#please continue to be calm and reasonable around me ill go off the rails

[validatemylife]

Thank you tumblr for letting me know I’m not alone about Kim Kintsuragi and his reassuring voice and the quiet, stoic way he responds to whatever the fuck he just walked into

I have never heard or seen anything about DE except “Skill Check (Outcome):” and that it was good. I’m only on day 2 but I feel like I’ll die in real life if I disappoint him

[ragingbookdragon]

Under Enemy Fire

A Shay Cormac x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2,435 Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Violence and Death

Author’s Note: I love making badass female readers. It’s so much fun. Enjoy! -Thorne

“I do apologize that you have to bring me along today Master Kenway. I know there are many things you would rather be doing than having to look after me.” The man gave her a small smile, gently patting her hand where it rested on his arm.

           “We’ve known each other for some time now, you may call me Haytham, Lady (Y/N). And it’s no trouble. Besides, your father has wished me to introduce you to our newest member.” She couldn’t help the grimace that came across her features, but she was quick to cover it with,

           “Of course he has…might I ask for some knowledge of this possible suitor?” Haytham chuckled, halting their movement as a carriage passed in front of them.

           “You may…but I would rather talk about how you won’t stop your father from trying to marry you off.” (Y/N) hummed, eyes shifting to the road as they started walking again.

           “Master Haytham, you know as well as I that I have no say in this.” He narrowed his gaze, taking a quick glance at her.

           “And yet you still persist in rejecting every match he finds.” She bit her lip, unsure of how to respond, when he added, “Here we are.” (Y/N) looked up at the building in front of her, eyes widening at the size.

           “My…this is a rather sizable mansion.” Haytham nodded.

           “Fort Arsenal. It’s owned by the man you’ll meet shortly.” She craned her neck, looking around for him.

           “Is he meeting us here?” He tipped his head to the docks and she turned her eyes to it, seeing the ship docked. “Oh, we are sailing.” (Y/N) frowned and looked down at her dress. “I should have worn something more suitable for sailing.” Haytham chuckled, escorting her towards the docks.

           “Have no fear Lady (Y/N), it’s just a sail around New York.” She hummed, and as they arrived, a man stepped down the walkway, addressing Haytham.

           “Master Haytham, you’re here a bit earlier than I expected.” The two shook hands, and Haytham said,

           “Ah, Lady (Y/N) was ready when I arrived, so I suggested we go ahead and make our way.” At that, the man turned his eyes to her, and under his gaze, she felt warmth creep up her neck.

           “I was wondering who this lovely lass was you were escorting.” He held his hand out, smiling, “Shay Cormac, at your service.” (Y/N) placed her hand in his, watching as he pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles.

           “(Y/N) (L/N). Thank you for allowing me to join you and Master Haytham today.” Feeling the embarrassment rising across her skin, she looked away, focusing on the ship. “I must say, your ship is a fine one. What is her name?” Shay grinned, turning to look at the brigantine.

           “The Morrigan.” (Y/N) nodded, inquiring,

           “I do hope it is not too presumptuous of me to assume she is named after the goddess Morrigan from Irish mythology?” He turned back around, an impressed look etched onto his face as he remarked,

           “Not at all. You know your mythology.” (Y/N) offered him a polite smile as he gestured for them to board.

           “Thank you. I enjoy reading about mythologies from other cultures. Though…many people today are not as interested in it as I am.” She gently squeezed Haytham’s bicep, quipping, “That being said, Master Haytham has indulged my ramblings from time to time.” Looking at Shay, she said, “It is a surprise that he has not yet keeled over from boredom.” The two men snorted at her words, making her smile, and they stood at the quarterdeck, Shay giving commands to the crew to pull out. (Y/N) shifted, pulling her hands away to rest them on the railings, watching the waves lap at the sides of the ship.

An Hour Later:

           “Well, try to understand, Medusa in Greek means ‘guardian’ or ‘protectress’, and even though Athena knew that Medusa was not at fault for what happened to her, Athena was bound by her duty to ‘punish’ Medusa for ‘defiling’ her temple. In order to make a ‘proper punishment’, she turned her into a gorgon. Many think it was a punishment, but if you think about it, she was giving Medusa a way to protect herself and other women so that it would not happen again.” (Y/N) gestured in front of her, finalizing, “Medusa was not turned into a gorgon as a punishment.” The two men stood in complete silence, pondering her words, then Shay acknowledged,

           “I’ve never thought of it that way.” She nodded and he asked, “How do you think Athena came up with that idea?” (Y/N) tipped her head to the side, thinking for a moment, then offered,

           “Well, she is the goddess of wisdom. She had to come up with something that could certainly pass as a punishment, but underneath, be a protection for Medusa and her sisters.” She looked over at Haytham, who pulled a satisfied look and nodded.

           “That does sound clever enough to pass in the eyes of the other Olympian gods.” She tipped her head in acknowledgement, falling silent between the two men until Shay asked,

           “Lady (Y/N)? You are aware of the order in which we belong to, yes?” She nodded.

           “Absolutely. The men in my family have been apart of the Templars for some few centuries.”

           “Are your brothers apart of them as well?” (Y/N) lowered her gaze to her hands, murmuring,

           “I am afraid I am an only child…my siblings passed from illness when we were younger.” Shay’s face dropped and he lamented,

           “I apologize, I didn’t mean to bring up such grief.” A heartfelt smile crossed her lips and she reassured,

           “Their deaths were heavy on my heart when I was a child, but the burdens have since eased, so please, do not apologize. You could not have known.” He matched her smile, changing the subject with,

           “What does your father do?” (Y/N) shifted her weight between her feet, replying,

           “My father is a master blacksmith. Our occupation has spanned several generations, and we have built our wealth and business worldwide.”

           “That’s mighty impressive.” She hummed in appreciation.

           “Thank you.”

           “Is he a swordsman as well?”

           “If you are asking if he can wield the blades he makes, yes, he can.” He cocked an eyebrow, asking,

           “Can you?” (Y/N) hesitated in her answer, then remarked,

           “No, I am afraid not.” He regarded her a moment, leaning between asking her if she was lying or not, instead, he opted for,

           “So why are you traveling with Master Haytham today?” At that, she turned her gaze to Haytham, who’d suddenly found the sails more interesting than her glare, and she hissed,

           “You mean to tell me that you brought me here under the assumption that Master Shay was a possible suitor and he does not even know it?” His mouth opened and closed as he looked at her, then he answered,

           “I mean, he does now.” (Y/N)’s face pinched and she sighed,

           “Master Haytham, this is quite improper. Both parties are supposed to be aware of the circumstances in which they are meeting under.”

           “I’m still here…I just thought I should clarify that.” She turned back to Shay, embarrassment coloring her tone as she said,

           “I am so sorry Master Shay. I had no idea that you were unaware of my reasons for being here.” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he turned the wheel.

           “There’s no trouble Lady (Y/N). I’m honored that your father thought me well enough to be a suitor for his lovely daughter.” She felt her face flush with heat, and she looked to the open water, ignoring their gazes. “If it��s not too rude, you don’t seem too fond of trying to marry.” (Y/N) sighed, countering calmly,

           “It is not that I am opposed to marriage. It is just-” He cut her off, inquiring,

           “You just haven’t met the right man yet?” She nodded, but clarified,

           “Many of the men my father has introduced me to have been more than suitable…just…not for me.”

           “Why do you say that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

           “Most men expect their wives to be obedient and ever-faithful servants…I believe that if I am not being listened to, I am not being respected. Marriage is a partnership, not one placed high above the other.” Haytham took a moment to cut in,

           “Many think that’s a rather incendiary thinking process for women to have.” (Y/N) giggled, catching his eye.

           “I do think it is why I have rejected most of the suitors I have had. I think-” Before she could continue, an ear-splitting explosion rocked the air, and a moment later, the side of the ship was hit with cannon fire. Caught off guard, most of the crew hit the ground, along with (Y/N) and the two templars beside her. Shay and the others were quick to rise to their feet, Haytham helping her stand.

           “To your battle stations men!” Shay twisted the wheel, and with a sharp twist, (Y/N) fell back into Haytham’s chest with a sharp intake of breath; he turned to them, yelling, “Get her to the captain’s cabin! Now!” Haytham nodded, taking her by the arms to lead her down the stairs. Panic surged through her as Shay shouted, “Brace for impact!” Immediately, Haytham tugged her to the ground, shielding her body with his as cannonballs tore into the hull. He pulled her to the doors, shoving them open to lead her inside. (Y/N) spun around, eyes wide with fear and he pointed at her, commanding,

           “Do not leave this room until either Shay or myself comes to get you, do you understand?” She nodded and he turned, slamming the door after he left. (Y/N) backed into the room, gasping as she bumped the table behind her. The ship shook as it returned fire and she crouched to the floor, hiding under the table, heart racing every time shots were fired and returned. For a moment, the battle calmed, then an even bigger blast sent her to the floor, head slamming into the stand that held the model ship on it. (Y/N) reached up and hissed as the pain bled through her head, and faintly, she heard,

           “We’re being boarded! Prepare for personal combat!” This time, the fear that came over her was nerve-racking and she crawled along the floor to the desk, hiding behind it. She could hear the gunshots and clashing of steel from inside, and she shut her eyes, burying her face the fabric of her dress. For a moment, the world faded, and she thought back on a memory from her childhood.

           “Papa, why do we always train?” The older man looked down at the young girl, barely older than seven, the wooden training sword clutched tight in her hand.

           “Because little lioness, one day you might have to pick up the sword to defend yourself and the people you care for. In order to do that, you have to know how to fight.” She cocked her head to the side, looking back at the wrapped grip.

           “But women do not fight? We are supposed to stay home?” The man crouched in front of her, pointing a finger to her heart as he said,

           “Your job as a (L/N) is not to adhere to societies rules on women. You will be a path maker in your life (Y/N). Forging new ways for women to live.”

           “So, I do not have to be a wife?”

           “You can be anything you wish to be.” She went silent a moment, then took a step backwards, getting into a defensive position.

           “Then I want to be fighter.” The man chuckled, matching her stance as he commended,

           “Then you will be the mighty lioness of the (L/N) family.”

           Her eyes snapped open and she looked up from her dress, seeing the weapon rack in the corner of the room. Something burned brightly in her chest and she rose from the floor, hands stripping herself of the heavy layered dress and undergarments she wore. (Y/N) pulled on the leather pants and tunic, adjusting them until they fit her well enough so she could move without hindrance. She strapped the holsters to her, tucking the powdered flintlocks in them before she yanked the saber from the rack, turning to the door. As she made her way to it, the doors flew open and she was greeted with a French officer who’s smile instantly fell when he caught sight of the lioness armed to the teeth.

           Shay let out a curse as he caught a glance of an officer heading to the cabin. “Haytham! One of them is going to the cabin!” The grandmaster cursed, and before either of them could move, a shot tore from below and the French officer stumbled out backwards, hands clutching his gut. Their eyes went wide when she flew out, saber sinking into his chest. With a mighty yell, she yanked the sword back, shoving him away. He hit the ground, and for a moment, the fighting seemed to stop as all the fighters gaped at the woman. She didn’t waste a second, pulling the dirk from its scabbard. She flipped it in her grip and threw it as hard as she could, watching as it sunk deep into the throat of a man wielding an axe; with a strangled gasp, he hit the ground, and she raised the saber, shouting defiantly,

           “Fight me you bastards!” The enemy combatants seemed to take her challenge, a group rushing her all at once. Shay and Haytham started towards her, but (Y/N) didn’t need any help. She twisted and swung, dodging each strike as she returned ones of her own, and before anyone knew it, the group fell before her. The two templars joined the fray beside her, and in mere moments, the enemy began dropping their swords in a surrender. Her chest rose and fell fiercely with each intake of breath and she stood before Shay and Haytham as she sheathed the sword; Shay stared at her with wide eyes, sputtering,

           “I thought you said you couldn’t fight?” Her answer was cut off as a cry sounded from beside them and they turned, seeing the French captain coming their way with his saber ready. As the two men reached for their swords, she pulled the second pistol from the holster and took aim, firing a single shot. The captain staggered as the bullet sunk into his skull and he dropped to his knees, collapsing onto the deck. (Y/N) stood there, gun still smoking and countered firmly,

           “I lied.”

[moonlightjeno]

swashbuckle and islands

a/n : this boy will be the death of me i love him so much. excuse my horrible grammar. my fav gif, and has nothing to do with the story lol but enjoyyy

genre : angst + fluff

pairing : readerxjeno & readerxmark

word count : 2.6k

okay,

okie, be ready for this mess

and excuse any non spaced words my space bar isn’t working properly

cool so your from an island

which imma call Skye bc i can

now your mum is originally from Skye, and had like second cousins of a cousin or whatever to throne but she married you father who was from the mainland 

which is a big no no but at the time she didn’t care bc she was so in love

skip forward a couple of years and the father is a complete ass

doesn’t work or really do much except order your mum around

anyone who has a wonderful father or really good parents im sorry don’t attack me this is for the story

:)

so, mum has had you and your older brother, whom your brother continues to admire your father bc he really just wants love and is hella lost in this mess of a world

Moving on

you used to have a really good relationship with your father until he changed.

cheated on your mother, and would blame it on you mum

in response you really just tried to help you mum get through this mess

big big mess

your brother, at the beginning helped and tried to calm your father  

boy kinda gave up, hela understandable

and left to the mainland to study medicine

wooot go him

but you were devastated because you were now alone 

now bc your brother has left your father has really worsened and blocks your freedom more and more

The point where you were literally only allowed to like go to school, work in the fields and be a servant

sksksk 

now remember how your mum was like the second cousin or smth to the royal crown?

Twas was importanttt

that managed to get you a study abroad year in london, 

queue your best friend mark entering

this boy showed you what freedom was and felt like for the first time since your father went off rails

iss been like a good 13 years and you're like 16 ??

I digress

mark literally made you feel more yourself because of his natural outgoing and easy behavior

It really was pretty amazing

And then the hiding and going out late at night was over

It was back to no friends, working at the field

sad life tbh

I must note, that because mark lived in canada bc why tf not 

y’all couldn’t really communicate

this is set when pirates where a thing, think of pirates of the caribbean 

I love those movies 

okie, progress two years 

of you thanks to you mum’s second cousin related human lol

you became friends with the cousins friends daughter 

y’all really had known each other since they were smol 

but hadn’t really been friends, bc the girl was pretty quite and a beaut

even her own father treated her better than she treated her own daughter

smh, ik this is a cliche live with it

but overall she was a really good person and kinda managed to sneak you around the island when you weren't on “duty” for your father

though its not that you didn’t like working in the fields bc you loved helping out with the animals and occasionally give food to those who were less fortunate than you and really couldn’t afford it

being a trooper, that you are you often told your friend idk wanna give her a name so y’all could come up with one if it were up to me it would be lilith about what you would see around the island and how the country was pretty not doing a okay

she would listen and talk about her own problems and how she wished she could travel and paint everything 

Bonding over traveling yep yeo

one day, you were supposed to work in the fields as you tend to have to do to the cows, and sheep and horses, while picking up the apples? from the trees ??

