgiven, f-forgiven?" He took his face from his hands and turned to give Jevil that smile. The jester's soul thumped harder when he gave what he finally wanted.

A smile of true happiness.

"I supposeth so. Considering thou willst be more considerate to mine....p-personal pereferences?" Jevil was too eagerly to nod his head yes against Rouxls's shoulder, settling down into his space perched upon him and letting out a content purr sound. ..Which made the duke do a double take- The fool could PURR?! "...Art thou going to just stayest there for the rest of thine day?"

Jevil hummed cracking an eye open at him. "It depends, depends. Maybe I can be convinced to go somewhere else, else if my previous question is answered, answered."

A look of confusion is what he got. Question? WHat questi- Oh. ...Right. The thought of going on a date with anyone was enough to make him tired, but ...with Jevil? Well he guessed he should've seen it coming. Rouxls's had suspected Jevil had wanted to ask him to the ball from the very beginning, but a wrench was from into the works when Seam beat him to it-...Wait. Did that mean that Seam tricked him into inviting him?! That sneaking old cat! Oh he would definitely be having a talk with Seam later about this whole thing, but right now he had another thing to worry about. And the question that needs answering is....Would he do that?

One look in the jester's hopeful bright eyes and wagging end of his tail, compiled with the thrumming purring coming from his throat and nuzzling into his shoulder- ....His soul gave a throb and without a second of self control he gave possibly the greatest or worst answer he could have given.

"Yes."

He froze. There it was. All out without his control. Jevil on the other hand gasped, his mouth wide open, eyes widening until they looked like two golden coins against the black of the whites of his eyes. Before contorting his mouth into a happy smile, a happy whine escaping his throat, the end of his tail thumped relentlessly against part of his arm. By the way Jevil stared at him, you would think he just agreed to marry the fool. His smile became wider. Mind racing with: Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap-

Ding!

The front door suddenly flew open and standing in the doorway was a common rudinn guard, he gave the two a confused look and they just stared back awkwardly. After a few seconds, Rouxls cleared his throat and gave the rudinn one of his signature smiles as a greeting.

"Greetings! I amst sorry but mine shop tis closed for restock and repairs. Funny that didst not deter thee.~ " He gave a small wink to the random guard who flushed a light green and stutter a small 'uh' to the Duke's flirtacious words. Jevil however gave them his own jealous filled glare. "Art thou one of mine admirers, Worm?~ ...ACK-"

Jevil climbed higher onto Rouxls shoulder and gave a hug that pressed both their cheeks together. "Hehehe. Im your admirer, admirer.~"

Rouxls gave a strained smile and cleared his throat again. "Thank thee Jevil, but I do believe this is unprofessional in front of mine dear customers." His voice sounded slightly irritated.

"Oh. But where's the fun, fun in that?"

Rouxls opened his mouth to speak, but that was cut short when he felt Jevil not so secretly place a kiss to his neck near his jaw line, staring at the Rudinn, who already looked weirded out enough as it was and only felt weirded, with a jealous narrowed glare. As if to dare the newcomer to just try something sneeky. ..What really resulted was the duke giving a high pitched girly squeal and a hand flying up to push the invader's face away from his. Jevil giggled at the new game of keep away and turned his face into the blue hand that was pushing his cheek and giving it a small peck. ROuxls gave an undignified yelp and pulled his hand away with a light blue already spreading across his face.

"Jevil you...you...SNAIL!," he yelled in a squeaky high pitched voice.

The Rudinn slowly slithered backwards out of the shop, the two arguing among themselves, they didn't notice the sound of the bell jingling or the sound of the door closing.

[leelee10898]

Fast cars & Freedom: Cant help falling in love (8/?) Part 2.

Here it is.. part 2 of chapter 8... is that really Logans mom? How does Ellies dad react to the news she is married to Colt??? You can catch up HERE. And as always, if you want to be added to the tags, drop me a line.

Pairing: Logan x Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Rating: Mature

Song inspiration:

“Riya! Damnit.” Ellie gasped, Riya instantly cupping her mouth. Ellie Stood making her way over to her father.

Colt stood behind Logan,  schock written all over his face at the series of events. Riya just announced to everyone that He and Ellie were married. Her father being an ex cop, was probably about to kill him, sure he had a gun or two, or three laying around. And did Logan just say Mom?

Logan stood there, completely stunned, baked beans covering his shoes.  Was he imagining things? Because the woman standing there next to Ellie's dad looked an awful lot like his mother.  He remembered seeing her when the foster parents would bring him to the jail to visit. That all changed when he got sent to live with a shitty set and he ran away, never looking back.

“Logan? Logan is that you?” Sally spoke, tears in her eyes.

Frank looked between the two, dumbfounded. Of all the women in the world he would fall for, he had to pick the one who was possibly the father of his grandchild, and an ex criminal. His eyes darted past Logan and locked right onto Colt, who stood frozen in place. “You!” He seethed, Pointing a finger at him. “Oh shit.” Colt quickly placed the pan he was holding down on the table and took off into the house.

“Oh no you dont, get back here.” Frank took off running after him, coleslaw dripping from his pants. “Dad, wait.” Ellie followed the two into the house. “Dad, just wait. You don't understand.” He froze in place “what don't I understand? How you ended up married to him,” He pointed to Colt who stood at the door. “Because that I don't understand.  How did this happen? When did this happen?”

“6 years ago. In vegas.” Her dad's eyes went wide. “iIt was the night before, well everything went down with the brotherhood.” Her dad slumped down on the couch, the feelings of that time crashing down on him. “She asked for an annulment Mr Martin. This isn't Ellies fault, I didn't file it. If you want to blame anyone, blame me, not her.” Colt stepped forward, his eyes locked on hers.

Her dad let out a long sigh “Well, at least if He's Lucas father, you'll be married.” Ellie closed her eyes “I'm filing for divorce.” Her dads face reddened. “Colt,  why don't you go outside and help out. I need a word with my daughter.” Colt hesitated, waiting for her command. She was his queen, she would always be his queen no matter what, and he would do anything she asked of him, but he wouldn't willingly divorce her. “Go ahead colt.”  He nodded walking back out to the back yard, leaving Ellie and her dad to have a serious discussion.

Logan blinked, stunned. “What. How did you.” He couldn't form the words.  

“Logan, I have been looking for you ever since i got out of jail.” Colt stopped immediately, backing up a pace to hear what was going on. “Oh really? And when was that? Because it seems you haven't done a great job of it.” Logan stood arms folded.  “well, there wasn't much of a trail to follow, you stayed pretty well hidden. The last bit of information I got you were in California, so I came out here.” Logan stared at her, still in Shock that his mother was there. “Can we talk? Please Logan, you have no idea how long I have been waiting to see you.” Logan nodded and the two walked off alone.  

Colt looked over to where toby and Luca were sitting at the kiddie pool, he walked over “Hey squirt, why the long face?”  “Is grampy mad at you?” she sniffled. “No, he's not mad at me sweetie. Everything is ok.” he assured her. “Hey Colt, um aunt Riya said you and mommy are married. Does that mean you're my daddy?”

"Eliana Renne Martin, what the hell do you mean you're filing for divorce?" Frank shouted. "Dad, calm down." "I thought you would be more mad at the fact Ive been married for 6 years and didn't tell you."

"Dont rock the boat Ellie. What is your reasoning for divorcing? Our family does not divorce, trust me it would have been easier to divorce your mother when she got bad, but I didnt did I?"

"No. You didnt. I just, dad we were 18 and 19, we were young and uncertain if we would be in jail or dead." Her father shutteres at the memory.

"I cant talk to you about this. I think youre makimg a huge mistake, but youre my daughter and I love you. Just please, please think about it."

Colt stood there in Shock,  not sure how to handle or answer it. He was relieved when he seen Ellie come out of the house, luckily she was headed right for them. “What's going on?” She noticed the uncertain look on Colts face. “Someone heard the announcement, and has a question.” Ellie looked down at her daughter “Mommy, if you're married to Colt, does that mean he's my daddy?” Her eyes went wide, she looked between the two,she had no idea how to answer without generating a lot more questions. “Well, sweetie i'm not sure. But how about, how about you go to see what grampy is doing ok?” Luca nodded and walked away, they look on her face told her this wasn't the last she would hear about it.

“Im sorry el, She just came out of nowhere. I didn't know what to say.” Colt ran his hand over his face. “Its ok. I didn't either. Lets just hope we get these results back soon. So we know for sure.”  Ellie looked over at Logan sitting by himself, a beer in hand. “I should probably go check in on him.” Colt nodded as she walked away.

“Mind some company?” He looked up, and patted the seat next to him. “So. I guess you heard my mom is dating your dad.” he snorted.

“I heard something like that. How crazy is that?” he let out a half hearted laugh. “But seriously, how are you handling it?”

“I don't know. I'm kind of excited to finally have my mom around. On the other hand, i'm scared.”

Logan told her how his mom was in a car with his dad and a friend. She had been dating him for a little while and they stopped at a bank, his dad apparently robbed it and she was locked up as an accessory. When she got out finally Logan had ran away from foster care and hid himself pretty well. “I guess It's nice to not be alone anymore.” Ellie grabbed his hand “hey, you're not alone. All these people here, the crew, me, Luca. We're you family. You haven't been alone because wherever you go, were with u. Right here.” She placed her hand on his heart. “Thanks Ellie. The same goes for me. I'll always be there for you, no matter what.” He kissed her cheek, and walked over to where Mona and Ximena were standing.

Ellie sat there watching her dad and Sally talk, for a few minutes before hugging and kissing. She turned her head, not wanting to see that. She wondered if her dad knew about Sallys past. She seemed like a very nice woman, and she had not seen her dad so happy. Not in a long time, not since before her mother died. She learned years ago not to judge a book by its cover, so she would give her the benefit of the doubt. If she hurt Logan, she would hunt her down and handle her, herself.  

The day went on, the drama of day seemed to fade away, and everyone ate and were enjoying themselves.  They had a corn hole tournament going on in one corner. Toby lounged in Lucas swimming pool, buzzed and sunburnt, but happy as hell. Logan and Mona were on one team, while Ximena and Darius were on another. Stacie, and Sally sat around watching them.

Colt relaxed in a lounge chair, Luca asleep in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. “You're seriously holding her while she sleeps?” Colt chuckled “well Logan was holding her,  he passed her off to me when it was his turn in Corn hole. She just, fell asleep.” Ellie shook her head. “Suns starting to set, we should probably wake her soon so we can head over to the field and see the fireworks.”  “yeah, my arms dead, so sounds good to me.”

“Luca honey, time to wake up.” Ellie stroked her hair. She started to stir a bit. “He squirt, it's almost time for fireworks. Get up.” Lucas eyes fluttered open. “Can I have some ice cream?” she spoke with a yawn. “Yup. Come on, I'll take you.” Colt stood shaking the sleep from his arm as they disappeared into the house.

Riya slid up next to her. “Watching those two fawn all over Luca has got to be the sexiest thing I've ever seen.” Ellie's mouth flew open. “Ri, you're married and have a son.”

“I know. But seriously, I'm not even sure why you want to divorce Colt. He's clearly still in love with you. Unless.”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you want to be with Logan instead.” Riya waggled her eyes at her.

“I don't know what I want. It's just the right thing to do, divorcing colt. We were so young.”

She rolled her eyes “Whatever you say Ellie.”

“Are you Drunk Riya? And where is Marcus?”

“Mayyyybeeeee.” She giggled. “Dare set the pack n play up in the house, hes sleeping mom sheesh.” Ellie playfully pushed Riyas arm.

They headed out to the field to watch the fireworks display. Toby playing music to go with the show. “Uncle Logie, dance with me.” Luca stood up yanking on his shirt. “Oh sweetie, Stacie asked me to dance first.” Luca puffed out her bottom lip “Ok.” she turned to walk away “Lulu wait. Of course I'll dance with you. Stacie said its ok.” Luca beamed as Logan spun her around. Countless awes coming from the women watching. “Logan is such a good dancer.” Ellie sighed as she watch him float across the black top with her daughter.  

Colt cocked his brow. “Hey. I remember us having some pretty good moves.”

“Of course we did. Are you. Are you Jealous Colt?” she eyed him suspiciously.

“Dance with me Ellie.” she smirked taking his hand. “Oh I guess For old times sakes.”  the song changed as Colt pulled her closer. “You remember this song?”

