#shes a just little girl with an endless pit of anger in her. can you really blame her for having fun putting an old man

[snakesinsocks2005]

That One Specific kid (out of literal dozens) you maybe should've regretted murdering just a bit more

[romaevelizz]

Fruits

Aemond Targaryen x blk!cousin!reader

Sum: He wasn’t the same person she remembered how could he do that to her

warnings: death, cursing, child loss, angst, hurt comfort. Not proofread

p.2 of my little love

“You can’t just storm Dragon stone!” Aemond told her watching as his wife readied in her riding clothes. The dark fabrics coving her as her handmaidens tightend her clothes.

The princess had only been abed for two days she was in no condition to go hunt her father. By all means did Aemond himself not want Deamon Targaryen dead, but it couldn’t happen now. even he knew that. But he saw her eyes, the once kind eyes he craved admiration from, they were dark. They were dead, angry. His foot steps heavy as he walked up behind her him shooing the maids, his own hands holding her corset ties. His eye met here through the mirror, “I’m going with.” He spoke.

“I will not have my wife who’s still healing herself go and die because of her lack of mind.”

She only scoffed “Our daughter, our Unborn daughter is dead and all you can think about is me in the wrong state of mind? Right shame on me.” She spoke her words filled with venom.

Turning around she faced him his hands quickly held her shoulders “ Because you are here, you’re all I have left. Apologizes tis you finding selfish of me to not want you to die, they only women I’ll love the only women who’s looks at me like I’m not some endless burden or disappointment. You tis always been you that’s had faith in me.” He spoke his voice becoming shaken.

Her brows frowned under his touch they way he shakes softly. she was filled with rage and now it was staring to spill out on him, her husband. Her mouth opened slightly to say something but she didn’t. Her hand held his face, Aemond melting under her as she did. Her eyes meeting his, a million words could be said with the way they looked upon one another. He was grieving to but she had been blinded by her own, her own rage to even think to comfort him.

His head fell onto her shoulder a quiet sob leaving Aemonds lips as he held her still. “I’m sorry dear wife, I couldn’t protect you or our children, what kind of man..- what kind of Husband does that make of me. I’m so sorry my sweet girl..” The Old Valyrian spilling of his tongue as He weeped quietly into her shoulder.

Her hand trembled has the tangled in his hair holding his close as he consumed her in his arms her soft hushes soothing him gently, “Tis not your fault..”

She pulled his face back her handholding him carefully “But this is something I can only do, they see you or Vhagar you’ll be killed immediately. My father is a week man tis why those men did a job he couldn’t stomach. My father is deemed to have no fears but it’s me, well my mother. And if there’s something he’s always reminded me that I’m just as her.” The Princess spoke holding her husbands face.

He wouldn’t kill her.

He couldn’t kill her.. he was a coward..

Climbing upon cannibal the Large dragon letting out a hyena like giggle, he knew what is to come, he’d be eating today. His menacing giggles caused his whole body to shutter. He could feel her grief her anger. He knew what he was to do. But he’d only do if told perhaps he’d be eating more than once today. Cannibal knew they were going out to kill, for the little princess was now dead, he could feel Y/ns heart break that night the pain she went through, mercy to the pit keepers. The princess let her hand touch his dark scales taking a deep breath “Shall the gods have pitty on them my sweet boy, but not even the gods can save Deamon Targaryen.” She finished patting him letting him know to take off.

His wings thumped like thunder as they enters they skies. Y/ns mind becoming clouded with memories as she closed her eyes, the birth of her child. How her daughter would cling on to Aemond the small child sharing the Targaryen features but her skin dark as hers. How her small giggles echoed through the halls as she played with her cousins, the throaty laughes as Her and Aemond kissed on her. How gentle both their dragons where with the little princess, Cannibal nugging her causing her to fall back only for the lady of dragons herself to grumble at the old man. But none the less did she laugh always a bright bright girl. A girls who light was cut to soon form this world. Her eyes slowly opened, Cannibal glancing back at her his green eyes telling her that this will be done. 

She wanted her arrival to be known as by gods it was, Cannibals scream shaking the whole castle.

“The Hell was that?” Jace spoke his eyes wide.