Idk i don’t farm

either wayyyy

you had finished your tasks early, and had struggled, and i mean stRuGgLed to get away from your father

he was in one of his moods today, shouting at everyone and refusing to admit he needed help

it was a constant reminder of every bad thing every failure that could happen in your life every thing you didn’t want for yourself or your mum who had slowly been getting sick and y’all had some money that could have helped her but your father thought that she deserved the illness

and i quote he said “everything happens for a reason child, if your mother had treated me and had been a good person this wouldn’t have happened to her, but alas some people deserve what they get”

skskskks 

he continued to say how “i on the other hand, have been a good man all my life, have always helped others so i don’t get sick”

this man i swear to god this has actually happened help

being very much done with your father who you really wished would just disappear and leave you and your mom who no longer lived with you but now lived with lilith to be

you had thought of running away for a very long time, though never knew how to get off the island it seemed impossible

sure you knew how to fight, somewhat by watching the guards and the little training mark you had taught your two years ago. 

missing mark hours but it wouldn’t compare to the guards of the royals who would never aid you

and even if they had, you had never learned how to sail which was ironic as the island you lived in wasn’t very large. Your only method of transportation has been your legs and your families faithful horse lethian ?? who really was your favorite out of all the animals 

running away from the trapped life had always felt like a dream, one that you had lived for for the small year in london with mark

you thought about running away again, the idea of sneaking into a trading boat slowly forming in your mind

you could take her your mum and lilith and travel the world go to london again and paris and canada and re-unite with the friend you missed the most

a smile had formed on your previous grim face, the dream something you held onto until your eyes opened and smoke covered the sky

a ringing began in your ears and you tried to stop it, your hands covering your ears in an attempt to stop the noise but the ringing only got stronger

the sky was black, shots were heard were the village people yelled in panic

you looked out towards the sea and could see the outline of a ship

a very large ship

oh shit 

a pirate ship

the flag blew proudly in the boat and from where you stood the bone white skull that contrasted against the black around it was made visible everytime the wind blew 

you gasped, everything anyone had told you about pirates were that they weren’t to be trusted

they were ruthless and would do nothing to stop from getting what they wanted

the stories you'd heard all came to the same conclusion you see the flag you run in the other direction

you pace quickened and in small time you were running towards the blazing village now up in smokes fire and fog covering the bakery, and fields

the school that had taught you the basics of reading and writing until girls weren’t allowed to attend was a blaze royal guards their black and purple uniforms waved their hands around and pointed their too heavy too unbalanced swords not being of much use

mom 

she should be safe

safe with lilith you thought, looking back towards were the small castle stood its bold flag still flying proudly in the grey and black sky

safe , shes safe you keep telling yourself a constant buzz that you repeated over and over to yourself in order to continue moving towards the castle walls

you only lasted a solid five minutes before the guards were holding the civilians back

you sighed angry these idiots being more preoccupied with holding back the citizens who were trying to get to safety behind the castle walls than actually dealing with the threat at hand

who hired them really??

being the stubborn human you are you decided to head towards the back entrance as yuo saw a flash of blonde hair headin towards the back gate of the castle 

oh no was your immediate thought their gonna get to lilith and mum

all the guards had been directed out of castle except a few that had stayed inside to keep the royal fam safe the infirmary had been left unguarded

you looked around trying to look for a familiar face, a familiar guard who youd seen at a practice lilith had dragged you too she had said it was too “admire suitors” you had shaken your head and laughed 

you had no interest in tying yourself to a man that would treat you like something to throw around but you let her revel in her fantasies 

no familiar face was found so you turned and ran towards the blonde head you had seen walk towards the back entrance grabbing a sword from one of the dead guards 

your cursed the clothes women were given making it impossible to run in impossible to fight in 

the blonde boy turned around at your approach, he was young you noticed

probably your age, his grin was deviant and his eyes were mocking as she approached 

“please” you tried “don’t hurt hurt anyone else” 

the boy looked at you with a puzzled look at laughed, slashing away at the thorns and vines that encircled the back door to the castle as he found the lock and tried to break it open

you got closer, looking at the broken glass bottles that littered the floor and torches that lit up the fogged street 

the boy was too busy with the look to realize the girl that had come behind him and hit him in the back of the head with the swords dull pommel the boy let put a yelp before collapsing at your feet

your small victory lasted a small time and before you noticed the boy you had tied with the thorns and vines from the door, which continued to be locked 

your mum and lilith as far as you knew safe

began to stir and as his eyes opened another boy appeared at the end of the alley

his hair seemed to be part of the night sky, falling over his dark eyes. 

“mark!” the black haired boy cried, his hand at his scimitar pointed directed towards you his other hand had managed to slip a dagger out of god knows where and sliced mark’s binds

mark the name sent a shock through you and you took a closer look at the young boy whose eyes were now wide open no anger shown

 but instead amusement and the joyous spark you had once known

he looked so different 

the black haired boy still had a sword at your throat and you swallowed briefly 

“mark?” you gasped feeling the tip of the sword against your neck a small movement and it would nick your skin, blood would swell

‘Mark’ looked at you again and laughed, 

the black haired boy looked confused “let her go jeno” 

jeno was like ‘excuse me ? she knocked you unconscious no i'm not doing that’ he didn't say it but mark understood and laughed again this time it was more mischievous a feral grin adorned his features

“let her go, she’s coming with us” jeno and you were both like huh? has this boy gone mad?

probably letss be realll

“umm no im not” you snapped at the boy you once knew, you glared at jeno who had regrettably removed his sword away from your neck but had placed the dagger threateningly close to your back ashe forced you to move along

you didn’t get an answer from mark who still seemed very entertained by the whole situation

he had changed so much since you’d last seen him *sigh*

you three walked back towards the village and you hadn’t realized how the screams of pain and fear were no longer heard

more than a few guards littered the floors and you tried not to gasp as jeno forcefully continued to move you towards the sea its waters black 

the walk to the pirate boat seemed to last ages, the sun had begun to set in the sky casting dark purple and red shadows above the black water that didn’t reflect any light. It broke your heart to see the usually clear water be black, the animals that lived in the waters probably struggling to survive.

when you finally arrived, the panic began to settle in again. you didn’t know if your mum and lilith were safe, you didn’t know what would happen and the boy you knew two years ago had changed so much that you could no longer read what he was thinking 

the ship loomed in front of you, you hear the small buzz of chatter from the ship and laughter

why was there laughter in such a horrible place ??

“Come on” mark said, already walking getting onto the ship, not looking back at the mess they had left behind

You no longer felt the sharp prick of a dagger or sword at your back, but instead it had been replaced by a strong hand guiding you towards the ship

the contact startled you, and you straightened and continued to walk forward the ship only a few feet away, you still held onto the rock that you had hit mark with, your sword taken away by jeno

you forced your feet to stop moving, because one more step and you’d be on the pirate’s boat, and ducked, and made a weak attempt at attacking the black haired boy behind you hitting him with the small rock you had on the leg

you begin to move away from the boat. The victory lasted a solid second before jeno had his arms around you, pinning your hands behind your back. No longer smiling, or understanding in his dark eyes. you glared at him and then at mark who had finally turned around, a sort of sadness passed over his features before he spoke

“you can’t run away y/n” he said calmly. “remember in london? when you dream about running away, leaving this island and  exploring the world? away from your father?”

his words shocked you, but you didn’t want to leave your mum she had no one else 

“i can’t just leave mark !! my mum, she’s still there and i can’t just leave her with father” a look of recognition and understanding flitted through jeno’s face and reflected in mark

“i know, i know but if you stay here and go back” the boy shook his head, the dark of the night making his blonde hair a dull light in the fog, 

you knew, that in many ways he was right. if you did go back the villagers had seen you with the pirates, being taken by them as the village had burned down and you weren't scared. the worst scenario would be that if you did go back they would imprison you, ask you for information 

hurt mum, hurt lilith even is she was part of the royals

you felt the tears well up in your eyes, and refused to let them fall

“we aren’t all that bad” peeped jeno’s voice who had softened again, until you looked at him and his gaze hardened

you forced yourself a small smile, and placed your foot on the board of the boat 

“Let’s go swashbucklers” you said, 

after all, the stories you’d heard had come from your father, and all his stories were a lie.

a/n : i hope y’all enjoyed that. ik there wasn't much jeno lol but i’m planning on king this a series if you want? send me an ask, if you do! either way, 

peace out luvs,

stay safe

[illstaywithstray]

Reaction to you being sick/ hospitalized while they are on tour

Maknae Line

Note: (WARNING: MENTIONS OF ACCIDENTS AND HOSPITALS) 

Aw thank you sm! I think it’s kinda on my part too since I don’t have a steady posting schedule yet, so I can’t expect people to like and comment haha. I want to try posting regularly after finals week! I’ll post the Hyung Line here.

Hyunjin:

Chan stopped the music, trying to catch his second wind, “I think we got this part down for the concert tomorrow, yeah?” The chorus of agreement that followed marked the end of practice. Hyunjin wiped his forehead, checking his texts from the past hour. As he scrolled through your recent messages, he noted your unusually short texts. “What’s wrong?” He glanced over at Seungmin, who had just finished showering and was now the only one other than him still in the locker room. “Not sure, y/n’s being dry.” “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about that, the doctor just told her to stay off her phone for a while.” “Doctor? Why?” Seungmin glanced over his shoulder to check if Hyunjin was joking. “Hyun, she’s in the hospital right now. Because of the car crash?” 

Hyunjin finished packing a few basic things while dialing your number. You answered, hungry and confused. “Hello? Hyun?” “Y/n, what the hell?” “What’s wrong?” You sat up straight in the hospital bed, clutching your phone for dear life. “Seungmin told me you got into a car crash? Why didn’t you call me right away? Fuck, I’m getting a plane right now. I can’t believe you didn’t-,” you cut him off, laughing lightly. “Hyun, I just broke my leg, I’m not dying.” You heard him exhale quietly as silence fell over the line. He muttered that you would die one of these days and then sighed louder. “Okay but still, do you need me to come over there?” “No loser, I’m completely fine. I just didn’t say anything because you have that concert tomorrow.” “So? You’re more important.” You sat in stunned silence, feeling your face heat up. “I can literally feel and HEAR you blushing, but for real, FaceTime me tonight and prove you aren’t dying.” “Deal.” 

Jisung:

Jisung was sitting outside, staring up at the stars, praying and wishing with his last strands of desperation. His eyes kept darting to his phone screen, waiting for a text, a call, or any sign that you were awake. 

Three hours ago, Felix and Woojin had burst in the dorm, screaming bloody murder. Woojin had an unnerved expression as Felix shoved his phone into Jisung’s hands, motioning Woojin out of the room. Sung skimmed a cluster of texts from your friend Jisoo. She had texted Felix about the situation as soon as she had reached the hospital and seen you. The doctor that was tending to you explained that there had been some sort of an accident at your dorm, which had resulted in you falling off a flight of stairs. No one knew the exact events that led to the emergency, or how you managed to get over the railing, but you ended up being severely concussed and were immediately taken to a hospital. Jisung’s heart fell as he read the texts and he scrambled to call Jisoo and everyone he knew back home. The calls continuously forwarded to automated messages, and he sat, defeated, waiting for a reply. A couple hours later, his phone rang, with Jisoo’s contact flashing on the screen. He answered it, practically screaming into the phone. “Jisoo, what the hell happened? Is y/n okay? What’d the doctor’s say? Is she gonna be fine?” He heard silence on the other end of the line, and then your tired voice. “Glad to hear you too babe.” He felt a rush of relief pass over him, “y/n? Are you okay? Actually no, are you gonna be okay? Do you want me to come home?” “Sung, I’m fine, the doctor’s say I just need to rest and take it easy for a while. Don’t worry.” “How can I not worry when the love of my life almost died?” “And you say I’m dramatic. I was just fooling around with Lisa and I said I could do a handstand on the railing, but I think I stand corrected.” “You-,” he fell silent, feeling overwhelmingly relieved but irritated that you were a dumb bitch. “You’re really something else y/n. I’m bubble wrapping you when I get home.” “Ugh, I deserve that. Babyproof the hell out of me please.” “Deal.”

Felix:

Changbin sat next to Felix, one arm slung over his shoulder. The rest of the guys watched him wither as Changbin told him what had happened to you. You had been on a crosswalk when a drunk driver had slammed into you. You hadn’t been seriously injured, but you had a slight concussion and your wrist was shattered. He FaceTimed you, needing to see your face. When you didn’t pick up, he texted, dm’d, snapped and called you. And then he texted the majority of your friends. Chan said that you probably weren’t on your phone because of the concussion, so he sat back down, thinking of some way to reach you. Then his phone lit up with a few notifications. He saw your messages on Instagram, Snapchat, iMessage, and a missed call. He stared at the screen in confusion. How the hell did you manage to do all this in the minute he had been away? He opened your snap to see you with bandages wrapped around your head and a caption “I lived bitch.” His phone vibrated again with the notification of a FaceTime call. As soon as he picked up he saw you sticking up a middle finger with the highest look on your face. “Hey Fel, how’s it goingg?” You slurred your words, clearly on some sort of pain medication. “Y/n, do you want me to die of a heart attack? Why were you crossing the road, do you want to die?” “I’m a baD BITCH YOU CAN’T KILL ME.” “ Are you a chicken? I don’t think so. Next time use a car.” “heheh. I’m not the chicken, you are. Yongbok. Bok bok.” He stared at you with both intense hatred and love in his eyes. You snorted, screaming “I love you but ima sleep” and then hanging up. He rubbed his temple, wondering how one person could stress him out so much. He went back and read your message: “come bck after tour or ill hit u with me car next tyme.” He chuckled, typing in his response, “Deal.”

Seungmin:

Seungmin was calm, almost to the point where it became slightly unnerving. His fingers swiftly maneuvered the keyboard as he searched for flights back home. Minho watched him from afar, scared of the monster that he had unwittingly created.

An hour before Seungmin’s strange breakdown, you had texted Minho to tell Seungmin that you had been hospitalized because of your broken legs. Not a singular leg, both legs. The reason why was complicated and too difficult to discuss over the phone. At least that’s what you explained to Minho. He bluntly explained what you had asked him to say vaguely to Seungmin, who had seemed to break. He stared at a blank wall for thirty minutes before quickly packing and looking for flight tickets.

Minho watched Seungmin bang the keyboard angrily. There were no available flights that would arrive in less than thirty minutes. “Are we living in a socialist society? Can’t a guy get a flight?” Minho decided enough was enough and called you, throwing his phone to Seungmin and running away. “Seung? Hey.” “So I heard you broke your legs.” You sighed, waiting for his lecture. “Seung, I’m sorry, we were testing co2 cars and I wanted to ride on them-” “Are you okay?” “What?” “Are you okay? Do your legs hurt? Do you want me to do something?” You blushed, taken aback by the lack of him yelling at you to be more careful. “I’m fine, they have me on pain meds.” “Ugh, I wish I could be there for you. I literally packed all my things.” “You’re honestly the best boyfriend I could ask for.” “I try.” “Come home soon. After the tour.” “Deal.”

Jeongin:

Jeongin doubled over when Changbin told him that you had fainted and been taken to the hospital. He was unable to breathe, his chest tight and vision blurred as he shakily pressed your contact in his phone. “Hello?”

You woke up to Jennie shaking your shoulder. “BITCH ARE YOU DEAD? WAKE UP OR I’LL KILL YOU RIGHT HERE RIGHT NO-” “I hate you.” She sighed heavily, holding out your phone. “Who’s this?” You heard heavy sobbing coming from the other side, and you instantly heard Jeongin’s distinctive heaving. “Jeongie? What’s wrong?” He began blubbering and you tried to sort out the crying from his actual words. “Babe, you gotta articulate. I can’t hear you.” “What happened? Are you okay y/n? Is it serious?” You felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. “Aw, Jeong I just fainted. It was the heat. I’m fine now. They just told me to stay indoors.” “I wish I was with you.” His pout was practically visible through the phone. “Come home soon, with icepacks.” “I’ll end global warming if it means you won’t have to go to the hospital.” “Do it for me then.” “Deal.”

[fallingin-like]

november 21

push to talk by @alexjosten​ [requested by @nikothespoonklepto]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this is a delightfully engaging fic based on the game firewatch that follows neil as he spends a summer as a fire lookout, isolated except for radio communication with andrew, a fire lookout in the adjacent sector of the park. this is such an intense, fun, beautiful, and humorous fic.

i remember enjoying this so much as it came out, eagerly awaiting each new chapter. you drew me in so easily and deeply that i watched a whole playthrough of this game. i can fully appreciate how well you were able to translate the plot, gameplay, interactions between characters, and the stunning visuals so so seamlessly and have it aftg so well.

some parts that stood out to me:

”dusk settles on the trees like clay powder, dusting the evergreens with a red tint” woah this is such a gorgeous way of starting off this fic.

”the moon extends her helping hand to guide him out into a clearing. here, neil can see. but also, he can be seen” i love these descriptions, and our introduction to neil. 

”he ignores his sleeping bag and the strict instructions to camp at nightfall and continue during the day” ah yes, Neil I Do What I Want Josten strikes again, with little regard for what people tell him to do

”if he’s not careful, the black dirt beneath his feet could bleed crimson. the exact combination of colours he came out here to avoid” this is stunning. i am immediately drawn into this fic, wanting to know what or who exactly neil is running from, and where he’s going

”buttermilk rays whisk the shadows of leaves into a dance on the forest floor beneath his feet” !! buttermilk?? somehow that works so so well

”the irony of calling it that in his head isn’t lost on him, and he vows to avoid that comparison again” what a subtle detail, but so telling! i am pretty bad with reading tags a lot of the time, so this was a great introduction to raven!neil

”it’s as exposing as it is freeing. he can’t feel trapped when he can see for miles every way he turns” wow it’s still so early in the fic, but you’ve already done an exceptional job at justifying neil choosing to come here, to escape.

foxtrot tower is such a cute name! i love that it’s not something directly taken from the books, this name seems to fit this au so well. i know that you likely had the game as reference for the tower, but i really liked the way you describe it, you were able to establish the same tone that exists in the game, but you did it through words instead of visuals and audio, something that really impresses me

”glad to hear you’re literate enough to have read the dossier” ohmygoodness ANDREW

”andrew’s tone is playful. neil thinks it might even be flirtatious, but he doesn’t care enough right now to find out” as much as i enjoy oblivious!neil, i appreciate that this version of neil is more aware, he seems more in tune with things around him. it fits better with this story, with the isolation and only communication being through the radio

”the sky slips into a more comfortable pink, the sun laying down to rest amongst the mountains” am i ever going to get over your descriptions of the environment? i don’t think so

of course neil goes for a run, basically right after doing a super intense two day hike in one day

”andrew sounds agitated” I LOVE THIS

oh dang, neil’s panic is so sudden, i’m so immersed that i immediately felt nervous too

”it’s our job to watch the horizon, neil. it’s not my fault you’re on mine” oh this is so good

”neil doesn’t believe in coincidences. he believes in traps and ill intentions, because that’s all his life has been until now”  it’s honestly amazing how quickly the atmosphere of this fic has turned to something a little bit darker, kind of scary. we know neil as a runner, but the idea of someone finding him so soon and trying to lure him out? gives me chills

“he doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until he struggles to press the push-to-talk button” PUSH TO TALK I AM SO FOND OF FICS THAT INCLUDE THE TITLE OF THE FIC IN THEIR FIC. also shaky hands are my kryptonite

”he also takes the cleaver from the kitchen counter” NEIL I- I AM SPEECHLESS

”a small sensible part of his brain tries to convince him that there are much easier ways to kill him than leading him out in the middle of nowhere, in a forest that he told nobody from his past life that he would be living in, where he uses a new name that nobody knows” !! good to hear that neil has a sensible part of his brain LOL

”but underestimating his enemies and their taste for dramatics would be a mistake” neil of all people does have a good reason for being paranoid. i love that you have this separated as a different paragraph, i read it differently because of it and i think that it adds more gravity to the sentence

”there, he finds a lipstick-red tent, zipper teeth yawning open to reveal two pink sleeping bag tongues” the imagery!!! incredible

”he feels like a walking timebomb” yeah i am definitely nervous for neil

”’girls don’t do it for you?’ andrew’s curiosity has a hopeful slant” OHMYGOODNESS ANDREW

”andrew’s voice is a firm, solid reassurance” bless andrew

”neil never thought he’d be relieved to meet someone who didn’t like exy” i also never thought that. neil you are a changed man

ooh the backstory to the fireworks is so good! i was also thinking it was a little out of character, but this is the perfect reason that renee would let it slide!