“How could I forget it.”

Her mind went back to that night in Vegas.

*****

Ellie stood in the empty room, her shaking hands flattened the front of the short white dress she picked up at chapel boutique. Under better circumstances she would have had her father there to give her away, Riya as her maid of honor. She would have spent months picking out her flowers, the dress, the colors, food. But this right here, was what she wanted to do in the moment. Not knowing what the next day would hold. Would she be in jail, dead? She wanted to experience getting married,  she loved Colt, and Colt Loved her. A knock came at the door. “You ready sugar?” An older lady dressed in a tight patent leather dress asked her as she handed her a bouquet.

Ellie nodded as she stepped out of the room. A soft melody began to play as she stepped onto the aisle runner, her eyes locking with Colts.

His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her. He looked handsome wearing a black suit, he fidgeted with his fingers, anxious to take her hands in his. She stood before him, as they joined hands. “Ellie, you are breathtaking.” his voice cracked with emotion,  making her tear up. “You look so handsome Colt.”

They turned towards the officiant, dressed head to toe like Elvis. “Dearly Beloved. Uh huh. We are gathered here today to join these two hearts together.” They tried to stifle their laughter, quickly composing themselves. “Do you Colton Take Eliana to be your wife?” Colt slid the ring on her finger “I do.”

“And do you Eliana take Colton to be your Husband?” She slid the ring onto his finger “I do.”

“By the state of Nevada and the King, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride. Uh huh.” He shifted his hips in true Elvis fashion. As Colt took her in his arms, their lips meeting in a sensual, sweet kiss.

They shared a first dance, in the chapel. Colt pulling her close to him.

Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.

“You know. I think the king was onto something with this song.” Colt smirked. “Oh? And what's that Mr Kaneko?”

“I couldn't help falling in love with you, Mrs Kaneko.”

*****

“I wish you would reconsider the divorce El.” Colts words pulling her from the memory.

Take my hand, take my whole life too. But I can't help, falling in love with you.

“Colt. It's just the right thing to do.”

“the right thing for who? Because I still Love you Ellie. Can you honestly say you don't still Love me?” She stared at him for a moment,  stunned. “I… I…” A loud boom went off above them, Luca came running up “Mommy. Mommy. Its starting.” She grabbed her hand “come on Colt, sit with us.” Her free hand grabbing his.

The next morning Ellie drove into town, she entered the building and stood in line. Her mind swirling from the night before, the dance with Colt, watching Logan dance with Luca. She was so confused, so lost. “Next.” She heard the woman call out. She walked up the desk

“How can I help you?”

She took a deep breath. “I need to file for divorce.”

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[beccarooni]

Goodnight, Sakaar

It was quiet. Which was surprising, given the green giant sleeping next to him. He’d honestly expected Hulk to be a snorer, or perhaps a talker, but all he got was the faint sound of breathing and the gentle rise and fall of a chest.

The silence left a ringing in his ears, a pounding behind his skull left over from the gladiator ring that made every muscle twinge and was really making sleep difficult at this point. It wasn’t that he wasn’t tired - he was fairly sure he’d never been this tired in his life. But his mind wouldn’t rest, wouldn’t settle, and kept forcing the unwanted to the forefront of his thoughts.

If not for the disc in his neck, he was fairly sure he would be conjuring a storm by now.

He could feel the lightning seethe under his skin, and for a moment idly watched it burn and glimmer across his hand.

Sparkles.

Useless, stupid, sparkles.

That was all that was left of the power that had ripped apart the skies themselves. His hammer, crushed like glass in the fist of his sister. And with it, his power.

Thor pulled the blanket up closer around himself, trying to stifle the soft glow of his hands, and instead turned his gaze towards the stars. Different to Asgard, Midgard, any of the places he’d been. Sakaar seemed to have its own constellations, its own system that moved outside of the 9 realms he’d been raised in.

The 9 realms that could be on fire, by now. Burnt to their core by Hela and whatever army she’d managed to amass.

Stars twinkled above him, and somewhere out there was his home. His kingdom. And it was burning. It was burning and he couldn’t do a thing about it because of a disc.

He moved onto his side, tearing his eyes away from the stars and instead focusing them onto Hulk’s back. The big, green back, rippling with muscle, that somehow reminded him of his other home. Of Midgard. Of forests and leaves and his teammates who’d always have his back when they needed him. It was…comforting, in a way. Granted, Hulk had recently punched him into unconsciousness but he seemed to have calmed down now. Even offered to share his bed, once he’d heard Thor’s groans of discomfort from where he tried to sleep on the floor.

Thor had wanted to protest. Really, he had. But Hulk’s bed was big, and the blankets looked soft, and he’d never admit it but he was hurting. Things had happened in quick succession that had left him feeling somewhat lost, and Hulk was offering him a place of refuge, and who was he to say no, really?

And besides, Hulk wasn’t that bad. He was actually rather sweet, in a rough, naive sort of way. He’d planted one of his capes over Thor’s shoulders as a makeshift blanket when it became evident that one wasn’t enough to cover them both, and told him in no uncertain terms to get some rest.

“Blondie sleep now.” He’d said, patting his shoulder over the garishly patterned fabric. “Feel better tomorrow.”

Well, it was probably tomorrow by now. And Thor didn’t feel better.

His home was burning. The prophecy from two years ago, singed into his mind by the Maximoff girl, Heimdall’s bloodied hands gripping his arms and his voice, grating and sharp, speaking of the destruction he would bring.

You’re a destroyer, Odinson.

We are all dead, can you not see?

“Not asleep?”

Deep tones, mumbled through fleeting wakefulness jarred him out of his stupor, as green eyes poked through the darkness to stare at him reproachfully.

Hulk’s eyes glowed slightly, a faint green shine. Weird.

“No, not quite.” Thor frowned to himself, turning onto his back to look at the ceiling instead. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm.” Hulk nodded, huge hands clamping against a mouth to stifle a yawn. There was a rustling of sheets, and out of the corner of his eye Thor caught Hulk staring at him a little more intently than before. Thick brows furrowed, nose slightly scrunched, Hulk huffed slightly through his nostrils. “Thor stressed.”

He opened his mouth, and was surprised at how quickly he’d wanted to lie. He didn’t like lying, and by all accounts wasn’t particularly good at it. That was more Loki’s field of excellence, after all. But the words ‘Im fine’ seemed to escape him before he could even think about what he was saying.

“Just tired, that’s all.” He offered a smile, reaching out to pat Hulk’s forearm before twisting onto his side, trying to escape the prying green light of his eyes. “I’m sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep.”

“What Thor thinking about?”

A perfectly innocent question. One that he could feel the lie building in his throat - the gladiator fight, perhaps? The grandmaster? The ugly walls? He had options. Ones outside of what was actually running through his head. The white hot fear that his planet was going to die. His people were going to die. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Thor wound the blanket tighter between his fingers, screwing his eyes shut against the faint sparks that danced across his palms. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking about. He didn’t even want to be thinking about it.

But someone had to.

He just hated that it had to be him.

And he would’ve kept that secret, too. If it hadn’t been for Hulk’s hand, touching his shoulder with an almost nervous apprehension. He’d been on the receiving end of Hulk’s force before, he’d seen the extent of his strength. But this…this was new. It was gentle. It was a comforting weight across his back, a reminder that right now, he wasn’t alone. Someone was here, waiting to listen.

He just needed to find the words.

“I’m…scared.” He finally choked out, briefly turning his head to look out to the night sky.

“My people are in danger, and everything the Norns told me is coming true and I don’t even know if I can stop it, let alone how. I don’t…” He trailed off, suddenly tight and crushing against his throat. When his voice finally came back to him, it felt small, fragile, with a small waver to it that Thor tried very hard to banish. “I don’t even have my hammer.”

Hulk was quiet for a time after that. So long that Thor thought for a moment he’d fallen back asleep. But eventually, the mattress shifted, as Hulk pushed himself up onto his elbows, shrugging his shoulders as he attempted to string the right words together.

“Thor…”

Hulk began, frowning, fiddling with his hands in a way that seemed more to belong to Banner than it had his green counterpart. The bed creaked as he shuffled somewhat closer, the hand on his shoulder returning to turn Thor towards him, those emerald eyes boring down onto him like the cameras in the arena.

“Thor strong. Brave. Tough, like Hulk.” He paused tilting his head, one large thumb rubbing small circles through Thor’s armor. “Thor gonna be okay.”

Thor blinked, part of him telling him that this was stupid. He shouldn’t be taking advice from the Hulk. You didn’t do that, you took advice from Bruce, the scientist, the doctor. Hulk wasn’t supposed to contain profound knowledge and he certainly wasn’t supposed to be comforting.

But that didn’t change the fact that he was. Hulk was telling him that he was strong, that he could do this, and by the Norns did he want to believe him.

Thor released his hold on the blanket, flexing his fingers in front of his eyes. No lightning. Just sparks, dancing between his fingertips. Hardly the stuff of legend. He’d battled before, frost giants, dark elves, robots, his brother that one time. But this one…this one was hurting. He didn’t have a team with him, at least not one he was used to. Or, maybe he did. Maybe his team was a big green man who somehow believed that he could save a planet from destruction.

He so wanted to keep his voice strong for this. But it was quiet, practically a whisper, a barely audible sound breaking the silence of the room. “You really think I can do it?”

Hulk breathed out sharply through his nose, tossing his head against the pillow in an attempt at a shrug. “Hulk don’t know what Thor doing. But yes. Thor not that puny.”

A small smile graced Thor’s features, the pressure in his chest feeling just that little bit lighter when he allowed himself a chuckle, pressing his face half into the pillow to at least try and cover the sound.

“Blondie stop laughing! Hulk being serious!” One of Hulk’s hands roughly prodded him in the shoulder, the outrage in his voice only serving to make Thor’s giggling harder to contain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” He sighed, happily this time, and sat up in the bed so he could look at Hulk properly. “It’s lovely that you care. You’re very sweet to say all that.”

“Hulk not sweet! Hulk strong!” Hulk’s frown deepened as Thor clamped his hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with muted laughter. “Blondie stop it!”

“Alright, alright!”

Thor narrowly dodged one of Hulk’s hands, slamming into the mattress where he’d been laying just seconds ago. He was still smiling, he didn’t think he was ever going to be able to banish that grin from his face, but he’d rather avoid a further pummeling from Hulk if he could. And, besides. It had been sweet. And it had made him feel better. The last thing he wanted to do was make Hulk uncomfortable, even if it was just through compliments.

He held his hands up in defence, moving slowly to pat the green muscle of Hulk’s chest in a show of thanks, his tone sobering slightly as he tried to claw for words that seemed more sincere.

“Truly, you are a creature of wisdom. Thank you.”

Hulk sniffed, tossing his head back against the pillow and drawing most of the blankets with him, staring up at Thor with a soft green glow spilling from between the blankets.

“Thor welcome. Now go sleep.”

“Yes, yes of course. That seems wise.” He stretched out on the bed, letting his eyes shut against the harsh colours of the ceiling, trying to tune out the background noise of Sakaar as he made himself comfortable. “Goodnight, Hulk.”

“Night, Blondie.”

[maraudersbish]

Snitch (oliver wood x oc)

PART ONE

Pairings: Oliver wood x phoenix Black Warnings: none Words:1035 Note: im going to keep on switching pov between Phoenix and oliver.

•▪•

Oliver's pov

It’s six in the morning and its Saturday so the classe starts at nine. We use this free period to practice for the next quidditch tournament. Ever since Professor McGonagall introduced me to Harry and ask him to be on the team, I was thrilled. The boy is a natural, and when I hear that his father was one of the best seeker in Hogwarts I couldn’t be more happier. It gives me hope that Gryffindor will win the cup this year. Though, im still a bit scared that those Slytherins will beat us again. Because I know that Phoenix, the captain of the Slytherin’s team will literally do anything to win.

And that scares me.

“What’s wrong with you Ollie? you’ve been starring at that window for like decades” said one of my teammate Fred.

I’m not even surprised anymore. They had done this since their first year in Hogwarts which lead me to the conclusion that the twins could popped out of thin air and disappear like they were never there.

“Since when you’re here?” I ask him calmly.

“Decades ago” said Fred in a ‘duh’ tone. I just rolled my eyes at him and get ready for the practice.