Rhaenyras eyes looked up lazily at her son but quickly shifted to her husband. “She’s here.”

“Who’s here” Baela spoke looking up at her.

“Your sister.” Rhaenys spook smiling as her granddaughter.

Rhaenyra knew what had happen. Only her, her husband didn’t know that he had killed his granddaughter but soon he will. She knew Y/n was here to kill him and she’d had enough to say to try to persuade her not to but never did she think she wouldn’t to stop her. “Let her in with a warm welcome.” Perhaps she’d make an example.

The smile that lingers on Daemon’s face would fall immediately as he went to greet his eldest daughter, her face tierd and dark. And as soon as she pulled that blade. The guards will go to stop her only for Rhaenyra to tell them to stop. “Angle what is the meaning of this.” Deamon said as she held the dagger to his throat.

“Those men you sent.” She said.

Daemon eyes widened, no.

“Men he sent Grandaughter what are you talking about?” Rhaenys spoke trying to pray the life away fro. daemons neck.

“The men he sent to kill my daughter. A son for a son, but there was no son so a daughter shall do they said just as they slit her throat open.” Y/n said her words breaking as she dug the dagger deeper into Deamons throat.

Rhaenys, no everyone went quiet. The silence in the room only the soft cried of the princess could be heard. Soon as scream of a dragon, no just one Caraxes, the poor thing being torn apart by Cannibal shame the loss of a dragon had to be noticed but shame on her to leave something he loved so dearly something so devoted to him alive.

Rhaenyra spoke up quickly “There’s no need to have your beast feed on the dragons!”

“He’ll eat his fill, besides my grandmothers and Sisters dragons any dragon in the pit that challenges him will be devoured if he wishes. Tis rude not to feast and a reunion,no your grace?” The princess said cutting Rhaenyra off.

The quick voices of the boys and guards as they told there other to just kill her. That there is more of them than her. “The Devil has entered your house my queen yet you let her hunt and tarnish is as she’s her she’s unwelcome.” Ser Erryk spoke up.

“What your tongue” Daemon quick to shot the guard down. Even now in this moment he seeks to protect his daughter, the same one that holds a knife to his throat.

A fast hit to the face caused the Prince to fall down. Daemon held his face never lifting it to look her in the eye “be great full they’re my sisters, or I’d take a daughter from you, secretly I hope they killed me just to watch a movie over my body as your wife told you what you did. Because your a coward, who kills babes.” She spoke in a hushed tone the floors of the castle shaking could be fell under their feet cannibals eating he was getting his fill, even through the quiet halls of the DragonStone castle they could hear his giggles the menacing giggles from Cannibal as he feasted on Caraxes.

“I’m sorry my Angel, kill me.” He spoke the undertone of begging could be herd.

No he didn’t get to beg to be killed. She grit her teeth as she clenched her fist, falling to her father she hit him over and over. Just as he taught her putting every punch into her body. “You killed her and yet you beg of me to kill you, as I stood there dagger to my face begging for her daughters life!” She screamed. Now both her hand ps came of her head fist closed as the continued, blood from her father now on her hands. The muffled screams around her being blurred by her own “How dare you!”

“Not only did you take My living child from me but my unborn!” She cried, Daemonds blood now splattering on her face, her cheats heavy. Her body would soon give out on her.

Her chest raising and lowering quickly as she grabbed his collar pulling him up slamming his body back into the stone under him “How fucking dare you,” she cried. she couldn’t hear what her father was saying nothing but plebes of how sorry he was that it want ment to turn out like this. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t want to he hoped he’d kill her. He knew she wasn’t listing to his pleas of forgiveness becaus it was damming of him to think that she ever could.

But oh his sweet girl, his first born how he’s hurt her. he’s never dream of it yet he did how could he. how dare he make her cry like this.

“Your pathetic, truly and pathetic boy.” She hissed her face close to her fathers bloody one. He only muttered unheard to her.

“Speak up you son ova bitch!” She screamed.

“I know my sweet Angel,” he coughed.

She should’ve slit this throat right. But that’s just as he wanted.

“I hope the image of my mother in me hunts you, I hope she haunts you and well as your granddaughter, I hope they both hate you. Gods know mother would.” She whispered her words dark and full of hate.

