#like I wish there was a way that I could be like ‘yo I’m formally reporting that some shady shit is happening- I wanna handle it peacefully’

[just-rogi]

I just had the single most uncomfortable phone call of my LIFE !!! Someone run my phone over with a TRACTOR and then SHOOT it with an GUN!!

[fleetingtemper]

when you get lost

possessive unhealthy behaviors! heavily implied yandere

SUNDAY

you were only supposed to be gone for a few hours, doing shopping around the dreamscape. of course, sunday would be damned if he didn’t assign designated oak family agents to closely accompany you all day. you are, after all, mr. sunday’s precious darling.

but he could only blame the incompetence of these agents for losing you. he will have to punish their families quite severely, he thinks to himself. this could only be an act of treason, sunday reasons.

his wings twitch in annoyance.

“i suppose any good pet returns to their master after they’ve realized what an unforgiving world we live in,” he muses

and would he be the head of the oak family if he wasn’t always correct?

there you were, shivering in his doorway, dripping like a wet puppy.

poor (y/n), he thinks. how likely of you to be entranced by street performers and wander off like a child. stars fill your eyes, struggling to take in all the gleaming lights. you are enchanted by these sights for quite some time, until you realize you are lost.

suddenly, the world wasn’t quite as beautiful.

you shakingly walk over to sunday, looking up at him through tear soaked lashes. he tsks before brushing your hair out of your face.

“my dear, how ever did you get lost?” his gloved hand caresses your hair. “i’m afraid i’ve been so careless with you,” how could he let you, a poor, stupid thing, leave his sights again?

“you worry me too much, my dear”

“i’m sorry—“

he pressed a finger to your lips

“as the head of the oak family, i must protect all of my citizens. including you.”

“you best not leave the estate at all.”

JINGYUAN

when jingyuan is informed of you never returning from your outing, he abandons the stacks of paper work at hand. he truly wonders if you just enjoy the punishment at this point.

you had fallen asleep at the base of a tree after a long day of entertaining friends and family. you just needed a break.

deep into your slumber, you felt a raindrop hit your face. groggily, you open your eyes to finally see rain puttering down upon your head. you curse silently before a loud clap of thunder surprises you. however, the thunder was quickly drowned out by the sound of hundreds of armor clanking towards you.

you rub your eyes, only to finally see yourself suddenly surrounded by cloud knights. your stomach drops. how long had you been asleep, you wonder anxiously.

oh no, jingyuan will be—

speak of the devil.

the cloud knights part to make way for the general himself.

the thunder crashing and downpour don’t feel as threatening now that he had shown up. and of course, with the lion.

he silently picks you up bridal style, and you do not dare fight it. you only just recovered your legs recently, after all.

“may i suggest that you take a nap in my sights next time?” ah, but he didn’t really mean that there would ever be a next time.

“yes, general.” you mumble

he gently, but firmly, takes your chin. “you need not maintain formalities, my love,”

“however, as your general, i do not wish to have to imprison you for high treason.”

your eyes widened. high treason?

he lowers his head until his lips are against your ears. “you are my spouse and it is your duty to be as such”

“you cannot absolve yourself of this duty for as long as the mara-struck live.”

VENTI

venti knew you were lost.

there was nowhere in mondstadt where you could ever wander off to where he wouldn’t know your every move. he admired your furrowed brow and how you chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. you were lost, indeed.

oh dear, it seemed as if you were about to walk through an area notoriously frequented by hilichurls and slimes. he thinks to himself that you’ll just have to learn your lesson.

he watches as the hilichurls take notice of you and alert the others.

he only watches as he watches one notch an arrow and lets it soar, narrowly missing, yet scraping your leg.

you yelp out in pain and he almost gets the urge to help you.

but maybe in a little while.

the anemo archon is amused by how you fumble to grasp your sword imbued with your (element) vision. he makes a face, revolted by the reminder of how one of his fellow seven had blessed you, his darling, with their power before he did.

finally grasping your sword, you swing at the hilichurls charging at you, knocking down a few. the pain in your leg makes it hard to fight but archons, you couldn’t afford to lose.

you stifle back groans as clubs bash against your unarmored back. you feel your head spinning from hours of dehydration and hunger.you swung violently at the monsters, not realizing the commotion your fight was causing.

how did that eye of the storm get there?

when you thought you had finished off the monsters, you felt a strong gust of wind knock you down. dirt and debris swirl around you, filling your lungs. you cough violently, eyes filled with fear at the storm in front of you. no way, you internally scream.

you reach for your sword but it is blown out of your weak grip several feet away. fuck, you had no option other than to crawl away.

just as you thought you were finished, an anemo imbued arrow soars past your head and right into the storm, dissipating it. you whip your head around to see venti, the drunkard bard you had befriended.

“are you alright, (y/n)?” he gazes at you worriedly. tears fill your eyes as you throw your arms around the bard, knocking him back onto the grass.

“t-thank you venti,” you hiccup, burying your head into his shoulder.

he rubs your bruised shoulder soothingly. blood stains his hands and he resists the temptation to taste you. how naive, he thinks.

to think you were so badly spooked by a little wind,

he couldn’t wait to see your reaction to dvalin.

[lanitalay]

A Winter Night Made Fire

Lucien x reader (he's not mated to Elain in this)

a/n: I really cant stop writing about wanting beron dead lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none, its a lil angsty but only if you squint

The days seemed longer. Whenever he was away they dragged on for ages. Time, so much time passed between each of his visits. You understood, somewhat. He was emissary, first for Spring, then for Night, now… Now you weren’t sure where he was or who’s agenda he was furthering.  

You used to travel too. Only a few fae know the real reason you stay in Winter, despite the bitter cold. Because of his newfound allegiance to the Band of Exiles, Lucien isn’t included in that list. 

It stings. Knowing that the last time you saw him was Starfall, six months ago. 

The letters you receive from home don’t mention him. Even if he wanted to write, he doesn’t know where you are. With a long breath you try to forget that you don’t know where he is, either. 

Azriel had sent  you here to monitor Autumn and Spring. You were to report any movement in the southern courts. Anything, no matter how trivial. So far you’d gathered that Beron was meeting with Tamlin once a month. Your sources say he leaves unhappy each time. 

The daylight in Winter is shorter than the rest of Prythian. Nights are incredibly long and, if no one is warming your bed, lonely as well. You spend as much time as possible reading correspondence, writing letters, coordinating meetings. Trying to stay one step ahead of them, of whatever it is that Beron is masterminding. It’s in the air. Whispers carrying rumors of unrest. 

It felt like the threat of conflict loomed in perpetuity on this land. The war with Hybern was less than three years ago. But Koschei… Lucien would probably be of use right now with his knowledge. 

But he wasn’t to be trusted. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

You know it's too late when you can’t see the moon from your window, so you clean up all of the precious information and place it in the scattered hiding spots in your room. Before closing the curtains, you look at the snow covered hills that seem to go on forever. If you hadn’t been looking at those same hills for months, you might think they are breathtaking. 

The next morning Vivianne greets you at breakfast with a smile. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” 

You touch your face, wondering if your exhaustion is that obvious. “I was up late reading, didn’t get much sleep at all.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I could say that you could rest, but we have a guest arriving today and Kallias asked if you could receive him since you already know each other, it might make him more comfortable to see a friendly face.”

You scrunch your brows, this was the first you’d heard of a visitor. “Who is visiting?” 

“Lucien Vanserra.” 

You take a beat too long to respond. “Oh.” 

“You do know him, don’t you? He’s also emissary for Night so I just assumed.” 

“Yes- yes, I know him. I just have not seen him in a while.” The Mother worked in mysterious ways. You could not tell her outright that Lucien was not necessarily part of the Night Court, or any court, without spoiling the opportunity to learn why. 

What did he want? Why did he leave? 

So an hour later you are by Kallias’ side as Lucien, whom you used to call yours, is escorted through the greeting hall. It's an encounter of stoic faces. Seemingly no one is particularly happy to be here. You go through the formal protocols with a gritted jaw. Both of his hands seem intact, he could have written. Sure, he didn’t know where you were but he could have asked. He could have given signs of life. 

“Thank you again for hosting me on short notice, but it is pertinent that we meet.” 

“Of course, would you like y/n to join us?” 

Without even glancing your way he says “no.”

You vowed to yourself you’d chew his head off later, when no prying eyes would see. It was only fair you sit out the meeting, you told yourself as you walked the length of the hall towards the library, your assignment is classified. As far as Kallias and Vivianne know, you are just an emissary. 

You see him again at dinner. Even though the food is delicious, you cannot stomach eating any of it. Not when he’s sitting across from you, the portrait of nonchalance. It surprises you when he breaks the silence. “Winter seems to suit you, y/n.” 

Stabbing his hands with your fork would be so easy, he’s right there… But no, you compose yourself before answering.

“Thank you, Vivianne and Kallias have been very gracious.”

“I wonder why Rhysand sent you here, doesn’t Morrigan usually handle emissary duties for this court?” 

You nudge him under the table. This was inappropriate conversation. “She does, but she’s been held up in the Continent for some time.” 

“Ah.” 

Vivianne speaks next. “Did you meet in the Night court?”

You answer before he can. “No.”

The High Lord and Lady look at you expectantly. “Well the first time we met was in the Autumn Court, when we were children. A lifetime ago, really.” 

“That’s right, I forget you are originally from Autumn.” 

“Lord y/l/n was a member of my fathers council.” Lucien clarifies.

“Were you friends back then?” Kallias asks, clearly trying to understand your dynamic. If only he knew how, for most of your life, Lucien was… You couldn’t bring yourself to even think about it. 

“I apologize, I’m not feeling well. I’m going to retire for the night.” You get up and Vivianne asks “what’s wrong?”

“I think the lack of sleep is catching up to me. I’ll be better by morning.”

When you reach your room, you know that trying to sleep is futile with the way your heart is beating. You pace around the bed as you try to calm down, try to find some peace. But knowing he’s most likely staying in this very wing, in this very hall… After being apart from him for so long- A knock at the door brings you back. You hope it's Vivianne but deep down you know it isn’t. 

He knocks again. You know he’ll knock all night if he has to. 

When you open the door he’s about to knock again, fist raised in a staunch effort. 

“What?” You roll your eyes as you say it, lips immediately falling in a flat line. He has the nerve to smirk before asking “can I come in?”

You step to the side and resist the urge to trip him as he walks. 

Torture, this distance between you is nothing short of it. He has been your most trusted ally, your best friend, on several occasions more than that… But six months and no word. That had never happened before. Not even when he was in Spring. Not even when Amarantha ruled.

“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” 

“How have you been?” 

Your arms cross over your chest as you widen your eyes at him. “Fine, now explain.” 

He sighs. “It will take a while.” 

“Then give me a summary.” 

He closes the distance between you slightly, so his words come out in almost a whisper. “We are working to overthrow Beron. I’m here securing the allegiance of the bordering courts. In the meeting Kallias agreed to support us and with that Beron is surrounded. We move next week.” 

You must have heard wrong. “What?”

“We are expecting little resistance from Autumn, most likely the few guards that Eris hasn’t been able to sway but they will be easy to defeat. We have the numbers, y/n. We could go home.”

Your hand juts out before you can think about what you’re doing. A clean slap lands across his face. In your ire you can’t feel bad about it. “Are you insane? You know who I receive my orders from. I must report anything I learn and I can promise you that Rhysand won't like that you disappeared to form a coup. Did you even think this through? Or did Eris persuade you?”

His hand is on his cheek as he waits for you to finish. 

“What support do you have from Spring? Huh? Tamlin in his beast form? And Winter? I know that the most they can offer is a few archery squadrons and Summer is too preoccupied with Adriata to even think about sending anything your way. So what exactly is your plan? Secrecy doesn’t seem to be a priority and a lot can happen in a week. It’s just like you to do this too. You’re gone for months and when you return it's for more court bullshit.”

“Are you done?” 

You huff and storm to the other side of the room, where the window overlooks the hills. 

“You know it was only a matter of time, y/n.” He’s standing behind you now, chin almost resting on your shoulder. 

“It’s dangerous Lu… and for what? What will change if Eris is High Lord? Everything else will stay the same.”

His head comes to rest in the crook of your shoulder and his arms begin to snake at your waist. “Things will change, slowly at first but they’ll change.” 

“Why do you want to go back? After everything that happened…” you can’t keep a coherent thought with him touching you like that.

“I’m tired of being an exile. I miss Autumn and its villages. I- they deserve better too.” 

“Why not ask Rhysand for help? Feyre would do anything for you and their numbers are better than all the southern courts combined-”

“This isn’t his battle. We don’t need his help and we certainly don’t need to be indebted to him.” Your hands tangle with his and you squeeze them, relishing the fact that he was here. 

“Come with me. Let's go home, y/n.”

Suddenly you cannot come up with a reason to say no. You miss Autumn too. The crisp air, the cinnamon flavored candies, the cabins that smelled of fire and apples and yams. Nothing felt like home, not really. You knew it had nothing to do with the land itself, but everything to do with the male wrapped around you. 

“I’ll go if you promise to stay by my side. Where you go, I go.” 

He chuckled. “You missed me that much?” 

You scoff. “Yes, you doofus.” 

“Where I go, you go.” He seals the promise with a kiss on your shoulder. 

You begin to melt. “I’m sorry about slapping you.” 

Lucien spins you in his arms so you are facing him. “It 's alright. I deserved it after disappearing on you like that.”

“You did. But I feel a little bad.” So you stand on your tip toes and his cheek, then the corner of his mouth and then his nose. 

He groans, heat biting at his fingertips. “Don’t tease.” 

You chuckle and give in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that quickly becomes desperate. 

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 5

RotTMNT x Reader

@phoebepheebsphibs is back depicting some aftermath in this week's chapter art!

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

HUGE shout out to @marwhoa for doing sensitivity reading!

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“Mikey.”

“Okay, so we knocked a ton of likely places out: The apartment. All the roads to it. That dumpling house they always order from. The outdoor coffee shop with the cute little plaza-“

“Mikey!”

“Where else? Where else?! We don’t have time!” Mikey launched himself toward the next building.

“We literally only have time!” Leo chased him. “You’re stuck with me. Meaning, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen!”

“Leo! Later! Literally any other time! I’m all ears or whatever Donnie always says we have, but not right now!”

“You weren’t ever going to tell Y/N?”

Mikey tripped over a ledge and somersaulted straight into an air conditioning unit.

Leo’s face appeared, nonplussed by the accident, and peered in through the opening of Mikey’s shell as an omnipresent knowing eye. “Ever?”

Mikey wished he could say no one was home, but he knew the moonlight would give away his gaze. “Leo, we-!“

“The others are all looking too. Take 10, chef.”

Coming up from his favorite nickname, Mikey pouted.

“Talk to me, hermano”

“It’s-!” Mikey opened his mouth to whine, but nothing came out. Hopeless, he sank back into his body, but his chin caught on the top edge of his plastron to keep from a full retreat. “There’s something wrong with me, Lee.”

Leo took a seat. “How’s that?”

“It’s like…” Guilt not only threatened to swallow him whole, but it also took his words. 

This was supposed to be his. 

He was going to keep these feelings locked away until he had time to deal with them. 

It was different, he told himself. 

Different than when his brothers tried to forget or compartmentalize. 

Mikey knew something was wrong. 

He acknowledged it near daily since meeting you. 

He also knew that sometimes someone needed the proper tools to deal with emotions. 

He needed information and he meant to look it up. 

He was planning to do so. 

He had forgotten.

He felt like a child. 

How many times had he made the distinction that he wasn’t the same as his brothers? 

He wasn’t a color to be mixed up. 

Feeling small, Mikey was struck with a memory of how Splinter had taught him how to give a formal apology. 

Placing his hands to the roof, he assumed a dogeza in hopes the appeal would reach his conscience. “How I feel… doesn’t feel like how you talk about your crushes. Or how Donnie does. Or Raph… Or Dad.. Or Barry! O-or anyone! It’s wrong. I’m wrong. I’m scared, Leo. That’s why I wasn’t going to bring it up! I don’t… It wasn’t supposed to go away! What if Y/N hates me? What will I do then?! What if I never see Y/N again!?”

“Hey, hey…! Woah there, bud…” Leo put his hand on Mikey’s carapace and rubbed; it was a circle Mikey had known since they were tots. “Slow down. How about we tackle one thing at a time? Think you can describe those feelings? Maybe let somebody else be the judge if they’re wrong or not?”

Mikey stared into the pebbled surface of the roof. “I… feel… nothing…? But I know I should. Like Y/N smiles and I feel like I should get this big warmth in my chest. It’s the kind of feeling that you get when there’s fireworks or a flower blooming or… metaphors! But… the feeling comes and I know I like it. It makes me feel good. To see Y/N happy. Oh man, Leo, you should have seen Y/N the first time I did. Y/N was… so scared… And-and I had this urge, like this, this was meant to be. I felt that! I felt that ‘at first sight’ feeling! Like, I can do this! This person needs me and I can be their person and I was! At least, I thought… I was. I eased in! I didn’t push because like, yeah, who am I to decide that? I always gave Y/N an out! Always! But then… that was it! Like I love you guys and I know that in my heart, but this is different, and then I look at Y/N and I feel… not that, a different thing, but it’s not not that. It’s like a step below how I feel for you guys and that’s not right because I know I feel more, or I think I feel more or…? I want… to… feel… more…?” In a warm drip, he felt the safe, non-threatening sort of tears dribble down his cheeks.

He rubbed a few of them away before checking on Leo.

His brother had open concern twisted on his features. 

Mikey agreed.

This was a mess.

Now he’d forced his brother into the mix. 

His whole family was sure to come next.

How many people were going to be struck by the fall out?

Donnie had a point.

Mikey never fully considered the repercussions of his actions.

He never did.

Wracked with more sobs, Mikey willed for what felt like the thousandth time that this confusion would end.  

“Ah! Don’t do that!” Leo rushed to scoop up Mikey’s shell and hold his little brother close. “Shit, Mike, that wasn’t me thinking you were wrong! You’re not broken. You’re not wrong. I’m sorry. That look was for me. I was upset I never noticed. I should have realized something was up. I saw you wigging out about your new sweetheart, but I figured you were excited. I was thinking, ‘boy, look at him, finally got his crush on. You go little bro!’ when I should have seen how you were forcing yourself. I should have…”

Mikey shook his head so violently it smacked Leo’s chin a few times.

The slider leaned away, but kept his hold.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing.” Leo returned to stare Mikey down.

“Then why… isn’t my heart working!?”

“Okay, first off.” Leo jammed a finger into Mikey’s pectoral scutes. “It is. You’re literally made of turtles, love, and sunshine. Your ticker is ticking a way in there. I’m no expert, but I don’t think this is a working, not working kinda thing, Mike.”

“How is that possible? There’s only the two options.” A few fat plump tears dripped down Mikey’s face and onto Leo’s shirt.

Leo made a face before digging into his side pouch and producing tissues. “We’ll figure this out. I think April would be a good person to start with, but first-“

“Y/N!” Mikey screeched, scrambled off of Leo, and headed to the roof’s edge where he looked out like a skipper on a boat. “Stupid, stupid! Why do I always forget?!”

Leo sighed. “Quit it with that degradation talk. A certain Dr. Feelings gets pretty pissy when I do it.”

“That’s different.” It really was. 

“Yeah, right!” Leo walked over and gently tapped his brother on the back of the head. “I’m here, you know that, right?”

“I know, Leo.” Mikey sent his brother an honest look.

Leo took it with a lopsided smile. “So… that pretty plaza was totally the next thing on the list, eh?”

“No!! We were just there, the next is-!” Mikey growled, knowing full well that Leo had goaded him on purpose.

-

“Y/N is alright. They’ve been deposited at their apartment.” Donnie’s voice crackled on the communicator.

“I’m going.” Mikey changed direction with a pivot of his foot.

“Uh, you sure?” Leo readied, clearly prepared for either a chase or interception.

“They’re tired Mikey. Let Y/N sleep it off and you two can have your talk on a date of both your choosing.” Donnie’s voice warbled with static.

“And why is it-!?” Mikey roared, spinning around and hating there wasn’t a specific place he could send his anger. “-that you know that?! Why were you with Y/N!? Why did you go to Y/N’s apartment?! What did you do?! Your tests!??!”

Leo loosely grabbed Mikey’s shoulders for a firm grip of solidarity. “Donnie, I can only hold him back so long. You gotta answer at least one of those. Mike’s earned it and you said, point blank, you were going to your lab. So, how is it that you ended up going to where they live? What’s the real haps?”

Donnie sighed. “I’m en route. Can you wait a few more moments?”

“How long?” Mikey was itching to get out of there.

He could see you.

He could fix this.

Tears brought clarity.

It was science Donnie had taught him.

“Now.” Voice cross fading into existence, Donnie flew in and walked into his landing.

He was too casual.

Mikey went through old training, focusing on each of his muscle groups in an attempt to keep from attacking.

Lashing out wasn’t reasonable.

Not yet.

Running into battle with pizzazz and no forethought was the stuff of teenagers.

“I know how this looks.” Donnie raised his hands. “I did lie. I went after Y/N while you all were trying to calm Mikey down.”

Leo threw his hands up both to release Mikey and to do a frustrated lap.

Years had taught the youngest of another route.

Now freed, Mikey let betrayal leak onto his face.

A low blow, he watched it strike Donnie.

The guilt displayed there was the only reason Mikey didn’t pounce. “What did you do?”

Wilting, Donnie lowered his hands along with his head. “I didn’t go after Y/N for… what I imagine you think is the usual reason is. I needed a clarification on something said. I didn’t pursue in peace; I tracked Y/N down for knowledge.”

Taking the information in with waves of warped features, Mikey gave an exhale with what felt like the last of his breath. “Where did you find Y/N?”

“The exit by 19th.”

Indignity flared without mysticism this time.

Mikey had burned up enough energy for one day.

The slight was still palpable.

It tried to trigger a response from his taxed powers.

On reserves, nothing manifested besides the usual toxic emotions.  

That was your exit.

That was the first place he looked. 

The one this person who supposedly hated you found you first.

Right there.