I put on my robes and head downstairs, to the common room and wait for the others to come. When everybody’s present. We quickly head to the broom closet to get our brooms and walk to the field.

“Planning on doing something this morning?” a VERY familiar voice ask me.

When we arrived at the field I was greeted by a swarm of green and my mood immediately drops.

“We already told professor McGonagall that we will use the quidditch pitch for practice this morning Black” I said facing her without showing any emotion.

“And we already told professor Snape, he gave me this letter for you to give to McGonagall” she handed me a letter from Snape, like always. I don’t even have to read it anymore because I already know what it meant.

“No” I said unfazed. “Its our chance to practise, your team have had enough practise” I told her with a straight face.

“There is never enough practise” She said with a piercing stormy eyes. “We are nearing the tournament, and we need to practise”

“So do we!” at that time I really couldn’t hold my anger anymore. She has stepped out of the line.

“Then practise somewhere else” the girl brushed it off like it was nothing.

“No. You really are a pain in the arse aren’t you?! Do you not understand that other people also need to practise for the tournament?! You’re so fucking selfish and cold harted,  I think your father would be really proud of you” I said glaring at her.

For a second there I thought I saw something flashed in her eyes, but it dissappear in a flash.

“You know nothing about my dad!” She said with a wand raised to my throat.

“Whoa” I hear someone said behind me. It was George, his eyes are locked to her’s, hands up as he approached slowly.

“Put that down, Black. You don’t want to do this, I know you dont” He said carefully.

To my surprise, it worked. Phee lower down her wand (gosh, its weird to call her by her old nickname I gave her all those year ago), but her eyes are still burning with hatred.

I wonder what went wrong between us.

We were friends for sometime, we would talk about quidditch, about how much she wanted to be in the quidditch team, she would ask me advices to get in the team ( I was the first one of us to be in the quidditch team) I would show her the quidditch gear and her eyes would sparkle. but then she left me. She gave me the cold shoulder, we didn’t talked for months.

Then the next thing I know she’s sitting on a broom stick in the field during tournament.

'She did it’ was the first thought that came up to my mind. I gave her a smile when I saw her, her eyes didn’t sparkle, and I was given a curt nod in return.

“lets go guys. come on Ollie, we can practise tonight” said Fred.

“No, this is not okay. This behaviour have to stop. This is unfair!”

“If I were you, Ollie, I’d listen to the red head” The dark haired girl said, folding her hands on her chest with a challenging look on her face.

“You know what? Fuck this, Fuck you” I spat.

I give Fred a death glare and head back to the castle, I’m pretty sure my face looks like tomato right now because I was that angry and that embarresed. Ollie?! Just wait and see Fred.

I stomp my feet like an angry child on the way to my room. And when I’m finally there, I lay on my bed and close my eyes, trying to blow off some steam. After I cooled down a bit, I quickly think of a revenge plan for Fred.

I reach under my bed to get something special for Fred for embarrassing me in front of the quidditch team, in front of her.

I’m pretty sure that the twins are already in the Great Hall for breakfast, they were never late when it came to food.

After I get what I needed, I quickly run to the Great Hall, my eyes search for two read heads and when I finally able to spot them, I took a seat next to Fred, he give me a small nod before continuing to munch on his breakfast.

I tried to make a conversation so that I didn’t look suspicious, and when Fred is not looking, I pour a little something into Fred’s pumpkin juice, and wait for the reaction.

“Umm Fred?” Ask Angelina one of my teammate, eyes focused on his hair as I trying to hold smile.

“Yes?” Asked Fred without suspecting a thing.

“Your hair, its not ginger like the usual… its green? and Oh my God, it bloody stinks” said Angelina, covering her nose.

“What?” ask Fred, face scrunched in confusion.

Then his nose twitch and he make a gaging sound. “What the-” he screamed, hands trying to get whatever it is in his hair. That’s when all attention in the Great Hall focused on Fred. Then the Great Hall erupt in laughter. Honestly, I feel really bad for doing what I did.

“did–you — do – that?” ask George in between laughter.

I just nod my head, uncertain of the reaction George is going to give me.

“Oh, that’s brilliant Ollie… is that the potion I gave you for christmas?”

“Yes”

“Brilliant! now I don’t have to test my potion. Because its obviously working” he said, wiping a tear from his eyes before drawing his wand and mutter a counter spell, and Fred’s hair turn into his normal red.

The laughter died down because professor Dumledore tell us to eat peacefully. While eating, I couldn’t stop myself from stealing a glance to the Slytherin’s table. I found Phee’s gaze, its not her challenging gaze, that’s weird.

I raised my eyebrows at her, and that made her stop looking at me. But her not looking at me doesn’t make me avert my eyes from her.

I’m glad I didn’t avert my gaze because if I did, I wouldn’t have caught her looking at me from the corner of her eyes.

She saw I was looking, and her pale skin turns scarlet, she turns her attention to her friend and I turn my attention back to my food.

“Someone’s happy” quip George, eyes locked on his drink.

“Who?” I asked, dropping my fork to my plate

“You” he smirked, eyes glistening woth mischief.

“Me?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“You were smiling like an idiot” he said as if he pointed out the obvious.

“I was not” said, getting weirdly deffensive.

George gives me a look and continue eating his meals while the others are just staring at me with a confused face.

It’s six in the morning and its Saturday so the classe starts at nine. We use this free period to practice for the next quidditch tournament. Ever since Professor McGonagall introduced me to Harry and ask him to be on the team, I was thrilled. The boy is a natural, and when I hear that his father was one of the best seeker in Hogwarts I couldn’t be more happier. It gives me hope that Gryffindor will win the cup this year. Though, im still a bit scared that those Slytherins will beat us again. Because I know that Phoenix, the captain of the Slytherin’s team will literally do anything to win.

And that scares me.

“What’s wrong with you Ollie? you’ve been starring at that window for like decades” said one of my teammate Fred.

I’m not even surprised anymore. They had done this since their first year in Hogwarts which lead me to the conclusion that the twins could popped out of thin air and disappear like they were never there.

“Since when you’re here?” I ask him calmly.

“Decades ago” said Fred in a 'duh’ tone. I just rolled my eyes at him and get ready for the practice.

I put on my robes and head downstairs, to the common room and wait for the others to come. When everybody’s present. We quickly head to the broom closet to get our brooms and walk to the field.

“Planning on doing something this morning?” a VERY familiar voice ask me.

When we arrived at the field I was greeted by a swarm of green and my mood immediately drops.

“We already told professor McGonagall that we will use the quidditch pitch for practice this morning Black” I said facing her without showing any emotion.

“And we already told professor Snape, he gave me this letter for you to give to McGonagall” she handed me a letter from Snape, like always. I don’t even have to read it anymore because I already know what it meant.

“No” I said unfazed. “Its our chance to practise, your team have had enough practise” I told her with a straight face.

“There is never enough practise” She said with a piercing stormy eyes. “We are nearing the tournament, and we need to practise”

“So do we!” at that time I really couldn’t hold my anger anymore. She has stepped out of the line.

“Then practise somewhere else” the girl brushed it off like it was nothing.

“No. You really are a pain in the arse aren’t you?! Do you not understand that other people also need to practise for the tournament?! You’re so fucking selfish and cold harted,  I think your father would be really proud of you” I said glaring at her.

For a second there I thought I saw something flashed in her eyes, but it dissappear in a flash.

“You know nothing about my dad!” She said with a wand raised to my throat.

“Whoa” I hear someone said behind me. It was George, his eyes are locked to her’s, hands up as he approached slowly.

“Put that down, Black. You don’t want to do this, I know you dont” He said carefully.

To my surprise, it worked. Phee lower down her wand (gosh, its weird to call her by her old nickname I gave her all those year ago), but her eyes are still burning with hatred.

I wonder what went wrong between us.

We were friends for sometime, we would talk about quidditch, about how much she wanted to be in the quidditch team, she would ask me advices to get in the team ( I was the first one of us to be in the quidditch team) I would show her the quidditch gear and her eyes would sparkle. but then she left me. She gave me the cold shoulder, we didn’t talked for months.

Then the next thing I know she’s sitting on a broom stick in the field during tournament.

'She did it’ was the first thought that came up to my mind. I gave her a smile when I saw her, her eyes didn’t sparkle, and I was given a curt nod in return.

“lets go guys. come on Ollie, we can practise tonight” said Fred.

“No, this is not okay. This behaviour have to stop. This is unfair!”

“If I were you, Ollie, I’d listen to the red head” The dark haired girl said, folding her hands on her chest with a challenging look on her face.

“You know what? Fuck this, Fuck you” I spat.

I give Fred a death glare and head back to the castle, I’m pretty sure my face looks like tomato right now because I was that angry and that embarresed. Ollie?! Just wait and see Fred.

I stomp my feet like an angry child on the way to my room. And when I’m finally there, I lay on my bed and close my eyes, trying to blow off some steam. After I cooled down a bit, I quickly think of a revenge plan for Fred.

I reach under my bed to get something special for Fred for embarrassing me in front of the quidditch team, in front of her.

I’m pretty sure that the twins are already in the Great Hall for breakfast, they were never late when it came to food.

After I get what I needed, I quickly run to the Great Hall, my eyes search for two read heads and when I finally able to spot them, I took a seat next to Fred, he give me a small nod before continuing to munch on his breakfast.

I tried to make a conversation so that I didn’t look suspicious, and when Fred is not looking, I pour a little something into Fred’s pumpkin juice, and wait for the reaction.

“Umm Fred?” Ask Angelina one of my teammate, eyes focused on his hair as I trying to hold smile.

“Yes?” Asked Fred without suspecting a thing.

“Your hair, its not ginger like the usual… its green? and Oh my God, it bloody stinks” said Angelina, covering her nose.

“What?” ask Fred, face scrunched in confusion.

Then his nose twitch and he make a gaging sound. “What the-” he screamed, hands trying to get whatever it is in his hair. That’s when all attention in the Great Hall focused on Fred. Then the Great Hall erupt in laughter. Honestly, I feel really bad for doing what I did.

“did–you — do – that?” ask George in between laughter.

I just nod my head, uncertain of the reaction George is going to give me.

“Oh, that’s brilliant Ollie… is that the potion I gave you for christmas?”

“Yes”

“Brilliant! now I don’t have to test my potion. Because its obviously working” he said, wiping a tear from his eyes before drawing his wand and mutter a counter spell, and Fred’s hair turn into his normal red.

The laughter died down because professor Dumledore tell us to eat peacefully. While eating, I couldn’t stop myself from stealing a glance to the Slytherin’s table. I found Phee’s gaze, its not her challenging gaze, that’s weird.

I raised my eyebrows at her, and that made her stop looking at me. But her not looking at me doesn’t make me avert my eyes from her.

I’m glad I didn’t avert my gaze because if I did, I wouldn’t have caught her looking at me from the corner of her eyes.

She saw I was looking, and her pale skin turns scarlet, she turns her attention to her friend and I turn my attention back to my food.

“Someone’s happy” quip George, eyes locked on his drink.

“Who?” I asked, dropping my fork to my plate

“You” he smirked, eyes glistening woth mischief.

“Me?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“You were smiling like an idiot” he said as if he pointed out the obvious.

“I was not” said, getting weirdly deffensive.

George gives me a look and continue eating his meals while the others are just staring at me with a confused face.

[a-memory-of]

Arshtat Ejinn had been resting most of the evening, per Miss Vienne's insistence. Khuu was beside her, chasing her fingers across the blanket. She looked up at the sound of the door, smiling, "Madoc."

Madoc Parnell had been out running an errand instead of sitting at Arsh's bedside--also per Miss Vienne's insistence. The fresh air always helped to cool his head. "Hey, luv," he greeted, smirking in encouragement. A mug of something was in his hand, and light steam wafted away as he stepped toward her. "How you feelin'?"

She dropped her eyes down to Khuu a moment, pulling her hand back from play to stroke his back instead. "Better... it is admittedly hard to stay in bed, but I had some company at least." Looking back to him, her brow furrowed a bit in worry, "A-And you?"

Madoc couldn't help but chuckle, moving sit at the bedside. "That's just like you, to worry 'bout me," he grinned, his tone warm. "I'm fine, aye? Here, brought you some soup from the kitchen." He passed her the mug; there was a spoon in it as well.