Daemon only nodded, once more she slammed his head into the stone under him before getting up.

Y/n didn’t look up but she felt her grandmothers hands offering g a comforting touch she didn’t deny “I spared your husband, I trust you’ll do the same only the death of my daughter was no accident as Lucerys death was. For dragons got out of hand and Shame on my husband for letting his anger get the best of him, but your sons continued and continued to push, and dragons we thought of challenged against one another when your sons blew fire into Vhagrs face. Be thank full I don’t take Aegons life as a life of my unborn was takes as well.” She spoke t words Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra holding her son close to her.

Y/n looked up as her their eyes locking “ My the Gods be with you all in this war, My Queen.”

Looking away she kissed her grandmothers face moving past to her sisters, her bloody hand holding there faces and she kissed their foreheads “ I love you, you know how to get to me.” She whispered to the twins.

With that she lefts, and lucky them Cannibal only ate Caraxes. Cannibal looked up his large tail wagging like a dog as she walked in the devilish giggles as he stood up.

“Hmmm did you eat well pretty boy? Yes? Good now we must return to my husband, and your old lady, let’s go.”

“My lady are you all right? You’re covered in blood..” One of the maidens spoke her voice nervous.

She hummed “Ready me a bath, let my husband know I’m home and I seek his presents.” She spoke taking of her gloves her voice stale.

With a quick nod the did just that, soon she’d meet her two guards “Princess. Did you.”

“No, be begged to be killed so I kept him alive to let this hunt him forever, not even in death will he escaped this curse.” She spoke continuing to walk the two men following behind her and she loosened her clothes.

“You plan do undress in the halls m’ lady.” Maliki asks a small chuckle behind his words.

“Have some respect.” Khalil hit him.

The twins bickering always brought a smile to her face. “Stand by let Aemond in when he arrives.” She spoke softly entering her bed chambers.

“Yes princess.”

She looked at herself in the mirror the blood that covered her hands and face was gross, pealing the leather of her riding clothes of was uncomfortable to say the least she was exhausted. Allshe wanted us to touch of her husband, his large gentle hands holding her body close. That’s all she asked for. “ my lady your crying..” a handmaiden spoke gently.

“Ah tis nothing Marcie..” she said, the sound of her doors opening caused her to wipe your tears quickly her body turning towards the door.

“It’s prince Aemond my Princess.”

“Your all dismissed,” Aemonds eyes watched her shoo her ladies away.

He didn’t say anything not with words any how. His gaze offered a gentle look to her ”I didn’t,” Aemonds brows frowned “ahh! no don’t look at me with pitty.” She hissed.

“I didn’t kill him because he asked me to kill him, I’m making him love with this pain…” she said looking at her husband ���you should’ve seen how he weeped..”

Aemond nodded “turn.” She did as told.

Aemond was gentle as he took her clothes off “You did good my dear.” He mumbled lips kissing her warm skin. His hands grazing her body.

“Join me” she whispered turning. Her body bare as she presented herself to him. Maybe it was the blood on her body that mad him so… eager to join her. His body swiftly moving behind her as her pulled her against him.

Aemonds lips kissed on her shoulders his hands touching her as they pleased, them holding her breast gently holding them with care as she hummed small moans. One would think he was trying to breed her again, no not he just wanted to cherish his sweet girl, to touch her as she liked. Selfish to think of was for his pleasure, his hands massaged out her aching body. “Let me take care of you.”

His arms wrapped around her tightly pulling her against him he could feel her body shutter against him and she started to cry. He started to cry as well “All is done…”

“We have a war to finish, May tho gods be in our favor dear husband.”

“Well will start again,but non shall be replaced.” She finished.

[elpida]

She was going to break, she didn't know how to handle this, how was she meant to ever get over the fact someone she thought she could be with, had killed Ben? That protective big Brother that'd always made her feel safe and loved, that stuck by her through every silly choice, every heartbreak, every life event. He'd killed him and there was no reason, no anything that she could hear right now. He knew what he did and carried it with her but.. Eden had carried grief with her every day since. She had cradled his body, she had pleaded.. and she had wanted revenge on the man that'd done it, so many endless nights.