”the stars are withering in the purpling sky” i could cry because i love your writing so much

A MAN I AM FREAKING OUT. WHO IS HE

the easygoing banter between andrew and neil is so great, their conversation is interesting and flows really well

”he’s almost home” it amazes me and really shows something about this version of neil that he’s so quick to call this tower his home

”i know i needed to do this, but i am not sure i am ready to be so alone” woah break my heart why don’t you? this hits really close to home,, how dare you make me feel emotions

”i usually take a more straightforward approach” andrew never lies, but this is the truest thing he has ever said

”they’ll probably never meet, because neil intends on spending the rest of his summer without meeting another soul, andrew included” hmmm why do i have the sneaking suspicion that this will not be the case?

”neil’s not sure what grindr is but his face heats up all the same” this sentence is a MOOD (except i do know what grindr is)

”andrew’s response is sharp like a blade. ‘why? because one of the girls called you scarface?’ neil feels himself flinch” hhh i am secretly a very big fan of scenes that include neil’s scars, so you got me here

”andrew keeps neil company on the hour hike up to the north of his sector, but his usual commentary seems a bit strained today” uhH what’s going on, i’m getting scared

DID ANDREW BRING NEIL OVER JUST SO HE CAN SEE WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE? 

ohmygoodness, neil leaving andrew pictures and a sweatshirt? so so so cute

”he imagines the fear they felt when they saw him holding it wasn’t too unlike the fear that used to paralyse him when his father, or lola, would threaten him back home” woah this is good

i would bet that allison was the one to write that letter haha i can imagine that renee is likely kind of shaken by the incident, otherwise she might not have let allison leave it behind

andrew is such a good companion for neil, calming him both by his presence and by logically explaining what could have happened to the tent. he’s an anchor

”he feels like the cleaver he had attempted to defend himself with on his first day now carries a foreboding aura” YEAH I’M GETTING PRETTY NERVOUS TOO

WAIT NATHAN IS DEAD? THANK GOODNESS

woah so interesting to learn about neil’s backstory and his reason for not going pro “his offers to join pro teams curled up like dead leaves in a fire” dang, referencing both his burns and his new job? so good

ANDREW MINYARD IMITATING A VALLEY GIRL I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLEASE

oo that subtle way of mentioning andrew’s memory

i am so emotional, andrew is just so so good. makes me feel all the feelings ;-;

”andrew sounds like a bristled up cat tail” CUTE!!

i am dying to know what is going on in andrew’s head, during this conversation, when he left his tower to see neil, and really, just throughout this whole fic

woah i really like the way that you had neil describe his asexuality. it’s something that i recognize in myself and i like the way that you handled it.

 >:C 

them drawing each other?? peak cute. i want that to happen to me (have someone who doesn’t know what i look like try and draw me)

”neil waits for him to say more. he doesn’t. oh. that’s why. ‘heh’” LOLOL

you know what, i actually,,, only recognized the name draco malfoy LOL

ANDREW PRETENDING THAT HE DOESN’T ACTUALLY KNOW AARON OH MY GOODNESS. I CANNOT BELIEVE HE PRETENDED TO GET HIS NAME WRONG. “i look like him. but hotter and better dressed” ANDREW HOW GOOD TO YOU DRESS YOU LIVE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST. this whole section is hilarious and really helps lighten the tone and keep things playful

”’why would i wear that?’ andrew’s response is too quick and defensive” *unintelligible screaming*

ANDREW DRAWING NEIL IN TINY RUNNING SHORTS. THIS! MAN! I CAN’T HANDLE HIM

”neil gets into the routine of falling asleep next to his radio, talking to andrew deep into the night, far past his ability to keep his eyes open. they take turns drifting off mid conversation…” this is the softest thing ever

”considering neil’s job is to prevent forest fires, there’s a certain irony in how beautiful the park is when painted the colours of flames” oh (like a good oh)

ANDREW REJECTING NEIL REALLY JUST BROKE MY HEART WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO ME

”his heart tumbles from his chest and falls to the bottom of the ravine. he doesn’t understand why it was so close to the railings of his ribcage in the first place” this is so so beautiful even though it’s describing something so sad. makes me feel achy

drunk andrew. how is it that you, alexjosten, seem to know everything that i love in a fic?

”neil’s cabin floods with light. how real is neil josten without nathaniel wesninski filling his shell? with a snap, it’s gone.” uh this is so incredible, i love how you split everything up into its own paragraph, their conversation so similar to the storm. ugh i can’t get enough

”still, neil feels the change: the undeniable part of him where his branches have been torn asunder and his bark has been scorched away to expose his core” every time i think that this sentence is the best, and every time you blow me away again. i can’t describe how this sentence makes me feel

the scene of neil rescuing allison and renee fills me with adrenaline, it’s so intense

having the girls recognize neil was like being trapped in a nightmare, there was nothing i could do but read on and see how it ends. dajsflks. but also i really hope that neil got back his jacket and sweater lol

WHAT IN THE WORLD NEIL HAVING TO PLAY A GAME ON CODEINE, RIKO TRYING TO KILL NEIL ON TV, THIS IS SO INTENSE. also, i love what you’ve done with this

dang, how does andrew know kevin?

andrew’s gifts for neil are so cute. i am here just freaking out!!!!

A PUFFBALL DANDELION 

“you sweet, sheltered city child” oh my goodness adorable

”you’re going to go nuts when i tell you what a caterpillar turns into” ANDREW

THE BEAR. THE JUMP

honestly, i’m a little surprised that neil wasn’t supplied with bear spray

”’andrew, i don’t think they’re coming for me.’ ‘of course they’re not.’ neil’s heart sinks. ‘they’re not?’ ‘i am’” KFAJSDFJPOJAFD THIS GLORIOUS INTERACTION WILL FOREVER BE WITH ME

THEM TRAVELLING AND EVERYTHING WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE BECAUSE OF THE DARK. ALSO ANDREW BEING SUPER BUFF AND PICKING NEIL UP NO BIG DEAL

”we had your face on a dart board in the break room” AHHHH

”the only consolation is it smells of the andrew who just walked two hours to rescue him from the side of a cliff, and then spent another two hours carrying him here” i don’t even know what to say

wait andrew knew who neil was the whole time oh my goodness

THE GAME IS ANIMAL CROSSING. this is now and forevermore considered canon! 

ANDREW DROPPING THE GAME HE’S SO TIRED. ANDREW MY BABY

ANDREW’S DRAWING OF NEIL

”half of andrew’s sandwich is in his mouth, and he kind of looks like a hamster” adorable!

okay okay jean and jeremy being the two trading letters? so so good.

THE ENDING WITH ANDREW TELLING STORIES ABOUT NEIL BEING DEAD

the last chapter was amazing, i loved the way that you wrote the interactions between andrew and neil, they fit so well together. i also appreciate that you deviated from the game and had them meet! it is infinitely more satisfying. this was such an easy fic to read, everything felt right. i love your characterization of both of them. to have andrew treat neil the way that he did, knowing who neil was? amazing

also, can i just say that the moodboards that you include at the beginning of each chapter are amazing? they really helped with establishing the tone of the fic.

this fic is so intense, i was constantly amazed by how i was so fully immersed in it. everything that neil felt, i felt. your descriptions were gorgeous and i could not get enough of them. there were so many small details, sentences that were pure gems, that rereading this was just as, if not more, enjoyable than the first time. i really cannot put to words how much i loved reading this. thank you so so much for writing it!

[littleteatimestories]

John Wick x Reader: Start of Something New (FINAL)

A/N: This is it, guyths! This is the final chapter for this John Wick reader-insert. 🥰 Thank you so much for the love and support for this one! I really hope that the 4th installment of the John Wick franchise would be much much better than the third (and more intriguing story, please). Anyway, a second series was already in the works for this reader-insert so expect for that to be published soon.

Enjoy the finale! 😊

(GIF by Tumblr user chadstahelski)

⇇ CHAPTER 1

⟸ CHAPTER 5

“Hey, you awake now?”

You opened your eyes. Helen was smiling at you, continuous beeping coming from the hospital monitors. You stirred your head from different directions as if you were searching for someone.

“He’s not here.”

You turned your attention back to her. She pressed on, “He’s at home right now. He said he’ll be back.”

You licked your lips and cleared your throat. “I’m not really looking for him...”

Helen laughed weakly and drawled out, “Right.”

You just gave a small beam. She spoke again, “I have a favor to ask.”

The upward curve of your lips faded slowly, feeling the sadness starting to envelop you. You didn’t want to utter out anything because you didn’t want for her to continue, but she did, anyway.

“Let’s face the fact that this illness of mine is eating me away already.”

“Stop...” your voice was beginning to quiver.

“(Y/n), there’s only one thing I want you to do for me.”

You pursed your lips to contain your weeping. You knew Helen’s life was inevitable. No matter how much you were in denial, she will eventually disappear forever. You can only honor her wishes, whatever it may be.

“Please love John.”

You gaped at her, tears streamed your cheeks to your jaw. “Helen, I can’t-“

“Please, (Y/n). He needs it. Once I’m gone, he’ll be all alone. I actually have a little companion for him, but I think your love will get him through and give him hope.”

You shook your head. “This is impossible. You know I don’t like him.”

“(Y/n), no matter who he is and what’s his past, give him your heart fully. If you get to know him better, you’ll see how lonely he was. He needs you. I want the two of you to be happy.”

-

Your eyes flickered to open. You heard the hotel telephone ringing loudly in the room. You rose half of your body groggily and examined the room. It was purely a mess. You remembered at once what had happened here.

The phone kept ringing and your head was starting to pound with the repetitive noise. You wobbly stood and marched to it.

“Hello?” your voice sounded sleepy.

“Miss (L/n), I am to inform you that your new room is ready. Do you need assistance in carrying your things?” the concierge informed.

You scanned the room with your eyes again. You were beyond prepared. You didn’t even know how you even slept so relaxingly. Maybe the tiredness beat you to it.

You told him, “I’ll let you know if I’m about to leave.”

“Noted, Miss (L/n).”

You put the phone down and huffed forcefully. You tried to remember what happened with John last night. You talked to him about something, but you couldn’t recall what it was. For some odd reasons, you just fell asleep.

You shook your head. The events after the assassination attempt thing became vague. You just fixed yourself up. Upon doing so, you noticed some purple marks on your neck. It didn’t hurt much, but it made you hiss in pain. You made sure to wear a scarf to cover it up.

When everything was set and packed, you phoned the concierge that you’ll be going down to retrieve the room key.

As you made your exit, you heard another set of glass shattering. It was coming from the room just across, situated at the end of the hallway. You dare didn’t move until the door was unlocked that you budge back quickly inside of your same room. You were hoping that you weren’t caught.

Perkins eyed the door to John Wick’s room. She knew that you’re still in there. She can use you as bait to lure him. She hid the silencer behind her and approached the door slowly. She held the knob and pressed her ear on the door. You, on the other hand, tried to calm yourself. You made sure not to position in front of the hinged entrance as you know it can never deflect bullets. You pressed yourself against the wall near it, trying not to panic or hyperventilate out of too much uneasiness.

The female assassin turned the knob, but wasn’t able to open it freely for another assassin came and interrupted.

“Perkins, what’re you doing?” Jacob inquired.

She faced the man at once. “Oh, Jacob, I should be asking that question,” she stated blandly.

He hummed suspiciously. “Right. Did you look yourself on the mirror? You’re bleeding all over your beautiful face. If you’re going to the doctor, their floor is somewhere else.”

She blinked. “Of course! You’re right! I am going to the doctor. Isn’t this the right floor?”

“Your head must have hit something hard. Come along then, I’ll take you to the concierge and accompany you to the right place.”

Perkins internally groaned. But, she gave a tight smile. “Thank you, Jacob. You’re always a gentleman.” She hid the gun behind her without arousing suspicion and followed him to the elevator, much to her dismay.

Once you felt that everything was clear, you slightly unbarred the door and peeked through. It seemed safe now, but you also have a feeling that not-so-good things happened in that room. So, with your little curious mind, you checked it out.

The entry was closed. You gently turned the handle and, surprisingly, it was unlocked. You entered with caution. The room had the same design as yours, but smaller in size. There was only one bed and you loudly gasped in horror upon witnessing what it was on it.

A fresh dead body...

As instinct, you ran out and into your room. You called the reception desk and reported the incident, stuttering while doing so. Afterwards, you sprinted towards the bathroom and puked.

‘There goes my last meal...’ you joked in your thoughts.

***

Men in black suits came. You even saw the concierge entering the room. You were standing at your doorway, wrapping your arms around your shaking body. It was not usual to see dead bodies so witnessing one made your stomach lurch into vomit mode.

An old middle aged man came closer to you.

“You must be (Y/n) (L/n),” he said. His voice was deep and formal as if he was addressing a royalty.

“Y-Yes,” you confirmed nervously.

“Jonathan told me things about you,” he continued.

“Like what?” You were now cautious.

“That you are his personal assistant.”

You ghosted an exhale of relief as your shoulders relaxed. “That I am.”

He nodded his head slowly. “I see. However, I didn’t believe him.”

You raised a brow. “Why’s that?”

He smiled amusingly. “Oh, my dear, I know Jonathan very well. He prefers to work alone. He may have taken a prodigy, but never an assistant. Did he ever tell you what even an ‘assistant’ means in this world?”

“I never consider to ask him. I just thought it had something to do with the typical secretarial work.”

He puffed a breath. “Oh, that Jonathan... It really is personal,” he murmured.

You narrowed your brows in confusion. He continued, “An ‘assistant’ in the criminal underworld means a cleaner. It means you dispose of bodies like as if no killings happened at all. You are called an ‘assistant’ because you work solely for your employer only. No one is allowed to use your services unless your employer permits you to.”

Your eyes widened and mouth agape.

Yeah, it would make sense why this old man didn’t believe John telling him that you were his ‘assistant’. You already looked fragile; someone who couldn’t get used to seeing dead bodies.

“Okay,” was all you could say.

The two of you stared at each other, neither really giving off any intimidation. The old man spoke first,

“Winston.” He held his aged hand out for a shake. “I am the manager of this hotel.”

You gently held your hand on his. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“I want to thank you for reporting the incident.” He released his hand. “Do you know who did this?”

“I think it’s that woman whom John was acquainted. She just barged in our room and tried to kill John and even me.” You removed your scarf to reveal the faint purple bruise on your neck. “She tried to strangle me.” You circled the scarf back.

Winston already had an idea who it was. But, he still asked, “Do you have a name of this woman?”

You thought for a moment until you harked back to it, “I heard a name. Perkins. I think that’s it.”

Winston crunched his brow up. “Are you sure about that? Didn’t Jonathan mention her name?”

You shook your head. “No. I didn’t even try asking him when we first met her while checking in the hotel.”

He nodded his head again then smiled at you again. “Thank you once again, (Y/n). You’re such a tender young lady. I’m quite downhearted that Jonathan didn’t give us the chance to meet.”

You gave a sheepish beam. “John wouldn’t let me out of the room. In truth, I would be rebellious about that, but for the time being, I follow what he says.”

“You’re understanding about that. Take care of him. He deserves someone good in his life.”

“I’m only his second.”

“I know.” He patted your shoulder. “Charon will lead you to your new room. We’ll take care of everything here.”

You did what he said. The concierge escorted you to your new room.

***

15 hours went by... John was standing on a railing of a bridge. This was the place where he and Helen had their first date. In one of his hands, he had that picture of you and Helen, all smiles for the camera. He looked at you two longingly. It was still difficult for him to accept that his first love and best friend was forever gone. But, he was perhaps given the chance to love again when you and him finally got the chance to know one another. It was early to say that he was in love all over again and if you actually had feelings for him. Yet, he found it endearing that you showed so much care despite his line of work. He found genuine kindness for a woman to be one of the qualities he adored. That’s why he loved Helen so much. He may as well trust his poor and fragile heart to you.