That meant you were right there.

Right where he’d stormed past thinking of all other places you could go.

Mikey missed it.

He’d missed you. 

“I…”

Through the silence, Mikey heard the guilt pile on through Donnie’s hesitation.

It was enough to make him think he’d spare a little mystic fire.

As a treat.

Mikey could almost hear Donnie’s teeth whine around his grimace “You didn’t miss Y/N by accident. We both heard you come through. I… may have hid Y/N away via the camouflage tarp. You know? The one I’d been testing from those mutant chameleon scales we picked up?”

“Why would you-!?” Mikey took a step forward and thought Leo might stop him.

No hands moved.

It was odd enough that it gave Mikey pause to search for his blue brother. 

Just off to the side, he found the slider glowering at the ground with a furrowed brow ridge.

Mikey best guess was Leo was berating himself for missing two things in one night. 

The lot of them weren’t just off their usual games, they were acting in each other’s roles. 

“Did Y/N ask you to?” Mikey found himself needing to be the level headed one with Leo supposedly out of commission.

“Not verbally.”

“Not-!” It was too much, but Mikey pressed. “Why then?” 

“I hadn’t gotten my response. I knew the moment you got your hands on Y/N, I would never have the chance. I needed… I needed to know.” Donnie’s eyes closed and he slumped the smallest bit. 

Mikey took satisfaction in that. 

Any comeuppance was immediately offset by further guilt. 

Being mad at Donnie wasn’t going to get him closer to you. 

Donnie clearly knew he was in the wrong. 

Mikey would interrogate him later. 

He’d find out what his purple brother was hiding. 

He disliked how you both had information he wasn’t aware of. 

The rot of not knowing twisted inside of him.

It merged with the image of your shredded face.

This wasn’t Donnie’s fault.

Or Leo’s.

It was his. “I… broke Y/N’s trust.”

“I… don’t think it’s so simple.” Donnie shuffled, uncomfortable with the whole matter.  

“It’s not.” Leo stepped in verbally, but kept his distance.

Donnie perked up, catching the nuisance there. “What are you talking about? Did something else happen?”

“We need to talk to April.” Leo noted with a leader’s authority that said it was time to rendezvous.

Long used to the chain of command, Donnie animated to summon the rest of the team via the comm.

Tapping the waves, the others rallied with minor complaints.

They wanted and deserved explanations which sent Mikey wallowing into a corner.

Casey’s voice cracked the line and demanded to know why her hunt was called off.  

It took Leo growling out a stern, “Return to base,” for the others to quiet.  

It was the Hamato way to be messy.

They got the job done with individuality.

Mikey heard Donnie approach him.

It was too soon. 

Mikey didn’t look as he took off.

He never glanced behind him once. 

All the way to the living room.

The space was quiet and the move sat on a pause screen. Mikey walked toward the projector before looking out at the chaos he had wrought. It dotted the space and everything was turned over save his dad’s chair. Sitting in it was Splinter, fast asleep. If this were any other night, Mikey would have approached his dad to ask why he’d been late to movie night.

He’d be up soon enough.

The others clambered in and the head Hamato was immediately roused. Leo helped field their dad who was frustrated that he was left out of the loop. Arguments ensued and Mikey was thankful as it gave him additional time to process. He needed the moment and knew he wouldn’t have long before he’d be the one under scrutiny. Whether it was from the many explanations everyone was due or this supposed lecture he was supposed to get from expert April, Mikey needed to make sure he would be able to accept all that was about to occur. 

He might have had more time if Donnie wasn’t poking holes in his thoughts with his gaze alone.

A minute was all he needed.

Something that no one in this family seemed to want to give.

When April arrived, it was with a commotion that alone made her worthy of the Hamato crest. Even while restraining a foaming at the mouth Casey, April had the wherewithal to take in the room’s quieter occupants. Only slightly less of a tactician’s mind than Leo, April screamed for Sunita. The slime yokai wasn’t far off and bounced up, sticky fingers ready. Casey sensed she was about to be carted away and prepared to fight the decision until April released her. Confused by the freedom, Casey spun around only for April to fold her arms and say that she was proud. Suspicious to a fault, Casey warily took the bait as to why and April continued on praising Casey for how excited she was to discuss feelings as they were about to. 

With a deadpan, Casey searched the room and, with one glance at Mikey’s crestfallen face, she knew.

Throwing her head back as if she hadn’t just been in a screeching headlock, she asked Sunita to hang out somewhere away from where the weaklings would cry together.

With a whisper to April, Sunita agreed and Mikey saw Casey throw up a concerned a call me hand sign to April before the pair exited.

The momentary lap in silence revealed Leo whispering in a hushed conversation with his dad.

The others looked on expectantly and Splinter rose under the attention. “I will return for the recap!”

He hopped out of his chair and headed for the kitchen.

Now four brothers and one honorary sister, April address the group. “So… How about that crush, huh Mikey?”

“That’s…!” Raph jumped at the chance to dispel the heavy air. “That’s good! Right, big man?” He turned to Mikey, twitchy. “I mean it’s not… good, good considering… that Y/N sort of… Uhhhh…”

“April, I’m broken.” Mikey cut through and decided he was as ready as he’d ever be.

“Mikey, you’re not-“ Leo rolled his head with minor irritation.

Donnie blinked between parties trying to piece together what he had missed.

“Broken? Whatcya mean?” April steered toward the youngest.

“Something’s wrong. I told Leo. Something’s not right. Do you think my mystic energy could be getting in the way? Drax was telling me that my channels are unbalanced or something, but he always says that to get me back on my training. I know he’s worried, he just-“

April placed her hands on both his shoulders and gave him one single shake. “How about we focus on one thing at a time? Like how I don’t even know what you think is wrong?”

“Right!” Mikey chirped, always glad for her straight to the point attitude.

He’d modeled himself after her in that way.

“What’s wrong?” She patted him, but held firm. “Something with your crush?”  

“Yeah!” That was another thing he liked, she always understood. That was probably why she’d been able to get so close to Donnie. “It’s not right. I know I have feelings for Y/N, but my channels are all gummed up… Oh!!! The emotions aren’t flowing right! That’s it! Yup! It’s just like my ninpo! That’s gotta be it! I think I figured it out! What do you think, Leo?!”

Mikey turned to find Leo giving the twice the grimace he had earlier.

Instead of apologizing, Leo turned away with a sweaty laugh.

“That’s… one option.” April gave her own nervous nod. “Mind if I hear Leo’s interpretation too?”

“Uh… sure…” Mikey was sure he cracked it.

Leo had a particular gift when it came to hunches though.

“Let’s hear it.” April released Mikey to fold her arms in a neutral way.

“You’re getting the second telling of the night.” Leo wiped his brow and flicked back his mask. “The first time Mikey explained it was something like he feels like the feelings should be there, but they aren’t.”

“They aren’t…?” April’s eyes shot up to consider the details given before she returned to Mikey. “You also said you were broken.”

Mikey nodded.

“He compared his crush to ours. What he’s seen all of us do. Even Barry which is like, ew right? How do you even know about that?!” Leo stuck his tongue out.

The two silent brothers twitched at their footnotes.  

Another flicker of her pupil, April clicked her tongue. “Damn, would that make this your first one…? Wait, is that right??”

Mikey was caught.

He’d gotten away with not having to deal with this conversation for years. 

The rest of his family was painfully dramatic when it came to their relationship statuses and he was often relegated as the calm one of the bunch. 

His annoying youngest label had also been a benefit as he seemingly wasn’t considered old enough. 

He supposed that was one of the few perks. 

“First we’ve known.” Raph offered.

For April, that wasn’t good enough. “Mikey?”

“The… first… yeah…” Mikey drew out, feeling painfully self conscious.

He hadn’t meant to get to 28 without a crush.

He’d tried.

More than once.

There was that cute yokai girl at this favorite ink stand in the hidden city.

The barista who always drew him the cutest doodles on his disposable cups.

That Brooklyn boy who moonlighted as a vigilante of his own.

That psych major with the dimples.

There were even more than that.

Fleeting instances where he swore feelings would catch.

The wick in his chest was only waiting to be lit.

He could manifest fire with barely a thought, but it was the one place he couldn’t make it occur.

It was a hollow feeling, but he didn’t feel empty.

The candle was there.

Stationary and not making him feel less.

And yet it refused to serve its purpose.

What was the point?

“Mikey…” April patted his head like she used to do when he was a kid.

It was the third time tonight he was taken back to his past.

How long was he going to keep being a kid about everything?

Something warm and wet hit his hand and when he went to look, he found tears falling again.

Only salt and water, he wiped his cheeks to find more of them.

How long would he keep crying about this?

“I’m sorry…” She murmured and he pushed into her hand so she’d pet him harder. “You’re okay. You’re not broken.”

“How do you know? I know you got your bat and you’ve picked up spells, but can you see my mystic energy channels!?” Mikey huffed through his fractured emotions.

“I can’t. What I can see is how upset this is making you and I want to help, but I’m gonna need to know more.”

“Like what?! What else is there?! I told you! I’m wrong! Like the ooze skipped a step in making me! My emotions are messed up!”

“Shh…” She pulled him into a hug and continued to stroke his head. “What’s wrong with the way you feel? You care about Y/N right?”

He nodded furiously, knowing he was rubbing snot into her shirt.

She didn’t care. “How is that wrong?”

“It’s not enough. When-” He hiccupped. “When Leo first met that bunny, it was palpable. The affection radiated off of him in waves. When Donnie first saw Atomic Lass, he was so young! His eyes lit up like he was looking at one of his inventions! When that waitress hit on Raph, he became a blubbering mess, but you could tell she was all he thought about for weeks after! I’m not… I’m not like any of them.”

“Because you’re you.” April pushed him to a comfortable arm’s length away so she could view him. “What’s that thing you said about replicas?”

Mikey couldn’t help but smile.

He loved how April remembered that.

“That there is no true replica for a moment.”

It was a fact he’d learned in practice. 

There was no way to recapture an instant. 

It didn’t matter the medium used. 

You could only create an ode to it. 

It was only possible to inspire the feeling. 

Cooking was an art.

Painting was an art.

They were called Mystic Arts.

Martial Arts.

They were creative expressions and the experience of life itself.

“No two people feel romance the same, they also don’t have to feel it at all.” She explained.

Mikey felt every muscle in his body drop.

Thankful for April’s strength and the hours she’d put in at the gym solely to beat Casey at arm wrestling, she was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Romance…?” He quacked, the sound splitting him.

April only gave the barest nod, encouraging whatever was happening.

Was it an epiphany?

He wasn’t so sure.

It was more like he finally saw the candle for what it was.

The wick was real for sure.

Only the entire thing was electric.

It never needed to be lit.

It held a light all his own.

“Different types of love…” Mikey mumbled. “Family, friends…” He gave a half laugh. “Romance?” He checked in with April.

She watched on, patiently.

Leo snorted.

April preemptively shushed him.

Leo wrapped a hand around his mouth and shook his head.

This was Leo’s hunch then.

“This seems… kinda obvious?” Raph asked openly.

Donnie backhanded his older brother’s plastron and gave him a look that said ‘don’t.’

Donnie knew then too.

At least someone was on his side.  

That was why Raphie was his favorite.

Raph was also still different from him.

That burning flame in his big brother’s chest had to be a torch.

It had guided them all for so long.

It would go on to be nurtured by someone else.

Heat.

“Oh… Oh no…” Mikey made a disgusted face. “Does that mean…?”

He had to spin around.

To see all their faces and the different understandings.

Romance was always equated with sex.

He wasn’t sure if he was repulsed by it, but it had been such a thing.

Donnie had been the first of them to find his urges on that front.

Mikey thought he was too young, but it apparently varied.

Splinter had completely whiffed the birds and bees talk and made it into a family ordeal much to everyone’s horror.

Except Mikey.

He watched the others squirm and couldn’t figure out why.

Sure, the content was gross, but it was just a talk.

It had felt like he was removed.

Donnie, meanwhile, was mortified.

The others were ready to pounce on him for instigating the topic. 

He had tried to dig down and bury himself during which had spurned on further conversation about holes.

The talk which was repeated three separate times for each awakening was never one that resonated with Mikey.

All the shame and worry that the others had didn’t struck Mikey in the same way.

When he’d asked dad, as soon as the others ran away to their respective rooms, Splinter had simply said it was because he wasn’t ready.

He was too young.

Someday soon though, it would come.  

But only age did.

Outside of crushes, puberty hit a house with four teen boys in it.

Changing bodies and hormone horrors.

More shame, more hiding, more and different talks, but still.

Mikey didn’t understand.

There were rushes.

Things he’d wake up too.

His body would do things, but he’d shake it off.

A quick shower and the tide would calm.

He tested, of course.

He’d heard his brothers complain about the aftermath in whispers.

How it was worth it, but at what cost.

The price of admission wasn't worth it, let alone an exit fee.

It hadn’t felt like anything in particular.

A sort of empty pleasure that seemed like a waste.

He didn’t bother and eventually his body evened out.

He waited for the others to join him in passivity.

They only needed to let it pass and, in a way, it did.

It also never left them.  

From then on, they’d talk about it and when they did, he wanted to roll his eyes.

So much effort.

So messy.

Throwing other people into the mix.

For what?

You got the same if not more pleasure from eating a perfectly balanced dish.

You might as well cook.

Or better yet, you could feel the sense of accomplishment that came with seeing the work of art you’d been painting for months come to fruition. 

Oftentimes it never matched your mind's image, but instead became something better.  

That was priceless.

Every second was worth it.

You worked towards something.

Something that could be similarly intangible, but who could argue with those results?

That was what irritated him.

It was so easy for him to live without sex being a thing.

The others were boring.

How could you have a one track mind about something like that?

Blinking wide, Mikey turned to April.

“Don’t… don’t tell me they’re connected?”

Why hadn’t he realized?

In that department, he never thought he was broken.

He’d simply thought the others were addled.

Their sex drives were choked up to their emotional constipations.

He had refused to be Doctor Sex-Ed.

“They’re not.” April offered, quiet as if still not wanting to intrude.

“What?” Mikey needed her to say it.

“Sex and romance.” April responded quick and to the point.

Raph let out a drawled syllable and this time both Leo and Donnie punched the larger turtle’s chest.

“They’re… but I don’t…?”

“There’s labels…” She pulled out her phone.

“We’re not into labels.” Mikey responded automatically as he stared at her fingers tacking over the screen.

Human hands fascinated him.

They were his favorite to draw.

So delicate in comparison to theirs.

Sleek.

Functional.

April held out her phone for him to see and on the screen were horizontal bars in turtle colors and monochromatics.

Resisting reading it aloud, he took the device and flipped through the entry.

This was the flagged representation of aromanticism. 

Romanticism was just as much a spectrum as sexuality. 

There was more. 

There were enormous blocks of text and details. 

He didn’t have time.

Or at least, that’s what the latent rush of his mind said.

He had meant to run to you.

It now seemed like his time would be of better use elsewhere.

 “You don’t have to use a label, but sometimes they help. Like for research.” She shrugged.

“You…” Mikey looked around the faces in the room. “You guys can go. I need to… think about this…”

Donnie nodded first, walking off before Leo patted Raph’s carapace strategically. “Come on Big Red, how about I clear this up for you?”

“Yeah, please.” Raph glanced over to Mikey and hesitated. “You sure? You don’t seem good…”

“I can’t go through the explanation again… And I really don’t want to hear it from Leo.” Mikey gave a deadened stare before flicking his gaze to his blue brother. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Leo tipped his head with a grin. “I already said I wasn’t the expert, that’s why I brought her in.” He snapped toward April and she returned the finger gun before Leo led Raph out.

Now alone with his sister, Mikey held her phone out while simultaneously searching for his own. “Why does Leo keep saying you’ll know?”

“When Leo realized he wasn’t all that straight, he sort of had a crisis.”

Mikey blinked wide. 

As far as he knew, Leo had owned his sexuality. 

All he could remember was Leo’s extravagant coming out which had included a very exact number of unicorns. “Wait, wha-?”

“He was kinda worried about what you guys would think, but mostly he was worried about Splints. Splints doesn’t… come from the best culture for that kind of thing and Leo needed to get out of the lair to talk about it, just in case.”

“I…” Mikey’s gaze dropped, halfway through typing out ‘aromantic’ into his search bar. “I didn’t know he was struggling back then… I- I wasn’t there I-“

“Nope, none of that.” April clapped his arm. “One, it’s in the past and two, it’s like that sometimes. No matter how much your family loves and understands, sometimes you gotta go outside the unit. It’s like being in your own head. You gotta get out.”

“You are family.” Mikey reminded her, knowing full well April had doubted her place through the years.

“You know what I mean.” She flicked his forehead.

He fell back dramatically for the sake of it.

She smirked above him before offering a hand and hoisting him up.

She really could have knocked him off his feet with a finger if she wanted.

“Anyway, back then we had a long talk about it. We had a sleepover, another talk, lunch, another talk. Leo’s pretty damn stubborn. He talked himself in so many circles it was like, boy how did you not know you already weren’t straight?!” She laughed big and loud.

Mikey smiled.

“Anyway, unlike you who needs to come to these conclusions on his own, Leo is the kind of guy that needs to be validated. So I told him about how I realized I was demi.”

“Wait, what do you mean conclusions?” Mikey pouted.

April tilted her head and arched a brow that said it was obvious. “Mikey, seriously? You’re stubborn as hell. If anyone told you how you feel about something, you would purposefully stop just because you were told.”

Mikey pursed his lips until it puckered his whole mouth. “Do not!”

“You’re literally doing it right now.” She pointed with an ace in the hole.

Like his mind was blown, his jaw dropped before he grumbled it away. “Okay maybe…” he had to bite down to keep from saying that he still wasn’t totally sure, but that in and of itself cinched the truth for him. “What’s demi then?”

“I… I mighta thought I was aro for a bit.” She gestured to his phone and he finished up that typing in the search. “You already know I couldn’t connect with my peers. I was always more interested in a scoop or busting baddies than kissing. I felt… like I’d never be part of anything…”

Mikey inhaled sharply, ready to tackle this self consciousness, but April held her hand out to stop him.

“My past, I’m good now.”

Mikey nodded and lowered his guard.

“But then I got to know Casey. Seeing how she was the same. How she also couldn’t fit in with her peers, crappy or not.” She sent Mikey a brow wiggle.

Mikey chuckled.

“We were both outsiders and total enemies to lovers.” April mused wistfully. “I remember the first time I felt it. It was years after she’d turned over her new leaf. We were out camping, the proper one that Splints finally got going.”

Mikey knew the one.

“All those stars and I thought ‘damn someone put them in her eyes.’” April softened at the memory. “I kissed her right then and the sparks…” She shook her head.

“Then… can’t… I be like that? I just need to know Y/N longer and...!”

“Well…” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You might not. Just because it happened for me, doesn’t mean it’ll happen for you. Remember, we’re all different here. Everyone is. There’s no right way. There’s no wrong one either.”

Mikey slumped and stared as that flag that was populating his search.

If it wasn’t green he thought maybe he could hate it.

That was a lie, all colors had their place.

Blinking at that thought, he walked over and headbutted April’s arm. “Thank you April… This… I needed this.”

“Yeah, you take some time. Whatever you need. You need to talk more, you call me, kay?” She bumped him right back.

“Is there anyone I’m not in debt too?” He mused dryly before heading towards his room. It was there he curled up with his phone and mentally willed himself to engage. It took several re-readings, but eventually the text started to take. Soon, Mikey was exploring every internet resource possible until the glowing starry stick-ons that he covered his ceiling with stared back at his bloodshot eyes. “Aroace, huh?”

💛 NEXT 💛

Beta bus round up for my everlasting gratitude toward @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[ask-shane]

Hi, I am the anon that said i send mean asks on purpose. I just wanted to make a clarification and a formal apology and then i will stop interacting with this blog.

I need to clarify that by mean asks i meant things like saying shane has no bitches, or that he uses 738283837 in 1 shampoo. I never sent any slurs or genuine insults to this blog, and on top of mean things i also send nice things. I should've specified that the asks I sent were teasing and not genuine mean things.

I sincerely apologize for saying what I said. I had no idea the extent of the awful things people sent you and the fact that I could make you feel like i intentionally try yo make you feel bad and ruin your day with slurs and insults litterally made me shiver and feel anxious in real life. I fully understand how what i sent was harmful and damaging to someone who has to deal with toxicity on a daily basis.

I feel a lot of shame for what I did, this blog is something i check daily because i love your writing and i Love this character. I don't need you to unblock me if its even possible, i just wanted to apologize and wish you well

hi anon, mod dawn speaking. i’m gonna be talking directly to this person so please feel free to skip this if you aren’t them

i just wanted to start by addressing a couple things. firstly, thank you for apologizing so sincerely and honestly. i can tell how genuine this is and i’m certain it was a very brave decision after i put you on the spot earlier. i’ve deleted the post replying to your ask out of respect for this situation.

and for that, i am extremely sorry. i’m speaking to you with recognition that there is a person who is going to be reading this. i should’ve been more aware that i was putting you on blast in front of a lot of people. even if you were on anonymous, i can’t imagine how anxiety-inducing it was to be reading my response when you actually meant to be playful/teasing.

another thing i need to clarify here was that i did not realize that you were not the one sending me death threats and slurs. i had received a barrage of messages at the same time and had wrongly assumed the others were coming from you as well. it all happened at once, and the context of you sending that ask was shockingly related to the vile ones i received. your asks were not at all on the same level of “bad” the ones you didn’t send were.

unfortunately i had no way of telling which ones belonged to you and which ones didn’t, so i decided to address them using your ask. i made the mistake of incorrectly conflating your ask with the others.

that out of the way, i am so sorry once again, and also very thankful you apologized. please know there’s absolutely no need to feel shame for this.

i want to make it clear now that teasing (and even being somewhat mean) asks on my blog are okay. it’s fun to be provocative! there’s an art to it that i can appreciate, especially here, where shane gets glazed a lot. it is really awful that my guard happened to be high when you sent this because of what another actually unacceptable anon did. you shouldn’t be lumped in with them and i am so sorry i couldn’t discern your intention. i should also use this as an opportunity to say you have a good heart. i love that you can be playful and i thought a lot of what you said was actually quite funny. i didn’t intend to make you feel anxious or responsible for what other people did, but regardless, i did so, and it wasn’t fair of me to do to you.

lastly, thank you for interacting with my blog. now that we’ve cleared things up, i want to personally say to you that it is more than okay to continue to interact with my blog. i can appreciate a presence like yours around here. i’ll figure out a way to make sure you’re able to continue interacting (if you’d like to, of course). i am so glad you enjoy my writing and my portrayal of the character and it is honestly heartbreaking to hear i may have spoiled this experience for you. i have no negative feelings toward you whatsoever— if anything, i respect your ability to communicate with me after this (even though i’m sure it would’ve been much easier to block me and try to forget this happened)

i hope you are reading this.. i wish you nothing but the best 🤍

- dawn

[shadowbender19]

So, a new Heartless video just dropped. I had a notes doc open and recorded basically every thought that I had during the video. Some of these are vibes only, but I hope that someone finds this enjoyable.