How could it be him? How could it be the man that'd stepped in and protected her when he didn't have to? How could he had ever done something so cruel? The minute he stepped foot out the door she slammed it and ran for the nearest sink because she couldn't, she knew she was going to throw up and she did. She threw up at the disgust, the thought, all of it and lowered down to her knee's on her bathroom floor to cry her heart out. She sat on the bathroom floor until the early hours of the morning, until her throat burned and her eyes swollen from how hard she cried and even then she dragged herself to work.. she didn't open the Bakery all week, until her friend who helped on a weekend showed up and pulled her from her pit of sadness. Shake some life into her, get her back in the right gear and make sure that she ate. She was terrible for forgetting to eat.. she'd forgotten when she grieved the worst, she'd forget for being busy and now she was forgetting down to a broken heart.

Little time skip

Eden had told herself that Xander was dead to her, she truly had. She had done everything to forget about him, but in the quiet moments those following weeks.. she found herself checking her phone, wondering if he was waiting to see a text or a call from her pop up too. If he'd forgotten the girl who's heart he'd broken and the same girl, who couldn't forget him. "Eden?" her employee spoke softly. "You've been quiet for weeks is.. everything okay? Just I can't help but notice that man doesn't come by anymore and you.. do you want to talk about it?" they asked her and closed the door. It as the end of the day and Eden flashed a sheepish smile as she continued to tidy, wiping surfaces. "Do you uh.. I know it's a silly question but do you think people can make mistakes that are, absolutely huge and.. genuinely regret them? How would you tell they regret it?" she sighed heavily and her friend, her employee, moved to pull an arm around Eden and bring her in for a quick hug. "You'd know.. you'd be able to tell by their eyes, by if they'd beg for your forgiveness, if they seem horrified with themselves but I think you would know if whatever he did is something he truly regrets.. thing is, you won't know if you don't see it with your own eyes huh?"

She was right, how would she even know if he had spent enough weeks burdened by her hatred, what if he could make it right now? What if he could earn her trust again?.. What if he could mend that pain in her heart? Eden knew that above anything, Ben wouldn't want her to squander her own happiness over something that wasn't going to be changed by her anger or hate, he'd never want her to be unhappy.. and he'd never want her to turn hateful on his behalf. What he'd have liked was for her to find a man like Xander, a man that'd protected her, that'd truly put her first when he barely knew her. He'd want her to be with someone that'd never let her down again, that'd never betray her, that'd love her as she deserved to be loved, fiercely, passionately, sweetly. "I'll lock up, go see him." she owed her friend for this.

She walked to his home, she remembered the way.. and then spent at least an hour outside, in the rain, pacing. What was she meant to say when he opened the door? If he opened the door, he might not want to see her either.. and if he didn't well, she'd not know what to do but at least she would know where she stood. Eden's knuckles rasped against the door a few times and she waited, with her heart thudding against her chest. She wasn't angry, not anymore.. she might always be hurt, but she was not angry like she had been that day.

When the door opened she finally took a breath and made her shoulders lower from their tension. It was hard to see him, to look at him but she was.. and yes she was upset but until they figured this out she would be. "I want to know if he suffered." she came out with it, the one thing that'd bothered her all this time. "He was dead when I got to him, when I found him so.. so did he suffer? Was it— Xander was quick for him? Would he have been in a lot of pain?" her lip already quivered trying to ask the hard questions. "You don't want to answer but I need to know.. I need to know so I can sleep at night because I've wanted to know since the day I lost him and you owe me that.. you owe me that much. You took him so— so you answer the hard stuff, okay?" she tried to be assetive and then, in that said staring, another question came, raindrops dripping along her pale face.

"Are you sorry?"

Before Xander started working on his own, he had worked for someone else, for Elijah. He respected the man a lot and he could never disappoint him, until he realised that he was doing pretty much the same thing as he did back in the army. Alexander was just following orders, he couldn't make decisions on his own and if he did... the one with the bullet across his chest or head would've been him. Sadly, he was almost certain this job had happened just after he had left Elijah so he couldn't blame that man. He only had to blame himself.