"Oh... thank you," she took the offered soup as the cub went to greet Madoc. "I know, and I know you do not like me to worry over you..." She went quiet for a moment, then slowly looked up again. "But it's not just... the wounds I was worried about."

He gave the cub a few pets, Khuu could never be denied. "Oh?" His dark eyes peeked toward her. He was often quite good at not letting things get to him--or at least not letting it show, but she had always been good at reading through him. "Mmh," he rumbled, "well, 'side from wanting to wring that miqo'te's neck, I'm feelin' fine."

Arshtat quieted again, biting down on the inside of her cheek. It took a moment for her to find the right words she wanted to say. "I think," she tried, running a finger on the rim of the mug, "I think if I had something i-inside me that I could not control... if I h-hurt people around me, I'd... feel really scared. And alone."

"A guy like him? I doubt he's alone, luv." He gave Khuu a few more scritches and leaned back to be closer to Arsh. "...But scared, aye, maybe. Been there before, not too long ago, even." His gaze lingered on the scar across part of her chest. "You think I'm bein' too hard on him? He would've killed you."

Arshtat shook her head slowly, "He might... have people around him. But not many would know what it is like." She likely knew where his thoughts were leading; in truth, it was part of the reason perhaps she was not angry as she should have been. "He did not mean it... a-and we were there, to p-prevent something like this from happening... weren't we? I think he understands."

Madoc let out a gruff but quiet sigh, knowing she was right. "Aye, 'course. 'Course..." His mouth pressed into a thin line. "Are you tellin' me to keep on helpin' him?"

She blinked, looking back down at her soup. "I... I mean, I wouldn't ask you to do something you did not wish but..." She bit her lip again, adjusting the soup in her lap, and reaching over to the bedside table. Offering him a familiar red envelope, she smiled, "I think... everyone deserves a second chance."

Madoc offered her a small look, a smirk tugging at his cheek as he took the envelope and regarded it for a long moment. "...You've got a good heart, luv," he murmured. A defeated sigh. "Alright, I'll bring 'im along. Worst thing that'd happen is he'd make a nice snack." He flashed a teasing grin toward Arsh, feeling a little more himself.

Arshtat’s mouth parted, a look of concern on her features. For a moment, she worried she had actually condemned the miqo'te to death, quite unintentionally. But his smile eased her, a little. "So do you, you know."

He rolled a little to better face her and idly brushed his fingertips against the scales of her ankle and tops of her feet. "Nay," he disagreed, still smirking. "Think things'd be a lot different without you beside me."

Arshtat hid a smile behind her soup mug. "I am uncertain of that... but I am glad we are with one another," she opened her arms slightly, offering, "You've been out all day... l-lay with with me?"

His brows lifted, and he all too readily crawled along the bed to wrap his arms around her middle and get comfortable. He pressed a kiss to her cheek once they were situated. "How's the soup?"

She easily tucked herself against him, smiling, "It is good. I guess the kitchen c-can manage without me for a bit. Until... Miss Vienne lets me go back to work." She gave a quiet laugh. Khuu moved to lounge at their feet.

Madoc chuckled. "You work too hard as it is," he gently chided, his tone hinting at a half-tease. "Once you're feelin' better, we should go somewhere again..."

"I enjoy it though..." she took a deep breath, fully leaning against him. "Oh...? I hope to feel better soon then. I always enjoy going places with you."

"Aye, I feel the same," he smiled, enveloping her in his arms. He hummed. "How long you think we have 'til Red comes back in with her finger waggin'?"

Arshtat gave a quiet laugh in return, pulling back just enough to set aside her mug. "W-Well, we are in bed... I am at least not going against what she told me."

"True, true..." He tilted his head to touch his lips to her neck. The insatiable xaela would make the most of their time alone. Khuu, anticipating antics, gave them a look and hopped off the bed. 

Probably for the best.

With @thrillofbattle, mentions of @xevtan

[sidespromptblog]

Uncommon Falsehoods: Part 3

Summary:  Something that no one saw coming, Logan and Deceit bond over being the “least popular characters” and at the new development the other sides feel jealous. They had never thought that Logan wouldn’t always be there with them and for them, now though, they have to deal with the fact that not all falsehoods are uncommon.

One and Two, Four, Five, Six

“Has anyone seen Logan?” Breaking away from Roman as he glanced around, Patton’s eyebrows furrowed as his deep brown eyes darted all around the living room. While he may admit that he had gotten a little caught up in hugging, as well as comforting Roman, he had wanted to congratulate Logan about everything that had happened. Along with to tease him a little about all of the puns he had made that evening.

However, looking around he didn’t see one hint of Logan. Surely the logical side wouldn’t have left to his room already, after all, he was going to make thumbprint cookies that had the new jelly in them. Logan still would have wanted to try it right?

“I’m sure that Specs went into the kitchen to devour the rest of the jelly. You know how much he loves it.” Roman cracked a smile at Patton, and just like that the tiny seeds of worry faded away at the handsome smile on the handsome side’s face.

“You’re probably right.” He finally relented on the subject, and hooking his arm around Virgil who didn’t appear to be all that convinced he pressed a kiss to his temple. Watching as the tension drained out of the anxious side.

However, upon heading into the kitchen, expecting to see Logan guzzling down the jars of jelly, or in the very least snacking on it like a somewhat sensible person would. Patton felt those seeds of worry spring back up, and glancing over to Virgil, he saw that same worry reflected in the other’s eyes as they stood at the kitchen entrance. Roman, however, was the only one who didn’t appear to be all that worried, giving both Virgil and Patton a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. Looking over to the creative side, he smiled at them again.

“I’ll go and get Specs out of his room, he spends enough time in there as it is.” Roman assured them, squashing down his own uncertainty as he fixed a smile on his face. “Why don’t you two get started? We’ll be down in a minute.” And just like that, he was off, marching up the stairs with a plan and the mind to go through with it.

Inside of Logan’s room, however, the logical side was bent over the table that he had summoned just so that both he and Deceit could put their puzzle together. His eyes squinted at all of the pieces.

“You have any border pieces?” He asked the lying side, his eyes drifting over to Deceit who during their time together in Logan’s room, had actually removed his cap and hat. His hat now holding a good number of the puzzle pieces inside of it.

Those pale and nimble fingers plucked through each of the painted cardboard pieces one by one, dropping the ones that didn’t meet Logan’s particular request until he found one, a tentative smile curled onto Deceit’s lips as he watched the logical side combing over the puzzle they had been working on together for some time. He had no idea what would come of the puzzle, or even what it would be in the end, but he was alright with that. Even if Logan seemed to have some trouble finding the particular pieces he needed, he was happy to be there and hand them over when they were needed.

In all honesty, that he was surprised he even clung to given who he was, it was a surprising thing to be like this. To be here just relaxing and doing something as simple as a puzzle with one of the only people who had been able to see through any and all lies he was able to fabricate. Originally, he would have perhaps made some effort to cosplay as Logan next, but now...he wasn’t so sure about it. He’d had plans, those plans had not included Logan weeping in his room alone, and those plans had most certainly not included Deceit feeling...guilty for possibly causing those tears.

I am supposed to be a villain...what on earth am I doing here putting together a puzzle of all things? Was something that Deceit found himself thinking on more than one occasion, although each and every time that Logan turned to him with his hand unfolded looking to have another puzzle piece placed in the center of his palm. The more that the thought faded away and even more so that he couldn’t exactly find the answer. He could partake in a puzzle, one puzzle wasn’t going to ruin his reputation as the villain. Although, if Logan smiled at him like that again, with his soft brown eyes that were no longer full of tears, but instead a shy almost uncertain look on his face. Then he was going to have to start trying to get the logical side to come over to his side. Because Logan had no business looking that way, while also being with the light sides.

With the knock on the door Deceit knew, he just knew that it was only a matter of time before his time with Logan was cut short and burned to the ground.

The knock did very little, as before Logan could even tell Roman to not come barging in, the door swung open dramatically with Roman standing there with a grand look on his face as he swept his arms open. “Come, Logan! Pat and Virge want you to help make those cookies! They are downstairs waiting and I want to eat the dough and-” All it took was laying eyes on Deceit, for any and all upcoming words to die in the creative side’s throat, before his hand started to instinctively move towards his side.

Logan could already tell that this was going to be a mess.

“Villain!” Roman practically snarled at Deceit, a good helping of venom coating his voice as his sword gleamed in the lighting of Logan’s room, his stance automatically shifted into that of someone who was about to throw down. “Logan move aside, I shall protect you from this snake-faced fiend!”

Deceit though quickly slunk back at the sight of the sword, his eyes widening just enough for Logan to know that the prospect of violence, let alone from Roman, someone who knew how to use the sword effectively, had scared him. Deceit unfortunately for himself, didn’t get too far. As eventually the back of his legs bumped against Logan’s bed, and it was just like that, that he found himself trapped. The fear he felt struck him right in the stomach, as the sensation of fingers digging into his internal organ and twisting it around like it was fun puddy was not something that he was overly used to. His breath caught in his throat, and his body felt locked into one position.

Virgil had always said fear was fight or flight, well Deceit was strongly placed in the or category as all he could even do in that moment was stare at Roman as he moved to take his first step forward.

This was going to hurt, a lot.

Watching it all go down, Logan had no idea on what had possessed him to do it, or even what he would have done differently had he thought about it a few moments longer. But seeing the pure unadulterated awe on Deceit’s face, something that was not even tempered down by the other’s constant need to hide things, and seeing the frustration on Roman’s face. Made his decision to step out in front of Roman all the more correct in Logan’s eyes.  As he firmly stood there in front of Roman eying the other and his blade down, with a sort of cool and calm fury that didn’t really show what he was thinking.

“What do you think that you’re doing Logan?! Did you forget what he did?! What he almost made Thomas do?!” Roman instantly snapped the moment that Logan had firmly placed himself in the prince’s path. Roman didn’t dare to take another step forward, and he didn’t dare to lift his sword against Logan. He couldn’t. Instead, Roman let the sharp tip of it point to the floor instead of at Logan’s chest like it had done before.

“I have not forgotten Roman.” Logan’s frigidly composed voice somehow made the confusion and anger bubbling under Roman’s skin burn all the more, “But he is in my room as my guest and you have no right to chase him away from here. He has done no harm to me. So if you do not like it…”

Logan paused, before his feet moved forward, behind him he heard Deceit making a startled and mortified sound, as the lying side wanted to drag Logan back away from the one who was holding a dangerous weapon. Although before Deceit could act on that urge, Logan was already out of his arm's reach now standing just a hair’s breath away from Logan before he leaned in close. His lips brushed the curve of the creative side’s ear, and he lingered there for a moment letting Roman grasp the full seriousness of the situation before he harshly whispered.

“Then you can leave.”

Tagged:

@well-love-has-failed-me

@violetmcl

@im-so-infinitesimal

@neko-ereri

@sugermint

@5am-the-foxing-hour

@moonstonefox12

@bibbidi-bobbity-booyah 

@unikornavenger

@estraevelyn

@bluebonkherostudent

[letmewritemylife]

Home Is Where You Are Not (Part 1)

Home is where you can’t reach me. - 8kids (Ich gehöre dir nicht)

A/N Oh yeah, good old angst. But tbh Lara is too baby to deserve this

TRIGGER WARNINGS Implied demonic possession (is that a thing? idk), implied past abuse

‘Das ist nicht mein Mann’, sagt sie sich immer wieder während sie im Zug alle anstarren.*

She adjusts her sunglasses with the back of a hand, trying harder than ever to ignore all those eyes set on her. Why can’t anyone mind their own business? With a sigh, she collapses on her chair, focusing on the report before her. At least Feige didn’t question her unusually covering clothes. Then, she lets out a breath, glad beyond imagination by what she has just read. Luckily, this time her mission doesn’t include going undercover at a party full of male guests. She could not bear it again. He could not bear it again.

She is walking back and forth across the Sanctum library, arms crossed tightly on her chest in defense. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. She collapses on the couch and buries her face in her hands, sobbing weakly. “How does one even break a wall of a high-security cell?” 

A shaking hand tentatively sets on her shoulder and she turns around to wrap Stephen in her arms, nestling her face in the crook of his neck. The sorcerer waits for a moment, as if to wait for any signal to stop, but upon receiving none he pulls her closer. All his attempts to steady his hands turn vain and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’re safe here,” he murmurs against the side of her face, but they both know very well that, despite how sad it may sound, it’s not true at all.