The pitbull pup whined. He sensed his new master’s sadness and wanted to comfort him. John stared at his new pet who also looked at him. This gray pup was in an animal shelter and was scheduled to be euthanized. Poor thing looked really downtrodden upon knowing he would be mercifully killed. So, John adopted him. He might even give comfort to you.

This was not to replace Daisy, but having another companion whenever he’s not around may save you from your loneliness. He already felt guilty of always leaving you in the hotel with only by yourself that it worried him all the time.

The pup barked. John assured him, “Don’t get too excited there, buddy. We’re going home.” He checked the time on his watch and felt dejected when his watch had a crack. The second hand was barely even moving. He exhaled sadly. He really loved this simple black leathered watch that he always wore. It was another memorable gift from his beloved.

He then looked at the distance. “Goodbye, my love. But know that this will never be a forever.” He glimpsed at the photo in his fingers and brushed his lips on it. He pocketed it in his coat compartment. “Time to go home, bud,” he told the dog to which he barked excitedly.

Finally, Iosef was dead, so was Viggo. He’ll finally get his retirement and start over again with his new dog (which he’ll have to think of a name; he’ll probably let you do the naming) and with you.

***

He came back to the hotel. Unfortunately, he incurred the same injuries and bruises.  Upon reaching the reception counter, the concierge spoke, “She is at Room 780.” His eyes diverted to the pitbull who yawned. “Purchased a new pet after a hard day’s work, haven’t you, Mr Wick?”

“Saved this one is the right term. It’s a gift for her.”

The concierge curved his lips upwards. “She would definitely love this dog.”

“Thank you, Charon. Have a good evening.”

“You as well, Mr Wick.”

***

You heard that familiar knock. You rushed to the door and opened it at once. He was standing there. He didn’t even bother going to the doctor. He probably didn’t call for one, either. You noticed he was holding some sort of leash. Your eyes traveled to a medium-sized adorable gray pitbull puppy and you melted right away.

“John, where did you-“

“It’s for us.”

You glanced at him and focused on him. He added, “I know it’s not going to replace Daisy, but-“

“He’s perfect,” you cut in him. You then lovingly enveloped your arms around his neck. “Welcome home.”

He wrapped his arms tightly and softly around you. “We’re home.”

---

More stories right here 🙋🏻‍♀️

[jj-lives]

Do you think you will write more brittana?

Okay!! Fine! Heres something ive been hidding away from back in the day. Ill post it in parts here if people want me to continue. Probably 8 parts about this size. Mostly written just need to re-edit the rest.

Dude Ranch part 1 - Brittana

It’s warmer than I anticipated out in the open. The minuscule breeze isn’t enough to cool me but has just enough force to blow a few stubborn strands of hair from behind my ears and into my eyes. I think, too late, that I should have redone my ponytail before it became a problem. It’s hot but I’m convinced the bead making its way down the curve of my jaw has nothing to do with the heat. It tickles as it makes its way down my neck but I don’t dare wipe it away.

My nostrils flare and I hold my breath for a three-count to halt a sneeze from forming as dust from the ground is churned up. My palms dampen and I tighten my hold. It’s difficult to both relax my muscles and concentrate at the same time.

Just once, please, I beg.

I take a steadying breath and release it as I tighten the muscles in my left leg. I raise my left hand slightly, enough to be noticed but not too much. My body shuffles to the right a half step. I release, relax my leg and lower my arm. I can’t believe it. Ecstatic isn’t the word for it. I’m over the moon! All I want to do is jump for joy but I can’t and it takes more than enough self control to refrain from squealing.

I reach down and run my hands over the velvet softness beneath me before sitting up again. I give myself a metaphorical pat on the back and sigh in relief knowing my job here today is done.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, can ruin my mood right now.

“Lopez!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Before the noise even dies from my boss’ lips a prayer is leaving my own. It’s to no avail. Within a millisecond I feel my body lean back as Buckshot’s hind quarters lower. He jumps forward lowering his head as far as he can reach to tear the reins from me. I try to tighten my hold but the sweat has my hands sliding down the roughened leather so fast I know I’ll have rope burn.

Shit! I’ve just lost all of my leverage.

The air gets punched out of me as my body is jostled forward, my gut coming in contact with the hardened horn of my saddle. Finally, my instincts kick in and I tighten my legs securely around Buckshot’s girth. My body is flung backwards, then forwards again. It’s the worst feeling in the world, worse than the scariest fair ride, to know that another, stronger being than you is in control and there’s very little you can do about it.  I have enough control over my body to stop myself from hitting the saddle horn again. I frantically reach to tighten the loosened reins but I keep losing my grip with each time the fifteen hundred pound animal kicks up.

I’ve been on enough horses to know Buckshot isn’t about to tire himself out. He’s not going to stop until I am on the ground or I’ve gained control. I try again to reach further down the reins closer to the bit but my hand won’t tighten on the leather anymore, the rope burn starting to take effect. I swear under my breath and look up. I’m in the middle of the arena which is good. The last thing I need is Buckshot trying to brush me into the rails to get me off his back.

I prepare myself.  I keep my calves tight behind his front legs and move with him, forward and back, again and again. I breathe, deep and steadying.  

I don’t have to wait long before Buckshot shoots to the right. I kick my feet out of the stirrups and fling my body to the left in one smooth movement.

The landing could have been softer and I immediately make a mental note to tell the maintenance manager to add another truckload or two of sand to this arena.

The air is knocked out of me again and I wheeze to fill my lungs. My body spasms trying to make my collapsed lungs work. I turn on my side and try to breathe deep.  I gasp in a small amount of air and I try again and again. Soon I’m able to take normal amounts of air into my oxygen deprived body but it burns with each inhale. As soon as I can I sit up clutching my stomach with one arm and lean up on the other. Across the arena Buckshot stands still, head level with his withers and eyes trained on me. The staring contest is broken when he snorts and licks his lips.

That bastard!

I stand up and dust my jeans off, not that it helps at all but it gives me a second to assess if there are any broken bones. I don’t find any injuries besides the pinkish hue added to each of my palms. I’m definitely going to need to rub salve on them later.

As I make my way toward Buckshot he stands perfectly still. I don’t know why my first assumption was to think he would bolt. I pause, deciding what’s the best way to handle this.  He needs to know that I do not tolerate bucking for any reason, whether he was scared or not. But as I open and close my hands and listen to my raspy breathing I know I don’t have the strength to fight with him for the required time he would need to learn the lesson. At this point I’d be doing more damage than good so I reach out and grab the reins dragging in the dirt and turn towards the gate. I’m mad, I hate not having the upper hand and this feels like surrendering. Buckshot falls obediently in line behind me and even goes as far as pushing his nose into the small of my back gently. Any other time I would think it was cute, this time it pisses me off more than I already am.

When I get to the gate Burt is there to open it for me.

“Wow, that was some wreck you just had.” He supplies like I hadn’t just experienced it first hand.

“Yeah, he was fine when it was quiet out here.” I can’t really tell my boss he was the reason for Buckshot startling in the first place but the dig is there and I see Burt flinch.  Technically it isn’t Burt’s fault. It just means I need a lot more time sacking Buckshot out. There was no reason for him to react that way but I hate being interrupted when I’m working and I’m disappointed that my good mood is ruined.  Burt might be less likely to interrupt me next time and that’s all I want at the moment. Well, that and getting home to nurse my bruises for the next couple days. But I’m disappointed that I’ll have to start all over with Buckshot when I come back from my days off. We’ve made so much progress this past week. Maybe, by some miracle, he won’t be affected by what happened today.

A girl can dream can’t she?

“Do you have a minute to talk?” Burt catches up to me after closing the arena gate. Well at least I won’t have to come back here to close it.

“About what?” I ask without looking at him. “If it’s about the Johnson’s mare I rode her earlier and she’s coming along great. Like I told them, I need another couple weeks with her and then she can go home.” I rub my ribs on my left side and inhale sharply, definitely bruised.

“No, no, the Johnsons are really impressed with what you’ve done with her. They phoned me yesterday to compliment you. They said they barely recognize her she’s so calm now.”

“Okay, then what’s this about?”

I enter the stable and exchange Buckshot’s bridle for a halter before tying him beside the tack room. I wince as I tighten the knot. I’m so going to be cursing my hands for the next week.

Burt jumps forward before I can make my way to the saddle, “I’ll get that!” He says way too chipper. He loosens the girth strap and lifts the saddle off Buckshot’s back before disappearing into the tack room. I grab a brush and start brushing the black hair flat where the saddle messed it up. When Burt returns he smiles a little too wide at me. I’m starting to get suspicious. Did he take in another client’s horse even though I’m overbooked as it is? Did he forget to order grain again and is now about to ask me to run to town to get some?

“Brent’s girlfriend just went into labour.” His smile must be stuck on his face.

“Well good for them. Isn’t it a little early though? I thought she wasn’t due for another two weeks.”

“She wasn’t,” Burt supplies as he grabs a brush and drags it down Buckshot’s other side. I glance over Buckshot’s withers and Burt averts his eyes. “The doctors said nothing is wrong with the baby. Just that it wanted to arrive early. But this means Brent needs the weekend off.” Burt sighs.

I shrug and throw my brush in the bucket I retrieved it from. I’m about to reply, saying that there are plenty of hands to help feed horses and clean stalls, when I remember the date.

“Hell no!” I grab the lead and quickly untie it before pulling Buckshot toward his stall. I hear Burt follow me.

“But-”

“But nothing,” I cut in.

I make sure there is feed and water in the stall before closing and latching the door behind me.

“I’m going home.” I hang Buckshot’s halter on the hook beside his stall and make my way towards the back of the stables where I parked my truck. Burt’s still following me and he stutters out reasons why I should and why I have to stay. I don’t listen to any of them.

I reach my truck and pull the door open but Burt’s gotten desperate and he rushes forward and slams the door closed before it’s even half open.

“Please!”

“Get Kurt to do it.”

“He’s out of town.”

“Sam.”

“He almost burnt the campsite down last time I tried him.”

“Jamie.” I supply another name.

“She had knee surgery. You know she can’t ride!”

“She walks around the grounds just fine, coulda fooled me.”

“Santana, I wouldn’t ask if you weren’t my last resort. I’ll do anything, just please do this one thing for me.”

I cross my arms over my chest and lean my back against my truck. If I had an excuse I would have played that card but Burt knows I have no plans for this weekend.

“I hate that whole part of this business, you know that!”

“Yes, hence me begging. Please?”

“How many city slickers are coming this time?”

“Four or five. Not many.”

“I want double what you pay Brent.”

“You have got to be kidd-” My face is dead serious and he changes tactics as I reach passed him for my driver’s door. “Fine, okay you win.”

“I’m going home to shower. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” I don’t give him an opening to argue. I just jump in the truck and pull away.

I really, really hate the dude ranch part of Burt’s business. He tries to tell people it’s good for the city slickers to get out into the country and back to their roots. I know better. A bunch of rich business men or women come on retreats and think it’ll be like the old west, like in the movies. They get out here and up in the saddle and I have to watch as they treat these animals like quads more than living things. They kick and yell and “yee haw” so much that their horse gets startled and then they blame the animal for them ending up on the ground.

Not to mention, the guests are supposed to look after their own horses and do the work a real ranch hand would do but all they end up doing is complaining of the smell or how heavy the saddles are and I’m going to be the one having to pick up the slack. Exhaling I keep reminding myself that at least this is a small group.

But even so, this weekend is going to be a nightmare

[bee-kathony]

Four Years | October 18th, 2014

January 2nd, 2014 - February 15th, 2014 - March 8th, 2014 - April 12th, 2014 - May 2nd, 2014 | Year One - June 13th, 2014 | July 29th, 2014 | August 9th, 2014

Year One - October 18th, 2014

My strength was returning. Day by day I felt myself knitting back together, becoming whole once again. One of the things that had really helped me was a support group for people who had survived or were going through cancer.

Damocles Syndrome. The name given to the feeling of fear that the cancer or illness will return, an ever present sword, dangling above your head. To survive was one thing but to continue to live… that was something else entirely.

During my weakest moments, I begged for death to take me. The white light as they say. I wished for no more pain, no more feeling. Most of all I wished to rid Jamie of the burden that was me.

That’s why when I voiced these thoughts to him late one night, he suggested going to a support group.

“There’s only so much I can say, Sassenach, only so many times I can tell ye I love ye and yer beautiful.” His hand traced a pattern back and forth over my arm. “And I will tell ye everyday but ye need to be around people who can understand… really understand what’s goin’ on inside that wee head of yer’s.”

“You’re right.” I sighed, “The hospital has a few different groups, I suppose I can call Joe and ask him to sign me up for one. If it will make you feel better…” I moved closer to him in the bed, no longer shrinking back from his touch but craving it.

“Aye, Sassenach. It will make me feel better to know that while ye heal physically…” he kissed the top of my head, his lips pressed against the short hair, “yer mind heals as well.”

“I’m not promising any results, Jamie, only that I’ll go and check it out.”

“I ken that. But I’m praying to God himself that ye’ll finally start to see yerself as I do.” He looked at me as if I was his whole world, his hand now cupping my check as we lay together.

“And how do you see me?” I couldn’t help but ask, what girl wouldn’t?

Jamie sighed, a smile curving across his lips, “I dinna have enough time in the world to tell ye everything but I’ll say a few.” He pulled me into him, his hand covering the back of my head as I rested it into the crook of his neck.

“First of all, yer a damn fucking warrior.” He laughed, shaking my body with his, “Ye barely even complained, Sassenach. I saw ye hurtin’ but ye never made a fuss. Weel… ye maybe complained about the food but aye, who wouldn’t.”

I felt safe against him as he wrapped his body over mine. Jamie was my outer shell, protecting me from what I couldn’t protect myself from. Willing himself to save me, to save us.

“Yer also a good surgeon, even tho ye havena touched a blade in a long time, I know ye wield it with power, a healer’s touch.”

“You barely even knew me while I was still operating on actual patients,” I thought back to the day he told me he loved me, the same day I learned about my tumor. That was barely two months into our relationship.

Now it’d been nine months since the day I found him in the shower. The scars I had seen on his back I now felt under my fingers, slowly tracing the outline of a particularly deep cut. Jamie’s scars were external while mine were internal. Together we were a mess… but a beautiful mess.

That night I had fallen asleep with Jamie’s body close to mine, his mouth confessing my bravery and kindness. During the night I woke to hear him whispering something in Gaelic but every few words I understood a word in English. I heard “dove”, “preserve”, “harm” and “beloved” and drifted back to sleep, the word’s of my protector covering me.

++++++

The air was changing, turning from the heat of summer into the crisp chill of autumn. I’d taken to sitting out on our balcony in the evenings. The fresh air filling my lungs as the breeze calmed my soul.

My feet were propped up on the railing, a cup of ginger lemon tea in my hands, warming the chill that never seemed to leave my body.

“Bonny day, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, yes.” Jamie walked out, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other he placed on my shoulder.

“Would be even more bonny if we were somewhere tucked away in the Highlands, do ye think?”

On our first date, Jamie promised to take me to the Highlands after my confession that I’d never been. As a doctor, my time was spent with patients; before Jamie, I had no reason to travel outside of Edinburgh.

“Are you asking me?”

Jamie walked to stand in front of me, his hand settling on my propped up ankle, “Will ye, then? Go to the highlands wi’ me? Dance under the stars? ’Tis yer birthday in two days is it no’?”

“Yes, it is my birthday,” I smiled, “And I’d like that very much, please.” Jamie dipped his head to kiss me, “Aye, dinna worry about packin’ yer bag,” his face hovered close to mine, “I’ve already seen to it.”

++++++

We were six hours into our journey to the Isle of Skye. Jamie had booked a small cottage in the highlands, remote from the rest of the world. One week, one peaceful week to get away from all the sickness and hurt that was always lurking. A change of scenery to boost my spirits.

We should’ve been there by now but Jamie insisted on stopping in Fort William to check out Old Inverlochy Castle. I had to admit the Highlands had a certain… magical element about them. The heather moorlands were strikingly beautiful, the purple jumping out as we drove past.

My eyes had been staring at the inside of our loft and the hospital for months. To finally venture out was just what I needed. I also knew this would be good for Jamie, he wasn’t a homebody but he became one for me.

“You packed the board games right?” I tried to look back into the boot of the car.

“Aye, dinna fash, Sassenach. I’ll no’ make ye sit around, I’ll keep ye entertained.” His hand slid over my knee, smoothing over the small rip in my jeans.

Twenty minutes later we reached our destination. Set against the greenery of the Highlands, the small white cottage looked idyllic.

The next few hours we spent on the couch, watching the last two Harry Potter films. One day I hoped that we could actually visit the theme park in Florida.

“Do you think next year, when I’ve been officially tumor free for one year, we could go and visit Harry Potter World?” I voiced my desires to Jamie, his body under mine, breathing steadily.