"I'm so sorry, Eden," he didn't know what else to say and he didn't want to repeat the words, he didn't want to think about what he did. About the damage he had caused, it made him wonder the possible damage he may have caused others during that time.

He looked up at her when she got up and attempted to catch the album when it fell but failed. Picking it up, he gently placed it on the table. However, the sight of Eden walking away was breaking his heart, the anger... the fear in her voice. Xander stood up and tried to walk to her but he knew it wouldn't help, he was making her scared of him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." And he refused to answer her question about how many he had killed. He knew she didn't want to know. He didn't want her to carry that with her.

Then she was hitting him, and he didn't flinch nor moved an inch. Hell, if she happened to have a gun and shot him right there, he wouldn't even blame her. He knew he deserved it. "Eden, please... let me..." he couldn't think of anything. "Please, don't push me away, I know what I did and I carry it with me, please..." But her eyes said everything. She didn't want him there. He hadn't seen her furious before and God, did he hate it. It was all his fault.

Sighing, he took his phone and did as he was told, "if you need anything... you have my number and address..." Xander said although his voice sounded defeated as he exited her home and went to his car, mentally cursing at himself. He lost her, he was certain he lost her.

[spideyanakin]

night of worry (p.a)

summary - you don't seem to get along with paul, not until your life is on the line

requested by - anon // I’ve gone down a Dune and Paul Atreides spiral and am dying to read more so here’s an idea ;). Paul and oc or y/n are suppose to get married for political convenience, but Paul is indifferent/dislikes her at first. Then someone attempts to assassinate her in her sleep and Paul saves her, and then she says “please don’t leave me” or something like that. I LIVE for angst and hurt/comfort

mixed wit request 2 by @minalx // Can you do overprotective Paul

back to main masterlist

paul masterlist

You didn't want to marry Paul. It was a stupid thing really. A tone of girls seemed to be very happy with arranged marriages, and even more would have loved to be paired with the handsome heir of the Atreides house, the one taking over the great spice market.

But the idea made you sick to your stomach.

You always had wanted to marry for love, but it seemed that fate had it otherwise.

You stepped onto the large balcony that gave out to the sea. Sighing as you took in the beautiful scenery you would probably never see again. You'd miss Caladan.

You took in the fresh winds that lightly blew on your face and the sound of the ocean, wondering if you would be able to survive in the scorching deserts. Sadness forming in the pit of your stomach.

'If you didn't have to marry him, then you could stay here.' was all that your mind could tell you.

It was like a broken disc on repeat.

"It's going to be alright." A voice broke your peace, making you jump slightly. You turned around to face Jessica's reassuring face, her smile bringing you some sense of comfort in that darkness you felt yourself sink through.

"Paul will warm up to you." She smiled. "And I'm sure Arrakis will be more welcoming than you make yourself think it will be." She placed a hand on your shoulder and you muttered a simple 'thanks', keeping your gaze fixed on the endless ocean.

~

"I've heard that you know a lot about Arrakis already." You held your scarf tighter around your shoulders as the wind blew a little harder over the cliffs of Caladan. Turning your stare to Paul, you hoped he'd finally answer something more than 'yes', 'hmm', or other than two to three words.

"Yes." You wanted to facepalm at his answer. If he was as smart as everyone said he was, he sure didn't show it. He seemed to act like a grumpy teenager which everyone has told you he wasn't.

"Well, that's good." You desperately tried to make this work, but he was making it too hard. "Is there anything I should know before we go?" You looked at him and saw his gaze fixed to the floor as you continued walking.

"You'll be fine." was all he replied before putting his hands in his pockets and looking towards the end of the pathway which led down towards a beach.

If Jessica had intended this walk to make the two of you closer, then her idea was completely failing...

You walked in silence until you finally arrived in front of the water. You could see some annoyance in Paul's stance, and it started to make your blood boil. If you had to get married to this guy, then you could at least try to be friends.

"Could you stop ignoring me for 5 seconds?" You turned to face him and Paul's eyes opened wide in surprise as if he was caught in the middle of something.

"I-" he tried to argue but the words died in his mouth.

"If this is going to work out we have to at least try to be friends. We can't spend the rest of our lives hating each other. It will just make it harder for the both of us" You continued, your tone echoing the anger that was stuck inside you since you arrived.