This art style is truely stunning

Eira’s little ghosty boy? I love him

Alchemy’s Team Rocket vibes? chefs kiss

I love Alchemy so much, very gender (though so are all of them lol)

Variant outfits? Nice

Yo, the music that played at the beginning of Flint's section hit different

Flint's D&D vibes are immaculate

The way Alex does action is immaculate

Eira my beloved. My boy is back

“Snow Smith” gives me big Gray from Fairy Tail vibes

HE HAS A DAD

Is Eira going to build himself a forge?

I was wrong, but this is so much better. They were roommates!

I want to say that the fan fiction writes itself, but sadly it does not

Doppel and Glass having slightly different powers would be very cool

Doppel’s sketch reminds me of Ben 10 and I love it

Ah, nods so they’re artificers

Angst, I love it

River content lets go

River and Alchemy having matter vs energy powers (an oversimplification I know) could lead to some mad physic related bs

Powers developing and evolving is always amazing

Brooke is the name for guard girl

River’s logic and science based reasoning sounds like an incredible character point

New brush for the hair

River hitting mute on Lorelei is so funny

River’s eyes are iconic

New desktop background just dropped

Milk away, I love this stuff Ok, so I didn’t keep track of thoughts for the first two, so I’m going back to do Heartless

The quirk style names of each character’s powers spark joy

Grave robber is a sick name for a power, hope he finds a way to reuse it if this ever becomes a bigger thing

All I can think of is hungry hungry hippos, vibes are correct tbh

I love the balance created by the ghouls, great way to balance mimicry magic

Frosty boi Final thoughts

Not really relevant but before he colours in the eyes, this art style is very reminiscent of Ben 10 omniverse which I absolutely adore

The focus on change and evolution of their magic, especially as the narrative evolves is beautiful and makes me really want to see this as an extended story.

This art style sparks joy. The dynamic poses, the way that the clothes move with the action, the way that intangible magic is so clearly on display. I don’t know if this is just the way that Alex draws action, or if his art style has evolved once again, but it is so nice to look at.

Basically, I’m back on my Heartless BS. This is my formal apology to my followers who don’t know what that is, as well as an even more formal request of whoever the hell runs the discord server. Please add me, I wish to be a part of whatever the hell goes on there that I keep hearing about.

Finally, thank you @abd-illustrates, this was incredible And that’s about it. Thanks, for reading my rambling, I’ll probably be posting more about this over the next week or so, so stay tuned.

[floraltypes]

lots of innocent and not so innocent touches

With Dwayne Pride if you wright for him if you don't just Gibbs please <3

who - leroy jethro gibbs x reader

an - i’m sorry! i haven’t seen ncis new orleans, so i probably couldn’t write dwayne very well … hope this is okay, for some reason i had trouble writing it :/

please continue to send in asks !!

unedited :/

Blankets surrounded your body, your leg ontop of another while light snores left your mouth. Hair was messed up and a hand was slowly moving to stroke your cheek. The curtains allowed peaks of the sunlight to peak through in your bedroom. A man lying beside you in his sweatpants and old tee.

The grey haired, older, man kept his eyes on your peacefully sleeping face, truly enjoying whatever dream you were imagining. He made no move to remove your leg from the top of his, but did make a move to place his fingers above your face, lightly pushing some stray baby hairs away.

A part of him silently cursed to himself, wishing that he had learned how to work his phone better, then being able to snap a photo of this calming moment for his own purposes.

Gibbs wouldn’t admit it to you, but these moments were more important to him than working on a boat, or the thrill after finally catching a bastard. There was something so domestic, so calming, with these times spent together. Time for him to think to himself, and also have the one he loves so much be so close.

Time to think about the past, and wonder how he got lucky enough for it to land here. Though, he may have lost a lot, and they would never be forgotten, he was grateful for another opportunity at pure happiness.

But his time to enjoy the peacefulness soon ended with a ring of a cellphone, causing you to stir a bit in your sleep. You eventually opened your eyes, staring up at the man who now had the hand that was formally on your face, resting on your chest.

“What’s that?” You questioned, trying to sit up and rub your eyes. “Can you get it?”

“It’s your cellphone,” He answered, missing the warmth of your leg, now having it be moved to lay on the mattress itself.

“Mmk,” You mumbled, reaching over to your side table and grabbing it. Flipping the screen up, you moved it to your ear. “L/n,” You tried to make your morning voice sound more as your own.

“If it isn’t little Y/n!” A cheerful voice spoke loudly on the other line. “Ya miss me?”

“No. What do you need?” You rolled your eyes, getting off of the bed, Gibbs eyes traveling your body as you walked to your dresser, picking out a outfit. “Mhm, okay,” You nodded to yourself. “I’ll be there, text me the address. Oh. Never mind then. Bye.”

Gibbs got out of the bed, going to stand beside you. He silently observed as you rolled your eyes once again, opening another drawer, he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, a small kiss on the inside of your neck.

“Who’s that?”

“A old coworker.” You opened your underwear drawer, picking a pair for the day.

“Purple,” Gibbs commented, as you dropped the blue pair back into the others, reaching for the one he chose.

“Gosh, it’s like we really are married,” You laughed to yourself, looking back at his straight face. “Sorry, you would know too much about that. But that’s not my point, there is a dead marine there and that means we’ve got work.”

“You didn’t seem to happy to hear from him,” Gibbs unwrapped his arms as you moved to your closet, picking out a dress shirt.

“I wasn’t. He’s annoying and almost cost me my job at the time. But, it’s our job, we have to go, so grab your clothes in the bottom drawers,” You turned around and pointed at the dresser that held some of his items, now finding what you needed and beginning to change.

———————-

“If you are all interested to know… I spent the morning watching a old TV show airing about a classic comedic couple who travels the world with their adopted son,” Tony announced to no one in particular, sitting at his desk as the others sat at theirs.

Ziva had her arms crossed, leaning back in her chair a bit. McGee sat in his, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his phone.

“What did you do this morning, McGee?” Ziva looked over to McGee, watching as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Trying to work on my new writing.. but for my character, uh, Miranda, I need a good backstory for her, people are really grasping onto her character from the former story. I’ve read some things saying they think she’ll get with Gibbs, I mean Libbs!”

“Interesting,” Ziva tsked. “I read the story and your Miranda character, who is obviously Y/n, and I don’t see it.”

“You know nothing about romance, Ziva,” Tony waltzed over, his own coffee in hand and his face near hers. “I think no one expects you to think about who would get together. But, no, I don’t see Gibbs getting with someone like L/n who is very, you know-”

“I’m what, DiNozzo?” You walked in, moving straight to your desk as you placed your bag down.

“Amazing! I meant, you’re so great that someone like Gib-” Tony looked at Ziva’s eyes widen. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Someone like me, now what’s that, DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned.

“Uh-” Gibbs smacked the back of DiNozzos head, moving over to his own desk.

“Dead sailor, body is already getting examined by Ducky and some visitors are coming to drop off some of the evidence.” Gibbs informed everyone.

“They think this sailor had something to do with a past robbery and murder, a cold case,” You clarified.

“L/n!” A guy smiled widely, another girl following in pursuit behind him as he walked to you with his arms wide open. “It’s been too long,” He quickly hugged you, tightening his grip around your shoulders and moving his hands to cup your face. “You still look as beautiful as ever!”

“Y/n, is that your boyfriend?” Ziva inquired.

“He looks a little out of her leagu-” You shot DiNozzo a look. “Or not?”

“Ah no,” The man laughed. “Old coworkers, that is Lila and I’m Carson, nice to meet you guys.”

“If your old coworkers, you must have a ton of embarrassing stories about Y/n!” DiNozzo beamed, moving closer to Carson.

“Uh, a few,” He responded. “We only worked together for a year or two, some, but not a ton.”

“Some will do.”

“DiNozzo, we aren’t here to make friends we are here to solve a murder,” Gibbs shot him a look and hit the back of his head.

“Right, sorry, boss.” DiNozzo put his head down like a sad puppy dog and made his way back to his desk. The two visitors looked at the scene that had just happened oddly.

“We brought all of our evidence, not much, but something,” Lila announced, placing the box on the table now and taking some of it out. “Should we get started?”

“I’ll show you to Abby, she is our forensic analysts and will probably want to take a look at this stuff for herself,” McGee told Lila, putting the evidence back in the box and letting her grab it, soon walking towards the elevator.

“You think I could check out the body?” Carson asked you. “It might be good to see what he looked like more and talk with your doctor.”

“That makes sense, I’ll show you to him,” You smiled at your old coworker and took another way to Ducky’s area.

The both of you chatted on the way down, catching up with how things differ since you worked there and a bit about your new workplace here.

“I really thought you would be Jeremy, the one who called me. I was a bit worried,” You laughed, walking into Autopsy with Carson as Ducky moved near you.

“Hello, dear, who’s this?” Ducky questioned, Jimmy moved near his boss.

“Hey, Ducky, this is Carson. Carson, this is Doctor Mallard. He is a old coworker of mine, Ducky,” You told the older man. “That’s Jimmy, he is Ducky’s assistant.”

Ducky began to explain how the man had died, pointing out various things on the body and even putting in a few past experiences of his own into the conversation.

Soon the four of you had heard the doors open, turning around to catch the view of your boyfriend entering into the room and moving to stand right in between you and Carson.

“I just want to hear some of the explanation myself, you can continue, Ducky,” Gibbs commented, all of your eyes turning back onto Ducky who was back to talking.

You felt a warm, larger hand travel to the middle of your back, a thumb softly pressing into the fabric that covered your skin. You turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Gibbs, but he just continued to stare forward ignoring it.

It was like a goosebump went up your spine, yet it wasn’t not encouraged. It was a bit of a energetic feeling, so you rejoiced in the innocent touch, a sign he was there.

Eventually, Ducky was done with his long explanation and you were back to heading upstairs with Carson and Gibbs to do more research regarding the deadman and cold case.

“So, Y/n, I was thinking we could go out to lunch or something soon to really catch up, outside of work,” Carson mentioned while you three were on the elevator ride up.

You were surprised at his somewhat boldness to announce this in front of your boss (and boyfriend), but he was always a very open person, kind and open.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” You replied.

“We are busy most afternoons.” Gibbs added. “So, if you plan it at some ridiculous time don’t expect my agent to be able to make it.”

The doors soon chimed open and Carson quickly left, making a bee line straight to Lila. Gibbs let you leave first, placing another palm against your back to secretly lead you back to where the desks were, even though you knew where you were going.

———————

The rest of the day was spent with much more working diligently. You all had made some progress but not enough, and you could tell it was really getting to Gibbs. He dismissed everyone and told them to come back in the early hours in the morning.

Gibbs had told you that he was going to stay and work on this some more, so you told him you would stay as well and order some food. Once Carson had heard that, he decided that he would do the same.

A hour later, three burgers arrive and you hand them out to the two other men, soon taking a bite into yours. A bit of the condiment had spewed onto the corners of your mouth, but your hunger caught up with you, continuing to avoid the feeling for a moment and just eat.

Carson caught the look of your messiness, breaking off into a small laugh, and you joining, him then making a joke about how this used to be a regular for you. Gibbs got up from his seat with a napkin and bent over a bit to wipe it away from your mouth.

It was certainly a small gesture, but had caught you and Carson off guard, the both of you quieting. You just stared back at him while he continued to eat with a pride grin on his lips, looking over the papers.

It seemed like a blessing from the sky when Gibbs had finally connected the pieces. Everyone was called back in to look over what he found and to excite a plan on how to continue. You all were able to get the murderer into custody and with old evidence and Ducky’s help you were able to identify he was the killer. With Abby’s help you were able to put him at the scene where your old coworkers cold case took place.

It was a relieving feeling that the case was solved and over. It was easy to tell that your current coworkers were also happy with the fact that your old ones were leaving for good. Having unfamiliar people in a familiar place is always a weird feeling for everyone.

You watched as everyone packed up their things to head home from the tiring few days of work. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and moved to Gibbs desk, chatting with him until Carson came over.

“It was nice working with you again,” He commented, you turned around to face him.

“It was. We make a good team.”

“We really do. I was wondering about that, uh, date?”

“Hm,” That had slipped your mind, and almost did once more when you felt a brush of a hand against your bottom, turning around to make eyes at your boyfriend. “Sorry, I actually have a boyfriend. But if you mean the lunch date to catch up, then I’d love to.”

“The second one,” He nodded, his cheeks brightening a bit at the dejection but also confirmation.

“Great,” You grinned, writing down your phone number and handing it to him. “Talk soon, bye.”

“Goodbye.”

You watched as Carson entered the elevator and soon disappeared, the office area looking very empty with the lights darkened a bit and only you and Gibbs being in the area.

“Glad he’s gone,” Gibbs laughed.

“I figured,” You laughed alongside with him. “I could tell by your touchiness at work, are you trying to let everyone know?”

“If I was, I would do something bolder. Didn’t Ducky ever tell you I used to be like DiNozzo?”

“Yeah, that would be a interesting time to see.”

“I think if I was that same man, we might’ve had sex right o-”

“Let’s get home, now,” You both soon left the workplace, hand in hand, laughing along at stories of the younger Gibbs and his flirty persona.

[mutigold]

∞ teacher’s pet — i.n.

summary: in which the top student fails a test and gets extra help from his favorite professor.

pairing: student!jeongin x teacher!reader

genre: college!au

warning: sub!jeongin, dom!reader, pet play, noona kink, exhibitionism, handjob, ear licking, humiliation, quirofilia, seduction, he still has his braces.

word count: 1.9k

authors note: i really don’t know where this idea came from, but all i know is subby jeongin = 🤤. thank you for supporting me! watching people like my little writings really make my day.. hope y’all enjoy this <3. stream “Going Dumb”!

“would anyone like to explain what it means to be dependent on an organism?”

jeongin’s eyes concentrated on you, as he listened to your voice encompassing the leveled platform. today’s lecture was based on the living organisms in the world and you seemed to be determined for everyone to learn the curriculum.

however, jeongin could not focus on anything except your figure. you were wearing a white skin-tight turtleneck and black formal pants that emphasize your ass. all topped off with a large suit jacket and black louis vuitton heels.

it overall made his heart jump for joy just enjoying the view.

he thought about how those heels would look wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you; screaming his name. or maybe how your tiny hand would slip around his throat as he begs for your come.

“mr. yang?”

jeongin quickly snaps out of his trance to hear you calling his name. and not in the way he wanted.

you looked up at him with sad eyes, upset at him for not paying attention to your favorite lesson. “what’s going through that head yours? is it more important than organisms?”

he quickly fixed his posture, shaking his head rapidly, and responded with, “n—no, i’m sorry noona. i just was thinking too hard about something. i’ll promise to listen from now on.”

you hummed with caution, continuing the biological lecture. the student sighs gratefully for you letting him go off easily and tries to at least take some notes.

“yo, i.n. you okay?” a familiar voice whispered.

jeongin turns to see his two close friends, seungmin and felix, staring down at him in question. “yeah, you seem a little off today.”

confirming he says, “uh. y—yeah; i’m okay.”

“mhmm. okay with staring professor y/n down huh?” felix smirks.

the heat on i.n. 's cheeks becomes noticeable when hearing about his staring. he then tries to ignore the statement by writing his name and the current date in his notebook.

“leave him alone felix. he’s just probably having some problems with the lesson; you should perhaps ask noona for help.” seungmin tries to intervene.

“yeah; i mean, maybe noona can also help you with other problems. if you know what i mean.” felix grins bumping jeongin’s arm.

“f—felix!”

“boys?! care to tell us what is so interesting other than my lesson?” your voice suddenly booms throughout the room. jeongin jumps at your tone and begins to apologize again once making you soften.

“that’s alright, but please pay attention. oh, and jeongin, stay after class for a few minutes to speak with me.”

he didn’t know what to think at that moment; with felix oohing in one of his ears and seungmin trying to shush him in his other or the fact that you wanted to talk to privately.

alone, with no one around, made his mind officially shut down.

“you wanted to speak with me noona?”

you shifted around to see jeongin’s stiff form; then took note of how nervous he looked and gave him a light smile. “hey, kiddo. i just wanted to see how you were doing lately.” you wished to see some type of relief release through him.

but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

he still looked kind of anxious to speak with you, letting you know how intimidating you seemed. “hey it’s all good, you're not in trouble or anything, i promise. i’ve noticed how you’ve been acting recently in my class and how your scores dropped a little,” you reassured.

“ai! i’m so sorry noona!”

you giggle at the student’s consistent apologies. in your mind, you thought how cute he was; like a puppy aching to gain approval from its owner.

maybe you could make him as your puppy and work hard for that admiration.

immediately, you shake your head from the naughty images. ever since the semester started a few months ago, your thoughts almost ran around yang jeongin.

how his pretty smile, concealed by clear braces, shined at your speaking, how his crescent-shaped eyes followed your every move; making you feel sexy, how large and veiny his arms grew over time within the season, etc.

“that’s alright, jeongin. i just want you to feel comfortable in my lectures. how about this, you and i have a session later this evening to cover the material for the next exam. what do you think pup’?” you offering, accidentally calling him by the pet name you gave him.

after catching the tiny nickname, jeongin clumsy drops his possessions while feeling something swell in his pants. he begins to overthink the word. pup’? why did that sound so nice coming out of your mouth? and how was he gonna hide the fact that his dick got hard in the middle of their conversation?

“i–i’m sorry!”

“oh! no worries hun! here; let noona help you out.”

you instantly proceeded over, bent down, and gathered i.n.’s school objects. starting with some of his blue pens, his macbook, and then his green two-subject notebook. “n–noona! i got the notebook, it’s okay.” jeongin stuttered.

it was almost like he was trying hard to hide something in the notebook, and suddenly it all made sense as it opened to the front page.

yang y/n. it was his surname combined with your first name.

it seemed as if time swiftly froze with silence when discovering the secret. however, it didn’t bother you essentially much as jeongin thought it would have had. “aw, pup’, this is cute. yang y/n has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

the air that was in jeongin’s lungs properly stopped working when distinguishing how seductive your tone became. “i–i..”

“relax a lil’ pup’. listen, will you promise to meet me later this eveningfor some tutoring. i think you could really use it. plus if you’re good–”

you shifted closer to the student’s ear lobe and whispered, “–noona could give you a reward.”

jeongin swore he felt some pre-cum drip down from his pants. “y–yes, noona.” he swallowed trying to moist his dry throat, then jumped moaning in pleasure when your small hand gripped around his erection.

“good. see you then, pup’.”

a few hours later, jeongin ends up at the university’s public library, not knowing what to expect. though, he did make sure to be ready for any possible situation. what did you mean by rewarding him? did you feel the same way he did?

you must have since you did touch his swollen cock during your conversation. or maybe it was just his imagination?

jeongin sighs restlessly thinking of the concept while waiting for your arrival. that soon ends as he hears your alluring voice greet out, “hiya pup’! ready for our lesson?”

he peers up from the library’s table to see you wearing informal clothing. a tight crew neck that reveals your smooth arms extending down to red-painted nails and large breasts bouncing with every step you take.

“ah! i hope you weren’t waiting too long, i got held up in traffic.”

“t–that’s okay noona! i just got here.”

you smile at his nervousness, now acknowledging where it came from, and sat down in the hard chair right next to him. “good, we can get started. i hope you’re ready,” you whispered, feeling an urge to dominate.

jeongin gulps recognizing a certain excitement coming from his pants within hearing your tone and replies with, “r–ready?”

“so, what does adaptation consist of?”

jeongin couldn’t comprehend what you were saying being he focused on the way your glossed-up lips looked. the way he could imagine it wrapped around cock or it traveling up and down the side of his neck molding kisses; it worked him to the point where he was solid hard.

“pup’, what is going through that mind of yours?”

“s–sorry. it’s just, i guess this lesson isn’t grasping in my head yet.” he tries to explain not wanting to upset you.

however, instead of upsetting you, your colored eyes just darken. “oh! i have any idea; remember when i said i would reward you if do good–”

jeongin nods excitedly, making you giggle.

“–well, i know you understand the concept of this chapter. so to push you a little more, i’ll ask you a question and if you get it right, that little cock of yours will get to come.”

the student freezes up at your approach, thinking it was a dream too good to be true. “w-wait what?”

“what is the definition of homeostasis?”

“i, uh, i think it's an organism's constant adjustment to maintain stable conditions in itself?”

you reached under the table discreetly and unbuttoned the pants on jeongin grasping his swollen cock. “o-oh my god, noona!”

“shh, pup’. you gotta be quiet for me; now onto the next question. who created the biogenesis theory?”

jeongin’s breath became too much for him to handle feeling the pre-cum drip from his blood-filled tip. “n–noona, please.”

“come on puppy, tell me the answer or i stop.”

his mind starts to rush trying to find the answer before you let him go. it took him a couple of seconds, but once he got it, he hurried to speak. “henry charlton bastain!”

“good puppy.” your tiny hand moves faster, satisfied with the statement. you felt his cock throbbing with every stroke you took. like jeongin, you dreamt of this same exact moment. you wanted to control the poor student every time he walked through your room, when he made eye contact with you, or even when his plump bottom lip was bitten from his teeth.

and finally, it was happening.