“Aye, that’d be incredible actually.” He perked up, “We could get robes! And ride the train, the chocolate frogs, Sassenach! Just think about the chocolate frogs.” Jamie smiled, his hands resting on the small of my back.

“And wands too.” I placed a kiss on his lips and it deepened, the movie forgotten for the time being. I could feel another “wand” directly below me that I wanted to have.

I shifted my body slightly so I sat up on Jamie’s lap. He watched me as I brought my hands to the waistband of his sweats. No words were spoken, they didn’t need to be. This was my turn to show him how much I loved him.

Jamie’s breath grew shallow, his eyes turning a dark blue as I pulled down the material over his hips along with his briefs.

Since that day in the gym bathroom, I hadn’t seen his cock. We had never dressed or showered together, avoiding temptation as best we could. Jamie was a saint, if I was being honest with myself. What grown man sleeps next to a woman each night and doesn’t at least try and sleep with her? And I was even surprised at myself, back in the day I had been quite provocative; I blamed the medication for my lack of sexual drive.

I knew the time was coming though, when I would be ready. My pain grew less and less each day.

I took him in my hand and met his gaze.

He was warm in my grip, a throbbing against the palm of my hand. I started to stroke him, and the pad of my thumb pressed against the tip of his cock. Jamie’s eyes were small slits, I knew he wouldn’t close them completely — just so he could watch me.

His hands came to hold my waist, “Sassenach,” he sighed and I moved my hand faster, sliding my other hand in-between his thighs to grip his balls. Jamie arched his back off the couch then fell against the cushions, his breathing becoming more rapid, “Christ, yer wee hands.”

“Does this feel good, Jamie?” I added more pressure from my hand and he squeezed his lips together, unable to speak. I was feeling quite mischievous, so I reluctantly released him and bent my head over his stomach to take him in my mouth.

Jamie’s hand pressed against my shoulder, “No, Sassenach, ye dinna have to.”

“I want to Jamie.” I smiled and my tongue flicked out over his warm skin, the wiry hairs under his belly button scratching my cheek. Jamie groaned as I swirled my tongue on his cock. It didn’t take long before he was groaning and arching his back as he came in my mouth.

His hand was almost too tight on my arm and then suddenly he pulled me up to meet his lips.

Jamie’s grip loosened and he rolled us over so we now lay on our sides. With one hand he tucked himself back into his sweatpants, “Dinna need that hangin’ out or I’m afraid I willna be able to stop myself from takin’ ye mo nighean donn.”

“Soon, I promise.” I whispered against him, our foreheads now pressed together.

“Aye.” He kissed my nose, “Thank ye, Claire. For that.” Jamie’s cheeks went a deep shade of pink, his ears following suit.

++++++

After the movie, we cleaned up and started preparing dinner. Jamie had prepared two grilled cheeses, cheddar, gruyere, and feta with tomato soup on the side. My appetite had grown exponentially so I asked for another and ate it swiftly.

Laying on a blanket outside, hands intertwined, the sky shined above us, the stars twinkling their best for us tonight. Jamie’s thumb rubbed back and forth over my finger, sending a swarm of butterflies to my belly. For months now I hadn’t felt much of anything, least of all butterflies.

Just then, he rolled onto one side and sat up, with his head resting on his hand, “Sassenach, I just want to say a small thing and then I’d like to ask ye to dance.”

I reached up to brush back a stray curl that had fallen in his eyes, “What is it, love?”

“I willna stop lovin’ ye.” His fingers traced along my lips, “No’ in this life or the next, ye are my ev’ry thought,” his fingers brushed my neck and down softly against my collarbones, “my ev’ry heartbeat belongs to you.” Like a marble statue, I lay still as Jamie’s hand continued to trace down my arm and settle to hold my hand.

“Yer face is my heart Sassenach and the love of ye is my soul.”

Closing the space between us, I rolled to my side to kiss him. Jamie knew all the right words to say. I often felt I couldn’t express my feelings properly, at least not in the way that he did.

“I love you, Jamie. Even when I don’t say it as often as I should… just know I’ll never stop loving you either.”

Jamie moved his hand to cover my head which was now adorned with a beanie, the fluffy kind. “I think yer short hair is growin’ on me, Sassenach. Maybe I should join ye and shave off my own hair?”

I opened my eyes wide, “Don’t you dare shave off that beautiful red hair, Jamie Fraser!” I laughed, my hand now touching said hair, “I can pull off this look but you cannot, dear.”

“Och, yer sayin’ ye only love me for my hair then?” He laughed, scooping me up to lay on top of him.

“Aye, Jamie ’tis what I’m sayin’” I mocked his accent which made him laugh and my body move with his.

“Ahh, Sassenach. One of these days I’ll teach ye a proper Scottish accent, yers is terrible.” He kissed me then, thoroughly.

“I promised ye a dance under the stars, mo cridhe and a dance ye shall have.” Jamie rolled us to the side and stood, offering his arms out for me to take. There was music already playing from a small portable stereo Jamie had brought outside.

As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I tucked my head against his chest and the music filled the air.

“And you laugh like you’ve never been lonely, that’s alright, honey, that’s alright with me. Oh you laugh like there’s hope in the story.”

Jamie’s hands rested on my waist, holding me closely to him. The words of the song echoed through my bones. Reminding me to live and to laugh while I still could.

“Oh, you laugh like I’ll be there to hold you always, always here, I’m aways, honey, always here.”

His t-shirt was thin and I felt his rough scars against the pads of my fingertips. The pain that he had been through, the hurt, hanging in the balance of life and death. Jamie had come out on the other side, torn and bruised — but whole. As Jamie swayed us in slow circles, the stars bright above us, I knew I would make it out of this.

++++++

On my birthday, Jamie woke me up with a chocolate cake in bed, softly singing ‘Happy Birthday’. I rolled over onto my back and stared up at him, he was beaming and his smile was so wide it was infectious. I found myself filled with a happiness I hadn’t known for so many months.

“Blow out yer wee candles, Sassenach.” He held the cake out and I inhaled deeply before blowing out the 2 and 8 candles on top.

Jamie set the cake on the side, “What did ye wish for mo nighean donn?”

I pulled him closer and kissed him, “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“That’s no’ fair…” he kissed my nose, “Weel — is it somethin’ I can do for ye?”

“Like what?” I laughed and then froze as he shimmed down the bed and pulled back the covers. His hands grabbed hold of my ankles. “Jamie,” I said nearly breathless.

“Happy Birthday, Sassenach.” Jamie smiled as he spread me open and placed his mouth firmly between my legs.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Connections

greeniebee said: I believe you wrote Connections on Imagine, are you going to continue it? I really enjoyed what you have written.

Turning off the hot water tap, Claire let the steam wrap around her as she toed off her slippers and socks. She felt queasy and it wasn’t from the close heat surrounding her. The fight she’d had earlier in the day with Jamie hadn’t been an ordinary one, they had been seeing each other on and off in the months since the miscarriage and Claire often ran hot and cold with him. Poor Jamie never knew what to expect and Claire knew all too well how cantankerous she could be - but she just couldn’t stop herself.

Though if she was crabby, she mumbled to herself, he was needy and far too emotionally involved. The fight rang clear in her ears as she dropped her t-shirt on the floor, unhooked the button on her jeans and fully unclothed herself. Before she could lower herself into the water the nausea peaked and she dropped to her knees before spewing the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“Fuck,” she muttered, her clammy hands slipping over the cold, damp porcelain of the loo. Her stomach revolted once more, her shoulders shaking as she gagged and retched loudly.

Her lips tingled and her throat stung as she bowed her head and waited for the sick feeling to leave her. Behind her closed lids she could see Jamie’s angry face leering down over her as he’d clenched his teeth in suppressed anger. As suddenly as her irritability had risen so did the feeling of immense guilt.

Claire had needed some space. Her head had been filled with Jamie since he’d entered her life and the pressure of having someone so truly dedicated to her had begun to crush her. It wasn’t that she didn’t adore Jamie’s affection, it was simply that she felt unable to return the sentiment. In a rash and uncharacteristic move she had *almost* kissed another man.

Drink had been involved, that and poor decision making and Jamie had walked into the bar to see Claire hovering dangerously close to the stranger. That had been the final straw and Jamie stormed over, placed himself between Claire and the unknown man and stood possessively over her.

In no need of rescuing, Claire had made a move herself. Sliding from the chair she had stormed out, her cheeks blotted red with rage.

How *dare* he? She was rapidly approaching boiling point and words she desperately didn’t want to say were bubbling on her tongue.

If only he’d let her calm before chasing after her she wouldn’t have lashed out so intensely.

Climbing into the boiling hot water, Claire closed her eyes and swallowed back the terrible taste that had been left on her tongue. She deserved to be sick. She deserved to feel horrid. The one person in this world who’d truly dedicated himself to looking out for her, and she’d treated him so poorly. Her stomach growled as the water lapped over her warm flesh. Holding on tight to the plastic tub, Claire breathed in through her mouth and out through her nose to quell the nausea.

“Not again, please,” she mumbled, her belly disagreeing with her as she turned on her side, one hand still solidly connected to the bath whilst the other ran soothing circles over her stomach. The slight raise shocked her. Having been unaware of herself in the recent months, she had neglected to notice the slight weight gain and now, her palm laid delicately over the subtle arch of her tummy, she finally took stock of herself.

“Probably should lay off the takeaways now,” she sighed upon the realising. Hard working hours, stress and neglect had begun to take its toll on Claire and the results were starting to show.

Pulling herself from the bath, she resigned herself to the facts: Jamie had been hard done to - and it was her fault. Tomorrow, she decided, she would make this right. Grabbing the towel from the heated rail, Claire wrapped herself snuggly in its dense fibres, burying her nose against the faintly floral scent.

Padding into the bedroom, she didn’t even consider getting dressed before climbing into bed and burrowing deep into the duvet.

-- --- --

Claire had felt marginally better come morning but her shift at the hospital was passing unusually slowly. Although she hadn’t eaten anything in the morning before travelling to work, her stomach was still rolling, the acid sloshing about as she walked from patient to patient. It wasn’t bad enough to stop her from performing the surgeries she needed to but the constant and perpetual twists and turns going on inside her were becoming distracting.

“L.J.,” Joe whispered, clearly sensing Claire’s growing distress, “why don’t you take a break. Go and hide out in the on-call room for a while?”

“No, I can’t,” Claire argued as the pair removed their soiled gloves and washed their hands in the communal sink. “I have a consult in about half an hour and then another round check before I have to brief the students for their first night shift…”

“Claire,” Joe interrupted, a very serious note to his voice, “you’re blatantly not well, you’re ashen and you keep rubbing your tummy. Now I know you were sick last night, you told me. I can get someone else to cover your duties for you, but I’m being serious. You need to rest. Even if you just take that half an hour you have spare and see how you feel once that’s over?”

Sighing loudly, Claire nodded. Wrapping her arms around her middle she dried her hands on her scrubs before sloping off in search of a quiet on-call room. With it nearly being the middle of the day, most of the beds were unoccupied - all of the doctors and nurses being out on rounds or busy with their patients. It gave Claire the opportunity she needed to just sit. With her head in her hands, her feet tapping nervously at the torn up lino on the floor, she just took deep breath after deep breath, re-centering herself after a busy morning.

She didn’t realise until it was too late that her belly had taken that as a sign that it could play up again. Gurgling loudly, the remaining contents of Claire’s stomach push along her esophagus and out onto the tired floor. Claire gasped for breath, holding on to the side of the small single bed as she vomited. Thankfully her hair was still tied back from the surgery but her trousers were stained now with bile.

Cautiously, she stood, her knees shaking as she shimmied towards the door eager to get away from the putrid smell that now encased her and find a janitor to help her clean up the mess. Pushing his way in, Joe caught the door just as Claire was emerging.

“Oh dear, L.J.,” he soothed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and signalling to the closest nurse, “I think we need to get you into bed.”

“I don’t need that, Joe,” Claire tried to reason, feeling immediately better now she had fresh air swirling around her. “Honestly, I’m alright.” “You are not *alright*, Claire. You’ve been sick for weeks now, but you’ve been putting off the inevitable. You can’t keep working through it like this. What if it’s a virus?” He whispered, it was no good getting everyone wound up if Claire was just suffering from a small bout of flu. But illness in a hospital was a dangerous thing. “What if it’s something that you could transfer to one of your patients? Don’t you owe it to them, if nothing else, to make sure it is just nothing...as you say.”

Unable to disagree with Joe’s assessment of the situation, Claire nodded her assent. “Y-yes, you’re right of course. I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like it’s that bad, you know?”

“Ha, L.J.,” Joe jested, “you’re a doctor. We’re all our own worst enemy, you know that. We’re either declaring we’re dying or brushing over the facts by trying to downplay our illness. And we *never*,” he said with a chuckle, “make good patients ourselves.”

-- --- --

After getting Claire settled (in a private room, away from anyone who might recognise her for safety sake and for her own sanity) Joe trotted off to prepare some of the more easier tests.

“We’ll take bloods and urine first,” he had said with great glee as he held aloft the massive needle, “I’ll take them down to the lab and then we’ll go from there. If the guys think that it’s anything more serious we can do more tests, alright?”

Claire sat in bed, the sheets curled up around her middle with a series of medical books surrounding her. Looking for a moment she flashed Joe a smile and nodded. “Yes, doctor,” she joked, saluting Joe as he shook his head, laughter coursing through him as he waltzed off in search of the laboratory staff.

Peeking his head around the door he found the team happily working away.

“Hey, Josh,” he said, calling over one of the younger technicians, “Dr Beauchamp’s taken sick, Can you look at these quickly and give me a diagnosis? You know Claire, she won’t sit down for a moment,” he continued, smiling along with the young lad as he messed with the buttons on his lab coat, “but she’s resting at the moment.”

“Oh, sure,” Josh replied, a tentative smile creeping at the corners of his lips. They all knew Claire, even the young lads. Although she could be fierce when in the midst of a difficult task they all liked and admired her. “I’ll do the early prelims now if you like? That way we can be assured that anything easy to pinpoint has been eliminated.”

Taking the blood and urine sample, Josh pulled out his microscope and testing implements ready and began working through the main causes of sickness as Joe stood to the side, waiting patiently.

“Ah!” Josh said minutes later, “I think I have your diagnosis.”

Joe pushed himself away from the wall, scratched his head and walked towards Josh. “So quickly, is it serious?”

“Nah, not really. But I guess that depends on the person and their definition of ‘serious’, doesn’t it?” Josh joked, peeling the silicone gloves from his hands and wiping the dust from the insides down his lab coat. “Dr Bea-, Claire, well, she’s pregnant.” He continued, seeing the look of confusion run across Joe’s face.

“Pregnant?” Joe parroted in return, even more perplexed now. “Are you one hundred percent sure about this, Josh?” He asked, his palms sweating uncontrollably now. Joe had been there through every bump in the road, through the break down of her relationship with Frank and the subsequent difficulties she’d had conceiving. To be told this, in the cold labs of the Glasgow A&E department had Joe shook and he needed to be certain of the facts before he went back to Claire.

“Y-yes,” Josh stuttered, “I can do it again for you but I’m more than certain that she is.” Pointing at the urine sample, he showed Joe both that and the blood test. “See, both indicate positive signs of pregnancy. The later stages too, more than a few months. Has she not noticed any growth? Surely her abdomen has hardened now, she might even be showing.”

“She hasn’t mentioned it, no. So the sickness,” Joe asked, “that’s just morning sickness?”

“Yes, I’d say so. Has she mentioned feeling ill other than the throwing up?”

“No,” Joe replied, “quite the opposite in fact. After she’s vomited she says she’s fine.”

“Then you have your diagnosis, doctor,” Josh said, smiling more fully now, “you can go and deliver the good news, can’t you!”

[dazaidisorder-blog]

“Musing in the midnight rain.”

“~ Fear. Verb. To be afraid of something, or someone, that has a potential to cause you pain or harm.” The gentle pitter patter of the rain bounced off the moonlit rooftop of a building could be seen, towering, high above the skyline of Yokohama. As the rain splashed around the figure, dressed all in black, his hands could be noticed closing a small, black leather book. 

“Fear is an odd thing; a chemical imbalance in the brain that tricks you into thinking that those around you wish you to befall an ill fate. Sometimes these fears are irrational, a sort of, paranoia, if you will. But sometimes, these fears are realised. They strike a dread within you unlike anything you’ve ever known. Freezing you in place, consuming every sense of rationality you have. So when these fears are realised, there is no going back. There is no... satiating it, this... primal desire… this instinct that drives you to fight or to take flight.”

The figure finally raised his head to look towards the subject of whom they were addressing.  “Which, even unto itself is a more interesting turn of phrase, do you not think? “Take flight”. Like a bird on hastened wings, escaping the clutches of predators. Yes quite odd indeed. Humans don’t have wings.” The figure let the moment hang, the rain, almost completely undisturbed by any wind began to fall a little more heavily, as if to accent the mood the, albeit one sided, conversation had developed. 