But she nods all the same, appreciating the effort. She pecks his cheek and closes her eyes. “Please, just once, stop time, let me live in peace a little more,” she thinks, tightening her grip around his shoulders.

Stephen brings a hand to the top of her hand and begins slowly caressing her hair, his scarred fingers getting stuck in the silky strands. Witnessing her fear, he doesn’t have the heart to tell her how dangerous the situation may actually be, regardless of some psychopath escaping jail. “One doesn’t simply break a wall of a high-security jail.” But what scares him the most in the fact that no guard or prisoner seems to remember anything about those damn two hours. Absolutely no one. And that assh*le clearly doesn't have enough money to corrupt an entire prison.

She swallows heavily, holding back a sob. “I just wanted to move on,” she whispers.

He doesn’t say anything and instead pulls her closer, brushing his lips against the side of her face. “I know.”

Contrary to Lara’s deepest wishes, time slips fast and the previously sunny sky is quickly covered by clouds. Snow begins falling and Lara raises her gaze from Stephen’s shoulder to watch it as it covers New York with unusual delicacy. She lets out a breath and leans with the side of her face on Stephen’s shoulder, closing her eyelids in an almost desperate attempt to calm down.

When Stephen’s lips brush her forehead, a smile creeps on her lips. She opens her eyes and cups the sorcerer’s face in her hands, almost laughing at his confused expression. “Thank you for being here with me,” she whispers in a tone that is much sadder than it was intended to be.

His lips turn slightly upwards, even though he can’t shake off the lingering feeling that something bad is about to happen. “Anytime.” When his eyes set on her, he remembers the promise he made to himself many years before, on a cold night of that mess of a year that 2020 had been.

It was almost dawn and he had woken up after a nightmare. Nothing unusual, Dormammu had been tormenting him for years back then. What was still painfully unusual was, however, waking up without someone ready to calm him, someone who had most likely had a nightmare too, but didn’t want to admit it, someone who would talk with him about the most random topic until they both would fall asleep.

That void had been painful for him since the first moment, he knew that. But on that specific night loneliness came accompanied by regret: regret for never openly appreciating that pair of blue eyes shining beside him, comforting him, distracting him, fighting away whatever demon had been haunting his dreams. And that was the night he decided to never take for granted those precious people keeping him grounded and never expect them to just know how much he cared about them.

Now, those blue eyes are right in front of him, studying his face. He lets out a breath, a sudden knot in his throat. “Lara, I-”

His awkward attempt at explaining his emotions is stopped by Lara pressing her lips to his, almost as if she already knew what he was about to say. When they part, any chance to go back to their conversation is destroyed by a message on Lara’s phone and a request from Elize: “Come here before Lilith kills your brother.”

When Lara steps out of the portal Stephen has promptly conjured, Lilith is one step away from breaking Jonathan’s skull against the wall. “Jonathan Houghton, I swear if you go after him-”

He laughs sarcastically. “You’ll do what? Treat me like sh*t? Would be no novelty.”

She sighs loudly, trying to bring the conversation back to calmer tones. “Jon, I’ll handle this situation just fine on my own, you don’t need to worry.”

“You told me the same when we arrested him and here we are!” He screams, his face as red as Lilith’s pants. “I SHOULD’VE KILLED HIM MONTHS AGO!”

Lilith clenches her fists and raises her voice too, not caring about disturbing the poor neighbours. "You dumb idiot, not everything's about you and your sister!" She takes a step towards him, her eyes locked on his. "If you do this, you may get hurt."

He arches an eyebrow. "And since when do you care so much about me?"

She opens her mouth slightly, then she finds enough self-control not to answer. "Whatever. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Houghton." Without further explanation, she walks out of the flat, pushing Stephen out of her way.

Jonathan watches her as she leaves, barely able to hold back further insults, and is only woken up from his tranche by Lara placing a hand on his arm. “Is everything alright?” she asks with astonishing calm, surprising not only Jonathan but herself too.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Elle,” he mumbles, moving his gaze frantically between the parquet and her face.

She bites her bottom lip, catching with the corner of her eye his laptop still laying on the couch, Google Maps open on the screen. “What did you call me for?”

He throws a glance at Stephen, who is standing in perfect silence beside Elize, and the man ponders whom among his sister and the sorcerer he’d rather have by his side to commit murder. “We- actually, Lilith found Main.” He reaches for his laptop and moves it on the nearby table to let her the map. “He’s supposed to be with an uncertain number of agents here,” he says moving the cursor on the screen. “Near Whitman, Nebraska. We suspect he’s occupying an abandoned base.”

She nods and, leaning with her palms on the wooden surface of the table, she straightens herself. “And when are we leaving?”

He blinks a few times, unsure if he’s more surprised or concerned. “I- I didn’t think you wanted to-”

“Why shouldn’t I want to come?” she asks, arching a brow as a smirk paints her lips.

Jonathan would like to reply, but judging by her reddened eyes he understands his sister is going through that phase after a breakdown in which she is the most stubborn. Sure not to be able to convince her not to come, he nods. “We may as well leave now.”

Elize joins the conversation, hands buried deeply in the pockets of her sweatshirt. “Shouldn’t you, you know… inform S.H.I.E.L.D. of this little trip of yours?”

Jonathan scoffs, pleased to be able to throw out the remains of his anger towards Lilith. “Miss America doesn’t give a f*ck about this thing, last time it took me more to convince him than to actually get to Oklahoma City.”

Elize is about to reply, hoping to use Stephen’s clear disagreement with Jonathan’s plan to her advantage, but Lara stops her. “Yeah, don’t worry, Liz. We’ll be fine.”

She sighs loudly, putting so much effort into not reminding the two idiots - no, sibling, the two siblings - about all the other times they were supposed to “be fine” and almost died. “Whatever, have fun. Now I have to make a call.” She leaves to her room, damning whoever forgot to give her friends a little common sense. Luckily, her girlfriend is used to their stubborness mixed with pure idiocy and won’t miss a single step of them.

In the meantime, as Jonathan is in his room, reading his gun to hopefully shoot some assh*le, Lara finds herself staring out of the window of the living room, her gaze following the cars running below her. Something deep inside her hopes not to see any dark grey SUV. 

A shaking hand lingers on her waist, failing to bring her back to reality completely. Stephen lets out a deep breath, the side of his face brushing her hair. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean… Yo- I-” God, how come his brain always short-cuts around her?

She smirks and leans against his side, enjoying the sight of the former world renowned neurosurgeon and now Master of the Mystic Arts Doctor Stephen Strange stammering like a shy boy offering his snack to his pretty classmate.

Her amusement does nothing but make the sorcerer blush until his face is almost of the same colour as Lara’s boots. “I… I lo-”

And once again she cuts him off by pressing an affectionate kiss to his cheek, definitely throwing all of his brain cells out of the window. Or at least it seems so, because otherwise the far from stupid man would have noticed the curious way Lara always feels like kissing him when he’s about to say those damn three words. After quickly pecking his lips, she runs a finger along his jaw. “You can come with us, if you want to,” she says with a strange glint in her eyes that makes Stephen wince.

He nods just before a cough behind them prevents him from going back to his previous point. Jonathan arches a brow, throwing Stephen a look that could kill, an option way scarier considering the loaded gun in his holster. “Are you guys done or you need a room?”

Stephen huffs and before the other man can even acknowledge it, he has portaled the three of them inside their intended base of destination. Jonathan just stops a broom from falling on his head and throws a glance around the dark closet. “You know this place’s abandoned, right?” he groans to Stephen, but the sorcerer arches a brow.

“Like that one in Washington?”

“It was one time.”

“Already too much.”

“What’s the matter with you two?” Lara comments, her arms crossed as she stands between the two men.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t trust me!” Jonathan whines.

“I would trust if you weren’t so stupid all the time,” Stephen replies, rolling his eyes.

Lara huffs and damns the day she decided to make them meet. “Join me when you’re done,” she says before leaving the two to their banter.

The hallway is empty, dust dancing in the air and shining when hit by sunlight. To Lara’s left, broken emergency stairs lead outside, where heavy snowfalls have covered everything but a narrow street surrounding the building. The whitish emergency door, with the stained glass on the top half broken, has been knocked off and leans useless against a wall, letting in the freezing wind of Nebraska’s winter.

Lara walks down the other end of the hallway, her boots leaving prints on the dirty floor. She hasn’t even got to the end of the corridor, when a strong stink of sulfur fills her nostrils. Her inner chemist takes over and she begins scanning her mind, searching for all possible compounds containing sulfur that could be found in a place like that. As her magic proceeds to isolate it, Lara walks to an unusually dark door and upon touching it she confirms that it’s been burnt all over its surface. She pushes it carefully, black ashes covering her palms, and she steps inside what used to be a laboratory, shattered glass and damaged tools scattered on the floor.

Before she can even realize what is going on, something wraps around her neck and her vision goes blurry. A voice gets inside her head, mumbling words in one of those strange languages Stephen sometimes speaks in with supernatural creatures. The only sentence she can recognize is a long series of fake apologies spoken by someone she knows too well. And then nothing.

*“That’s not my man,” she tells herself over and over while everyone on the train stares at her.

[myriadimagines]

It Has To Work

Marvel (The Avengers) One Shot

Characters: [GENDER NEUTRAL] Reader x Natasha Romanoff + Steve Rogers, Scott Lang, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Laura Barton

Warnings: mentions of death

Request: “Can I get a one shot with natasha x reader post civil war where the reader was on team cap and when they're broken out they go looking for Nat to make amends and figure out what to do now that the Avengers are scattered at this point” - anonymous

Word Count: 1,075

A/N: sorry if this was a little inaccurate, tbh im kinda forgetting what happened in cacw. and i’m not sure if u wanted this to be romantic or not, i kinda did something halfway if this was alright

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“About time you showed up.” you grumped as you saw Steve materialise from the shadows. Getting up from the corner of the cell you were trapped in, you leaned up against the glass as Steve shook his head and chuckled. “I’m serious! I thought you were going to leave us.”

“After all you guys have done for me?” he smiled. “I don’t think so.”

As if on cue, all the cells suddenly opened, and you hesitated before stepping out. You could see Scott next to you, looking around the room in awe, with Sam rushing out to excitedly punch Steve’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d come back.” Sam grinned, and Steve smiled as he reached out to squeeze Sam’s shoulder. You looked into the cell next to you, and gasped when you noticed Wanda was trapped in some sort of jacket, presumably to prevent her from using her powers.

“Wanda, are you okay?” you asked, opening her jacket to free her. She sighed, stretching her arms out, swirls of red appearing at her fingertips.

“I am now.” she responded, and you grinned as Clint appeared behind you.

“Come on,” Steve called all of you. “We better get a move on before we get caught.”

Grabbing Wanda’s hand, you pulled her up, and everyone rushed to follow Steve out of the room.

--

Natasha,

We kinda left things unattended to the last time we saw each other. Sorry I had to fight you. But you know it was not you I was fighting: it was what you were fighting for.

Is that the same thing? Maybe. I don’t know.

But I miss you, and I want things between us to be okay again.

y/n.

“I wouldn’t bother sending that.” a voice piped up behind you, and you flinched startled.

“Jesus, Steve,” you muttered, angling your phone and texts away from him. “Didn’t anyone teach you it was rude to be nosy?”

“Sorry,” Steve shrugged sheepishly. “I just saw Natasha’s name, and… well… I’ve been trying to contact ever since the fight at the airport, but to no avail.”

“Maybe she’ll answer to me.” you said hopefully, and Steve shook his head.

“That’s not it, y/n.” Steve leaned forward. “I don’t think she’s at the Avengers Tower with Tony. She’s on the run.”

“Why?” you asked, startled.

“She helped me at the airport.” Steve informed you, and your mouth dropped open. “She shot T’Challa instead of me, and let Bucky and I escape.”

“And Tony must’ve found out.” you finished Steve’s thought, and he nodded. “That explains things -- she’ll be running away from the authorities.”

“I’ve been trying to track her down, but I can’t. She’s probably out of the country.” Steve sighed, defeated, and you frowned and deleted your text.

“What now, then?” you asked, and Steve ran his hands through his hair.