“oh, who’s a good puppy for noona?”

“m-me! i am noona.”

“that’s right pup’. next question, what are the five steps to the scientific method?”

i.n.’s vein from his cock popped out sensing the rubbing moving faster than before. “i only know four noona!”

“too bad, i wanted five or i slow down.” you coldly demand.

jeongin began to try to think hard on the five steps letting the sensation run through his body. “o-okay. it’s defining the problem, making a hypothesis, testing it, analyzing the results… then..”

your hand slows at his hesitation. “give me the last one puppy.”

“oh! noona, don’t stop! i–i. is it d–drawing the conclusions?”

“good puppy!”

his cock grows bigger when your finger grips at the base. then, you painted nails lightly scratch at his tight balls. “oh! noonaaa. that feels sooo goood. pleaseee.”

“continue to answer like a good pup’ then i’ll keep going.”

soon after the next few questions, jeongin sits near his breaking point. “nooonnnaaa! please!”

“grab your textbook and hold it up.”

i.n. clutches the hard-covered biology book to cover both you and him from public eyes. suddenly, you lower yourself to his lips, deeply kissing him with tongue, and wander towards his earlobe. “one more question, pup’. what does stimulus mean?”

“uh! noona! please let me come! make your puppy come!” he moans a little too loud.

“shh. answer the question, then i’ll let you come.”

“s-stimulus? it m-means anything an organism responds to.”

you then move your head to spit down to moist his penis. “good puppy! getting your small cock rubbed in front of everyone like a little slut.” you cup the back of his neck feeling the shivers release through him.

“you can come pup’, come for noona.”

jeongin then lets go, coming hard in your hand. “o-oh! thank you, thank you noona!”

after guiding him to his high, you let go of him and licked the white, sticky substance from your hand.

“good puppy. i’m sure you’ll be ready for that next exam.”

[aminiatureworld]

Mannerisms

Characters: Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader speaks and acts much less formally than Zhongli

Author’s Note: Though I am myself young I am still very excited to see the slang in this age poorly, as all good teen speak does.

Put this in headcanon format because I thought it worked best.

Zhongli

Whenever Zhongli introduced you to people there was always that moment of disbelief, the moment their eyes widened and their expressions conveyed “really?” perfectly. Usually that was right after you opened your mouth.

Perhaps it should have bugged you, but really you just found it hilarious.

You generally classified the people you and Zhongli interacted with into three camps: immortal, citizen, and comrade.

The adepti that still retained their ancient respect for Rex Lapis couldn’t understand you or your mannerisms. Every time you cracked a joke or struck a pose that could be only described as bizarre in front of them you could see the light slowly drain from their eyes, their faith in Morax questioned each day.

“Ah, my dearest, I’m so glad to see you.” Zhongli turned away from Cloud Retainer, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Hey Zhongli. Oof I had the weirdest day today. I don’t understand what’s up with this one archaeologist, you’d think that she’d be able to find shit herself. Honestly, I don’t fucking know, she says that she’s the trustworthy one but like bitch you’re obviously suspicious. Next time she asks me to find something for her, I think I’m just walking off the nearest cliff.”

“Just be sure to stay safe my love.” Zhongli smiled, oblivious to Cloud Retainer’s barely concealed disdain.

The citizens of Liyue had a similar sort of reaction. They knew Zhongli as the reserved funeral parlor advisor, keeper of history, man known for his calm politesse. In contrast you were known as a bit of a stray bullet, the young adult with the mannerisms of a person on a never-ending sugar high, and with the mouth of a slightly drunk sailor.

“Ah I see that Zhongli’s here.” Lan looked over at your partner.

“Oh yeah! Yo, yo Zhongli!” You hopped up and down slightly, waving your hand wildly as Zhongli approached you, smiling and nodding his head in response to your gestures.

“He’s certainly very put together.” Lan commented. “And very knowledgeable, I wonder if he might know –”

“Oh yeah, you’re still looking for that sword huh? You should definitely ask Zhongli about it. I think he’ll know something about it, and if not welp, I guess you asked right?”

“Yeah.” Lan deadpanned, looking back and forth between you and Zhongli before sighing and turning back to the bulletin.

As for your comrades in arms, friends, coworkers, people who generally liked you, they ranged from understanding to the most confused.

“Why would you ever want to be Zhongli’s partner?” One of your friends once asked. “He seems like such a hardass.”

“Nah, he’s really pretty and his voice is nice, I can totally see it.” Your other friend replied, smirking at you. “Too bad he’s broke, he’s got rich people vibes.”

“I still don’t really see the compatibility, but as long as you’re alright I guess.”

You appreciated that they tried to understand, or that they were wildly enthusiastic.

However though you were certainly very energetic, you didn’t really get a picture of how different you and Zhongli spoke until you put your writing side by side.

Slightly messy, full of made up words and abbreviations, slanting as a result of your weird sitting positions, your writing sat in stark contrast to the tidy formality of Zhongli’s notes and letters.

Hey Zhongli, I gotta go do smthing for the Guild so can you pick up le food? The money’s on the table, since I know you don’t have any lol. Anyways wish me luck I’m gonna need it. See you later, love you!

My dear one, Forgive the late notice, but it appears that we are hosting the funeral of a merchant of no small importance. As of such I will be working later than usual today. There is also the question of disturbances in Jueyen Karst, which I may have to enquire about. I think of you throughout my day, and I cannot wait to be with you again. Ever yours, Zhongli

Most of the time you didn’t really think about the difference in your personalities. I mean, Zhongli was a god. Of course he’d be a little different than you, of course he’d be more formal! Besides, he didn’t seem to mind your way of talking, and you weren’t going to change it any time soon.

Still, sometimes the complete confusion of the people around you chipped at your self-confidence, as you found yourself wondering if you were really a “proper” partner. What if you were just too blasé for the man who had protect Liyue for centuries.

“Hey, Zhongli?”

“Yes my love?”

“Do you think, do you think that I’m not… I don’t know, not good enough? Like, I don’t know how to explain it. Do you think that I’m too silly?”

“Never my love. Your vivacity is something that brings me great joy. Do not worry about what others think, there is no one else for me.”

You had to admit that Zhongli’s lyrical style of speaking made you feel all the more soothed, as if your love was something destined, something that didn’t have to worry about the judgement of others. If Zhongli loved your mannerisms for their energy, then you loved Zhongli’s nature for its soft constancy, its quite solidness.

At the end of the day it was just speaking, just different levels of formality. What did it matter if you two were saying the same things, only in different ways?

Love is love no matter how its spoken. And at the end of the day that’s all that matters.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1,

Chapter 2,

Chapter 3,

Chapter 4,

Chapter 5, 

Chapter 6

Summary: The Weasley family have traditions about marriage and Bill has to respect them if he truly wants the reader become his wife. In the attempt to respect his family wishes the weasleys have to visit reader’s grandparent Tim Grant who has a lot of things to say

Word count: 5K TOO LONG I’M SO SORRY

Warnings: none(?

A/N: Hey! part 6 of this thing. I’m so sorry to update this late but it was a complicated chapter and the longest so far. I’ll try to make small chapters from now on and the wedding is aproching, you guys!! i’m sooo excited to publish that part but we have to wait a little more for that.

So, as i’ve said in the last chapter, i changed some things from de canon like Bill being attacked by Grayback and such. it’s just for the plot of this series ok? hope you don’t mind guys.

Anyways, like always, english not my mother language so pls let me know if somethings wrong. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Your life is not enough

You needed a couple of weeks to fully recover, even if it meant having Bill on your back every hour and taking you away from your duties with the Order. The mission that Remus Lupin gave you had to wait until further notice, all for William's excessive concern about your wounds

The task of keeping you away was complicated, more so when the Death Eater attacks had gained strength that no one expected. The members of the order spent twenty-four hours a day on watch with no time for breaks, even Bill went three days without sleep until you, still recovering , left the room and dragged him back with you regardless of his constant complaining. Molly supported you in the decision - thank god - telling her son not to worry that the rest of the Order would keep their eyes fully opened and he could rest comfortably next to you

The drastic change in Mrs. Weasley's behavior confused you because there was no reason for it, but the relief helped make your recovery quicker and less painful. The healer who  you the morning after the accident with the Death Eaters took too long to close the wound as it was a curse wound and it needed a counter spell to heal properly, but not having one, he used other tactics and Dittany to help it heal. However, the help had come too late, and the scar was a throbbing fact that stung terribly when you made the slightest move. The healer said the burning and discomfort would go away with time, but the redness would stay forever. You thought that would be the last of your problems until you got your first glimpse of the result of the attack.

It was a disastrous thing, but it could have been much worse. You sighed as you looked at your disheveled image in the bathroom mirror. You had just taken a shower and Bill was still dressing in the bedroom. You took off the robe Ginny had given you a night before, watching the scar glisten across the valley of your breasts ending above your ribs. You sighed again, if you didn't consider yourself pretty before, at that moment you felt awful.

A new figure appeared in the reflection accompanied by a bright smile. William wore his white shirt tucked into his pants, his bow tie dangling from his collar and his suspenders placed perfectly flush against his shoulders. You smiled, looking at him through the mirror.

“Getting used to your dazzling new short hair?” You asked as you noticed Bill's nervous hand run over his head for the fifth time after the shower. Bill groaned, burying his face in your neck.

“I hate this style”

“And why did you cut it off, then?”

“Mom made me," he stated, tightening his hands around your waist, "She wants me to make a good impression, and for once I wanted to please her in something”

“Wow, your mom wanting to impress my family? That's new”

“Well, not every day you get to visit Lord Voldemort's brother," you gave him a bad look, smacking his hand, "Too soon for a joke, sorry”

You shook your head, escaping from Bill's embrace putting perfume behind your ear, on your wrists and neck. You gasped when a small drop of perfume touched your wound, reddening it. Your eyes lost in the scar again, knowing that even if your dress managed to cover most of it, the initial edges would be exposed like the body of a worm crawling through your clothes. Bill discovered your discontent. He hugged you again, running his fingertips over your sore skin as he kissed your bare shoulder. Maybe you couldn't see it, but for Bill you were perfect. Not just for the way you looked, but  the beautiful heart that, even if he didn't deserve it, you had given him without any qualms. You deserved to be appreciated by the rest of the world, not just by him.

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

“Even with the scar?”

“With the scar even more. It shows how brave you are and you should be proud of it. You saved Mad-Eye”

“The others will see it”

“It's their problem, not yours. You're still the most beautiful woman in this world.

You smiled, stroking the short hair of the man behind you.

“Not as much as that”

“You're right. I stand corrected. You are the most beautiful woman in both worlds”

“William...”

“I'll help you get dressed," he said, noticing that you were blushing up to your ears. William smiled without understanding why a sweet comment could make you blush, but not the fact that he was looking at you naked from the waist up. He picked up the dress hanging on the dresser reaching over to help it over your head pulling it down gently so as not to hurt you. Then, he zipped up your back leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

Bill's false calm didn't go unnoticed by you. As you smoothed the folds of your dress you noticed the trembling in his hands and the way his feet drummed on the floor. He was playing with the zipper of your dress pulling it up and down, trying to calm his nerves

“Bill, it's not necessary to do this”

“It is!” He replied looking up. You turned to him, crossing your arms around his neck, "I want to respect the traditions, to do things right. I want to show everyone that we mean business. It's just that...”

“My grandfather scares you?”

“What? No” You raised an eyebrow “Okay, maybe a little”

“You don't need to talk to him. He'll understand”

“I want to”

You gave in to Bill's pout. A few days ago, just after he asked you to marry him, Arthur Weasley spoke to his son asking him how he would go about keeping the traditions of the family. Bill didn't seem to understand what he was referring to when his father explained that the Weasleys used to always, always, visit the bride's parents' home right after the engagement to ask for their approval. Offerings were usually brought in a show of respect and the parents in question would respond by offering dinner for the guests. Bill's eyes widened, was that a real tradition?, he didn't know, “why didn't you ever tell me about it!” he questioned his father in a shout. Arthur knew about his son's untimely ignorance, returning the accusation, “Would that have made any difference on your desire to have her as your wife?” Bill didn't have to think too hard. “Of course not!” he shouted and his father laughed, patting him on the shoulder. His son was brave and would have asked for his bride's hand even from Voldemort himself. Bill was lucky tho cause he only had to talk to the old alchemist Tim Grant.

Your grandfather was the only one in the family who seemed to be neutral in the war caused by his brother, but above all he was the person who loved you most as you had both been banished from the Grants for standing up for your own convictions. Maybe Tim wasn’t an active member of either side, however, the blood connection with his brother Tom Riddle sent shivers down the spines of those around him. The man isolated himself in the Galapagos islands dangerously close to a volcano, where he was sure his brother wouldn’t dare to look for him. The Weasleys, hearing the story from your lips didn’t understand why.

You used a portkey to get to your grandfather's house. Arthur had communicated with Tim hours earlier and the two of them managed to establish a connection undetected for the ministry thanks to  the old Grant's powerful magic and his skills as an alchemist.  You couldn't hide your excitement at seeing your grandfather again, which encouraged Bill's eagerness to formally introduce himself to his next.... grandfather-in-law?

“Well then, but you don't have to worry. Grandpa is a very understanding man”

“Yeah, I'm sure he is”

“Bill Weasley, who knew talking to an old man would make you so nervous?”

“Very funny” he rolled his eyes, gluing his forehead to yours “I just want him to like me, (Y/N)”

“He likes everyone”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“It will when you talk to him and see there's nothing to be afraid of” You stood on your tiptoes cause even with your high heels you couldn't reach his height. You kissed his cheek, snatching a warm smile from him “He's not like the rest of my family”

“I didn't mean to imply that, I'm sorry”

“It's all right, I know you didn't mean it. Now let's go downstairs, your mother must be going crazy”

“As if she wasn't already”

You slapped his arm as you descended the stairs. You didn't want Molly to hear them and relive her recently dissipated discontent with you

The rest of the family were already near the portkey with their arms full of baskets with offerings for your grandpa and the twins carrying some strange ornaments. Bill's sister Ginny greeted you with a smile, handing one of the baskets to her older brother. Molly and Arthur approached their children, both hanging on the opposite arm dressed in their best sunday clothes to make a good impression. You smiled without waiting for Bill's mother to smile back.

After the accident at Little Whinging Molly's rudeness disappeared. Not that she accepted you with open arms, but she stopped making bad comments and avoided looking at you in a bad way. Bill didn't know what Mad-Eye said to his mother that night when he told everyone how you had saved him knowing how much he owed you, but Bill didn't understand the size of the changing till he saw his mother offer you a piece of litchi pie the night after the attack when you were recovering from the wound. It was not that big of a deal really, but it had left you with a permanent smile on your face.

It was Molly herself who had taken the initiative to encourage Bill to fulfill the family tradition. If a Grant was going to come into their home as their son's wife then she should do it the way they knew. Her first piece of advice to her son was cutting his hair to a normal length. Bill was horrified by his mother's words cause he knew she was taking advantage of the moment to make him suffer with his precious mane. He did it anyway, because there wasn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for you

It was a drastic change, but it was worth it. Molly saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of her son so changed, with his hair cut short and his beard shaved. Your fingers danced over his face appreciating the effort Molly, not yet convinced of your influence at home, had made for you. Molly stifled a smile, unaware even to herself, that you were slowly beginning to win her heart.

You touched the shuttle at the same time falling precipitously in the sand and Harry helped you up  with a smile. Then you walked straight appearing in front of a huge house that was sheltered by the foothills of the bubbling volcano on the other side of the island. The twins, like the rest of the family, let out an exclamation of astonishment as Ron, harried by the huge spiders hovering in the sand, ran for the door.

The smell of freshly cooked food escaped through the cracks in the door before it was opened. The twins' eyes widened as they recognized the delicious smell of cooked prawns and coconut sauce wafting over their heads. You knocked on the door three times, then stopped and resumed the knocking four more times. The Weasleys watched you, did you have a special code to communicate with each other?

"Come in" You gave way to them closing the door behind you and sealing it with an unknown spell. Bill waited for you at the threshold as his family was already making their way to the table where a very well dressed Tim Grant was waiting for them sitting in the main chair. Bill looked at him from his position, shaking “We still have time to run away” you joked “If you're not ready...”

“I am," he said confidently.

“Okay”

You both walked toward the dining room. Tim was greeting the rest of the family enthusiastically. Bill sighed. At least Tim seemed to get along with his parents, so that was good. They all filled a seat, with Tim occupying the head and Arthur the opposite end; Molly sat on Tim's right side and you sat on Mr. Weasley's right side. The twins, Ron, Harry and Ginny took the middle seats leaving Bill the only vacant spot on Tim's left side. Bill took a breath before taking the seat and receiving a curious look from the man.

“Ah, how wonderful is to have more people to fill the empty spaces! A table this big doesn't serve any purpose unless it's fully occupied, does it? That's what I always say!”

“Don't you usually get many visitors?” asked Molly, breaking the ice. Bill felt sweat trickle down his back. Tim guffawed, patting the back of Molly's hand on the table.

“I’m afraid so. I think that is cause I'm the only one crazy enough to live near an active volcano and my family's fame doesn't help me much either, I'm generally a lonely man. Most of the time it's frustrating, but I can deal with it. You are a big family from i can see, are they all yours, Arthur?”

“Only the redheads," he replied. You recognized in his tone of voice a slight pride “The other one is...”

“Harry Potter” Tim Grant's eyes sparkled with recognition. He looked at Harry with a smile, bowing his head to him in respect. Harry did the same “I know him. He's the guy who's been giving my brother headaches”

Tim's laughter echoed through the house being followed by the twins and you cleared your throat to get his attention. Tim spotted you from across the table waving his hand dismissively.

“Grandpa, please”

“A little joke to lighten the mood, my dear, oh, are these for me?” he questioned, bringing closer the baskets offered by the Weasleys resting on the table. Bill's basket was in front of him waiting to be properly delivered, so he stood up and did as he should. Tim Grant gladly received it, complimenting the selection they had made “What a cute boy, did you see him, dear,? he's gone red!”

You let out a chuckle, nodding at your grandfather's words. Bill's face was flushed as he returned to his spot and looked down at his hands. Tim guffawed again and banged the table.

“I appreciate the gifts, Arthur, I've never been part of a tradition like this before”

“It was important for my son and the rest of us to do it, to introduce ourselves properly”

“Sure! It's what a family with honor does. I'm not surprised. No, not at all. The Weasleys were in the book of the sacred twenty-eight for a long time until they were struck off the list. Tell me, that was quite a blow, wasn't it?”

“Not so much, my family has never cared about that sort of thing”

“Of course! It never did, I could see it up close. Did you know I was friends with your grandmother, Lysandra Yaxley?”

Arthur's eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Really. My family also once belonged to the most important pureblood families until I was born, of course. Lysandra and I became friends because her family also got kicked off the list when Cedrella, your mother, married your father Septimus Weasley. Even your grandfather Arcturus was removed from the Black family tree which was an embarrassment for him being that the ancestral Black family is too proud and such. Anyway, that's part of life, right? Creating new families, bringing people together...”

“Was your family always purebloods?” Fred asked. Tim shook his head

“It was. As I mentioned, before I made my appearance in this world”

“Why?”

Tim was suddenly silent. You scanned your grandfather's face waiting for an answer. Dinner plates flew in from the kitchen and positioned themselves at each guest's place setting while a huge chocolate fountain was set up in the center accompanied by a plate overflowing with assorted fruit. The baskets took a turn and took a place on your grandpa's shelves. Tim sighed, looking at the Weasleys asking to begin dinner.

“I’m the son of a witch, but not of a pure blood wizard”

“Don't you and Lord Voldemort share the same father?”

“Harry...”

”It's all right, Molly, I can answer that” Tim rubbed his chin, thinking “I understand your concern boy, being hide here doesn't make me ignorant to what's going on out there and I know better than anyone what you're going through. You need weapons against my brother and you do well. Tom is a big threat, a very big threat indeed. You're right, Tom and I don't share a father, but that doesn't make him any less my brother.

“I think we're straying from the subject that brought us here” mentioned Arthur feeling a sudden warmth. You supported him, but Tim continued to speak

“I was the son of Merope Gaunt and Aleister Grant. My father was a famous son, grandson and great-grandson of brilliant alchemists, and unsurprisingly he was one himself. Merope Gaunt was...  a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Parselmouth. She had a brother named Morfin and my grandfather was Sorvolo Gaunt. My parents met when the Gaunts had just moved to Little Hangleton after their exile and needed a place to stay. They became the owners of a squalor ridden shack on the edge of town and well, my father was a young alchemist who lived near the Gaunt abode”

You sipped from your wine glass as you listened to your grandfather speak. Never, even with the rest of the family, had he ever struck such a chord as he was doing with the Weasleys. The truth was that you didn't understand why he was telling them all that, however, you weren’t interested in interrupting the story as you knew your grandfather had a purpose with him.

“Those of us who are dedicated to alchemy have never enjoyed an enviable reputation because our transmutation abilities are mostly underestimated by the things that magic in general can produce and it makes a science like alchemy reserved for muggles in their attempt to approach the power that the wizards possess. Personally I think there is something right about that, precisely cause the transmutation in the Muggle world is divided into subjects they taught in schools like chemistry or physics, but alchemy goes beyond that, it’s a connection between the wizard and the spirituality that each one possesses...” the man's gaze was lost in a place at the table, pausing the story. Harry settled back on the seat waiting for him to continue “But it's very difficult to erase the deep-rooted ideas about it, so the best is ignore that and continue doing what we believe is right. Anyway, ah! I got off topic, didn't I? Okay, okay, well my parents ended up meeting and my father fell in love with my mother as fast as my socks get cold at night, but that infatuation wasn’t well regarded by my uncle and even less by my grandfather, of course, for the fame of the alchemists at the time”

“So what happened?” you asked. Tim smiled at you, taking a bite of the rye bread on his plate.