“At least not naturally anyway.”  There was a hint of amusement to the figures words as he continued “But, foolish humans use this phrase to try and free themselves from their primitive bodies, to give themselves this sense that… they can actually be free. But freedom comes at a heavy price. You must reject this mortal coil that we all find ourselves in and embrace that you can never return to your ilk.”

Again the figure stopped speaking for a moment. These moments of respite never quite seemed like they were for the subject, more to allow the speaker to contemplate his own phrasing and to reflect on the meaning of his own words. “Well, only once you have sprouted true wings and sailed high above the clouds of reverie and into the beckoning light of dreams that must surely lay above it.” The figures gaze now moved away from the subject and looked directly up into the unbroken clouds raining down onto the city. The figure moved the umbrella that they had been wielding to shield themself from the rain and now starred with a newfound clarity. 

“It’s intriguing to think about, do you not agree? That perhaps, what makes us all alike is that we all seek something. And without something to seek we may as well be considered just empty husks. Living our lives one second to the next. Waiting, ceaselessly waiting for a reason, any reason, just to continue this endless facade that we call existing. It could hardly be called living at all really.” A low sigh escaped the figures lips, as the now rain washed face looked back towards the subject. Re-positioning the umbrella to once again shield from the rain the figure used their free hand to move some of the now soaking wet hair away from their eyes.

“I guess that’s why I am here? Why I am doing this. Why for some reason I am relentlessly doing what I do. Just hoping to find some way to fill this void that consumes my yearning to exist. I wonder if this void has a limit? Perhaps if I experience enough, I will overflow with desire, like a chalice overflowing with a fine wine.” The figure almost stopped and almost sounded shocked at their own words. 

“Hmm, what an odd metaphor to use. Perhaps his habits are rubbing off on me after all. I should really say, that perhaps my new found desires will, finally, make me human?” 

The figure stopped speaking for several minutes after this, they just stood there, letting the rain continue to wash away the sins of the city and the somber atmosphere that had enveloped the two. “Well thank you for listening. But sadly, your usefulness has come to an end. Allow me to give you a gift though. Allow me to give you wings on which you will soar. Please, let yourself soar into the realms of freedom that I mentioned, a realm I will one day follow you too.” The figure gave a small nod to someone that was almost completely out of sight. There was a metallic clunking sound as the shackles that held the subject opened. Within the blink of an eye, the subject fell from the rooftop and disappeared into the abyss that was below.

The figure moved deftly, tossing aside their umbrella and jumped up onto the railings that covered the edges of the rooftop. Standing upright, heels together, they gazed down unto the abyss in which they had just watched a poor soul cascade into. They closed their eyes, spread their arms out wide, beginning to picture wings sprouting from their back, they calmed themself, as the wind whistled in their ears. The cold rain once again washing over them. The figure took a deep breath, exhaled and… nothing. The figure once again opened their eyes, with an almost sullen look on their face.

“Dazai?” A voice beckoned towards the figure precariously balancing on the railings. “Come on, we have work to do, you can kill yourself some other time” chimed the now irritated voice.  

Dazai slowly turned his head towards the figure that was now addressing him, “you’re right, this is not the experience on which I will earn my wings” he mused to himself as he lept down from the railings. Plunging his hands into his sodden pockets, he followed the other inside, leaving only the rain, now illuminated by the moonlight that was now visible in the parting clouds, to dance on the rooftop.

[topfics]

Truce

Tyler Joseph X Reader (AU)

A/N: alright so this is going to be a triggering fic, it has a lot to do with suicide attempts, severe depression, etc. this came to my mind this week, after hearing Logic’s song about suicide. I thought it was incredibly powerful, as someone who wanted to commit suicide for a long time. I really, truly believe that life is worth living. And I know many of you are struggling. Maybe some of you aren’t quite sure what to do. And the simple answer to that is to get help. Talk to someone you trust. Don’t let those thoughts define who you are. And if you ever need someone to talk to, please know that I am ALWAYS here. I’ll leave hotlines down below. Stay strong. Stay alive.

Trigger Warnings: suicide attempts, severe depression, language 

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!

“I never thought that we would be in the same position as we were four years ago, Tyler. Funny how things change, huh? I remember standing here too, wanting to end my life. And I remember you coming over to me… pushing through the crowds of people, the barricades… and you slowly walked towards me. We didn’t know each other at all… you just strongly felt like you needed to save my life. I remember everything you said to me. But now it looks like it’s my turn to save you.”

—————————————–

The sun was rising, and you soaked it all in. Beautiful shades of pink, red, and orange filled the morning sky, making the city look even more breathtaking. Smiling slightly to yourself, you could feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes. You were going to miss these kinds of sunrises. You stood on a bridge, overlooking the skyline. You had finally made up your mind. It was the day. Struggling for far too long, you made the decision that you didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Your expression going blank, you stood on that bridge for hours, waiting for the right moment to go over and jump. Eventually, you climbed over without really realizing it. What were you waiting for? Maybe there was a part of you that didn’t want to do this. Perhaps there was a reason why you waited so long to do this.

People began to notice immediately, and sirens were blaring in the distance. Your eyes began to look down at the rushing body of water that was about to take your life. You shut your eyes and took in a deep breath. You could hear workers calling for you not to jump. Through your vision you could see them setting up barricades to not allow anyone near who could risk you jumping even sooner.

You often wondered why you didn’t stay in the comfort of your own home… could it be that were too many awful memories? Or was it a way of telling you that you shouldn’t be even thinking that this was a possibility for you?

Shaking your head, you started to block off the words coming from the police officer’s mouth. You didn’t want anyone to stop you. No one cared for you until now, right? Life began to lose its level of worthiness when you were young. No one could ever explain what was going on. Hardly anyone ever listened. Alone and abandoned, you felt like there was no other choice.

Through your own thoughts you could hear the officers trying to push someone away. Nothing seemed to be working. The guy was determined to come talk to you. You opened your eyes once more and looked down at the body of water, wondering if it was even going to work. What would you do if it didn’t? Your mind was racing a million miles an hour. It was dizzying, exhausting to even be standing there.

Suddenly, you could hear the man’s voice, trying to get you off the ledge.

“Hey there…” he began, his voice a little shaky. The whole entire street was watching him, counting on him to save someone’s life today. The man clears his throat. “My name is Tyler… what’s yours?” he coos.

You slowly turn your head towards him, tears streaming down your face. His warm brown eyes greeted you with love. He gives you a soft smile and slowly inches his way over to you.

“I’m… I’m Y/N…” you reply quietly.

“I think that’s a beautiful name. Why don’t you come over the bridge and let’s talk.”

You shake your head rapidly and start to cry harder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m right here. I’m gonna be here for you. I know we don’t know each other but… to me it’s worth getting out of my comfort zone if that means I’m going to save someone today.”

“No… no one cares for me… and if they do they all leave and I’m left all alone again and I don’t want to deal with that anymore.” you cry out.

“I know it’s hard. I’ve dealt with the same things. People suck. I just think that you haven’t found the right people yet. It takes time. And it may seem like it’s been forever, but I can honestly say that I don’t even think I’ve met the right people yet. And maybe you can change that for me. And hopefully I can change that for you.”

“I don’t have anyone! Everyone left me! I’m all by myself! There’s nothing for me here! No one would care if I was gone! The world would keep spinning.”

“Don’t think like that. I know it’s just the voices in your head. Trust me, I know. And it’s taken me a long time to convince myself otherwise. And sometimes, it’s still a battle even today. But I promise you. People care. They’d be devastated if you jumped.”

“You don’t even know me. You don’t know shit about me or what I’ve been through.”

“That might be true. But I know that we’re both mentally ill. That we deserve better than what our brain is telling us. That those thoughts that’s constantly telling us no one cares, or that the world would be better off without us… that we’re alone… they’re the enemy. Those ideas this seed of depression is planting… it’s all a lie. I know it’s hard to believe. But you need to start telling that voice to fuck off. It doesn’t get to define who you are.”

“It’s so damn hard… I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. I don’t want to be here anymore. No more sleepless nights, no more nights where I cry until morning… no more being useless.”

“You aren’t useless. Everyone has a part on this planet. Some might be more obvious than others, but you have one. I do. I might not know it yet. But who knows? It could be this moment, right here, right now.”

“I can’t do it anymore… I just can’t.” you whisper. So many thoughts were running through your mind. A part of you wanted to believe him and come back over the edge to safety, yet another part wanted to take that jump. You were conflicted, unknowing of what to do. Why does he even care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. Why was he insisting? Sure, he was genuine in what he was saying, but how could you be sure that he was going to stick around if you did decide to step back over?

“Why the hell do you even care…?” anger began filling your voice, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was interfering with your plans?

Tyler paused for a few moments before answering.

“If I’m being honest, it’s because I’m sick of losing people to suicide. Even if I don’t know them. I’ve had close friends who caved in and took their lives. I don’t want to ever go through that again… I don’t want their loved ones to go through that pain. No one should have to grieve over a death that was made by choice. It sucks. That pit in your stomach, wondering if there was something you did to help them push themselves to that decision. Wondering if there was something you could’ve done differently to prevent it. Only having those memories way back when. Knowing that their parents or younger siblings outlived them.” he breaks eye contact with you before continuing. Tyler takes in a deep breath and begins once again.

“Suicide… it’s like being a suicide bomber. You take it in and the people closest to you are the ones who experience the most pain. You leave a mark… a scar on them forever. They will have to live with the trauma that you inflicted on them. You know… to help me get through tough times like this… I would tell myself over and over again that nights will come to an end, but the sun will rise and I need to try again. That I needed to stay alive. We’re all going to die. But our lives are free now. We need to take pride in that.”

You looked down at your feet, wondering what battles he was facing himself. Did he really know what you were going through? Was it possible that you weren’t alone? That other people had similar mindsets?

“Please, Y/N, stay alive. Stay alive for me.”

You turn to face him, your eyes bloodshot from the countless nights being awake and from crying so much. Shaking began to take over your body, and you couldn’t stop. Your mind was a menace, continuing to tell you to jump, and your heart was battling, telling you to listen to Tyler. To finally open up and trust in someone. You gripped the rails with all your might, causing your knuckles to turn white.

Your body slowly began to move, eventually climbing back over to safety. Tyler strides over to you, embracing you in his strong arms. Comfort overwhelmed you and you sobbed into his shirt.

“I’m so scared, Tyler.” you confessed.

“I know… I know… but you don’t need to be.” he offered. He stroked your hair and continued to hold you until you were calm.

All around you, cries of happiness filled your ears. You looked around slightly to see that people were actually relieved that you chose to live. It was comforting… to know that strangers valued your life.

“Hey…” Tyler tilted your chin up. “Here’s a little tip for surviving the nights… sometimes to stay alive you have to kill your mind. Whether that be with going to bed with music, exercising until you’re tired enough, drinking some warm milk or hot cocoa to calm you down… it helps. I promise. Getting your brain to shut down is key. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. I promise you’ll be okay.”

You nodded slightly, allowing him to carry you to the ambulance. He sets you down and they begin to take vitals, making sure that you were in a good state physically.

“I need help… don’t I…?” you inquired.

Tyler gives you a reassuring smile.

“We all need a little help sometimes. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll be sure to visit you and write you, Y/N. I promise. I’m not leaving. I told you. I’m not a person who breaks promises.”

You smile and him and nod. That was the first real smile you’ve had in awhile. It felt good. You got up from the car and walked over to him once more, giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you, Tyler.”

—————————————–

SUICIDE HOTLINES AROUND THE WORLD

USA: 1-800-273-8255

Argentina: +5402234930430

Australia: 131114

Austria: 017133374

Belgium: 106

Botswana: 3911270

Brazil: 212339191

Canada: 5147234000 (Montreal); 18662773553 (outside Montreal)

China: 85223820000

Croatia: 014833888

Denmark: +4570201201

Egypt: 7621602

Finland: 040-5032199

France: 0145394000

Germany: 08001810771

Holland: 09000767

India: 8888817666

Ireland: +4408457909090

Italy: 800860022

Japan: +810352869090

Mexico: 5255102550

New Zealand: 045861048

Norway: +4781533300

Philippines: 028969191

Poland: 5270000

Russia: 0078202577577

Spain: 914590050

South Africa: 0514445691

Sweden: 46317112400

Switzerland: 143

United Kingdom: 08457909090

[dellannerayeuniverse-blog]

Where lies the truth

Dragon age Fan Fiction

He'd asked her to accompany him alone, a romantic gesture. Ellana thought as they walked the worn path outside of Skyhold's massive front gates. Solas had been a mystery for some time. She enjoyed his company and while they rarely agreed she felt there could be a future. Though she'd flirted with Cullen more than once and she liked him, being and Elven mage she thought he'd never be with her. He was a Templar, a knight once in service to their Divine, he stood against magic, against people like her. She had little fear of him, although her wits told her to be cautious. When Solas had kissed her in the fade, she felt at ease, as if it were something more.

“The Veil is thin here, can you feel it on your skin tingling?” Solas turned to her and asked, a solemn look in his eyes. Yet she thought she saw, affection or something like it. “I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.” He continued as he gently touched her cheek and then let his hand fall down again.

“I’m listening, and I can offer a few Suggestions” Ellana playfully responded smiling coyly.

“I shall bear that in mind” he smiled “For now the best gift I can offer is …. The Truth. You are unique, in all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the fade. You have become important to me. More important than I could have imagined” He spoke with an intense gaze upon her face.

“As you are to me”

“Then what I must tell you… The Truth, your face, the vallaslin. In my journeys in the fade. I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean” his voice smooth and confident.

“They honor the elven gods” Ellana responded shyly.

“No, They are slave markings, or at least they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.” Solas revealed, seeing the questioning look in her violet eyes.

“My clan’s keeper said they honor the God’s, these are their symbols” her voice quivering more than she thought it would.

“Yes that is right, a noble would mark his slaves to honor the God’s he worshipped. After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

“So this is what, just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?” she asked tears threatening to start falling.

“I’m sorry”

“We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep? Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter?” She asked not looking at him.

“Don’t say that, for all they got wrong, The Dalish did one thing right, they made you.” he smiled saying as he lifted her face to look at him”I didn’t tell you this to hurt you, if you like, I know a spell…. I can remove the Vallaslin.”

“These marks have been apart of me for so long. I don’t know if… “ she trailed off unsure.

“I am so sorry for causing you pain, It was selfish of me. I look at you and I see what you truly are… and you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent”

“Then cast your spell. Take the Vallaslin away.” her voice echoing her feelings.

“sit “ Solas motioned her over to a bench in the clearing. Closing her eyes she could feel the magic from his fingers and a veil colored light tingled over her face. She felt his fingertips brush her dark brown hair as his hands came to rest upon his lap. He looked in her eyes intently, full of emotion and thought. “Ar Lasa Mala Revas. You are free. He told her, as they stood up. They looked at one another. “You are to beautiful.” he finally said in a husky whisper, as he leaned into her and kissed her. Breaking their kiss abruptly a sorrowful look foming upon his stern features “And I am sorry, I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.” He affirmed putting space between the two of them.

“Solas” her voice cracked as she tried understanding what he was saying.

“Please Vhenan?” came a plea from him.

“Tell me you don’t care?” Ellana demanded.

“I can’t do that” he whispered in response.

“Tell me I was some casual Dalliance so I can call you a cold hearted son of a bitch and move on!” her voice rising as he pushed him in the chest shoving him backwards.

“I’m sorry” he whispered again as he turned and started walking away.

She watched him walk away from her, her chest heaving, tears falling. Confused and unable to move she just stood there. She’d not noticed the Inquisition guard leaving just after Solas. All she did was stand there and cry in that clearing just outside of Skyhold.

Chapter Two:

“Ser” A scout that had accompanied Ellana and Solas out of Skyhold came marching into his office as if there were an impending attack”It’s the inquisitor Ser” she continued breathlessly as if she’d run the whole way.

“What it is? “ Cullen jumped from his wooden seat from behind his desk. Blood rushing to his already throbbing head. Balancing himself on his desk he looked at the scout “What’s happened?”

“Ser, that Solas” She heaved catching her breath” he left her alone in the clearing down by the end of the path. I didn’t hear everything but she’s only standing there crying” The Scout finally finished her report.

“What?!?” he boomed. His heart raced, he’d liked her from the start. Though when she chose Solas he was hurt he’d resigned himself to remaining close to her. Grabbing his sword and shield he marched for the stables. “Show me where!” he commanded as they rode down the path leaving the Skyhold gates. As they rode his anger rose higher and higher, He knew he didn’t trust Solas, but his mind kept him questioning if it were due to his being a mage or jealousy at their closeness or if it were that Solas had ill intentions, but Cullen set his jaw and resolved to find out one way or another.

A short distance from the small alcove he stopped his horse and dismounted leaving his shield on the saddle he took his sword and sheathed it. “Show me where now!” he barked not meaning to sound that way.

“In there Ser” The scouts shaking hand pointed to a clearing surrounded by trees.

“Wait here, Stay on guard and for makers sake keep this to yourself!” he ordered as he tried to calm himself before walking towards Ellana. “You hear me, not a word?”

“Yes Ser!” the young recruit saluted and stood at attention.