“Well, Clint wanted to go see his family.” Steve said quietly, and you scoffed.

“You’re joking, right?” you snickered. “We just broke out of a high security tower in the middle of the ocean. People are going to be looking for us, and that’ll be the first place to look for Clint.”

“I know, but he needs to see them.” Steve insisted, and you sighed. “It’ll be a quick visit, then we’ll find somewhere to lay low and figure out what to do.

“It’s a bad idea.” you muttered under your breath. “But then again, I guess we’ve got nothing else to do.”

--

“Daddy!”

A child’s voice rang out from the living room, and you quietly closed the door behind you as you saw Clint’s children rush towards him. He tightly embraced them as Laura ran towards him from the kitchen, joining in on the embrace. You and Steve exchanged sad smiles as you watched the family reunite, when a figure suddenly appeared from behind Laura.

“Nat?” your eyes widened, and Natasha gave you a tired smile. Before she could speak up, you rushed towards her and flung your arms around you. Natasha hugged you back tightly, burying her face into your shoulder as you whispered, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Hiding out here.” she responded, and Sam looked around.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Isn’t this place a little…”

“Obvious?” Natasha shrugged as the two of you pulled away. “I was relying on that.”

“Hiding in plain sight.” you quietly said to yourself, and Natasha nodded.

“Besides,” Natasha shrugged. “If anyone came looking for me, I know how to hide. And Laura has been absolutely great, letting me hide out here.”

“You might have to make room for more.” Steve shot Laura an apologetic smile, and Laura shrugged.

“Anything for you guys.” she nodded firmly, and everyone smiled gratefully at her. Sitting at the dining room table, the group sighed as they looked between one another. The group they had once been, the group they had once considered family, was now broken, and everyone was feeling a little bit lost.

“We have to fix this.” you said, and Wanda nodded in agreement.

“You guys are all I have,” Wanda confessed quietly. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

“We’ll have to talk to Tony.” Steve tapped his fingers on the table, and everyone looked at him in surprise.

“Didn’t he, like, try to kill you though?” Scott asked uncertainly, and Steve shrugged.

“If we want this group to work out, we have to make amends with Tony.” Steve insisted, and everyone nodded silently. “Besides, maybe he’ll be a bit open minded.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” Sam asked, and Steve looked up at him. What if it didn’t work? What if the almighty Avengers, who had always fought alongside together, were finally done for.

Steve stood as he mustered up his answer. “It has to work.”

--

The group stood in front of the Avengers tower, all disguised in regular, plain clothing. You stood next to Natasha, who looked agitated. You reached for her hand, and you felt her stiffen, before she relaxed and squeezed your hand.

“Scared?” you asked, and she smirked.

“Of course not.” she replied, and the both of you chuckled. “Don’t you know me at all, y/n?”

“Ready, guys?” Steve’s voice filled your head from the earpiece you were wearing, and you turned to your left to nod at Steve. He nodded in response, and he said, “Alright, let’s go in.”

Taking a deep breath, the team headed inside the Avengers tower, uncertain about the fate of their disbanded family.

[lykanthropa]

No Homo, Bro

Scout is shocked when he learns that Medic is gay. When he tells him during a conversation that Scout is not his type anyway, the runner feels challenged. He is a sex bomb and no one can resist him. Not even Medic. And so he begins with the art of seduction

Art of seduction

“Pants down.” “D-does this really have to be?” “This is not your first time.” “Yeah, but…” “Don't make always such a fuss! Pants down.” “Can I first-“ “No! The hell, Scout!” The boy flinches at Medics's angry voice. He is standing in front of the older man in his underpants, but he simply cannot expose himself in front of him. Of course, it's nonsense to be ashamed of a doctor. This is as natural as... as... … … … … … Scout cannot come up with an idea. Medic sighs loudly. “Always the same with all of you... Come to my infirmary, cry around, you need my help and then you behave like chaste virgins when it comes to undress. I thought you'd hurt your penis. Then it's probably in your interest that I look at it.” “I just didn't hurt it... I broke it!” Medic laughs loudly. “I doubt that. If so, you would not be standing in front of me now. How was that supposed to happen?” “………” “What?” “I er... have my... baseball bat bound to my... penis...” “Speak louder, Bengel.” Scouts face turns completely red. He clenches his hands into fists and pinches his eyes tightly shut as the embarrassing confession bubbles out of his mouth. “Iboundmybaseballbattomypenis! …okay? When it was…erected.” Medic looks at him for a moment; and then breaks out into laughter. “Why did you do that? Did you want to push it up? Or measure it?” “Yeah… Don’t know…” Medic wipes the tears from his face, his laugh just die away slowly. Offended Scout crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Get finished already.” “I'm sorry Scout, but this is your own fault. How do you get such ideas? You should think that as a mercenary you don't have the time to get on such puberty thoughts. And that your penis cannot hold the heavy bat even in the erect condition, you should have known this. But what I always say; you never stop learning.” “Yeah, yeah…” “So, and now pants down. I want to take a look at it.” But again Scout hesitates. “Scout, I'm your team doctor. Your closest confidant. In this room, I am your best friend and what happens in here, remains here. Showing me your intimate area is completely natural. As natural as if your mother sees you naked.” The runner gets red again, his eyes widen in horror. “You don't do it any better, Doc!” “Come on. Make an effort. Now I just look at it. But as soon as you come in a certain age, you also need a prostate examination.” “What is that?” “I push a finger into your anus and examine tension of the sphincter, mucous membrane of the rectum, and size and condition of the prostate.” The horror is written in Scouts' face. “Are you also doing this with the others? Are you gay?” Medic is aghast. “First: yes, I do it with the others. Second: this has nothing to do with homosexuality.” “Hmm... And er... how do the others find that? I mean... how do they react when you insert... your finger... in there...?” “That is different. Some of them make a fuss, for others it's not a problem. Spy, for example, enjoys the palpate. And Demoman had even ejaculated.” “Why?!?” “When the prostate is touched, a man is sexually stimulated. Didn't you know that? Well, you're still a virgin. So that’s alright.” “I’m not a virgin!” “Sex dolls don't count.” Scout gasps. “W-where did you know this?!” “………” “I-I mean… That’s not true!” “Anyway. Even if that were true, you are still a virgin. A person is always virginal in two ways. Only when you has made experience with both sexes you has lost your innocence.” “…but… homosexuality is not normal.” “Why?” “Well...” Scout tries desperately to find a reason. Medic can only shake his head. “I am 30 years older than you. I have seen and experienced a lot. I was also young.” “I can’t believe that.” “Believe it. If I have learned one thing about humans, then that they are excellent guinea pigs and that they are nothing but animals. And what is more natural than nature?” “What do you mean? Animals don't do any homosexual activities.” “Oh yes. They do.” “You’re kiddin’ me.” “Not at all. In addition, there are species of animals in which the males bear the offspring.” “How is that supposed to work?” “Nature is a mystery. In humans there is even relactation in men.” “And what is that?” “The production of milk.” “………” Scout doesn't understand. But Medic disabuse him gladly. “Men can breast-feed.” Scouts jaws open up. He stares at Medic with wide eyes and a disbelieving glance. “Well, it gets better. There are even men who can become pregnant. However, they have a certain prehistory. Well, that's another story. Scout?” “I think… I have to lie down…” The boy is leaning with an arm on the operating table beside him. “Now don't make such a fuss. If all these things are possible, then it is only natural. Thanks to science, we have this knowledge. Be grateful for that. We live in a progressive age.” “Well, I don’t know if I should be happy about it... But I think you are only scaring me.” “Believe what you want. But now pants down!” Medic grabs Scout's boxer short and pulls it with a jerk from his hips. “Aaaahhhh! Doc! What the hell!?“ “Was that so hard now?” The boy turns his crimson head aside, staring rigidly at the wall. “Hmm…” Medic straightened his glasses. “It doesn't look particularly hurt. Are you still in pain?” “…no.” “Are you sure?” “Cannot you just take your beam gun and straighten it?” “Why should my Medigun be used when you have no pain?” “………” “You know, she cannot make it bigger.” Scout facepalm himself. He pulls up the boxer short in no time at all, graby his clothes and whispers excitedly: “Forget it. It was not so bad after all…” And so he storms out of the infirmary. “This Bengel…”

On the same evening, Medic and Heavy play chess in the common room. Scout and Pyro sit a few meters on the old couch and watch TV on the small apparatus. Scout looks at the TV with his eyes, but his ears are with Medic and Heavy. On the chessboard are only three game figures. Medic's White King and Pawn are blocked by Heavy's Black King. There is neither a forward nor a backward. “I can't believe it... For many years I've been playing chess, but I've never had a stalemate. Very good, Heavy. You are getting better and better” praises Medic his friend. “Thank you, Doktor.” “Are you finished already? It took a long time" gripes Scout, without taking the view from the TV. “Do you wanted to play, too?” “No? I’m not a grandpa after all.” “What does that have to do with it?” “Chess is an old people game.” Now the runner looks to the two who look at him with raised eyebrows. “As you may suppose, Bengel.” “Hmpf!” Engineer enters the room and announces that the dinner is ready. On the way to the dinner room, Medic is taken aside by Spy. “At a word, Medic?” “Of course.” “Is everything alright, Doktor?” “Yes. Go ahead, Heavy. We'll come right away.” “You too, Scout.” “Why? Do you have secrets?” “Immediately” Spy orders. The runner twisted annoyed his eyes and follows Heavy, towards the dining room When they are out of sight, Spy clears his throat. “What can I do for you, my friend?” “Jeremy was with you in the infirmary today.” “Yes, he was. And?” “Well, after visiting you ‘e was kind of different. Slightly distracted. Uncertain.” “I can very well imagine that.” “You didn't get too close to ‘im, did you?” For a moment, Medic looks at Spy skeptically. “What do you mean by that?” “I um…” “You think I would throw myself at your son? Is that what you want to tell me?” ��Docteur, I…” “Do you want to explain to me that just because I'm homosexual, I make a pass at your son? That I consider him as fresh meat? Do you really want to give me credit that? I don't need to lay hands on a 30 years younger boy. Especially if it is the son of one of you. Sure I have my needs. You know very well that I call then for Heavy or Demo. Do you understand? Men.” Spy massages his temples. “I’m really sorry Docteur. I didn't want to ascribe you anything like that. It's just... I'm just feeling as if Jeremy is constantly searching for your proximity.” “And what do you conclude from it? That he might have fallen in love with me? I can imagine how he would react, if he should find out that I am gay. Since I can hardly imagine that he himself feels so. However, there are many people who pretend to be heterosexual, but inwardly wanting to become intimate with one's own gender. Is this what you fear?” “Of course not! I would be even proud of ‘im if he was gay. But I just don't want him to be intimate with someone who is so much older than ‘imself.” Medic sighs and puts a hand on Spy's shoulder. He even makes a smile. “Spy, as for that, you don't have to worry. I would never put a hand on him. For me, he is something like a son. He is the common son of this team. Our nestling. Besides, I'm the doctor. I don't want you any harm. This also applies to Scout.” Now Spy also smiles. It is a relieved smile. “I'm sorry Docteur. I should ‘ave known better.” “It's okay. He is your son. With this behavior, you prove that you love him and are concerned about him. You're a good father.” “Merci. But tell me, why was he so distracted after his visit with you?” “I told him only a few sobering things. I brought him the reality a little closer. Can you believe that? He didn't even know that there is relactation in men.” “I don't want to know ‘ow you came to this topic.”

After the dinner, Medic takes Heavy's hand and both go to the infirmary. There is Medic's bedroom. In front of the double door, Medic presses Heavy against the wall and kisses him hot-blooded. The Russian accedes with just as much enthusiastic. “So it is okay for you?” asks Medic and strokes his fingertips over Heavy’s crotch, where a clear bump is already palpable. “Da, Doktor…” Heavy grabs Medics buttocks with his big hands and pulls the doctor closer to him and then they kissing passionately. “What the hell is that crap?” Suddenly, Scout stands in front of them and looks at them with eyes wide. The boy is aghast. “Wait, what? You are gay?!” Medic sighs. “Scout, you can grin stupidly or make a disgusted face, but please do me a favor and don't say a word.” “…no homo, bro.” “I knew it…” With his hands raised Scout backs off, until he has gone around the corner. Medic sighs again. “Scout is silly baby. Does Doktor still is be up for sex?” “But sure, Heavy. Let's go to my bedroom.” Sure Medic still wants to sleep with Heavy, but he will not be able to prevent him from ever thinking that where Scout saw it now, that it would be hard with him in the future.