“My mother was treated worse than a house- elf by her father and Morfin, so she decided to run away with my father to France where he had several alchemist friends who could protect them. The Gaunts might have been exiled, but they were still dangerous and to be honest I think my father was terribly afraid of uncle Morfin. They eventually made it to France, but they encountered an infamous muggle who tried to hurt my mother”

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to Tim as he drank his third glass of wine. You thought that your grandfather wouldn't even be able to stand up by the end of the night.

“He was known as Gilles De Rais. He was a sadistic muggle who tried to become a wizard even though he wasn't born a wizard and used my father to tell him secrets of alchemy. One night they were having a conversation when my father revealed him that there were certain amounts of gold in people's bodies. Gold is a very valuable component, as you already know, so the man's greed didn’t take long to show itself and he questioned my dad how it could be obtained. My father told him that the only way to obtain the gold was by draining the blood and dividing it with a very complicated procedure, however, the gold of an ordinary adult was quite scarce. The real wealth was in the blood of children of no more than ten years old because they possessed a great amount of gold and other components that could be transmuted into riches. The muggle did so, and when he learned that my mother was a real witch, he wanted to know if golden blood ran through her veins, which would make him richer than he already was. My father refused, and decided to leave the place before he hurt us, because they knew she was already pregnant. The muggle went mad and unleashed in him a fury that spread throughout France”

The Weasley twins chorused an astonished murmur as the others moved up to the table so as not to miss a word of the story. You sent a glance at Bill as he hadn't stopped sweating and going over his words all evening.

"They wanted to go back to Little Hangleton but my uncle and grandfather were still in a rage waiting to see them arrive, so my father sent my mother alone while he found another place to stay as he could not expose her to the cold streets of France while on standby, so they had no choice but to leave her with her family avoiding revealing my existence to them. Uncle Morfin didn’t want my mother back, but my grandfather convinced him because they needed someone to take care of the house and their needs. Time passed, my father didn’t come back and I was born in the garden of the house while my mother watered the plants”

“My birth was a surprise to everyone because my mother knew how to hide me well until my father's arrival but, as that didn't happen, I couldn't stand it any longer and made my triumphant appearance on my grandfather's favorite bushes. Uncle Morfin was furious and even tried to get rid of me immediately, but my mother clung to me like a lioness.

“Really?”

“Really," he replied with a broad smile, "I think a part of her was still holding on to my father showing up at some point and getting us out of there, but again that didn't happen. Mom had to endure her brother and father's abuse for me and that's a debt I can never repay”

The whole table fell silent, thinking. Dinner continued as a heavy thunderstorm rumbled overhead, accompanying old Tim Grant's story as if it were yesterday. The man paused to eat and the others did the same with no desire to miss a word. Harry's eyes sparkled in wonder and Mr. Weasley's strong hand on yours helped to soothe your fervent anguish.

“I guess that's what mothers do, isn't it? Anyway, the years passed and I had to live under uncle Morfin's shadow and at the mercy of his growing wrath. When I turned five I started helping the market men with their chores in exchange for a couple of pounds which we had to exchange later for galleons and sickles to survive for two weeks. Mom helped bring money into the house, but it wasn't enough. Then, at seven, the Dream Messengers showed up one night telling me I was required to study at the Uagadou magical college in Africa so I couldn't refuse”

“Wait, Uagadou takes students from the age of seven?”

“Oh I see," the man settled back in his chair, wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin as he stared at Ron, "I forgot that the rest of the magical schools aren't very well known around here, are they? Well, yes, some schools take in very young students as is the case with Uagadou or the Japanese school. It depends a lot on the traditions in each region i guess, because in the African school they select only descendants of alchemists or who have had at least someone  in their bloodline whose spirituality helped them to become one. It wasn't all as easy as that, of course, because each student had to pass a test before having a permanent stay, but....

“What kind of test?” Harry questioned when dinner was over and they start dessert. The twins were the first to help themselves a piece of fruit, playing with the chocolate fountain in the center of the table.

“One that only wizards with alchemist ancestry could pass, Mr. Potter. I passed the test so I had no choice but to move to the castle immediately. I didn't want to leave my mother alone, but she convinced me to do it. Going to Uagadou was a great opportunity for me and for her cause it meant I could follow in my father's footsteps” Tim's face suddenly darkened as he pushed away the overflowing plate of fruit Molly offered him. He folded his hands on the table and thought for a long moment. The twins continued to play with the chocolate fountain but a fierce look from their mother made them stop. Then Tim Grant sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the handkerchief on his coat “I regret that decision to this day. I could have gone to Hogwarts like any other wizard, but I suppose my ambition got the better of me. Maybe... if I hadn't left Little Hangleton she never would have met Tom Riddle”

You tensed as you felt the pressure of Mr. Weasley's hand on yours a little too tightly. One glance at the others was enough to understand the dread the name struck their nerves. You even caught a glimpse of the hiss on Molly's lips and saw the sting in Harry's scar. Tim let out a chuckle, taking another drink from his wine glass.

“My brother’s father. I didn't hear from him until a couple of years later, when my mother wrote to me saying that uncle Morfin was in Azkaban and that my grandfather had died. She didn't give me many details, however, she did very vaguely mention the presence of a muggle who was quite striking to her. For better or worse, my mother was already forgetting my father, believing that he had abandoned her or, at worst, that he had dropped dead somewhere in France. I didn't believe the same, but it was logical that she got tired of waiting. I would never have grown tired, at least not having loved the way they did”

Your gaze rolled to meet Bill's eyes as he looked back at you. He smiled at you, causing you to blush. Then you both looked back at your grandpa who was sipping a new glass of wine.

“It was a couple more years before I stopped hearing from my family. Mom never wrote again and with uncle Morfin in Azkaban there was nothing that could be done. When I was eleven i returned to Little Hangleton only to find that my mother had married Tom Riddle, got pregnant and he had thrown her out on the street like a dog. She was left with nothing, unable to return to her father’s old house, and was forced to wander in the streets for months, until one rainy december night she went into labor in the middle of an alley. I helped her as much as I could, dragged her to the door of an orphanage where my mother no longer even had the strength to save the three of us. She had her wand in her hand, but she never used it. She gave up in front of me, the baby was born and asked me to name him after his father. She put him in my arms, the door of the orphanage opened, but mother had already died”

“Grandpa-”

“As you can understand, it's kind of hard for me to remember all that," Tim Grant's reddened eyes closed, choking back tears, "I was just a little kid taking care of a baby and I didn't do my best job of raising him. I was upset with my mother for a long time after she died, but I don't judge her now. After living an almost totally miserable life, my mother had no hope and not enough courage to make her want to keep trying, even for the sake of her newborn son. That decision had a considerably negative impact on Tom's psyche as he was growing up I suppose cause I had to go back to school and I couldn't take him with me, I would have! Of course I would have. I tried, but Tom wasn’t descended from any alchemist and there was nothing I could do about that. I tried, Merlin knows I did. I felt the need to leave him in that orphanage. I visited him whenever I could. For a year I went back and forth from continent to continent to see him, but that wasn't enough for Tom to grow up feeling loved. Orphanage life is hard, dear friends, we shouldn’t judge others too harshly, much less a lonely mother” Tim Grant's irritated eyes were fixed on Harry, reflecting deep pain “She was weakened by her long suffering and she never had Lily Evans’ courage. Everyone sacrifices for those they love in different ways, and my mother did it in her own way”

“Why didn't you ever talk about this?” you asked from across the table. Everyone looked at you “when dad asked you so-”

“Your father didn't need any more reasons to support Tom's follies” Tim shook his head “My brother is a very convincing person not only with his family members but with anyone who gets in the way of his plans. He has a very affiliated serpentine tongue, he inherited the gift of gab from our ancestors and your father grew up under his influence”

“We're very sorry for what you had to go through, Tim, but there's nothing that can be done about you-know-who and all that's left for us to do is to fight him”

“I understand, Arthur, but that doesn't stop me from blame myself. I did what I could, but an eleven-year-old can't take the place of his parents. When I graduated from school and wanted to take care of him Tom was already at Hogwarts and completely disappeared from everyone's eye," he lamented, scrunching his eyelids together, "That was the last time I saw him as the real Tom and not the ghastly grayish mass he is now”

The twins and Ron laughed at the comment and were immediately silenced by their father. Tim scrunched up his eyes, took a breath and let out a laugh looking around the room.

“Well, enough whining, that's not what you guys are here for, is it?” Bill, that had kept silent, denied when the man turned to see him, "What's done is done, and lamenting won't do any good, but I hope that what I've just told you will help you to see Tom's human side if he still has it, which I doubt it very much”

“Thank you, sir”

“You're welcome, Harry, dear, well? What was you wanted to tell me, my boy?”

Tim Grant turned his full body towards Bill, almost climbing up on the table fixing his huge opaque eyes on Bill's. Bill held his gaze noticing that the man was drunk since the beginning of the evening. He looked to you for help, but you were too busy watching Mrs. Weasley's reaction to hearing the reason for your visit.

“Come on, boy, don't be shy”

“I... well, I wanted to-”

“Oh, Arthur, your son is so cute!” he shouted as he squeezed Bill's cheeks. His brothers and Harry laughed and even Molly hid a mischievous smile by putting a piece of apricot in her mouth “Poor frightened boy. But, come on! I'm not going to make it harder for you, I know you're here to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage, aren't you?”

“Yes, that's right, sir”

“Well, that's a great gesture of you, but this is a job for (Y/N)’s parents”

“It is, but you understand that under such circumstances we couldn't pay a courtesy visit to the Death Eaters," Arthur interjected with an amused smile.

“Indeed”

“So...”.

“So..." repeated Tim. You sighed, "You love my granddaughter?

“Yes, sir”

“How much?”

“A lot”

“Are you going to protect her, take care of her, and love her?”

“With my life, sir”

“Your life is not enough for me, William” Tim smiled at him, tapping Bill's chin with one of his fingers “My granddaughter is still a Grant, descended from very powerful wizards. My hand will not tremble to revenge the suffering you put her through, am i being clear?”

“Y-yes, sir. Crystal clear”

“Good boy," he replied, patting his cheek. Then he turned to Molly, took her hand and kissed the back of it, giving her a beautiful smile. The woman blushed, but it didn't last long because the man turned to her husband and bowed his head in respect. Arthur pressed your hand on the table and also kissed the back of your hand, making a promise “Well, then. Arthur, your son has my blessing to marry my granddaughter”

Mr. Weasley raised his glass, offering it to Tim.

“Thank you, Tim. We promise to take care for (Y/N) as a member of our family”

“I hope so." The man rested his chin on his hands, watching the huge smile form on your lips and kissing Arthur's cheek. He turned to Molly lightly patting her shoulder offering her a sweet roll which she accepted with a giggle “It's nice to see you accepting my (Y/N) so well” Molly wrinkled her nose “Since who she is and coming from a family as complicated as ours...it was hard for me to believe that someone from the outside could fall in love with her someday. I always knew my little girl was different from everyone” Tim's brown irises clouded over. Molly fell silent “You could put her in a basket of rotten apples and she'd make them blossom, so I'm glad to hear you've taken her in as one of yours. Being a Grant is a very complicated task, i never had a problem with people speaking shit about me, i was never ashamed to be recognized as Lord Voldemort's brother, but my yoke should not fall on my granddaughter” Molly Weasley listened carefully “I have always been a faithful supporter of being judged individually and not by the others actions, that would be like punishing children for their parents mistakes, wouldn't it? That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't make us any less guilty than my brother, isn't that what he’s doing? Punishing Muggle-born wizards just because they weren't born under Merlin's blessing? I like you, Molly, I know you understand.

A pain in her chest made her look down, embarrassed. But then Tim lifted her chin at just the right moment for her to catch the moment her son rose from his place to walk over to you and lock you in a breath-stealing hug. Arthur was at your side watching you and then his attention focused on his wife giving her a beaming smile, the kind she hadn't seen in a long time. Even the rest of their children had joined in the celebration and Harry rose to congratulate you while you and Bill happily sealed your engagement with a kiss. Tim moved Molly's chin towards him, their gazes colliding.

“Yes," Molly whispered, "I understand.

“Good” Tim let out a laugh, pulling away from Molly to toast. The woman watched you as she smiled thinly ”Then my story was useful somehow”

Tag list:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries​

@accio-remus-lupin

@pennyllanne

[mistersshelby]

removing the dagger

hi yes it's me, yes i know i haven't updated my masterlist in ages, yes i am aware i have an unfinished wip that i promised to post months ago, i'm just a stupid fanfic writer begging her audience to love her!!!! anyway!!! i have two other things in the works that I'm hoping to finish, but in the mean time this is one shot i based on ivy and tolerate it from taylor swift's album evermore. i hope you like it, i missed y'all!!! send me asks pls i'm lonely

pairing: tommy x reader

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

“We’ll be entertaining guests this weekend.”

You looked up from your breakfast plate in shock, wondering if your husband was addressing you or someone else. You gave the room a quick scan. No, it was indeed just you. “Alright.” You said hesitantly, “Who will be attending?”

He hadn’t looked up at you from his newspaper at the other end of the table. He felt miles away rather than a meter or two. “Just some business partners and their wives.” He finally looks up. You’re so unused to his direct attention you have to stop yourself from flinching away from his gaze, “You should go into town. Buy yourself a new dress.” Just as quickly as his gaze had met yours, he drops it again.

You draw your attention back to your breakfast plate, spreading butter on a scone before biting into it. “Do you need anything while I’m out, dear?”

“No thank you, love.”

The endearments don’t mean anything, this you know. It’s a formality. You’re husband and wife, and you speak to each other that way, but the words are empty. The truth is, day in and day out you watch him, you know all his routines. You hand him items before he can reach for them. Buy the book you know he’d been wanting for ages, but never got around to go to the store for. Refill the liquor cabinet before he can get to the bottom of a vodka bottle. And still. And still, he doesn’t see you. Not really. You leave the breakfast table to get ready to go into town and you know he won’t notice you’ve left until the maid clears your plate.

***

Another evening filled with pleasantries, pretty gowns, fake smiles. Men complimenting you and informing your husband how lucky he is to have such a beautiful, young wife. Your husband simply thanks them and doesn’t even look your way.

It’s not until he walks into the room that you feel you’ve been startled from sleep. He looks the same as you remember. There may be a few more lines around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise the same. Except now he looks like a walking weapon. That’s what the war had turned him into. You had kept tabs on him once you found out he had made it home from France, alive. The things you heard, the things this man that you used to love so dearly had done, well you suppose it didn’t surprise you. Tommy had always been too clever for his own good, almost too resilient. It made sense that France would have chewed him up and spit him out, kept most of the love and kindness he possessed.

But then his eyes find yours through the crowd and when he locks on you the same love and desire that had always been there, burns there now. No, the war couldn’t burn out his love for you. Your abandonment and consequential marriage that he read about in the paper couldn’t burn it out either. He’d love you until his dying day. And then he’s in front of you and words fail you, “Thomas,” You finally manage, “You… look well.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “It’s good to see you.” And he ever so gently lifts your hand and presses his lips to your skin. A chill runs through you and it takes all your effort not to snatch your hand away. His knowing grin tells you he’s noted his effect on you.

“And who are you?” Your husband interjects, noticing the affront that was greeting you before himself.

“Thomas, this is my husband, Benjamin.”

Tommy looks your husband up and down for longer than is polite before reaching his hand out to meet your husband’s, “A pleasure.” He murmurs.

“How do you know my wife, mister…”

“Shelby.” Tommy fills in for him, and then glances at you, “Your wife and I were--”

“Childhood friends.” You interject before he can finish and force a smile.

Tommy stares at you for a prolonged second before turning back to your husband, “Yes. Childhood friends.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Benjamin exclaimed, “You grew up in Oxford then, yeah?”

The confusion is evident on Tommy’s face so you jump in quickly, “Yeah! Both grew up in Oxford, isn’t that right, Tommy?”

Tommy looks annoyed at having to lie, but nods anyway, “That’s right.” He speaks with Benjamin for a few moments about business and you find yourself staring at him, the freckles on his cheeks you used to kiss so tenderly. His hair that you used to run fingers through. His eyelashes that used to tickle your skin when he fell asleep. His voice that used to whisper adorations in your ear while other women looked on with jealousy.

“I hope you won’t mind if I steal your wife for a dance, sir, I’d love to catch up with her for a moment.”

Benjamin gave him a disarming smile, a smile you hadn’t seen since he had courted you and it made your heart ache. He lifted his glass to Tommy, “She’s all yours.”

You managed a small smile as Tommy took your hand and led you to the center of the room. You could feel tears burning the back of your eyes at the familiarity of his touch. No one had touched you like this, well, since Tommy left Small Heath.

“Oxford, eh?” Tommy started, “What else did you have to lie about to become such an esteemed lady?”

You frowned, “I did what I had to do. It appears you did the same.”

He shakes his head, “I never lied about where I came from out of shame to achieve the lifestyle I wanted.” His voice is bitter, and you won’t lie, it stings coming from the only person who had made you feel like you were worth something.

“I’m not ashamed of Small Heath.”

“Everything about who you’ve married, to what you’re wearing, to the house you live in, to the lies about me suggest otherwise.”

“I didn’t lie about you because I was ashamed, Benjamin gets… jealous. It was just easier not to explain.”

“Does Benjamin have reason to be jealous?”

You looked into those blue eyes you had adored so long ago and saw the same longing and lust sitting there. Your lips part and you pause, trying to find the right words to convey that you were sorry for how things ended. That you wished things could have been different. But he senses your hesitation and his eyes go cold, those familiar walls that you had worked for years to tear down are back up in full force. You suppose it’s what you deserve.

“Forget it. Stupid question.”

“Tommy--”

“No, don’t. You’re obviously very happy here.”

And you realized as he said it that he was so incredibly wrong about that, “I’m not.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes begin to water before you can stop them, “I’ve never been more unhappy in my life.”

Concern floods Tommy features, “Is he hurting you?”

You almost laugh, “No, no he’s never raised a hand to me. He’s never even raised his voice to me. He just… rarely remembers that I exist is all.”

“Well he’s an idiot then.” The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit at his crassness. “Can’t imagine having you walk around this house day in and day out looking like that and not giving you the attention you deserve.”

You have to bite down hard on your lip to keep the tears lodged in your throat at bay, “Do you have a smoke?”

He frowns, “I can’t imagine Benjamin allows a lady like you to smoke.”

“Tommy, please, he won’t even know we’re gone.” Sure enough, when you look over he’s immersed in conversation, “Come outside with me.” You tug on his arm before he can respond, weaving through guests who didn’t give you a second glance.

Once outside, you gulp in the cold air and lean against the stone wall behind you. Tommy joins a few seconds later, “Are you alright?” He asks as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes.

“Can you tell me about Birmingham? What’s it like now?”

While you smoked, he talked about his family and the business. How Polly was doing, and Finn who you could still remember being born. Arthur and his anger problems. John and his relentless jokes. And when your cigarette was nothing more than a useless stub, you noticed there were silent tears rolling down your cheeks.

Tommy glanced at you and then dropped his own cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe, “Why are you here if it makes you so sad?”

The reason you had married Benjamin was because you had promised yourself you would never have to go hungry again. You would never have to worry about someone breaking in and slitting your throat for a loaf of bread. You wouldn’t have to stare at dresses in shops anymore knowing you would never have enough money for it. You never wanted any children you bore to feel that pain either. So you had done what you thought was needed to obtain this lifestyle and now that you were here, it didn’t feel the way you expected it to.

You can’t answer him and instead you look up at the sky and snow starts to fall on your face. “It’s snowing.” You announce to Tommy. He says nothing and you get the feeling he’s annoyed with you. “We had our first kiss in the snow. Do you remember?”

He scoffs and pushes himself off the wall, “I’m not playing your games tonight, I shouldn’t have come here.”

“And why did you come here?” You call after him as he walks away, “Why the fuck did you come, eh? To rub it in my face that I made the wrong decision?”

He turns back to you and he has that cocky smirk on his face, “Listen to that Birmingham accent. Does your husband know his lady’s got such a dirty mouth?”

You don’t know why this is the remark that does it, but you take a sharp intake of breath and your lungs shudder with sobs as the tears pour down your cheeks. The smirk falls from Tommy’s face and he reaches for you, but you pull away. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Darling?” Your husband stands in the doorway and both you and Tommy freeze, “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death out there in the cold.”

You close your eyes for a moment, schooling your features before you respond, “I’ll be just a minute dear, Mr. Shelby was just leaving. I was seeing him off.” Every trace of the tears was gone from your voice. Tommy would be impressed if it didn’t mean that you had clearly needed to practice seeming happy and upbeat when you were breaking inside.

It’s so easy how quickly he loses interest, Benjamin, and turns back to go inside without another glance. “Why did you come here?” You ask Tommy again.

He sighs, “I had hoped that seeing you happy would give me the closure I needed. Unfortunately, seeing you choose misery over me has only made me feel worse.” He says bitterly. Your face crumples and he steps away from you, “Goodnight, my love.”

When he’s gone you wish to scream and cry and you hate him for coming here and shattering the glass walls you had built around yourself to tell you that you were fine. You were fine with your finery and your loneliness and the gin you drink when Benjamin isn’t home. How he ignores the smell of it on your breath. His deliberate silence when you know he can feel your cries shake the bed at night. You thought you had packed Tommy Shelby neatly away in the far corner of your mind where you wouldn’t find him again. Wouldn’t remember what it was like to feel loved. To feel alive. But you remember. And now he’s gone again. Just like when he left for France. Just like when you wrote that final letter to him that you were to be married.

And so you walk back into that house of stone. You murmur to Benjamin that you’re tired and you’ll be retiring early. And he just nods, barely hearing you, like he always does. And you settle into bed and stare at the wall as the house goes quiet. And finally the bed shifts with his weight and his breathing settles and he doesn’t reach for you. He never does.

Goodnight, my love.

***

The mud of the road squelches beneath your shoes and you're conscious of the way everyone in Small Heath stares at you, walking around like this, but you’d had no choice. No trace of your old wardrobe before you married Benjamin existed. He hadn’t allowed it. You didn’t want any reminders, anyway. Besides which, you had told Benjamin you were out for lunch with a friend and had dressed appropriately. When you swing open the door to the Garrison, you don’t see any Shelbys, but everyone stares at you nonetheless. You imagine word will travel fast to Tommy that you’re here.