Walking closer towards what sounded like a lake he could hear her crying, her breathing erratic. I’m going to kill Solas, Cullen Thought to himself. “Inquisitor?” he called out softening his voice as not to startle her. “Ellana?” He rarely used her first name, it wasn’t proper. Though somehow proper didn’t seem to matter in this situation. He could see her sitting on the snow near the lake her head in her hands, shivering from the cold. Frost forming on the tips of her chestnut hair “ Here” he whispered as he covered her small frame with his Cloak. Kneeling down to her level, looking her in the eyes, he could see she’d been crying for a while. Her tears streaking down her face. “Are you alright?” he asked her unsure of what he should do or say.

“They needn’t bother you Cullen” she whimpered through tears.”I’m sorry”

“Tis no bother. I’m here for you, talk to me please?” his voice pleading just as much as his amber eyes. “Did he hurt you?” he asked wiping a tear from her cheek, as he helped her stand up. “Come let’s get you back to Skyhold”

Just as he had been about to wrap an arm around her shoulders to aid her to his horse, she turned to him, flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him, sobbing into his neck. He could only attribute his reaction to instinct, as he embraced her. Letting her cry softly against him. They stood there him holding her as she sobbed for some time. He being torn between not wanting to let her go and knowing he needed to get her back to the castle where she could be warm.

Finally she looked up at him through tears “I don’t understand.”

At that he’d decided sweeping an arm around her waist, he turned her picking her up he placed her on his horse. Carefully he mounted the horse behind her. Her legs dangling both to one side as he used his arms to keep her steady on the horse.”Come let’s go home, we’ll sneak you into your quarters the back way and I’ll have a talk with Solas” his jaw began clenching and unclenching as he guided the horse back towards Skyhold.

He’d been able to sneak Ellana into the main building and up to her chambers with relative ease. Carrying her up the stairs he finally set her down on the sette next to the railing. She laid down curling up her knees to her chest as he covered her with a blanket he found on a nearby chest. “I’ll come by in a while with some food and check on you” he spoke softly turning towards the stairs to leave the room. He had a destination in mind, wanted answers and despite his abilities found himself having a hard time keeping his cool.

“Cullen?” he heard her voice cracking as she asked after him

“Yes, My lady?” he’d responded trying to even his voice out.

“Thank you” she sniffled

He smiled as he descended the remaining stairs, exiting her quarters through the main hall he began a steady stern march towards the atrium where Solas usually could be found, his hand in a fist the closer he came. Ignoring all the people who greeted him along his path he reached his destination rather quickly. His muscular frame entering the doorway as his amber eyes blazed at the elf that stood before him. Without a word, without a warning he flung his right fist forward, connecting with Solas’s jaw knocking the elven mage into the nearby desk. Crashing candles, inkwells and books could be heard as the room echoed their sound. As he lunged forward again he snatched Solas up by his linen shirt lifting him off the ground to eye level “You’d better have a damned good reason elf” he commanded, his anger lacing each syllable as he stared into the elf. “What in the Maker’s name did you do?” Cullen bellowed throwing Solas with relative ease into the nearest wall.

As Cullen began coming towards him again Solas cast an energy barrage at him, however instinct and anger fueled Cullen’s response as he muted the magic with ease. “I will not speak of it” Solas attempted to respond stuttering as he did so.

“Yes you will!” His voice boomed through the room, Cullen no longer caring who heard.” I’ll have the truth now!” Again he stood over Solas his body conveying the power he’d trained to learn for years, every bit of Templar and every bit of a man angered. “You hurt her! Then left her alone!” His voice reaching it’s limit as he towered over Solas, demanding answers.

“It’s private” Solas had begun

“Stop! Both of you!” Ellana yelled from the doorway still wrapped in Cullen’s fur Cloak. Her face still pink and wet from tears she’d cried.”Cullen, can I speak with you, alone” her voice softened as she gazed at the wonder of a human, a human Templar defending her.

“Alone? Ah… sure” he responded as he shot one more glare at Solas. “I’ll finish this later” he growled turning and walking away from him.

They’d walked silently back through the main hall, into the outer part of her chambers and didn’t speak until they reached her desk. Ellana turned towards him, her eyes not as somber, or sad as he’d seen them before. They held something else, something he couldn’t place at this moment. He still felt his anger simmering just beneath his practiced stance and easy smile. “Cullen, I’m so sorry that I angered you” she spoke as she looked at her feet, as if embarrassed by what had happened “I’m grateful you showed up though” her voice quivering as she kept her eyes on her own feet shuffling them slightly.

A silence fell in the room before he spoke”Ellana, none of this is your fault, I don’t know what happened, but i’m sure you did nothing wrong” he began as he stepped closer to her, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. Eh I suppose I should make my apologies to Solas” his confidence wavering, making him stop mere inches from her. He couldn’t gage her reaction, he wasn’t sure if he’d angered her, or had he done something wrong.

“Don’t bother, he doesn’t deserve one” her voice cut the tension as he heard a chuckle in her words. She lifted her face looking him in the eyes. Staring into violet eyes, he came to the realization that he indeed love her. “Can I ask you something Cullen?” She broke his thoughts

“All you have to do is ask” smiling he relaxed his posture, enjoying finally the view of her wrapped in his cloak. How it enveloped her completely, how even though a raging fire burned five feet away she kept it snug around her, as if she enjoyed it.

“Why did you…” she began “I mean why did you go after him?”

Cullen could feel his heart pounding, his mouth went dry as he tried to find an answer that didn’t involve the inevitable because I love you. However his mouth over ran his mind and before he could stop himself he’d said it.”Because I love you, because I may not be who you want, but damn it I’ll be damned if anyone is going to hurt you” He froze his words hanging in the air between them. His face flushed as all he could think about was how he wanted to run from this room.

“But… I’m a mage” he could hear her fear “I mean I’m an elf and a mage.”

“What-ever I fear of magic, I see none of that in you” Cullen’s feet acted on their own as he slowly closed the distance between them, lifting her face to his he continued “I’ve always cared El, I just thought you wanted to be with someone, hun well someone like him.” he let out a sigh he hadn’t known he’d been holding in, he could smell her perfume, lilacs, see her lip quiver as her eyes searched for an answer from him. “I’ve messed this up haven’t I?” he asked turning away from her. “I’m not very good at this am I?”

“I don’t think anyone really can be” Ellana broke the silence

Finally turning to face her his mind questioning everything she did and said.

“I’m not wanting to get in between you and Solas” he began his nerves threatening to shatter what confidence he’d built up.”I just have to know, I mean.” he rubbed the back of his neck, signaling his nervousness.”Maker this sounded much better in my head” he exhaled “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have brought this up, given what happened earlier” he said as he excused himself to attempt to regain some sort of dignity back. Stepping towards the stairs he stopped briefly looking at her and said “Should you need anything you’ve only to ask Ellana” he deliberately used her first name.

“Cullen, wait” she stopped him as he’d reached the third stair “I’m mixed up right now, but I do care for you.” she began as she walked towards where he now stood “It’s over between Solas and I, I chose him because” she trailed off, “well because I’m a mage, an elf and I didn’t think you cared”

His heart felt like it had been beating a hundred miles a minute “Didn’t think I cared? I suppose that’s my doing. I have always cared.” his words lingering between them “I won’t rush you El, I’ll wait as long as you need.” he told her as he stepped closer to her.”I just need to know that there is a chance?” he questioned, feeling like forever passed before she answered him.

Her smile beamed, where not long ago streaming tears formed a path. “Yes, of course there is a chance” came her reply as she flung her arms around his neck kissing him. He surprised even himself when he kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist as he held her close to him. Maker’s Breath, the one time I wish I’d worn something other than my armor. He thought as with his tongue he deepened the kiss, gently moving his between her lips. Suckling her bottom lip between his teeth gently before breaking it off, knowing himself he’d go further, he wanted to give her time.

Chapter 6

The whole way walking back to his office Cullen had a smile on his face, the scar on his lip only curving with his smirk. Walking into the atrium he stopped Solas, returning the stern look on his face, towering over him he growled “Come near her, hurt her in any way. You will answer to me. You hear me?” he’d meant every word, he already wanted to rip the mage limb to limb. “Don’t think I won’t know what you do when your away from here.” he left the veiled threat hanging in the air as he exited to the walkway that led to his own office. Cullen knew he’d honor Ellana’s wish for no more violence, though he still thought Solas deserved every bit he got.

Cullen tried to busy himself the rest of the morning with reports and training. It wasn’t working too well, his mind going over what if’s and what would happen if she forgave Solas. While he had always been a confident, capable warrior and Templar, he’d not been good where love would be concerned. He’d had relationships, he’d flirted with Solana, the hero of Fereldon, who now commanded the Grey Wardens of Fereldon and been married to Alistair. Cullen could remember how’d he’d treated her after the tower events. It sickened him, the thoughts of what he’d asked the wardens to do. He’d spent the past decade trying to atone from that, attempting to make right what had gone terribly wrong. Now thinking back on his feelings for her, the ones he’d thought were true love. He knew it wasn’t. He’d told her and Alistair he’d been happy for them. Genuinely he had been, though he’d remained bitter for quite some time.

Sitting behind his desk, reading endless reports of goings on in different regions. Cullen decided he had better get something to eat, before he completely forgot, again. Since taking himself off the Lyrium his body and his mind seem to conflict with his duties. The headaches, pain and night mares brought him back to that horrible day, that horrific tower. So eating and sleeping were things he’d forget on a regular basis. Heading towards the tavern, he welcomed the crisp winter afternoon air, he could see soldiers training. Skyhold had become a place many sought and few left. He’d get some training in with Rylen after lunch he told himself.

“Hi Commander” Fallissa the barmaid greeted him at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“I suppose some of that stew if you don’t mind.” He replied. Listening the hustle and bustle of the tavern behind him. Iron Bull sat in the back of the bar, with his Chargers of course, naturally surrounded by women. Varric for all his tales sat near the bard writing only maker knows what, he hoped nothing about him. Ellana sat near the side of the bar, cup of ale in her delicate hands, by herself.

“Fallissa I’ll be at the Inquisitors table if you don’t mind?’ Cullen spoke not waiting for a reply and heading towards Ellana.

“May I join you?” He’d asked stirring her from what seemed to be deep thought.

“Please” She smiled back at him. “What brings you here?”

“Decided I should get something to eat, you know before I forget, again” he smiled easily back at her. “Am I interrupting you?”

“Oh no, I just didn’t sleep well last night” She made up an excuse. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she’d been up most of the night, worried and hoping that he was honest with how he felt, no she wasn’t going to admit to that anytime soon. “How are you feeling today?” she asked him, finding it impossible to look anywhere but his eyes. He had amber, honey golden eyes, they showed compassion, care and devotion.

“I can endure. Small headache, Though I think i’ll train after lunch.” he spoke softly, as his lunch arrived.”I wanted to thank you for ensuring that our Templars have a training grounds. It means so much to them, and me.”

“Well, what can I say I just can’t say no to you” she’d said it before she could stop herself, chastising herself she’d let too long pass to attempt a correction.

“I shall keep that in mind Ellana” he answered a blush forming on his cheeks as he winked, a slight smirk forming, causing the scar on his lip to curve with it, the one she found irresistible. “Would you care to train?” he quipped back trying his best to tempt her.

“I suppose I’ll have to say yes, I mean with my not being able to say no and all” she replied coyly. “I’ll have to change into something more suitable. I’ll meet you in the training grounds.” She finished as she got up from her seat and adding. “Cullen” with a smile and a wink. He watched her as she left the tavern, her slender form elegant as she moved through the crowded tavern. A coy smile upon her full lips, her green eyes in stark contrast to her pale complexion, her raven hair dancing in it’s ponytail, the curls bouncing as she strode from his view.

Maker’s breath, this is going to kill me. His thoughts going to places one shouldn’t dare, not with the Herald Of Andraste. He wouldn’t be the only man with these thoughts, he knew she’d have her pick of suitors. Nothing he could do about that, well, mostly nothing. Still smirking he rose from the table carrying his now cold lunch with him to his office. Quickly he changed into a linen shirt and leather pants, he wouldn’t spar with her in full armor, there would be no way he’d risk harming her. Cullen for his part looked forward to this “training”, he could see how well she utilized a sword, not something many mages did but he worried for her safety and had insisted on her learning. Until now he’d never taken the chance to actually teach her, fearing being that close to her. What his mind, his heart least of all what his body would do being in that close of proximity. It wasn’t her magic that he avoided, it was her beauty, how she drew him in, with a smile, a nod and even sometimes dare he say it a wink. She’d seemingly played the strings of his heart far longer than he’d admit. His dreams, when not night mares would be enchanted with her, with situations he’d never see to fruition, at least not until recently. He’d kept watch on her and Solas, yes some would call it jealousy, he called it looking out for her safety.

Ellana’s heart skipped beats, had she really just done that? No turning back now she thought. She changed into some training clothes, light, easy to move in. Leather and linen that had the added effect of hugging her curves. She hadn’t planned it that way, but she liked it. She enjoyed that smoldering powerful look Cullen often gave her. A look that seemed to hide immense passion, power and devotion just under the careful veneer he wore to the world. She’d felt his gaze upon her many times in the war room, his attention being brought back to the task at hand by her other advisors, though he often blamed it on the lyrium withdrawal. She wondered if she had the same effect on him as he’d had on her, from the first time they’d met in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He’d been fighting wave after wave of demons, sweat dripping from his brow, his powerful stance never faltering. As he kept up with men half his age. She’d been startled when he spoke, and watched as he helped his men back to camp. In the war room later on, his smile upon greeting her seemed shy, seemed withheld. The scar on his upper lip bringing a smirk that made her heart flip flop. That was when she had to admit she was curious. She didn’t have much interaction with humans in her clan. Though this human fascinated her, brought thoughts to her that were not unwelcome, but certainly not proper. She gave herself one last look in the elongated mirror that stood by her desk, and headed to the training area.

When Cullen arrived at the training area, she’d not yet arrived so he busied himself with setting up the swords they’d use. That’s when he happen to glance up, she sauntered towards him, her sparring outfit hugging her in ways one shouldn’t even imaging. Her hair up in, her face flush. Her green eyes, intense as they seemed to read his very thoughts. With that gear, the enemy should just give up. His thoughts becoming more and more impossible to squash. “My Lady” he spoke softly as she approached him. Smiling he handed her a sword. His ungloved hand grazing hers. An innocent interaction, yet something that had a blazing effect on him, his thoughts, his heart and most of which is body. The startled look on her elven features served to tell him that she too had felt it, her breathing had quickend, her lips parted slightly as he took the hilt from him. “I hope this sword will meet your need” he stared into her impossibly green eyes, watched as her features soften and as a smile formed upon her lips. This is a battle I’ll happily lose. Again his thoughts seeking a destination he’d fought to keep it from for far too long. He’d spent countless nights awake, lying in his bed trying in vain to think of something else, someone else. To no avail, his mind always wandered back to her, back to an idea that until now seemed hopeless. If not for his training as a Templar she’d notice his breathing, ragged and shallow as he drew breath in, notice the rapid beating of his heart as it pounded. He’d learned to keep these things under control, or the view of being under control. He let his fingers linger upon hers, watched as her eyes grew darker, her pupils dilated, felt her hand shaking, if not for Rylen he’d have stayed like that locked within her eyes.

“Commander everything is ready for you” Rylen’s voice came taking him from her eyes.

“Yes captain, thank you” he chuckled his voice lacking the usual gruffness he kept for his men. He smiled turning and walking toward where his sword leaned against the oaken fencing. Somewhere in the distance he heard nobles gossiping, their voices drifting his way he could make out faintly what they’d said, it made him laugh.

“You know he’s in love with her?” One noble had observed “Look at the way he looks at her”

“I doubt that, my mother says she’s going to get him to marry one of us” another woman’s voice could be heard countering.

Not on your life. Cullen thought there were many things he’d do for the maker, for the Chantry and for the Inquisition. Remaining unhappy in a marriage was not one of them. He’d never planned on marriage, or love or a relationship. Though he’d spent most of his life in service to the Templars. Gripping his sword he readied his stance, more so in defense not offense he wanted her to make the offensive move. That way he could gauge just how ready she was to carry a sword, how well she could utilize it. That was his original plan, how it ended up, well could be a picture painted in one of Varric’s novels, not that he disliked it in the least.

Ellana gripped her sword planted her feet to brace herself, moving with speed only akin to a rogue she quickly and powerfully swung it towards him. Causing him to leap backwards, repositioning himself he again stood in defense. A sly smirk on his lips, “Again!” he commanded as if she were just a soldier. Swinging again her sword clanging with his as she pushed forward until they were face to face, mere centimeters apart, only two silverite swords in-between them. Both smiling as he quipped “You’ll have to do better than that my lady” voice low, almost a growl.

“Well Commander practice does make perfect” she’d quipped right back, a cocky smile on her face.

“Then we shall have to practice more often” he replied, pushing her back just enough to ready his stance once more. “Shall we?” he asked.

“We shall!” came her reply as she lunged forward again, with his free hand he easily grabbed her wrist, spinning her around until her back faced him, her body flush with his, as he let his sword drop. She could feel the raw power his body held just beneath the linen shirt, soaked with sweat. His scent mixing with the aroma of sparring. Her head spun though not in a bad way.