And indeed Scout avoids him the next day. He does not talk to him and he does not look at him either. He also does the same with Heavy. When they sit together for lunch at the dining table, exactly what Medic had thought happens. “Hey, guys. Did you actually know that Medic and Heavy are faggots?” It becomes quiet at the table. Only Soldier says: “I knew it!” But the others don’t go into it. “Have you nothing to say?” “We know that Medic is queer.” “What?! You know it? And you just tolerate that?” “There's nothing to it” says Engineer. “So you're probably gay too? Are you all gay, or what?” “Shut up!” Spy orders in the stern tone. “We are a team. That's all that counts. And if that a problem for you, then go back to your mama.” “………” “Grow up!” “Pah…! Great Team…” Medic hears all this quietly. He likes the boy and he does not want anything between them. But it all depends entirely on Scout. “Medic and Heavy are miserable fags. I can't be bothered.” Scout gets up from the table and leaves the room. The rest of the team eats on, as if nothing had happened. However, no one says a word anymore until they finish their meal. Med would prefer talking to Scout, but he decides that it would be better to leave the boy alone for a while. Some things just get back on their own. And that he would react so, was indeed foreseeable. But Medic did not want implicate Heavy in there. Only because of Scout, Medic had secretly met alternately with Heavy and Demoman, to get intimate with each other. Secretly, so this cannot happen. At least Demo is not dragged in.

All day long the runner doesn't put in an appearance. But in the evening both meet in the corridor. Scout seems to be on his way to the toilet and Medic is on his way to the infirmary. Scout looks straight ahead, wants to avoid any eye contact as much as possible. But as they walk past each other, he hears the younger one says: “No homo.” Medic is clear that he would say this to Heavy every time, too. And the native German does not want to accept this. He whirls around to Scout, grabs him by the arm and drags him into the infirmary against his will. “Let me go! No homo! NO HOMO! Help! Rape!” “I've had enough!” Medic drags him through the double door and pushes the boy to the center of the room and plants himself in front of Scout, his arms akimbo. “Now listen to me, you Bengel. I don’t care the way you call me. But dare you to do that with Heavy. He can do nothing for my inclination. He is not homosexual.” “Are you kiddin’ me? He was making out with you!” “I sleep with men because I like it. And Heavy gets himself into it because he is a man and also has his needs. After all, there are no women here. It's for us both only sex without any feelings. It often happens that heterosexuals sleep together. In prisons and in the army especially frequently.” “How can they live with it? I mean the heteros?” “As I said. It's just sex. Except for a few differences, there are no deviations from the male and female body.” “I would never do such a thing!” “You don't have to. Everyone decides for himself.” “………” “You know, it does not matter to me how you're doing it for you now. But I'll tell you one thing. If you don't stop treating Heavy differently than before, then you'll have big trouble with me. And believe me. It will not be fun.” “You cannot ask me to accept that after I just learned this yesterday. God! You saw me naked! Hasn't that aroused you?” “You have no choice but to accept it. Otherwise you must go back to your mother. And no. Your naked body did not really aroused me.” “………” “People who react like you are afraid of being tease by people like me. If this is your fear, I can take it from you. You're not my type, and you're too young.” “What do you mean, I'm not your type?” Medic gives the boy a skeptical look. “Hey! Don't understand it wrong! I am not gay! But... I'm sexy. I'm a sex bomb!” “Who told you this?” “………” “Go now. I have to work. And remember what I told you.”

Without a word Scout leaves the infirmary. Shocked, distracted... but also indignant. What did he mean, I'm not his type? I always thought gays would like all men. I am also a man! A good looking man. A sex bomb! Oh, wait, old man. I'm going to turn your head. Not aroused by my naked body. Pah! Straight ahead, the runner makes his way to the library. Actually, he wanted to get ready for the bed, because he was quite down. But now he has a task. A mission. The mission to seduce the old man (but not because he is gay, but to prove that homosexuals like all men.) And there will surely be a guidebook. The library contains about 150 to 200 books. Books, about battles and strategies. Medical books (Scout can remember how Spy had once asked Medic why these medical books are not in the infirmary so that the German always has them at hand when he needs them, and Medic replied that he did don't need them, he has all the knowledge in his head, and they only stand in the library, so that others can always get a look there, but they are quite bored and somecontain really nauseating pictures.) And some adventure books are also there , novels with romantic and uncanny content. Books about technology and plants. Many different books, but none about seduction. Who actually decided which books mercenaries read and which not? Well, surely no one has come to the idea that under the Mercs once homosexual acts would take place.

The next morning, Scout wakes up very early. He feels a squeeze in his back and pulls out a book under himself. At first he cannot explain what it is and how it came into his bed. But then he remembered. He was in the library late yesterday night and had been looking for a book about seduction. And actually found one (Who'd have thought that?) Immediately the boy is light-headed and flick through the sites hastily. Yesterday he was too tired for it. The thin book is divided into 7 chapters. “Hmm… Chapter 1… Don’t be pitiful. What does that mean? I'm not pitiful. I can skip this chapter.” When Scout wants to go to the second chapter, he pauses briefly. Memories awaken in him. Memories, where he had cried and called for his Ma. And everyone saw him. Even Medic. Is this the reason why he doesn't find him appealing? Below the first chapter is written: To appear needy and seduce someone close each other out. The more desperate you are, the less attractive you are to others. Even if you feel helpless, don't give in to this feeling. If you want to seduce a special person, try to show careless behavior. Show yourself a little light-hearted: do something risky or unexpected, so you remain a little mysterious. “Well, that should not be too difficult. But what can I do that is risky and unexpected at the same time?”

“Scout? Are you smoking?” In the corridor, Medic meets Scout, who is leaning against the wall and loosely holds a cigarette in his mouth corner, the hands in the pockets. “Oh, hey Doc. *cough*” With all his might, the boy does not try to cough. It's the first time he smokes and he hates it. But if he can impress Medic with it, it's worth it. But he doesn't look very enthusiastic. On the contrary. He pulls the cigarette out his mouth. “Since when do you smoke? Smoking is risky and I'm surprised that you start now with it.” “So that came unexpectedly for you? *Cough*” “Yes, indeed.” “Then that's the right thing. *Cough cough*” Scout takes Medic the cigarette away and put it back in the mouth. “What the…?! Give it back!” Medic takes Scout the cigarette away again. “No smoking here!” “There you are, you little thief!” Sudden, Spy stands next to the two and takes Medic the cigarette away. “Keep away from my cigarette case in the future!” He puts the cancer stick into his mouth, but Medic does not want to accept it, either. He also takes away the cigarette from the Frenchman. “That applies to you, too! No smoking here! I've told you a thousand times!” Scout observes the situation. He couldn't impressed Medic, but he is not depressed at all, because he is able to see how Spy is scolded by Medic.

Chapter two: Relax The more you feel comfortable, the better the other person will feel in your presence, and the more receptive he/she will be to your seduction. “I should relax? Nothing easier than that.”

Scout grabs his baseball bat and goes outside to hit a few balls. This is what relaxes him most. And then everything else pass him. Also, where he hits his 13th ball. Directly to the window of the infirmary. The ball hits the windowpane with a loud clash. The runner froze. For a moment, time seems to stand still. Then… “SCOUT!”

Chapter three: Be in high spirits Smile. Touch. Be silly. People like to have a good time, so do not be too serious. Have fun with the person. Enjoy the time. People with a relaxed attitude are more attractive. Humor is another important aspect of your personality that plays a role in how attractive you are to others. Be able to laugh at yourself. Show that you cannot take quite serious criticism with a smile. Because if you are teasing other people (and you should, because exuberance is attractive), then you should be able to take a joke, too. “Hmm… Humor is indeed a part of my personality. And I also like to stultify others.”

Scout pay a visit to the warehouse, where the team keeps all their hats and grab the one that looks the most ridiculous. The potassium cap, a large banana-shaped hat and out it on. Then he detects Medic in the common room, where he and Heavy play chess again. Scout creeps up on Medic from behind. They don't notice him because they are deeply absorbed in their game. “Surprise!” He loops Medic from behind an arm around his shoulder and pressed his cheek to the doctor's. He was just about to make a move and with shock he sweeped two chess pieces from the board. “Hello there, fagots. Hey, Doc. Have you ever noticed that you have ears like an elf? Hahahaha! So spiky. You only need an elf costume and you are qualify as an elf. Hahahahaha!!” Cloudy glances rest on the boy. “H-hey! That was just a joke! Just fun, just fun!” “What do you want, you Bengel?” “Nothing special. Just wanted to check out what you are doing here.” Scout solidifies his embrace. But instead of feeling attracted, Medic seems rather irritated. “We are playing chess…” “I see.” Silentness prevails between the three. “…um… don't want you say something to me?” “Da! Why is Scout still here?” “No, I mean... Don’t want you to insult me... or something like that?” Medic and Heavy exchange glances. “Why should you want that? Has this something to do with your headdress?” “I want to prove to you that I can also laugh about myself.” “Oh? Normally, you always laugh about others. I hardly believe that you have the certain maturity to be able to take a joke.” “Oh, c’mon! Just try it!” “Leetle Scout is small, stupid and cheeky.” “Yeah, yeah. That’s me.” “You're messy, loud, annoying.” “Well, what am I to say?” “Scout has buckteeth.” “………!” “And although you are almost 23 years old, you are still not out of your pubertal behavior. Is that not embarrassing to you?” “……….” Scout has to admit that he feels a bit offended. And he feels dumb. Probably he is not ready yet. Next chapter... But before he goes back to his room, he mumbled a sorry.

Chapter four: Do not always be accessible People like being together with other people who are doing exciting and interesting things in their lives because they are happy about someone sharing their precious time with them. So what do you arrive if you try to reach them or talk to them  continuous? Nothing. Therefore, you should not try to spend your time with the other person constant, but to form the relationship slowly. “Does that mean I should ignore Doc now? Hmm…”

Successful Scout can avoid Medic. He does not speak to him and he does not even look at him. But there is a situation where Medic is carrying a heavy, overcrowded box and a book is falling out, and no one is near, except Scout. “Ah, Scout. Would you be so kind and help me?” With his hands in his pockets, Scout looks down at the book, disinterested. “Scout, please.” “Sorry Doc. I have to take a look at my calendar first. We'll defer it until later, okay?” So the runner turns his back to the doctor and cannot help but smile. So far, he had carry out the instructions every chapter in the book. Soon Medic would have fallen for his charm.

Chapter five: Use your body language effectively Radiate with your movements self-confidence. Most people do not feel attracted by wallflowers but by people who are confident. Do not forget to smile and if possible make body contact if it is appropriate and not too obtrusive. Use your body language to flirt. If you are not a Goethe or a Schiller when dealing with words, you must not be afraid. You can send subtle signals to the people you want to win for you, depending on the social situation. Do not be afraid to touch the shoulder or arm of your opponent when you speak to him/her. Use eye contact when flirting. Eyes are incredibly powerful tools, so use them wisely. Watch your date in the conversation. For there is nothing more to cry for self-confidence than a deep look into the eyes of your counterpart. “What the hell is a Goethe and Schiller? Hmm… Body and eye contact. That should be not difficult. And I am not a wallflower at all!”

Scout waits until Medic returns from the toilet. He stood impatiently at the door. He has works a few words out which he would like to say to Medic. But he's quite nervous And then the door opens. Scout loses no time, stands directly in front of the doctor and stares into his eyes (he has to stand on tiptoes). Medic is freeze. Scout interprets this as a sign that he does everything right. Eyes are incredibly powerful tools. This really seems to be right. “Scout…?” “I have to tell you something, Doc.” “Yes, please?” “Roses are red, violets are blu... er...” Scout stares into Medic's eyes and misses completely that his opponent feels quite uncomfortable. “I would never have thought I'd say that once, but you're slowly becoming eerie, you Bengel.” “You probably do not like poems, do you? Well then uh…” Scout is actually a conversational genius, but only when it is spontaneous. But in this situation it is difficult. He really wanted to give him only this poem, but he is so nervous that he has forgotten half of the text. And now he has to say something else. But he does not know what to say to him, so he still stares at him. And besides don't speak glances louder than words? Medic looks uncertain back and forth. “Ah, Heavy. Could you help briefly?” “What’s wrong with Scout, Doktor?” “I don’t know it either. Could you take him to the side so I can finally get back to my work?” “Da, Doktor.” Scout is taken from behind under the arms, uplifted and put aside. “Thank you, Heavy.” Such an embarrassing crap... Next chapter.