Sure enough, as you finished your first drink, you heard the doors swing open and a hush fell over the occupants of the bar. You didn’t look up when he sat next to you. “What are you doing in my bar?” He said, his voice was demanding and cold.

“Having a drink.” You said as the bartender slid you another.

Tommy took it from your hand and dumped it on the floor, “Don’t give her another one.” He said to the bartender. “I asked you what the hell you’re doing here, don’t try my patience.”

“I was drinking that.” You said through clenched teeth.

“You’re drunk, you’ve obviously been drinking all day, surely Benjamin darling noticed that before he let you leave the house, eh?”

You turned to him, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, “I came here… Because you never told me… If you remembered our first kiss.”

He stares at you for a few moments, “You came all the way to Small Heath to ask me if I remember our first kiss?”

You blink, “Why are you just repeating what I just told you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I remember it. Now will you go home?”

“I am home.”

“This isn’t your home anymore, you made sure of that.”

“How is what I did any fucking different from what you did? I married him to fuckin’ survive. That’s it. And you would’ve done the same in my place.” While you were talking you kept trying to get the bartender’s attention, but he was purposely ignoring you now, “Will you please tell your bartender to get me a drink?”

He leans in close to your ear and you still, “You could have married me. I could have given you everything if you had just waited.”

You turn your head to look at him and your lips are just inches from his, “I didn’t think you would come back, Tommy. So many men were dying every day, I didn’t think you would come back and I was running out of time to find someone else to marry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes you brave, but you lean into him just a little bit and he doesn’t move away. So you close the distance between you.

The kiss is quick, and you pull away to gage his reaction. But his eyes only dart from yours back down to your mouth before his fingers graze your chin and gently pull you to him again. You can’t believe how alive it makes you feel to be kissed, really kissed, by someone who wants you.

“You’re drunk.” Tommy says finally, pulling away.

“So what?”

“So you wouldn’t be cheating on your husband if you weren’t drunk.”

You snort, “I would do just about anything to feel the way you made me feel again.”

He shakes his head at you, “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. So, what? You’re just going to have an affair with me and I’m supposed to be satisfied with that?”

“What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Leave him and marry me.”

He’s so sincere, and for a moment you allow yourself to think that you could. “You know I can’t do that.” You say quietly.

He nods and lowers his head, “Then I’m not sure how I can help you, Mrs. Davies.”

His use of your married name feels like a blow, “I know you feel the same as I do when we kiss, isn’t it worth it just for that?”

“I don’t do well with sharing.” He practically snarled in your face.

“I’m his in name alone. You own me, body, soul, and spirit, Tommy. You always have.”

Suddenly, he straightens as if he’s just now realized where he is. “Come with me.” He says quickly, sharply. You practically run after him and when you get outside, you see his horse. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you ever just listen to me for once?” And without asking permission, lifted you up by your waist enough to get you on the saddle. When he comes up after you, you hesitate before wrapping your arms around his waist to keep yourself steady. It reminds you so vividly of just a few years earlier, you allow yourself to sink into the memories. It doesn’t take you long to realize he’s taking you to your old haunt. An abandoned house in the middle of the woods, overgrown with ivy.

“Why are we here?” As he helps you down from the horse, your faces nearly collide as your feet touch the ground. He seems to want to kiss you, but holds back.

“I waited here for you for days when I got back.” He says, walking away from you and towards the house. “When you stopped sending me letters, I had a feeling you had changed your mind, but I still hoped.”

You blink, “You never got my letter?”

He turns back to you, now leaning against a half demolished wall, “Did you send me a letter to tell me you were marrying that wanker? I honestly thought it was kinder that you hadn’t.”

You swallowed, “Yes, I sent you a letter.”

“And what did it say?”

You sigh, suddenly you’re frustrated with him, “That was years ago, Tommy, can’t we move on?”

He laughs, but it’s cold, “For you it was years ago, I’ve been living in this hell you left me in ever since. I didn’t get to move on to palaces and dinner parties and expensive champagne. I came back here and started another war, all in the hopes that one day I could provide for you and you would come home. And all the while you’ve been sleeping in another man’s bed.”

You look down at your feet. You understand the anger and the resentment he holds. After all, you knew when you sent that letter if he survived the war he would never forgive you. But here he was, some sort of dark, fallen angel, standing in front of you. Spreading over you again like ivy, the same way he had when you were younger. “I know I can’t take back the pain I’ve caused,” He was already scoffing and turning away from you, “But I’m here now. And so are you. And all I know is that being with you again makes me feel something and I haven’t felt anything since I sent out that letter.”

“So just like that, you think everything’s fixed?” He storms up to you, trapping you against the wall behind you. “You think you can just pop back in, say you’re sorry, and everything’s all better?”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed with his display of anger, “Of course not, Tommy, I’m not stupid.” You reach your hand out and delicately trail your fingers down his chest, “I just think… That it’d be a shame to deny each other what we both want.”

Without warning his hand clamps around your wrist and slams it against the wall behind you. It doesn’t hurt, really, but he did catch you off guard so you wince anyway.

He leaned forward until his lips brushed your ear, “Who said you could touch me without explicit permission?”

A chill went down your spine at the sound of his voice and you find yourself smirking, “Don’t need permission to touch what belongs to me.” You still know exactly what to say to piss him off.

He shoves you against the wall again, “You think this is fuckin’ funny, eh?” He leans down to look you eye to eye, “Am I laughing?” He pushes himself off the wall and turns away from you, “Always a fuckin’ joke to you.”

“Tommy, I thought… I’m sorry, I thought we were teasing--”

He rounds on you, “I don’t fuckin’ joke when it comes to you, do you understand? None of this is funny to me. It may be all a big joke to you with your fancy house and your upper class husband, but I lost the one thing in my life that had value and I don’t think it’s fuckin’ funny for you to shit all over the marriage that you thought was good enough to abandon me for in the first place!”

It’s all so absurd you nearly snort, “Do you think this is fun for me? Do you think I like living with the knowledge that I gave up the love of my life for someone who is rarely home, and when he is home doesn’t even spare me a second glance? My husband hasn’t kissed me in six months.”

“And so now you think you can have both?”

Tears shine in your eyes as you gaze up at him, “Can’t I?”

You can see the internal battle going on behind his eyes, caught between wanting you and not being able to truly have you. You knew he would give in to you, though, and maybe you felt a little guilty about that but you couldn’t afford to let your mind go there. You just needed someone to touch you, someone to really, truly desire you.

And Tommy gave in. He pushed you against the wall again, his mouth finding your mouth in a lust-filled frenzy. You moan in equal parts surprise and delight as his hands roam your body, pulling you up until your legs wrap around his waist, back firmly pressed to the wall.

You might pay for this sinful offense against your marriage one day, but today you will simply relish the way Tommy tastes.

***

“You’re quiet this morning.” Benjamin notes a week later during breakfast. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I heard you say a word. Is everything alright, darling?”

You look up from your plate where you had been pushing your egg around aimlessly and force a smile, “Everything is perfect, darling, why shouldn’t it be?”

He watches you closely for a moment, miles away on the opposite end of the dining table. You don’t believe he’s watched you like this since courting you. Then, in a flash, the moment is broken and he returns to his paper, “We should have dinner, just you and I. I have that business trip coming up and I’d like to spend some time with you before I go.”

You try not to narrow your eyes too deliberately at him. A proper lady never thinks too hard about her husband’s motives, she just acts delighted to be considered. But this was unlike him and you would find out why. “That would be lovely, dear.”

***

Your arm rests delicately on Benjamin’s as he takes you inside the restaurant he had made reservations in. He was going on and on about the lobster and how you should get one too and what drink to pair it with and it was all so fucking boring your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. You hadn’t seen Tommy since that day at the abandoned house.

Afterwards, he had taken you on the horse until you were a mile away from the house and insisted on being dropped there.

“I can take you further, he won’t see me.”

“It’s alright, Tommy. I like the walk.”

He had hopped off his horse with you and cradled your face in his hands, kissing you goodbye, “I’m still upset with you.” He said and kissed you again, harder. He bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you yelp, “This doesn’t change anything.”

But it changed everything, hadn’t it? For you, at least. You understood Tommy’s anger and resistance though. Maybe this would be the only taste of him he’d ever allow you again while you rotted away in that mansion of stone. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage, your foreheads still pressed together, before lightly pushing yourself off him and walking down the road without looking back.

Eventually, you heard his horse walk away and you did your best not to cry.

“Darling?” Benjamin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. The two of you now sit at a small table in the corner. You’re buttering a roll absently, you couldn’t remember picking up the bread. “Darling, are you alright? I’ve been asking you to pass the butter.”

“Yes,” You said, reaching across the table with the butter dish in hand, “I’m sorry, my mind ran away from me.”

“And what were you thinking about?” He asks, taking the butter from you.

You blink, shocked that he would ask you such a thing, “Sorry?”

“What’s got your mind so occupied that I can’t seem to keep your attention?” He smiles when he says it and you realize he’s… teasing you.

“Oh, it’s nothing darling, I was just thinking about a dress I wanted to buy. I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening to you.”

He sighs greatly and for a moment you’re scared. Somehow he knows. He must know, otherwise-- “I realize that I haven’t been the best husband as of late. I don’t know what you spend your days doing, what you like, what you don’t like. I don’t kiss you in the morning or the evening when I come home from work--”

You’re shaking your head, “Benjamin--”

“You’ve been the perfect wife. Taking care of the house and entertaining guests, going out to the shop when I need something even if I haven’t asked. And I’ve ignored you. Aren’t you angry with me?”

Your eyes water and you sit back in your chair, looking down at your lap. Taking a breath you look back up at him, “You’re my husband.” You shrug, “I do what I must even if I don’t get anything in return.”

He hesitantly covers your hand with his own, “I’ll be better. I promise.” He sits back, “That friend that you went to lunch with the other day, what was her name?”

The fear returns all over again as you lightly dab at your eyes, “Martha, she’s a friend from Oxford.” The lie comes easily, too easily.

“Is she married?” Before you can answer, his eyes light up, “Oh! She must be that gentleman’s wife, the one who was at the party last week. Shelby, I believe his name was.”

Slowly, you nod, “Yes, that’s right. Martha’s husband is Thomas.”

“You should invite them for dinner, after my trip!”

Oh, fuck. “Oh, Benjamin, that’s so sweet of you dear, but you don’t have to--”

“I do.” He covers his hand with yours again, “I want to learn more about you. Your friends. What better way to do that than get to know the people you grew up with?”

You force a smile, “That sounds lovely.”

He smiles back, “It’s settled then! You iron out the details while I’m away and then just let me know which evening, alright, dear?”

“Of course.” You say, still forcing that smile. How the fuck were you going to get out of this one?

***

“Are you out of your mind?” You had summoned Tommy yet again by drinking at the Garrison and he had stormed in here ready to toss you over his shoulder and kick you out himself. But you had managed to get him to share a drink with you and you told him your new predicament.

“Well, yes, but that’s hardly the point.” He looks so annoyed with you, you almost laugh, “Please, Tommy. I’ll never bother you again.”

He snorts, “Yeah, that’ll be the day.” He knocks back the rest of his whiskey and then pushes the glass to the bartender, signaling for another, “This is really what you want?”

You bite your lip, “He seems sincere. Like he really wants to try.”

“But do you love him? Do you love him the way you love me?”

No. There would never be a love for you like Tommy. You look down at your hands. Either way you answer, Tommy will be hurt. But at least this way he could go on thinking that you’re happy. That you don’t need him. Maybe this way he’d fall in love with somebody else. The thought sent daggers through your heart, but you knew you had no one to blame for that but yourself. He should be happy, he deserved that. “Yes.” You lied.

His eyes shuttered and he looked away from you, “Alright. I’ll help you, then.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you.”

“Now get the hell out of my bar.”

You manage a small smile and nod, sneaking out without another word.

***

The door buzzed and you nearly smiled, “That’ll be the guests, darling.” You moved behind Benjamin, squeezing his shoulder as you passed, “I’ll get it.”

When you opened the door and saw Tommy standing there with a tall, beautiful woman, you couldn’t deny the hurt that rushed through you. You had asked him to bring someone, you reminded yourself, you had told him he needed to bring a fake wife.

You step aside to let them through, “It’s good to see you, Tommy. Martha. Come in.”

“Your home is so lovely,” The woman said. You weren’t sure if you just felt like she was staring daggers at you or if she was. How much did this woman know of you and Tommy? Just from the way she looked at Tommy, you could tell she had feelings for him. He had probably fucked her at some point. You ignore the painful tightening of your stomach at the thought. Tommy, for his part, seemed bored by her.

“Thank you.” You gestured for the maid to take their coats and you couldn’t help the way your breath caught as Tommy took his off. Then his hat. And his gloves. Those hands and those rings and-- You looked from his left hand to hers. They were wearing wedding rings. You supposed it shouldn’t have surprised you, they were supposed to be married. But the sight painfully stole all the breath from your lungs. You wondered if this was how Tommy felt when he saw you. You turned away from it and guided them into the drawing room, immediately going to get a drink while Benjamin bored them with talk of business.

You didn’t expect for it to hurt so much, seeing him with someone else. Even if they were just fucking, you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you stumbled into the kitchen. The kitchen staff ignored you as you braced your hands on a table, looking down at it and trying to catch your breath. They were used to you having breakdowns here. The staff liked you because you treated them like people when Benjamin wasn’t around. When he was on his trips, you’d invite them all to eat with you in the dining room and they were some of the most fun dinners you’d had since marrying Benjamin. So they let you cry in here and didn’t speak a word of it.

When the kitchen doors open abruptly, you stand immediately, expecting Benjamin, but it’s Tommy who stands there instead. “What are you doing back here?” You asked with annoyance.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, and you hate the concern that floods his face.

“You shouldn’t be back here, Benjamin might come looking for me--”

“I told him I would go look for you, he seems quite charmed by Lizzie, he won’t come looking.”

“So her name’s Lizzie then? She’s lovely.”

He’s quiet a moment, “So you’re sulking in here because I brought another woman here, something you asked me to do.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“We should go back out there,” You begin to walk around him, but his hand clasps on your upper arm and pulls you back.

“Does it hurt? Knowing I’m fucking someone else?” He whispers in your ear.

Tears sting your eyes and you realize he’s done this on purpose. He wanted to hurt you. You look up into those ice blue eyes to show him yours that are shining with tears, “Are you happy now?” You wrenched your arm from his grasp and left the kitchen, putting on a smiling face as you left.

Tommy watches you closely for most of the evening and you think that normally Benjamin might notice his predatory gaze, but Tommy was right. He’s enamored by Lizzie. They share touches and longing glances, even when you place your arm on top of Benjamin’s to signal that he’s yours. He just pats your hand and draws his arm out from under yours all without looking away from Lizzie. So when Tommy excuses himself for a smoke, you follow him out, not even bothering to excuse yourself.

“Ol’ Benjamin is really giving it his best shot with you, eh?” Tommy says immediately when you walk outside. You don’t say anything, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your anger. “Can’t say I blame him,” He continues, “Lizzie’s a great fuck.”

You close your eyes, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what am I doing, love?” He makes the endearment sound condescending and you hate him for that.

“You’re trying to get me angry so I’ll admit that I lied to you about loving Benjamin.”

“I saw the way you looked at the wedding rings when I took off my gloves,” He inhales on the cigarette in his hand, “I don’t need you to say it.”

“Then what, you’re just rubbing it in because you’re a sadistic fuck?”

“So you are angry, then.”

“Yes!” You threw up your hands in exasperation, “Yes, I’m fucking angry that I thought maybe Benjamin did love me only to see him touch and look at that woman in there more than he’s touched me in over a year! And I’m fucking angry that you are also fucking her! I’m jealous, I’m fucking burning with how jealous I am that she gets to touch you and I don’t! Is that what you want to hear, you fucking prick?!”

God help you, he has a cool smile on his lips, “Yes, sweetheart. That’s what I wanted to hear. Would you like to go make your husband terribly jealous?” He reaches a hand out to you.

You’re frowning at him and you shake your head, “I don’t understand.”

“Sure you do, I’m helping you get what you want.”

“But why?”

He lowers his hand, “Do you want the truth or the lie?”

You swallow, “Truth.”

He brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, “Are you sure? It’ll break your heart.” He says softly.

You smile sadly and bring his hand to your chest, right above your heart. Your eyes glitter with unshed tears as you look at him, “Already broken.”

You almost miss his sharp intake of breath at your admission. You suppose he’s happy, happy that you were in so much pain after shattering his heart. “So?” You say.

“The truth is that,” He swallows, “The only thing that hurts me more than you not being mine is seeing you so fuckin’ sad. So let me help you.” You look up at him with those big sad eyes that practically scream at him how much you love him. He can’t stand to look another second, “Come on.” He offers you his hand again.

You place your small hand in his and he brings you back inside, not even dropping your hand as you pass your husband and Lizzie who are looking even cozier than when you left. He brings you to the drawing room in view of the dining room and finally drops your hand to go to the gramophone.

You feel Benjamin’s eyes on your back, but you don’t turn, focusing on Tommy.

A smile breaks out on his face, “I knew you’d have it.”

He holds up a record that the two of you used to listen to so often, you had had to replace the record a couple years back. A small smile forms on your lips, “Tommy, are you sure?”

When the two of you were together, you had taken a dance class together, mostly as a joke, but then you surprised yourselves when you had so much fun with it. Soon, you were choreographing dances together and Tommy was spinning you around that abandoned house. It seemed lifetimes ago and you couldn’t believe that the man who went to France and came back ready to kill any man standing in his way would still know or want to dance with you like when you were barely adults. But he’s beaming at you now, hand extended and the song is starting.

Biting your lip to hide your smile, you curtsy to him before taking his hand and he did a slight bow in response. And then he’s whisking you around the room. You can tell he hasn’t done this in a while and neither had you, but as the song picks up you lock eyes with him. You hadn’t seen him this happy since before the war. The sight sends such a thrill through you, you laugh, and suddenly you’re both in sync.

The weight of both Benjamin’s and Lizzie’s stares nearly break you, “It’s just me and you,” Tommy whispers, noticing how the light had dimmed from you just a little, “Focus on me.” And you do, losing yourself in the music and Tommy’s touch. Tommy dips you, your head falling back and upside down, you can see Benjamin and Lizzie, their eyes on you just like you thought. Tommy pulls you back up and you nearly crash into his chest as the song ends. He clutches your hand to him and your foreheads nearly touch as you both breathe hard.

There’s footsteps behind you and you turn to look to Benjamin, a smile still on your face, and his hand collides with your cheek. There’s only silence for a few seconds and it takes you all of those seconds to realize that Benjamin has hit you and before you’ve reached that conclusion, Tommy’s fist is already connecting with Benjamin’s jaw.

“Stop, stop.” You reach for Tommy to pull him off your husband, “Tommy, that’s enough!”

He had only punched Benjamin twice before you were able to pull him off and then he’s looking at you, “Are you alright?” There’s such concern in his eyes, he even brings his hands up to your face, eyes darting back and forth to assess the damage.

But your husband is still here so you push him away, “I’m fine, you should go.”

He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, “I won’t leave you with him.” He says quietly enough that you’re sure you’re the only one who heard him.

“Yes you will.” You look at him with cold, calculated calm. Your husband is still lying on the floor with stupid Lizzie coddling him, “You both should go.” You repeat.

Tommy is still staring at you and Lizzie has risen from where she was crouching next to your husband, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm, “Thomas, let’s go.”

You hate the familiarity of the touch, you’re able to tell she’s done it several times before. “Listen to your wife.” You say bitterly and that ice in his eyes is back. He simply backs away from you, Lizzie pulling him out the door.

“You humiliate me.” Benjamin says, now sitting upright and dabbing at blood at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. It gives you sick satisfaction that Tommy had made him bleed.

“You humiliate yourself.” You say coldly.

“You danced with him like… Like you were some whore.”

You flinch at the insult, “I told you I knew him from Oxford, we took ballroom together. We were simply reminiscing.”

“You think me an imbecile,” He chuckles, “I saw the way you looked at each other. You’ve never once looked at me like that.”

Now you laugh and the sound makes him flinch, “Benjamin, when we met I looked at you like the sun and the moon set on your command, do not insinuate otherwise.” Your voice shakes with anger, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to touch and talk to me the way you talked to Tommy's wife all goddamn night. That’s why I danced with him. I wanted to make you jealous, I didn’t think you’d hit me.”

He’s shaking his head, “That doesn’t change the fact that you once bedded that man and then brought him into my house.”

You stare at him blankly, “If I recall correctly, you were the one who invited him here. And I daresay, Benjamin, with the way you were with his wife I have no doubt what you do on those business trips. I will not be made the villain when all I’ve done is begged for your love from day one.” He looks away from you at that and you relish how you’ve made him submit to you after being submissive for so long, “I’m going to bed, you’re welcome to wallow here in your weakness if you’d like.”

***

Tommy drives in silence with Lizzie next to him, quietly fuming. He has half a mind to turn around and drag you from that house himself, but he knew you’d never forgive him for that. “Was a bit daft to dance with her like that in front of her husband, don’t you think, Tom?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, the only indication of his agitation, “Was a bit daft to flirt with her husband in front of her for three straight hours, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

“He advanced on me--”

“No,” Tommy’s shaking his head, “No, don’t give me that bullshit. You knew what she meant to me and you went in there to purposely hurt her. Well congratu-fucking-lations Lizzie, you won.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy seeing her hurting after she left you.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know.” He said dangerously.

“Fine, Tommy,” She says, slumping in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest, “Let her destroy you again, went so well for you the first time.”

He doesn’t respond as he knows there is some truth to what Lizzie is saying. He would let you destroy him again, he would give you his last breath if that was what you wanted.

***

When you wake the next morning, Benjamin is gone. The maid told you he left in the early hours of the morning and handed you a note.

I know what he is and I know what you are. Don’t be here when I return.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Who had told him? How had he figured it out?