“It would seem this one is mine” his gruff whisper came in her ear “We shall have to try again sometime” he could hear her breathing come faster, smell her intoxicating perfume. Letting her go reluctantly she turned to face him, dropping her sword. For a moment they stood face to face, eyes locked on one another. Cullen found himself reaching up to her face to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers drift to the curve of her cheek, as his thumb caress her full parted lips. He could feel her lip quiver as he stepped closer to her, tilting her chin towards him. Placing a kiss tenderly, his tongue slipping in between her lips causing a breathless moan to escape her lungs. Wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush to his chest, he nibbled on her lower lip, as they lost all sense of where they were, lost in each other.

Hearing cheers of onlookers broke their moment her blushing as she stepped away. She’d never felt such passion, such desire in one kiss. Ellana felt dizzy, euphoric and longing for more of him more of his passion. She’d loved the way he held her, the complete safeness of his embrace. It was safe to say that one kiss had proven she had gotten over solas.

Stepping forward Cullen whispered to her “can I see you later tonight?” His breathing uneven now, the ability he’d had before to control his breathing lost in their embrace. He could still taste her, smell her and feel her quivering under his kiss and touch. He ached for more, more than he thought he could ever again.

“I would like that “ she replied.

“I’ll come by your quarters the back way after dinner, if that’s alright.” He asked.

“Sounds perfect, I can’t wait” her smile lighting his heart.

Chapter 8 Hearts fire Souls a blaze

The hours in-between crept by agonizingly slow for him. Though he’d spent the time with a silly grin on his face. His mind replaying their kiss, how naturally she fit into his arms. Normally he preferred to have his private life remain private, though he’d have to admit it felt good to hear some of the talk as he passed through areas of Skyhold. He did not envy the pain Solas must feel, but nor would he back down. Solas has hurt El, he’d let her grow fond of him, let her bare her soul and then he just walked away. That was something Cullen could not understand, he knew fear could make a man do many a things, this didn’t seem normal. He had to remind himself that the elven mage may have been hurting too. So in respect for Ellana, and perhaps due to his growing affection for her, Cullen chose to bite his tongue, to curb his anger for now.

Ellana spent her in-between time in her quarters trying to think of anything or anyone other than the Commander of her forces. She hadn’t realized just how strong he really had been, though his stance had been in defense only she marveled at how with relative ease he disarmed her and had her steadily held against him. She pondered just how his voice changed from soft spoken, to commanding to gruff laced with passionate desire it seemed. She wondered if all humans were this way, how a man's voice could affect her so deeply became an ever burning question. Next to Cullen she seemed so tiny, yet in his embrace she’d felt comforted and safer than anywhere else. Even without the lyrium Templars needed for their abilities he’d still proven to be a commanding force in battle, even more capable than many of the templars in the inquisition who were taking lyrium. Her thoughts drifted to his physic, he’d remained in peak physical condition even with going off lyrium. His broad chest rippled with cut muscles under his linen shirt. She’d enjoyed seeing him out of his armor, relaxed if you will, well as relaxed as the commander could get.

Cullen had chosen to wear a simple linen shirt and leather breeches tonight. He’d normally wear his armor but since he’d be going to her quarters via the backway he didn’t feel the need to wear it. Before heading towards where she would be waiting he spoke to Rylen, someone he knew he could trust without blabbing to the entirety of Thedas about what was said, not like it mattered much at this point he was pretty sure even the Empress of Orlais knew about what had been termed “the kiss” Still he wanted to keep this as private as he could. “Rylen, I’ll be otherwise engaged this evening, you’re in charge I’ll see you in the morning sometime” he gave the orders as Rylen saluted and sat down in the guard tower opposite Cullen’s office, over the top of the Gates of Skyhold.

Bringing a bottle of Ferelden wine tucked under his arm he headed towards the gardens, where there had been a door, that only few people held a key too. It led to the lowest level of the tower that housed the Inquisitor’s quarters. He’d insisted on this due to it’s being more defensible in case of attack. The stairs leading up led to a ladder that came up to where her bottom quarters door met the landing.

Knocking on her inner door he announced that it was in fact him”Ellana it’s me”

“Come in” she responded, her voice sounding nervous, making him for a second wonder if she were rethinking this, he needn’t bother, and his answer came when he saw her. She’d dressed in an elven robe, bright with colors. It’s carefully stitched leather sewn to perfectly shape her form. It hugged every curve of her frame. Her chestnut hair fell down her back as it curled and bounced. If it were even possible her eyes brilliantly green as she smiled at him.

“I. um I… “ he’d lost track of what he’d been saying. “Right I brought wine” he finally regained his thoughts, his mind wrapping around the vision that stood before him. She’d always been beautiful, but he’d never seen her with her hair down, in finery such as this, and her eyes seemed intent in their glowing nature. His mouth went dry, finding it hard to look away Cullen placed the bottle on her desk and leaned against for fear he may engulf her with kisses and if he did, maker knows he wouldn’t stop at this point. No he needed to take this slow, no matter how bad he wanted to leap in head first.

Ellana felt nervous as she stood opposite the commander, she could see that his armor hid much of his physic. His golden hair combed back, save for the unruly two curls that peeped at the top of his forehead. Where he usually appeared tired or worn out, his face looked rested and relaxed. His golden eyes not leaving her form for long at all.

“You look nice Cullen” she said softly getting two wine goblets from the shelves and handing them to him.” would you do the honors?” she smiled asking letting her fingers graze the top of his hands.

“It would be my pleasure” he grinned. “Might I say you are stunning tonight yourself” he spoke holding her gaze as he poured their wine. “I hadn’t seen you with your hair down, I love it, you should wear it like this more often” he wistfully said as he ran his finger tips through the loose strands of hair at his reach. He marveled at how soft and rich in color it was, he couldn’t get his mind around the knowledge that she’d dressed up for him.

“About this afternoon” she spoke taking a sip of the wine.”I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I know you wanted to keep this private.” she looked away not wanting to see his reaction. She wondered if that had been a one time thing, or could he actually care.

Setting his cup down he walked around to the other side of the desk, right next to her. Gently lifting her face by her chin, he gazed into her eyes and softly said “Don’t be sorry, I’m not, I don’t regret it at all” he trailed off as his fingertips drew a line along her lower jawline up to her ears ending up in her hair. He watched as she had to catch her breath, saw her eyes dilate and grow darker. His resolve falling as watching her lips as the parted to speak. He couldn’t resist any longer, Maker preserved me He thought as he let his lips connect with her, at first their interaction had been tender, and slow. When she circled her hands around his neck, intertwining her own fingers in his hair, letting her lips part as he let his own tongue slip inside. That had been his point of no return, he nibbled on her lower lip, breathing through his nose, not wanting to part this. His pace picked up as his desire only seemed to fan. He trailed kisses along her jaw to her earlobe, he nibbled on her ear, as she sighed and moved even closer to him. He found it hard to remain a gentleman, even a Templar had his limits, and Cullen was certain he’d just reached his, he felt he needed her closer to breathe, to live to exist. He couldn’t fathom how he’d made it this long without her, nor did he intend on finding out.

Guiding her so that her back pressed against the wall he kept up his pace of kissing her, exploring the depths of her mouth with his own, in ways until now he’d only dreamt about. Gently pressing her back into the stone wall he braced himself against it with his left hand, leaning down to nibble on her ear, trailing kisses down her neck, even letting a groan of his own out when she pulled him closer, hearing her breathing ragged and needy. His mind swam, his body acted on it’s own, as he began to grind his hips into her, letting her feel his need more than ever before. Enjoying the moans, and gasps she made as he did so, he finally let his his left hand fall to her waist, as he returned his attentions to her lips, swollen with affection.

He felt her walking them backwards, and at her mercy. Soon his knees hit the side of her bed, she broke their embrace long enough to make him sit in a reclining position as she climbed over him. Before she could sit fully down he sat up, grabbing her waist pulling her down, resuming their kissing, he could feel her grind into him, his hips bucked up towards her on their own volition. His grasp remaining firmly planted on her hips, trying desperately to regain some of his control from earlier, without succeeding. He watched in awe as her head fell back bracing herself on his shoulders she began a steady rhythm against him. Her moans growing in both sound and need, He traced the line of her elegant throat with his tongue, drawing out an even more delirious moan from her parted lips. He slid his hand up to the back of her robe, unfastening it with the ease of deft fingers, that had years of practice. Letting it fall from her shoulders his fingers traced a pattern on her upper back, realizing that she wore no breast band, only seemed to stoke the already raging fire within him. She tugged at his shirt, in a desperate attempt to rid him of the garment, happily he complied, he’d been with other women. Never really meaningful, this was new to him. She let her nails trace the lines of his muscles over his chest around to his back, for all he could explain, and think it felt like she’d been writing her name on his heart and within his soul.

With one hand on her hip and the other around her waist her rolled them over, so that he towered over her. She circled her legs around his waist as he gently pulled the remaining portion of the top of her robe down to her waist. Revealing her to him, her back arched as he ran his tongue over her collar bone, down to the valley between them. Grinding even harder into him as his lips circled a swollen nipple, holding her breath as teased it with his tongue, he smirked as he watched the effect this had on her, He enjoyed seeing her like this. For a brief moment he thought about quieting her, Then she said what had been his complete undoing, engulfing him completely within her. Breathlessly she whimpered against his bicep “Please Cullen I need you?” her eyes dark, her lips swollen and pink, her face flush as her hair cascaded behind her. He wanted to commit this to memory, every detail, as he resumed his frantic pace of kissing her.

[daihell]

Home Chapter 4

It’s been a long time since the former Inquisitor has been to Ostwick. It may have been his home, but he has very few fond memories of the place. He never thought he would have to return there, but it looks like he’ll have to one last time. At least Dorian will be at his side. He’ll need the support when he is forced to face his family and his past. AO3

Dorian hated the sea. Just looking at it left him feeling ill and now he somehow had to survive two days out on it. He boarded the ship with minimal grumbling for Elden’s sake and even managed to stay above deck for most of the day, talking to other passengers and just enjoying themselves. This whole thing made Dorian realize they hadn’t traveled with one another in so long and he was surprised how much he had missed this.

Well, everything but the queasiness of course. After losing his lunch over the side he felt it prudent to retire to their room early. Of course Elden insisted on accompanying him. It was a long miserable night and after spending most of it curled around a bucket the novelty of the trip had worn off and he didn’t exactly feel up to moving.

It must have been around noon now and he was still lying face down on the bed, blanket pulled up tightly around himself and he had no intention of getting up anytime soon. He felt like groaning at every sway of the ship and found himself continually checking to make sure the bucket was still on the floor within reach just in case. He couldn’t even bring himself to raise his head when he heard the door open. Not that it could have been anyone other than Elden.

“What are you doing back here so soon?” Dorian asked, voice partially muffled in the pillow.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Elden said unconvincingly.

“You were in to check on me less than an hour ago,” Dorian pointed out. While he appreciated everything Elden had done to make him comfortable, there wasn’t really anything else to be done except to wait it out. There was no need for Elden to continue hovering, watching Dorian sleep, when he could be doing literally anything else. “You should be above deck, I’m sure there’s a lovely view of the wretched waves or something.”

“I don’t really want to be alone right now,” Elden said and the utter exhaustion in his voice made Dorian finally roll over to look at him. He was so worn down, looking defeated and no doubt making himself sick with worry and Dorian wished he could do more to ease his concerns.

“Then at least go join that lovely elderly couple for a game of cards, or something,” Dorian said. “You shouldn’t have to spend the entire voyage locked away in a room that smells of vomit.”

Elden shook his head, looking so dejected, and Dorian sighed. He moved over, making room on the bed so Elden could climb in beside him.

“Very well,” Dorian said, wrapping his arms around him as Elden curled tightly against him. “But you are blocking my path to the bucket. Don’t blame me when I vomit on you.”

Elden made a noncommittal sound and honestly that worried Dorian more than anything. Normally he would at least humor Dorian. He rather wished he wasn’t spending the voyage so far incapacitated so he could look after Elden better, instead of the other way around as it was working out to be. At least they would be docking tomorrow and hopefully he would be more useful with solid ground under his feet.

Dorian was in an out of sleep for the rest of the day and into the night, but every time he came to, Elden was still there, still holding him tightly. Dorian did his best to comfort him when he could, kissing his forehead and telling him it would all be fine. Thankfully he only had to scramble over Elden once in the middle of the night to reach the bucket. He pushed the bucket away and stayed there, draped across Elden, wondering how there was even anything left in his stomach.

He felt Elden brush his fingers through his hair, his left forearm rubbing gentle circles on his back, and Dorian just melted into the soothing touch. Draped over Elden’s chest like this, he felt warm and wrapped up in his comforting embrace. Eventually he was able to drift off to sleep again.

-

Thankfully, once morning came, Dorian felt rested and well enough to risk moving. Perhaps the sea was calmer or something. Their small room was growing stifling and he needed to get some fresh air, even if it meant having to look out across the sea so they headed up to the deck, arm in arm so Elden could steady him. It was also a handy excuse to remain close and maintain some sort of contact. Even when they leaned against the railing, Elden held onto his arm and leaned against him gently. Thankfully not enough to throw him off balance.

“How are you doing?” Elden asked, interrupting the comfortable silence and glancing over at him.

“Fine, fine,” Dorian said, waving a hand as if to brush away his concern. “I am determined not to spend the entire trip bedridden, seasickness or no, even if you have to cart me around.”

That earned him a chuckle at least. Honestly, he was just glad Elden seemed to be feeling better as well. He seemed lighter, like he had come to some sort of peace with his current situation. Either that or he was just too exhausted to worry any longer. Both were possible for Elden. Either way, they still had time to prepare. Today they could relax, stay at an expensive inn with a soft bed that didn’t rock endlessly and perhaps actually enjoy themselves. They could worry about everything else tomorrow.

“I should probably tell you more about my family before we get there,” Elden said after a moment as they stared out across the horizon.

“It can wait,” Dorian said, giving his hand a squeeze, not wanting to ruin things after how poorly Elden had been feeling the day before.

“It’s fine, I’m all right,” Elden insisted. He was silent a moment longer, perhaps contemplating where to begin. “My father’s side of the family is from Starkhaven. You probably could have guessed that though.”

“You have inherited a bit of an accent,” Dorian said, chuckling.

“That’s about all I got from him I’m afraid. Politics have always been his priority and I could never keep up. He can talk himself out of anything, calm even the angriest of customers. I always admired him for that. My oldest sister, Cicilia; she was good at that sort of thing too. Father spent most of his time training her. He didn’t see much point in spending time with the rest of us.”

“I see,” Dorian said, unable to keep his disapproval out of his voice. “And where is your sister now?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t kept in touch with her. She’s nine years older than me so we were never really close. I imagine she’s traveling, dealing with the various branches of father’s company. Since my mother is from Ferelden, we have a lot of contacts there.”

“I’ve been curious about that, actually,” Dorian said. “How exactly did your parents meet?”

“Their marriage was an alliance of sorts, actually.” Elden said. “My mother’s side of the family are in trades as well. They’d barely met before that, but they seem happy enough together. She’s– well, she’s very Ferelden. She kept dogs and enjoys hunting and is very enthusiastic about the Grand Tourney. My brother Matheus– he’s five years older than I am. He was her favorite. When Dez and I showed talent with the sword, mother was pleased, but always wished we was more like him. I think he joined the military, but I don’t know.”

“I’m guessing the two of you weren’t close either?”

“Yeah,” Elden said quietly, staring down into the sea as it swirled against the boat. It seemed like there was more to that story, but he didn’t seem ready to elaborate, so Dorian held his tongue. After a moment he continued. “Then there’s Thalia, she’s two years older than me, and Dez of course.”

“I know Dez visited recently, but how is Thalia doing?” Dorian asked, hoping to push things in a happier direction. He was just glad Elden still had some family he was close to.

“She’s doing well,” he said. “She’s still helping her fellow mages adjust after the changes Leliana is making.”

“Perhaps we should visit her at some point,” Dorian said. “For this trip, though, at least it sounds like you’ll only have to deal with your parents, but I am starting to wish we’d dragged Dez along with us.” He always liked Dez. She was a bit serious, true, but it was obvious she cared for Elden. And he always enjoyed seeing them interact. For twins they were quite different.

Elden laughed at that. “I’m pretty sure there’d be some sort of fight if that happened. She’s never gotten along with mother.”

“All the more reason to have her around,” Dorian said, nudging him gently. “It’ll definitely keep things interesting at least.”

“That’s true.”

“So what’s the plan beyond parents and the Chantry? Any old haunts you’d care to take me to?”

“I’m afraid Ostwick isn’t the most interesting of places,” Elden said with a smile. “Especially not after Orlais or any number of cities we’ve visited.”

“No, but you did grow up here,” Dorian pointed out. “That makes things different. I seem to recall dragging you all around Minrathos not too long ago, this is your chance for revenge.”

“It’s a shame the Grand Tourney isn’t held this time of year. That would have been fun. I’m sure we can find something to do though.”