Chapter six: Do not be like an open book Keep some things secret. You should not share every detail of your life directly with the other person, because secrets are always attractive. By doing this, other people notice that they do not know everything about you and this mystery gives you a seductive aura. Resist the urge to tell the other person your whole life story, especially nothing about your parents. This is not to say that parents are not great, but they are not very seductive. If you are forced to tell something about yourself, give up only vague details and do not go into too much detail. You can explain where you come from, how you grew up and what your plans for saving the world are, but keep it in conversation and do not tell a long, long composition. “My Ma is very seductive. Otherwise, Spy would not always be after her... Why shouldn’t I tell him about her? Medic is gay. He will not be interested in her. Hmm... I'm supposed to remain mysterious. My plans for saving the world? Well, we all save the world because we make sure that Gray Mann with his robots does not get the power over Man Co. So it's nothing new. And I always hated compositions anyway. Hmm…”

“Hey, Doc.” “What do you want again, you Bengel?” “Do you want to know what I'm hiding behind my back?” “No idea… Your baseball bat to crash another window of mine?” “No. And you know what? I won't tell you. This is my secret.” “Aha…”

Chapter seven. The last chapter. Be patient Wait until the other person's desire for you has reached the same level as your desire for them. You should believe that it is only a matter of time until someone realizes what an incredible person you are. If you do not agree, you will not be able to seduce anyone. For it is a fact that we naturally feel attracted to people in whose presence we feel comfortable, which make us laugh and a little out of our reach (because the unknown is exciting). This is the essence of man. “That mean, I should just wait until Medic throws himself at me? After all the things I did, he must have finally realized what an incredible person I am. He can no longer pretend that I'm not a sex bomb! I know he wants me!”

So Scout is waiting. He waits for Medic to come and confess to him that he wants his body. But he waits in vain. He always stays close to him, but he does not pay any attention to him. It's almost as if nothing had ever happened. Everything is, as always. As if Scout had never made a fool of himself. That hurts. And he gets angry. After days of waiting, Scout rushes into the infirmary. Medic is sitting at his desk, writing something. He looks up as Scout rushes through the double door, goes to his desk and tears apart his t-shirt in front of him. Perhaps that is the only language that these homosexuals understand. But Medic looks calmly at him. “Do you have chest pain, Scout? Can't you breathe?” This makes Scout even more angry. With a strong momentum he sweeps everything from the desk and lays himself on it. “Come on! Take me! That’s what you want, isn’t it?” “………” Medic straightened his glasses before answering calmly. “Scout, should I have offended you or even sent you wrong signals, I'm sorry.” “………” “Come. Sit up.” Medic takes Scout's hand and helps him up. The boy now sits quietly in front of him on the table and avoids looking at Medic. “Now tell me what's going on in you.” “………” “Do you like me?” Scouts face turns red and he lowers his head. “I must say it was really cute of you, as you tried to catch my attention.” “You do noticed?” “Of course. That was obvious. Even though many things have surprised me.” “Well… I've tried to seduce you.” “So it was the art of seduction.” Medic laughs. “What's so funny? I've made myself a completely fool.” “Who told you to do that?” “I read it in a book.” “In a book…?” “From the library.” “Oh, you mean this book.” Medic laughed again. Scout feels very unpleasant. “This book is nothing like junk.” “Oh, no no. On the contrary. The things described in it are already correct. However, you seem to have easily misunderstood everything in it.” “Whatever… It was all in vain anyway.” “But why did you want to seduce me? I thought you don't like homosexuals?” “…before I learned of your inclination, I often sought your closeness. I don’t know why either. I suddenly wanted to be near you. I thought maybe... maybe the bond of our friendship became stronger. But now that I know you're gay, I realize slowly that I've fallen in love with you...” “There, there. That's not a reason to cry.” “I don’t cry...?” But after Scout had said this, he felt the hot tears on his cheeks. “You're really a sweet Bengel.” “Why do you always call me like that? What does it mean anyway?” “Bengel means naughty boy.” “I’m not a boy. And I’m not naughty.” “But you are” says Medic with a charming smile. “And besides, if you take the B away, the Bengel becomes Engel.” “And what DOES it mean?” “Angel.” Scout looks at Medic with wide eyes. He puts a hand on the back of his head, pulls him down to himself and gives him a kiss on his forehead. “Don't fall in love with me. Don't fall in love with anyone from here. Save your love for someone out there, for whom you don't have to be dislocate. You are still so young, and you’ve still got all your life in front of you. You’re an attractive boy. I'll bet you'll fall in love often. And then into someone who is not quite as old as I am.” A shy smile appears on Scout’s face. “Thanks, Doc.” “Why don’t you go to Heavy in the weights room? Lift some weights together. Besides, I think you still have something to say to him.” “Yeah… B-but shouldn't I help you clean up?” “I will do that. Go now. But take a new T-shirt first.” “Roger that. See ya.”

When Scout left the infirmary, Medic begins to put the things back on his desk. At this moment, Spy makes himself felt. “Ah, Spy. So you've heard everything?” “Of course. I didn't miss the fact that Jeremy ‘as behaved very strange in the last few days. And now I know why.” “Then you didn't miss the fact that I turned him down.” “In point of fact, no. You told ‘im not to fall in love with someone ‘ere. Doesn't that count for you, too?” “I don't know what you mean. I'm not in love with someone.” “It's obviously that you love not only Heavy's body.” “I have sex with Demo too, you know?” “Sure, but only so Heavy doesn't notice anything about your feelings for him. Demoman is nothing else but an alibi, a distraction. If you only wanted to sleep with Heavy, the Russian would be suspicious.” “………” “Be that as it may. It still worries me that he ‘as fallen in love with a so much older man.” “Well, there are two possible speculations. Either, I am so attractive that even boys like Jeremy fall for my charm. Or he suffers from a daddy issues.” There is a certain sharpness in Medic's voice. And Spy notices this. “Even though I hardly believe that he will ever talk to you again, you should finally tell him that you are his father. But not now and not here. Do it when our job is done here. And do it with his mother. Because when he knows it, he will need a lot of support.” Spy nod lost in thought with his head. Then he turns around and leaves.

[poklina]

I guess this is sorta a continuation of eposide 2x10(but pretending simon clary relationship doesn't exist cause im in denial) but do you think you could write something where simon and jace talk a little more about the fact that jace basically risked his life saving simon and jace admits his feelings for simon

hey Friendo hows ur night? mines pretty good i hope you enjoy this mass of disgusting fluff pal

daylight--1.2k

The Institute smelled of burnt charcoal and ozone, like the way the air smells right before a thunderstorm, all metallic and harsh. People spoke in hushed voices as they milled around, checking off a list of the Downworlders laying on the floor, going to the infirmary to get their various wounds checked out, kneeling down and closing the eyes of the fallen Shadowhunters that dotted the Institute. It had been a couple hours since Valentine had been apprehended, but the sword was missing, and everyone that was available had already been dispatched out into the streets of New York to try and find it.

Simon sat on the steps outside, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his elbows as his eyes closed and his head tilted up towards the sun, letting the light was over him like it hadn't been able to for the past couple months. Simon had forgotten how nice it was to just be in the sun, as it glowed over his skin and sunk in to bones that had been too cold for too long. His mind was whirring with all of the possibilities this new ability lent him; he could go back to school, he could see his mom, he could be a regular person again.

Clary had gone back inside a couple minutes ago. Simon told her that he just wanted to "process" out here for a moment, and while that was mostly true, he also didn't want to go inside and face all of the dead laying on the marble floor quite yet.

"Simon, what are you doing!"

His eyes snapped open as his head whipped around toward the voice.  A flurry of legs, arms, and blonde hair were all he could see as whoever they were yanked him up and started dragging him towards the open doors. When he finally got his bearings and planted his feet on the ground, Simon saw that it was Jace, arm still bloodied from the last night.

"Jace, Jace, don't worry, I'm fine, I can be in the sun now!"

Jace's hands dropped from their place on Simon's shoulder, and he turned to look at him amazed.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I'm not burning! I only just found out and it's awesome because now I can stop living in the boathouse and hey, maybe I can help you guys with missions too, I know Clary would love that-"

"Oh. Okay. Well, sorry about that"

Jace breaks Simons rambling train of thought and starts to walk back inside. Simon feels like he should let him go, but there's something that he hasn't done yet.

"Wait, Jace!" He takes a step forward and grabs his bicep, and Jace immediately shakes him off.

"What?"

"It's just, ah. I never thanked you for risking your life for me."

"Yes, you did. We've been over this. Can I go now?" Jace is fidgeting like a kid, eyes darting up, down, and sideways but never meeting Simon's.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess I did. Well, uh. Thank you. Again. For that. And for this too, I guess."

Jace cocks his head, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, I drink your blood and now I can't get burned? Seems pretty convenient to me."

"Oh. Sure. You're welcome." He makes another attempt to escape, but there's one last question that's been nagging at Simon ever since Clary's face melted away and turned into his.

"Hey, Jace? I know this is kind of a weird thing to ask, and I really don't know if I even should ask it because it's like, really awkward but-"

"For the love of the angel Simon, spit it out." Jace has finally stopped looking everywhere but at him and now all Simon can see is the bright blue-brown of his eyes, and the dark circles underneath, and the red rims; so now Simon knows that this is a really bad idea but he's never been god with that whole "filter" thing and-

"Why you?"

Silence.

Jace doesn't break eye contact, but Simon can see how badly he wants to, in the way his fingers start to rapidly drum against his thigh.

"You know, it's just that Izzy could've done it instead-"

"Izzy wasn't there. I was the only one who could do it."

Simon is surprised by how shaky and uncertain Jace's voice is, but surprised even more by how strong it sounds at the same time. This is the tone of voice you use when you want someone to drop the subject.

But then again, Simon's never been very good at picking up social cues.

"Oh, okay. Well, you did a really great job acting like Clary. I mean, I thought you really actually cared about me, which I know is absolutely-"

"I do."

"-insane...wait, what?"

Jace looks like someone has just lifted a 20 pound weight off of his shoulders, and once he starts talking, it's like he can't stop.

"I do, Simon. I really, really do. I have for a long time, and I really didn't know what to feel so I just pushed you away because I was scared but then you helped Clary and I find Madzie and you sacrificed yourself for us so when Clary told Luke and I that you were hurt I knew, I just knew that it was my turn to save you so I made Clary draw the rune and when I saw you I couldn't think of anything and Simon please don't ever do that to me-us again because I meant it Simon. I meant it." He'd been running his hand through his hair incessantly and was back to doing that thing where he didn't look Simon in the eye and it looked like he was backing up, trying to escape this confession that he'd never meant to make.

For the first time in his life, Simon is truly speechless.

"And I know that you probably don't feel the same and this was a really bad idea to tell you but I had to and now I don't know what to do Simon please say something."

Simon feels like a fish out of water. How do you respond to someone that just confessed their feelings for you? Especially when you just got hit by a train that made you realize that you feel the same?

"Simon, please."

Jace is looking at him again, and those bright blue-brown eyes are filled with longing and pleading and desperation and Simon? Simon just does whatever he thinks he should.

Which is apparently lunging forward and pulling Jace's stupidly tall head towards his own and kissing him like he's never kissed before.

He feels Jace flail around him before he relaxes into in, sliding his hands against Simons shoulder blades and pressing against him.

They stand like this on the steps to the Institute until someone breaks for air, and even then they still cling to each other, muscles straining as they try to pull together a past that should've started much sooner.

"So uh. Thanks," Simon croaks out against Jace's throat, "for everything."

And so they stand there. Bodies pulled in tightly together, and as they start to kiss again because Jace's mouth is like crack because it's that addicting, Simon feels the warmth of the sun on his back and the solid heat of the body in front of him and he thinks that he hasn't felt this warm in so long.

Yea. He could get used to this.