The answer was obvious. It had to have been fucking Thomas, trying to force your hand after you refused to leave with him. You crumpled the note and ran back upstairs to get dressed. You figured you had a few days until Benjamin came home, maybe you could still sort it out. The first order of business was going to yell at Tommy.

***

When he sees you walking down the streets of Small Heath looking murderous, he wonders what he’s done. Maybe this is a response to the previous night, but you hadn’t seemed homicidal when he left you.

“What the fuck did you tell him?” You greeted him by shoving him against the nearest building. He raised his arms in bored surrender, not wanting to cause a scene, but you didn’t seem to care about that, “Did you turn around and come back and tell him everything? Do you think I’ll run off with you now that I have nowhere to go?” Tears run down your cheeks now and he frowns in concern, “Well I won’t. I’m fucking done with you, Thomas Shelby. I don’t care if I have to beg on the streets--”

“What are you talking about?” He interjects finally. You look him over, eyes darting over his face and you can see there’s genuine confusion there. He didn’t do this.

Rubbing at your eyes, you sit on the nearest surface, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, “He knows who you are. Which means he knows who I am. He’s kicking me out.”

He gently puts a hand on your elbow, “Come inside. Please.”

For once, you let yourself be guided. He brings you inside the building that says Shelby Company Limited on the outside and then suddenly the rest of the Shelby family is staring at you.

“Tommy,” Polly says softly, staring at you with a hand on her heart, “You told us she was dead.”

You blink and then turn to Tommy who won’t look at any of you, “She was.”

Tommy Shelby had told his whole family that you were dead rather than go through the humiliation of explaining that you had left your old life behind in favor of another. Left him behind. You supposed, in a way, you had died.

Polly’s gaze drifts to your hand where you’re fiddling with your wedding ring. “Oh, Tommy. Tell me you haven’t killed someone’s husband.”

“Not yet,” The words send a jolt through you, “Stay here.” He orders, squeezing your shoulder.

“Tommy, wait,” He turns back to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to kill him before he ruins you and then you’ll have your pick of any lord you’d like. Maybe one of them will actually love you this time. Isn’t that what you want?”

It feels like a dig though you’re not sure he meant it to be one, “No.”

Sensing the energy in the room, the rest of Tommy’s family dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

“What d’ya mean ‘no’?” There’s a bit of anger in his voice, “You don’t want to be with me, you don’t want to be a lady anymore, are you gonna live on the streets?”

“For your information, Thomas, if I wanted I could make a living for myself,” He scoffs. “But you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes glittering with tears, “I do want to be with you.” After finally uttering the words, you brace yourself for rejection.

He stares at you and then rubs a hand over his face. He begins shaking his head, “You don’t mean that.”

You walk to him and reach your hands up to frame his face. You expect him to move away from your touch, but he doesn’t. When you gently stroke his face with your thumbs he closes his eyes and you truly understand how you had broken this man in front of you, “I do,” You say again, “And I’m sorry for ever making you think you didn’t deserve me.”

Finally, he does push your hands away and walks to the window on the far side of the room, his back to you, “I still want to kill him.” He says softly.

You frown, “Tommy--”

“If you weren’t in that room last night I would have kept punching and kicking and gouging his eyes out with my bare hands for daring to put a hand on you.” His voice is dangerously low, “Is that still the kind of man that you want?” He finishes bitterly.

He would kill a man for you. The thought sends a thrill through you. “I’ve spent the last few years of my life with a man who didn’t even attempt to learn my favorite type of jam, Tommy, do you understand?”

“It’s strawberry.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

He finally turns to you, “Your favorite jam, it’s strawberry. I used to wait in line for hours in the summer when strawberries were in season to get some for you.” He smiles a bit to himself at the memory, “It was always worth it for the smile and kiss on the cheek you gave me.”

Tears finally cascade down your cheeks as you recall the memory, “I’d forgotten about that.” You say softly, “Tommy, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”

“You told me minutes ago that you wouldn’t run off with me, that you were done--”

“I know,” You say, “That’s when I thought you had betrayed me, that you wanted to force me to be with you--”

“I would never force you to be with me.” He says fiercely, “I would never force this life, this fuckin’ hell, on anyone.”

You shake your head, “I know what you’ve become since you came home. Knowing all of that, knowing what you’re truly capable of, I still choose you. I know you’re my only chance of real happiness.”

He stares at you for another few moments, “So you’ll marry me, then? The whole bit?”

You smile, “I imagined this whole bit to be much more romantic, but yes, I’ll marry you, Thomas.”

“You can’t change your mind once Benjamin comes back, it’s me or you figure out your own way.”

“I’m not choosing you because of the money. I’ve had the money, all it did was make me miserable.”

He steps to you and runs a thumb over your lips, “You’re really mine then, eh?”

“You know,” Familiar mischief lights up your eyes, “Benjamin won’t be back for a few days… What do you say we drink his expensive wine straight from the bottle and fuck on every surface we can.”

Tommy finally cracks a smile, “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

You laugh and go up on your toes to kiss him. He immediately dips his head to you, breathing you in deep as he kisses you. His tongue slides along your lip until you open to him, awarding him with a soft moan. His tongue strokes against yours and you feel hot need for him pooling between your thighs when he pulls away.

He relishes the pout on your face at his absence, “Save it for Benjamin’s bed, princess.” He smirks and tugs you out of the building, lifting you onto your horse. And as he rides, your arms wrapped around his waist, you only wish you had had the wisdom to choose Tommy Shelby first.

[pemfrost]

Yo yo yo from your bingo card, Body Swap for Dimiclaude (DimitrixClaude)

*folds arms behind her back and scuffs her shoe on the ground* So, this became a whole… thing.

Idk what happened. It's too long for me to try and post to Tumblr, so the first bit is here and the full 20k is on ao3 <3

Dimitri did not hate every aspect of being King, which surprised him at first. Going from war and death to meetings and negotiations was a difficult transition, one he sometimes still struggled with. He would admit as such openly to his close friends that the first few months after his coronation had been challenging, and he still sometimes questioned if he was truly the correct choice to lead a unified Fodland. But, he didn't hate it, not all of it. 

He actively worked to change people's lives for the better, officially pardoned the people of Duscur, and welcomed negotiations with the people from Sreng. Still, he hated the meetings required for such good things to happen. Hated the stuffy rooms filled with nobles who had no care for how their actions would affect the common people, hated how they each had their own agenda which often contradicted the very thing Dimitri was trying to achieve. 

But most of all, he hated how lonely his life had become. 

After Professor Byleth helped guide him back from the edge of his own darkness, he'd been surrounded by friends and allies. During the war there was always someone nearby ready to talk, or listen, or spar. Now, his friends were scattered across the country, and Dimitri couldn’t summon them from their important work just because he wanted to have dinner with a friend instead of eating alone again. 

Thankfully, Dedue and Ingrid were often in Fhridad as part of their own projects and travels. Though, they barely had time to spare for personal time with their King. Dedue always ensured they caught up over dinner at least once when he visited, and they wrote to each other often.

And, of course, where would he be without his closest advisors? Sylvain and Felix were his constants after the war, by his side for important meetings and always available to discuss strategy. But, they each had their own lives to attend. Felix had Annette, and Sylvain…. Dimitri didn't want to know what Sylvain got up to. 

He looked forward to seeing them, but wished there was time for strictly social visits. As it stood, he hadn't seen many of them in months. When he announced a trade summit with Almyra, he'd anticipated pushback from even those he counted as close allies. Yet, they supported his vision nonetheless They would all arrive soon to offer their support and opinions on his negotiations with Almyra. He wished it would be a social visit, but he would accept what little he could. 

The Almyran King arrived mere hours ago, and the castle was abuzz with last minute preparations for the trade negotiations. Dimitri took advantage of his staff being distracted to roam the castle, trying to pace the anxiety out of his system. 

Of course, he couldn't do so in peace. 

"Your Majesty, this is a terrible idea. I again urge you to-" 

Dimitri cut off the noble with a curt wave of his gloved hand. Lord Barelow was the most outspoken of the city's nobles, arguing his case whenever an opposition presented itself. Now he was resorting to cornering Dimitri in the hallways without a care of who would overhear. 

"I hope you will be courteous to our guests while they are here. Save your objections for tomorrow's meeting." His patience was waning before they'd even begun. 

The noble sulked off down the hallway, no doubt going off to devise another way to ruin Dimitri's mood. 

"Glad I'm not the only one getting pushback," a familiar voice said from the shadows of the thick curtains adorning a window. 

"Claude," Dimitri whirled around. The King of Almyra smirked back at him, looking incredibly lively despite the long journey he just undertook. No, not Claude, he reminded himself. "Er, King Khalid."

"Oh please, don't you get all formal with me, too." He was dressed down, a simple outfit instead of what one would expect a foriegn king to wear, no doubt intended to blend in. Still his clothes were ornate and sported the colors of Almyra, reminding Dimitri once again of how much had changed since they were in school. It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Dimitri nodded, "I apologize if I have offended you. Is there a reason you are wandering the hallways of the castle alone? You must be exhausted from your trip, if you need something, I have staff who-"

Claude waved his hand, "No, no. I just needed to stretch my legs. I wasn't expecting to run into you, rumor has it you're always in your office."

Despite himself, Dimitri's lips ticked upward. "Or in a council meeting. I am sure your life has become similar."

"In a way, yeah." Claude crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall, not hiding his careful appraisal of Dimitri. For a moment his eyes softened, "You look good. Peace suits you."

Keep reading:

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.04

10/23/2020

Strong Arms and Honest Kisses

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 3,636

Warnings: failed relationships, talks of lonliness, angst, FLUFF, complicated relationships

A/N: This one is a little shorter than my chapters recently. Part of this is because this felt like a complete chapter but I also did a lot of rewriting with this one. I wrote half of it, then deleted it. Then wrote it again. Then deleted it. I finally got a good flow going and this is the one I liked the most. I hope y’all like it too. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please do not REPOST my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

The walk back to your room is awkward.

Full of fluttering hesitant energy.

There’s a new electricity between your body and Thor’s as he walks beside you, heavy feet falling slowly, with forethought.

He has his hands behind his back, feeling the need to keep them to himself after what happened in the garden.

You appreciate the space.

“That was my first kiss.” You admit, hating the silence between you because it feels like both of you want to say so much but are unwilling to speak first.

“Oh,” Thor laments, his gaze wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” You rush to reassure him, shrugging a shoulder as you look straight once more. “I-I mean, you wanted a maiden, right? A virgin?”

When you look at him, he’s blushing, his cheeks a soft pink underneath that hay colored beard.

It’s cute and you feel a surge of warmth for him fill your chest.

“That wasn’t necessarily what I wanted.” He clarifies.

“Oh…” Your turn to lament. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a flurry of worries come rushing forward. You don’t have any experience. None. Zero. Tonight has been the most action you’ve ever seen in your life.

No one has ever held your hand.

No one has ever been so caring and sweet.

No one has definitely ever kissed you.

No one has ever proposed.

You have no experience to offer Thor, as a wife, will you be able to satisfy him?

He’s a literal God. He’s really, super old, and has probably slept with lots of women…or…beings? Aliens?

How are you going to live up to that?

“I just…I’ve never even really liked anyone, so I never was with anyone, and I’m sorry-” You fret, stopping to look up at him.

He places his hands over yours, stopping your fidgeting.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He whispers gently.

You meet his blue eye and it’s just as soft as his voice.

“We can talk about that part of our marriage later. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“But I-I don’t know what to do with that. I mean, I kinda know but I don’t know. I don’t want to-I’m kinda scared of-”

Thor’s blush returns and your own neck is suddenly burning.

That previously terrifying image of Thor prying your legs open that you’d imagined back at home replays itself in your mind, this time the fear is not for the man himself but the act in general.

Thor’s hands finding the side of your neck interrupt your vocal vomit.

With you silenced, he traces the lines of your shoulders, the length of your arms before he takes hold of your elbows over your cloak which is keeping them warm.

“We have time, cherub.” The pet name comes out of nowhere and sounds so strange but good and you’re not sure you know how to breathe anymore. “Time to worry about many things later. Tonight, let’s just enjoy this agreement to try.”

With a lick to your lips, you nod, shutting your eyes as you’re overwhelmed by not only the pleasure that stupid pet name has given you but also his hands still wrapped around your elbows.

“Thank you for telling me.” Thor whispers, pulling you a little closer. “These are things that are good to know. I will be sure to make preparations for us.”

“Preparations?” You nearly squeak.

“Things to make it easier for you. But as I said,” his ears grow nice and red too, now. “We have plenty of time to think about that later. Almost three days!”

You scoff, “That’s not a lot of time, Thor.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I suppose you’re right.”

“This is happening so fast.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I’ve been putting this choice off for so long that now that I’ve made it, they want me to follow through quickly.” Thor takes a step back, reaching down to take your hand.

You eagerly hold his hand back, grateful for the comfort it gives you but also you really like holding his hand, you realize.

“Let’s get you to bed. Even though Hilde was completely drunk, she’ll still wake up early enough to make you hate her.” He pulls you along, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze every few steps.

“Thor?”

“Hm?” He asks, not sparing you a glance.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Your own eyes are glued to his hand around yours.

You seriously like the way his hand looks around yours. Why are you letting yourself fall this hard? It’s not right. It’s not fair. To you. To him.

“Do what?” He asks, genuinely confused.

“This.” You give your hand a shake, the two of you rounding the corner to the hall where your room is.

He doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the door. He twists the knob and pulls it open, stepping in with you before turning to close it.

Swallowing hard, you try not to lose your breath again. There’s a pressure in your chest that you know is coming from the way he shut that door.

He turns, strutting towards you as he keeps hold of your hand. You take several steps back until your legs hit the edge of your bed forcing you to sit.

For a moment you think he might move over you, just like that image in your head. Instead he sits down beside you.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, pulling your hand over onto his lap.

“I hope so.” You relax, waiting patiently as he takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen Jane in almost three months.” He explains. “She’s been secluded in an installation in the middle of nowhere. In Wyoming? And I’ve been so busy here…this is the same struggle we always have. I cannot get away because of my own duties now much more formal and inescapable as King. And Jane’s work has always been the most important thing to her.

“I knew that when we agreed to try again but I was hoping that we might both take some time to prioritize our relationship. Jane was the first person I met when I was sent here. She was kind and patient. She was brilliant. Smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than Stark and Banner, don’t tell them I told you that.” He smiles. “But it’s that very brain that keeps her focus elsewhere. And I don’t begrudge her that passion. It’s one of the reasons I fell for her.

“But we don’t seem to be able to make it work.”

Hearing him praise her so much, love her so openly dries your throat and you can’t swallow to push past the lump there to speak. So, you say nothing.

“This,” Thor pulls your hand up a little, readjusting and holding it more securely. “This feels good.”

That helps.

“But you wish it was her?” You wonder.

Thor goes silent, averting his eyes to his hand around yours.

“Not anymore.” He sighs. “Until tonight, I would have said yes. I would have given anything for you to be Jane. To marry the woman I love? How could I not want that? It’s what I’ve always hoped for.”

You feel disappointment pull your body down, shoulders slumped, head falling so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You feel strong fingers take hold of your chin, gently tilting your head back until you can meet his electric blue eye.

“When I met you, I was surprised. I’d met with woman, after woman, after woman, after woman-”

“Alright, I get it.” You frown.

Thor stops to laugh but then nods, “Sorry. I only mean that every woman I met, all the other princesses and duchesses and ladies once related to direct royal families were kind but there was something calculating about the way they spoke. They were careful with the things they said and I didn’t feel like I was really getting to know them.”

“But with me?”

“With you, I-it was like recognizing someone that I’d known my whole life. You sat there, terrified but unable to keep from speaking your mind. You were honest about not wanting to marry for anything but love and I understood how you felt. I’d made up my mind not to choose you then. I didn’t want to take from you what was being taken from me, but I-the more I thought about marrying one of those women…I told myself I would let you find someone you could be with, even as my wife.

“We’d keep it secret. You could be with them and I would give you your privacy and let you live that life while protecting it for you.” He sighs. “Then you came here, and dinner brought me hope. I didn’t think that you could ever want to feel any other way for me than that disappointment I saw cross your face when I asked you to marry me and live your life with me without feeling loved.”

“Neither did I.” You confess, words coming out in a rush. “I hated you when I came here. I hated my family for being related to royalty. I hated that I was suddenly being asked to think about shit that I honestly, didn’t even care about! And then I met you and you were nice and confused and you asked me that stupid fucking question about my ideal marriage and I had no one else to picture so I pictured you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Thor smiles, “If I’m honest, that’s also what drew me to you. To be fair though, I didn’t ask any of the other women that question, but it was clear without them having to say so that they were after the prestige that comes with being a human Queen of Asgard.”

“But I know that you still love her.” You continue, ignoring the sweet smile he’s giving you because your mind will not stop fretting. “I know that you’d much rather have it be Jane so, I’m only saying that you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand or show me affection when you don’t feel it.”

Thor sighs heavily, a huff as he takes hold of your head with both massive hands and pulls you towards him to meet his lips.

This time your surprise only lasts a second before you squeeze your eyes shut and pucker your lips back against his.

You can feel his body shake and you tear your eyes open, searching for what’s making him laugh but find him watching you.

He pulls back, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“Relax. There’s no need to be nervous.” He whispers, deep. It settles in your chest cavity and you really like the sound of his voice.

“I’ve never kissed before.” You remind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Kissing is easy.” Thor tells you. “Just pucker your lips,”

You do as he asks, self-conscious but eager to feel that kiss again.

“Then let me do the rest.” He pulls you back to him and your eyes shut as his lips meet yours.

It’s only a peck. A held one. Until Thor’s hands guide your head to the right as he tilts his to the left and suddenly his lips are overlapping your own. They’re hot, wet, and his breath tickles.

You jump as the tip of his tongue rolls along the seam of your mouth and without making the choice to do it, you open for him and he delves in slowly. Your body is suddenly humming, your mind overcome, and it all feels like a dream.

He inhales as he kisses you, tongue swirling around your own and you don’t know what to do so you reach out to grip the edge of his armor around his chest, hands fisted around the leather while he leads you in this dizzy dance.

He tilts your head the other way, breaking the kiss to take a breath giving you a second to gasp, but then he’s back on you, smothering your whimper of surprise with his lips.

As he presses against yours again, he dives in with more excitement, mouth open, tongue tasting.

You’re trembling, legs shaking with nerves as your hands hold on harder.

As he pulls away, lips smacking quietly, he caresses your cheeks again, letting you come down from your high.

He waits patiently until your eyes open, searching wildly to see what you might find in his.

All you find is his own searching, his own curiosity.

“Um…” You mumble, voice barely audible.

“If you let me in,” He says, his breath washing over your lips again making the past few minutes replay in vivid color. “I will open for you. I think we can do this right. I want to do this right. Will you do this with me?”

Your hands are shaking around his arm, still reeling from that kiss. Holy shit.

“I already said yes.” You point out.

“Say it again.” Thor pleads, scooting closer.

You’re almost completely pulled against his chest, hands squished between your bodies.

“This is happening so fast.” You gasp, confused but happy.

“It has to.” He nods. “I want it to.”

“But how do I know it’s real?” You wonder, and to answer you, Thor crushes you against his chest, head dipping until he meets your lips again.

“It’s real.” He says, tilting your head again, coaxing your mouth open.

You respond more eagerly this time, letting your tongue swirl around his to meet it in its frenzy. Your heart pounds with excitement. This is new and you can understand why people like it. You’ve wondered in passing what it would feel like when you saw it happen in films and shows, taking the books you’d read as gospel for what it feels like but they pale in comparison to the reality.

It’s a haze of pleasure. Foggy but the emotions sharp. It’s also possessive. It feels like yours now. This with Thor can never belong to anyone else. The very thought of it being felt by someone else breaks your heart and also boils your blood.

It makes you bolder, pulling him closer where you have hold of him.

“Let me in.” Thor whispers against your lips, giving you one small final peck. “It’s real for me, I swear to you.”

Can you trust him?

Everything he’s said so far makes sense. His disillusionment with his relationship with Jane is not fake. You were able to hear the sadness in his voice, the acceptance when he explained what was happening with her.

“If you can try to love me, I will try to love you.” He whispers, reaching down with his thumb to trace the shape of your lower lip.

You shut your eyes, seduced by his touch.

“You’re not playing fair,” You sigh. “This is coercion.”

Opening your eyes, you find Thor smiling, and you wonder if this is what he looks like when he likes someone. Is this him smitten?

You don’t think so.

You can’t wrap your mind around him being anything but tolerant of you. He’d been so vocal about loving Jane that you can’t see how only meeting with you twice might override that, even if they are currently struggling.

“I already told you yes! Brunnhilde was right about you.”

“And I want to hear you say it again. For good measure.” He traces the line of your jaw, cup your chin from beneath once he reaches it. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’ll try with me. We’ll do everything in our power and devote ourselves to each other. You’ll love me and I will love you.”

His words give your stomach flutters and the way he’s holding your chin makes it so that you can’t look away to clear your head.

So, you nod. “I will love you, Thor. We’ll make this work. As long as you never touch me unless you really want to. I don’t want you to force it. I want it to be real.”

Desperately, you want it. Now more than ever.

“Deal.” Thor says, then wraps one arm around your shoulders and meets your lips again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake with a gasp, reaching around for something though you don’t know what. No one had slept with you.

The bed is rightfully empty. As you sit up, you remember every little detail of last night. The words that were spoken, the declarations made, the kisses.

Oh, fuck, the kisses!

You lay back down, heart pounding while you urge yourself to think of every single shift of Thor’s lips against your own.

They’d been so hot, and wet once he’d French kissed you. His tongue had been thick and smooth in its movements. Skilled though you don’t know what you’d compare it to in order to know that for sure.

His arms had been huge and strangely safe. Wrapped up around you, he’d been a powerhouse of heat and strength, lulling you into a calm you’ve never felt before.

Reaching up to scratch your forehead, a small shine catches your eye, and you find your engagement ring, dazzling you with its beauty and the memory of Thor on one knee.

For a moment you’re almost sure that you’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. A good dream that you had no idea you could ever have wanted.

Then a knock on your door makes you jump, and you sit up again.

Through the door marches Brunnhilde with the swagger of a soldier heading into battle, her clothes relaxed however, plain jeans, a red sweater, and heavy work boots.

“Good!” She smiles at you, “You’re awake! Estrid, bring in Her Highness’s breakfast and set aside one of the other dresses His Majesty bought for her.”

“I’m wearing another uncomfortable dress?” Your sorrow is clear and Brunnhilde smiles at you, her eyes flitting towards your ring. “So, that’s what they were up to.”

You follow her gaze and take a long look at your ring, “Who?”

“Loki and Thor.” Estrid moves past Brunnhilde, heading towards the desk at the far side of the room and places it there before she hurries to the armoire to sift through the dresses. “They’d disappeared a few days ago, went shopping or so they said. I didn’t believe them but clearly, they told me the truth. Just didn’t think they were shopping for a ring. It’s pretty.”

“It’s a lotus flower.” You tell her, throwing your blankets back and sliding to the edge of the bed. “He said he didn’t know that I liked flowers but was happy that I did since I’d like the ring more.”

“He said that?” She wonders, grabbing your robe from the vanity seat then offering it to you.

Taking it, you slip it on and tie it loosely around your waist. The smell of the food pulls you to the desk and you sit, immediately picking apart the eggs and toast.

“Mm.” You nod. “He did. He also said that he really wants to try. He’s willing to really give us a shot.”

Brunnhilde sits on the end of your bed, watching you eat with the space between her eyes puckered.

“Then he’s chosen to give her up finally.” Brunnhilde realizes, surprise painting her tone.

You look at her, intrigued by her own surprise.

“Is that weird?”

“No. Not weird, just unlikely. I never thought he’d really give up on Jane. They were so in love in the beginning when we first arrived. They were always together. Slowly they saw each other less and less, but his devotion never wavered.” She explains.

This doesn’t make you feel good. In fact, hearing about how deep their love was—is—unsettles you.

Fork still in your mouth, you watch her, mind racing.

“Eat up, Your Highness.” Brunnhilde says, rising. “Get dressed and meet me in the main hall. We have to go into town for your wedding dress fitting.”

As she moves for the door and Estrid crosses the room to your bed to lay out a stunning navy dress that looks way too formal for a dress fitting, you turn in your seat, hands grasping the back as you twist to follow her.

“Is Thor awake?”

“Yes.” Brunnhilde nods. “He left about half an hour ago for Wyoming to go see Jane, I assume to break things off with her.”

“Oh,” You shrink, fears you didn’t know you could have choking you.

What if he sees her and realizes he loves her too much to let her go? What if she changes her mind and decides that watching him marry someone else is unbearable? She decides to marry him and then he comes back to tell you that she’s agreed to be Queen and he no longer needs you?

Last night had only cemented your growing feelings for Thor and there is no way you can ever go back to before those kisses.

“He’ll be back tonight.” Brunnhilde assures you, but it only drives you crazier.

Why does he need until tonight?

Why so long? How many kisses will he give her? How many hugs will she take?

You shouldn’t begrudge him this goodbye. You should accept that with it will come with tears and affection that you already see as yours. You don’t want her to have it but it’s not yours yet. It’s intended for you, but right now Thor’s love is still hers.

This God of Thunder has absolutely wrecked you and it’s clear to you that you can never go back to your little home without him. You can never live a life where his arms are not around you.

You’re absolutely fucked.

[professorrw]

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Two (The End)

Warnings: FLUFF, smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows

A/N: It’s the last chapter!!!! This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever posted on anything and I can’t believe how well it’s done! I also just hit 100 followers on here too! Thank you to everyone that’s read this series, I genuinely hope you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be tagged in future works message me or comment what franchise or character you want to be tagged in and I’ll add you!

As the winter holidays arrived, the castle found itself empty. Students departed to be with family, leaving only a handful behind with the teachers. Snow covered the castle and it's grounds, creating a winter wonderland for those that remained. The weather was extremely cold, although beautiful at the same time. Most stayed inside though, relaxing near a fire while drinking from hot mugs.

Students and teachers alike switched to casual attire for the holidays. Everyone in the castle was wrapped up in thick sweaters, trying to keep cozy. On Christmas night the Great Hall was lit with hundreds of candles, illuminating the room with a warm glow. Christmas trees, decorated with ornaments and garlands, lined the walls. For the few people that remained, a feast of turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, and other enticing items appeared on the tables.

Teachers ditched formalities and moved to sit with the students, who had all joined at the Gryffindor table. Since Voldemort's death, dislike and prejudice between houses had dwindled. Many of the former Death Eaters' children didn't return to school so most Slytherins were innocent students that just happened to be placed there. You, Remus, and Minerva chatted with Luna, who was going on about the new things her father had planned for the Quibbler.

Hermione and Ginny both decided to go to the Burrow to celebrate the holidays. Like you, they were both in new relationships. Just as you predicted, Harry and Ginny got back together, and Hermione and Ron finally confessed their feelings for one another. A while after the battle Hermione informed you of the impromptu kiss between her and Ron which caused them to realize their mutual feelings.

Harry and Ron were both starting their training to become Aurors, which made Hermione feel better that they weren't attending school. Things were moving forward in the blink of an eye. The battle felt like it was just yesterday, yet it had been more than half a year. It was nearly foreign to you that things could be calm for this long, but this was the new normal.

Remus squeezed your hand under the table. You smiled fondly at him as he began to stroke the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation made your whole body go fuzzy, that was the effect Remus had on you, even now. Over a year ago you both departed from the Burrow to be safe. Who would have known things would end up like this?

Even with the small crowd, dinner lasted longer than usual. Almost everyone was spending more time socializing than actually trying to eat. There was no need to be in a hurry, so you and your fellow teachers enjoyed the company of each other and the students.

Over an hour after the feast started, people began to leave the Great Hall and head to wherever they pleased. You and Remus were the last remaining in the Hall. You were about to leave as well when Remus stopped you, tugging on your hand to get your attention.

"Let's go on a walk."

It was lightly snowing outside and was getting dark, but the street lamps of Hogsmeade were wrapped in twinkling lights. The shops were open, allowing lone witches and wizards to stop by for something to drink and someone to talk to on Christmas. You had added gloves and a scarf to your already warm outfit and Remus had done the same. No matter how beautiful it was, you didn't want to catch a cold out there.

You and Remus strolled past the storefronts and stopped a little ways away from the end of the path. The light from the street lamps created a soft glow on Remus' face as he gazed at you. Your fingers of one of your hands were intertwined with Remus' and he brought that hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against your gloved knuckles.

You couldn't help but notice how quiet he was being. He didn't speak too much normally but as you walked he didn't talk and he still wasn't.

"Remus are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"I've been through a lot in my life yet, I would go through it all again if this were the outcome. Being with you... is all I could ever wish for. You are the light in my dark life. I have lost so much, so many people. Never again will I waste the time I have with the people I love. Y/N I know we haven't been together long, but you are everything to me. I would be a fool to not do this."

Remus stops talking and gets down on his knee. You're filled with emotions as you realize what's happening. He pulls a velvet box from his pocket and opens it in front of you. Inside lies the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

"Y/N Y/L/N, I promise to always be by your side, no matter the circumstances. I want to be yours for the rest of time. I will cherish every moment spent with you as if it were my last. Will you marry me?"

You sink on your knees and wrap your arms around Remus. Tears stream from your eyes as he returns the embrace. "Of course I will."

He gives you a long kiss before taking your hand in his. He pulls the glove off your hand and slips the ring on your finger. Everything felt so perfect. Nothing could possibly make this moment more special. No words could describe the pure joy you felt.

......

The next few months leading up to your wedding was a whirlwind. You and Mrs. Weasley corresponded daily making arrangements leading up to the wedding in June. You and Remus agreed you wanted to get married as soon as possible.

You sat in your bedroom with Hermione and Ginny, your maids of honor. They were dressed in beautiful champagne colored dresses that you picked out together. Your stomach was doing flips inside of you. In just a few minutes you would walk down the aisle, Remus at the end of it. The thought made your heart flutter.

There was a light knock on the door. Mr. Weasley poked his head in, "The music is starting girls. Harry and Ron are waiting at the door for you two."

Harry was Remus' best man and Ron was his groomsman. You walked down the hall and to the double doors that led to your backyard. In front of you Harry and Ginny linked arms and began to walk out. Trailing after them was Hermione and Ron. Mr. Weasley held his arm out for you to take and looked over at you.

"You've grown so much. Your parents would be proud."

You replied with a warm smile. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were like your second parents. Being close to their kids caused it. During the holidays you and your parents would go to the Burrow to celebrate with the Weasleys. It felt like ages since the last time you spent Christmas all together. You were all very close, so it felt right to have Mr. Weasley walk you down the aisle. He was glad to do it too.

You and Arthur walked out of the doorway together and began to walk. A few yards away was Remus, tears glistening in his eyes. He looked magnificent in his suit and tie. As the distance between you was closed, your eyes never left Remus'. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. The nerves you felt before dissipated. As you got to the end of the path, Remus took your hands in his.

You both listened and got through vows and the wedding ring exchange as rehearsed.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Remus and Y/N Lupin. May now kiss the bride." The officiator steps out of the way and a camera flashes as you kiss. The small crowd of yours and Remus' friends cheered and stood as you both walked back down the rose petal covered path to the house. Looking around you saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Bill, Fleur, and Victoire in the second row. Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes as she clapped. George gave you a thumbs up, which made you laugh.

You made it through the double doors and back into the house. You cupped Remus' cheek as you kissed him again, more passionately this time. His forehead rested against yours as he whispered, "Mrs. Lupin.?"

"Mr. Lupin?"

"I love you."

"I love you too." You kissed Lupin on the cheek and then went back outside to find that your backyard had been transformed. In the center was a dance floor and off to the sides were tables so everyone could eat. Beige drapes hung on posts over the dance floor. Twinkling lights were wrapped around the trees and hung from their branches. Garlands were placed in the center of the tables along with white roses in vases.

All the Weasleys, Luna and her father, Harry, Hermione, Minerva, Hagrid, Kingsley, and Tonks were seated, awaiting you both to return.

The music started again and Remus pulled you onto the dance floor for your first dance. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around your waist. You pressed your cheek to his chest as your arms went around his neck.

You sighed, thinking about everything you went through to get to this point. Remus sensed your unease.

"What's wrong dear?"

"It's just... we've been through so much. We've lost so many people along the way."

"I know darling. There's nothing that can bring them back, but gaining you is a blessing I won't take for granted."

It was true. They had faced enough pain and loss to last lifetimes. In the past two decades Remus had lost his best friends. In the past two years Y/N lost her parents and one of her best friends. Nothing could bring them back but being together would heal so many other wounds. Together, you could mend the holes that had been left behind.

As you two swayed in time with the music and gazed into each others' eyes, anyone could see that you were looking at your universes. Because no matter what, nothing could break the bond that had flourished between you.

......

Nine months later you would welcome a new life into the world, your son, Farris Lupin, who was named after your father. You and Remus were both granted leave from teaching until the new school semester so you had plenty of uninterrupted time to spend with Farris.

One night, a few months after he was born, you went into Farris' bedroom. Sitting in a large leather chair was Remus and Farris. Farris was laying on Remus' chest, sleeping soundlessly. Remus too was asleep, the book he was reading to him lying in his lap.

Extra: (this happened at your wedding)

As the night began to wind down, you were sitting with George at a table. You both sipped out of your glasses, reminiscing on your adventures at Hogwarts.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Yeah Georgie?"

"Me and Fred had a bet."

"Oh really?" You were surprised George was freely talking about Fred. After his death, George broke down for weeks. Anything related to Fred was a sore topic for you both. You three were best friends all through school, and even past it. So close in fact, that Mrs. Weasley secretly thought you would marry one of them.

"Yeah. I just won it today." George looked down at his fire whiskey and tossed it back, downing it in one gulp.

"What... What was it about?"

"I promised Fred I wouldn't tell you." George would never break that promise, and it was possibly for the better. The bet was made in their fourth year, and would stay a secret for the rest of time.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

[growingingreenwood]

Ava and eowyn’s friendship is very important to me, the only thing holding me together tbh. Do you have any specific headcanons about how they met and became friends?

I’m not sure how many of you are aware of this aspect of my personal headcanons, but I believe that Legolas and Eowyn would have become really good friends basically from the moment what was left of the Fellowship got to Rohan. One of the main reasons I think this would happen is because Legolas is from a Kingdom that allows any member of the realm (regardless of gender) to join their military as long as they prove their skill. So when Eowyn figured out that Legolas was EQUALLY confused about her not being able to serve, even though she was more than capable of doing so, it was the literal definition of refreshing. 

When Eowyn pressed him for even the slightest details about why he agreed with her so wholeheartedly, the first two people Legolas brought up were Avaleina and Eloissa. Without revealing him as the Prince of Greenwood the Great, Legolas told her about how Eloissa had served tirelessly as the Prince’s Second In Command and nearly all patrols since he had been put in charge of his own patrols. 

Next he told her about Avaleina, who had against all odds and expectations had climbed both political and military ladders with such raw determination that she was the only other member of the Greenwood Kingdom who could travel as a dignitary with equal power to the King aside from the Prince himself. 

Legolas told her about how both Elleths parted crowds like a boulder cut through a river without even a thought or a glance. He told her about how each of them commanded the battlefield and their people with such precision and accuracy that even the darkest powers of the world had begun to fear their names. 

With every word that he spoke, Eowyn became more and more eager to know and see every inch of this wonderful world. 

On Legolas’s behalf, he had like one single interaction with Eowyn and was like: “Oh yeah, this human… this human I like. This is the one.” And Aragorn just sort of pats her on the shoulder and is like, “If any of us survive this war, you’re going to have one HELL of an adventure in store for you.” 

And Eowyns like, “What how do you know that?” 

And Aragorn says, “Just trust me on this one. No mortal can be chosen by an elf and hope to live a normal life. Just wait. You’ll see.”

Then the second interaction between Legolas and Eowyn he was like: “Yo Aragorn, wait until this war is over and I introduce her to Avaleina.” 

When it comes to the two of them actually meeting….

I think that it would have happened when Thranduil came to Gondor for Arwen and Aragorn large wedding celebration, since Avaleina would have traveled as part of the Kings Escort. Because if they had not let her do so, she would have traveled the distance by herself and showed up anyways. 

I think that Eowyn would have been drawn to Avaleina even before they were formally introduced after just one glimpse of her walking into the courtyard where Aragorn waited. She never would have seen a women at the head of ‘war party’ before, especially not one that was clearly there due to rank and ability rather than born or married power. 

I think that Ava would seek Eowyn out (probably with Aragorns help) and walked up to her and was like, “I heard that you snuck onto a battlefield in disguise as a man because the wouldn’t let you fight and ended up being the one who kill the Witch King.” 

And Eowyn's like “.....y-yes,” while trying not to stare at any of Avalein’s obvious scars even though it seems everywhere she looks there's another one even worse than the last.

And Ava’s like, “That's so great, I think that’s the coolest thing any mortal has done next to Beorn intercepting the Silmaril after it had been stolen from Doriath.” 

After the two of them are introduced to one another formally, Eowyns like "HEY WAIT A SECOND-"

Then the most BEAUTIFUL of friendships is born. 

Since Legolas spends so much time with Gimli exploring Middle Earth and just generally making the most of Gimli’s ‘limited’ mortal life, I think that Ava and Eowyn would spend a ridiculous amount of time together since both of them would live in Ilithien after Legolas and Faramir officially settled it. (Their time together definitely including their own fair bit of exploring as the pleased, occiasly joining Gimli and Legolas and their adventures or purposeful planning to meet up with them part way through.) 

I think that they would each teach eachother one major thing through their friendship: 

Eowyn taught Avaleina the power of letting go of past situations and their associated emotions that you really truly could not have done any different or better no matter how much you wish you could have. 

Avaleina taught Eowyn that you can be both powerful and feminie, that the two things can co-exist within the same person without contradicting one another. 

Similarly to how Legolas refuses to leave Middle Earth until Aragorn has passed to the halls, Avaleina won’t leave until long after Eowyn has joined her ancestors beneath the grass and flower covered tombs. 

[accioecho]

Tkem novel 17

Chapter 3 (Volume II) - The turmoil that finally broke out

It didn’t take him long to find the file he was looking for. It was a video simply named “Guest”. He double clicked on it and the security footage instantly played out in front of him. Gon’s lips instinctively stretched into a smile.

On the blurred images captured by the surveillance cameras, he could see Tae-Eul wandering in the streets of Busan, eyes shining full of wonder and curiosity.

He saw her take a seat inside one of the city trams, her elbow propped against the window, hand on her chin. She was looking out, staring at the moving scenery, her wavy strands of hair and content smile caressed by the Kingdom’s warm winter lights.

Mirroring her posture, Gon leaned his head on his hand, eyes focusing on Tae-Eul, unable to tear his gaze away from the screen. It felt like she was still here, still in his world.

“I’m seeing something beautiful again.” It was a vow of reverence, a whisper of admiration.

The next video took place in Gyeongbokgung. It looked like Tae-Eul had traveled all the way to Seoul and was visiting the royal Palace. She was mingling among the crowds of tourists, wearing one of those rental traditional dresses, laughing, enjoying the visit.

The next footage showed Tae-Eul wearing the Queen’s formal robes.

“Ah.” Gon’s jaw went slack, mind completely dazed.

Seeing Tae-Eul in a formal royal dress… this was something he had never imagined before. She had simply said “not today” when asked about being his Queen… Yet the elegant garment embroidered with gold and red threads suited her perfectly.

Tae-Eul kept fidgeting, clearly feeling awkward at wearing such a grand item of clothing for the first time. She kept rolling up her sleeves and turning around. An employee approached her with a Polaroid camera to take a souvenir picture. Tae-Eul faced the lens and flashed a bright, charming smile.

This moment. Right there staring at his girl, his beautiful Tae-Eul, made him happy and sad at the same time.

—

With the cold, winter days fast approaching, Tae-Eul brought the flower pot containing the seeds from the Kingdom indoors. She thought back longingly on the conversation they had that day.

No matter how well she tended to her little plant, the seeds stubbornly refused to sprout. Noticing Tae-Eul’s upset expression, Gon jokingly commanded the flowers to bloom. As items originating from the Kingdom, they had to listen to their King. They had to grow well. They had to sprout and turn into full, vibrant blossoms here, in the garden of the woman he liked. It was a royal order.

Tae-Eul let out a small giggle, though her curiosity was piqued.

“The seeds I scattered in that strange place. Did they not sprout, by any chance?” She asked.

“I told you. There’s no wind, sunlight or time there.” Gon explained.

“I was just asking. Did you try going to the edge?”

“I tried to, but I couldn’t reach the edge. I can’t stay there long. If I spend one day in there, two months flow by outside.”

“Then it means that you don’t grow old when you’re in that place?”

“Even if I have eternal life in there, I will still come back to you. If I’m late, it’s because I’m on my way.”

“Don’t think about coming to me, think about us going together. Don’t go somewhere nice without me.”

Gon gave a mirthless laugh, his heart constricting in a painful squeeze.

“I think I’m going to miss you so much. Can’t you come with me? Can’t you live with me in my world?” He already knew the answer but he asked anyway.

“I’m adding one more entry to the list of 17 things. Don’t ask me to come with you. What about this world? What about my Dad, Nari and the station? Saying that just puts me in a tight spot.”

Gon wasn’t the only one hurting. Tae-Eul felt a tightness in her chest, her almond eyes cast down, voice wavering in a sea of melancholic emotions. Her anguish only cut him deeper.

No words could make up for expressing how sorry he was. Gon chose to kiss her instead, pressing his lips against hers in a a sweet, short interlude.

“What was that? Did you stop me from talking?”

“No, I stopped myself. This is what we do when we have too many things to say. That’s the law in the Kingdom of Corea—”

This time, Tae-Eul stepped on her tip toes, reaching up, clasping him closer, mouth finding his.

“I have to follow the law. I’m a civil servant, you know.” She cheekily interjected.

They grinned and stared at each other, lost in their own eternity. Feeling immense love, yet overwhelmed by a constant heartache. Because they couldn’t fulfill the other’s wishes and desires.

—

Would this day ever come? Would he see this picture turn into reality one day? Gon found it hard to look away from the frozen image of Tae-Eul in the Queen’s dress, a beaming smile on her face.

“… I hope you’ll say yes.”

His wish remained unheard, fading away in the empty room. With a heavy heart, Gon resumed the video.

Tae-Eul filled the day wandering around, roaming the streets of the Kingdom. Gon let out a light chuckle at seeing her walking so diligently.

The following shot showed a boy standing in front of a back alley bookstore, playing with a yo-yo. Several colorful plants adorned the storefront. Just as Tae-Eul passed by him, the young boy looked up and peered directly at the surveillance camera.

Gon felt a chill down his spine. The young boy’s gaze was directed straight at Gon, as if he was  seeing him. Gon stared back at the screen just as intently. It really felt like they were facing each other.

After a short while, the boy turned his gaze away from the CCTV and bowed his head down to slide his yo-yo. Far above him, dark clouds formed in the sky.

Right then, a lightning struck with a loud and brilliant blast. It was so strong it rattled the windowpanes. A the same time, a searing pain pierced his shoulder, so acute he felt like he was being marked by a branding iron.

Groaning, he grabbed his shoulder. Holding back his pain, he played back the tape.

“What? Did I see it wrong?”

There were no images of the boy looking up. The footage only showed him peacefully playing with his toy. Even more strange, Tae-Eul’s clothes didn’t match the ones she was wearing that day. Leaning closer to the screen,  Gon squinted his eyes to read the bookstore’s name. Haesong Bookstore. And the footage was taken on…

May 27th, 2022.

“2022..?”

It couldn’t be. Gon checked the date again. Surely it was an error. He checked the frame one more time. But the date shown on the screen was correct.

“What is this?”

Confused all over again, Gon absentmindedly played back the future that was captured in that video file, over and over again.