"Do you think this is easy on me?" He finally replied, to your surprise matching your tone. "I have to move away from my home planet, get married to a stranger and now people are saying I might be the Kwisatz Haderach. "

"Shortening of the way." You whispered, completely forgetting the point you wanted to make. It suddenly all made sense. The whispers around him, the Bene Gesserit that were always around, the fuss about Paul going to Arrakis. "You must be terrified about going to Arrakis- If you could be their Messiah-" Your anger died down, you almost understood what he was going through.

"I don't want to talk about it." His tone was a little harsh, making you take a step back.

"I'm your ally in this Paul." All compassion had left your voice again and you suddenly regretted being nice in your previous sentence. "If you don't understand this then this marriage will be a catastrophe."

"It already is! You don't want to marry me and I don't want to marry you! Don't make this harder than it already is!" You felt a bitter taste in your mouth as his words entered your ears.

"Making it harder?" You blinked in disbelief. "Paul you're the one who is making this harder! All I'm trying to do is make this easier for us by at least being friends."

"I didn't want this!" He screamed back. "I don't need someone else trying to fix things and telling me what to do. The Bene Gesserit are already trying to make me their puppet - I don't need someone else who pretends to help me."

"You think no one is trying to control me either? You think that your life is so bad? Well, try being forced to leave your family for political convenience. I didn't need to go to Arrakis - but because of our marriage, I have to. All you're doing is thinking of yourself right now, Paul. What about what I feel? You think I want to leave Caladan? You think I want to be stuck on a desert planet with you? Well no. But do I have a choice? No." You felt the tears rising and quickly wiped them away before he could see. You looked into his eyes one more time before storming out and walking as fast as you could towards the castle.

Paul suddenly felt awful. 'She speaks the truth' he thought. (see what I did there, stolen right from the book) He knew your words were true.

He stayed baffled for a few seconds. He was so caught up in his own feelings that he hadn't even thought of what you could be feeling. Instantly he regretted raising his voice at you. Instantly he regretted being mean to you.

~

A week had passed and the tension hadn't dissipated. No matter how many times Paul had tried to apologize, you gave him the cold shoulder.

It wasn't until the two of you found each other alone for diner that Paul had a chance to really speak to you.

"I'm sorry." His voice echoed to your ears. You kept your stare to your food, not having the courage to lift your eyes to his. "You were right, I was selfish. I didn't think it would be hard on you too." He muttered. "All I saw was someone probably happy to marry the heir of the Atreides house." He knew his old thoughts were stupid, but he also hadn't realized it until your fight on the beach. "I thought you'd probably be happy to marry me, and it just made me feel as trapped as you. I had refused to even acknowledge your presence. I didn't realize it was hard on you too. I was stupid and you were right."

Once you finally dared to look at him, you could see that his expression was riddled with shame. "I accept your apology." You said after a minute of silence.

A breath that had probably been stuck in Paul all week was finally released, a smile almost appearing on his traits.

"But that doesn't mean I'm ready to be your friend." The smile fully disappeared and he nodded - knowing he had seriously messed up. "I tried to open myself to you, and you rejected me. So now It's my turn to be cold." There was no joke in your tone, only hurt and light anger.

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to do sleep." You nodded, standing up and making your way to your quarters, the hurt slightly disappearing but the pinch in your heart ghosting you.

Paul was more hurt by your reply than he thought he would be. For some reason, it had been like a tiny dagger that he couldn't pull out.

After finishing his lonely diner, he went back to his room trying to figure out all the possible ways he could mend things with you.

Gifts? He didn't even know what you liked.

Taking a walk? 'Yeah like that went well the last time'

Bringing you to see your family before you left? He didn't even know if you were from Caladan...

That's when he realized you had been right. If this marriage was going to work, you'd have to learn about each other, be friends. And Paul had messed it all up.

He slumped on his bed, the wheels in his brain running at high speed. After minutes of beating himself up, he was so tired that he decided to tune it out, meditating instead of tiring himself more than he already was.

And that's when he heard it.

Footsteps.

It was too late for anyone to be roaming the palace, and the guards were asked never to leave their posts. Plus, everyone but the guards were sleeping at this hour. This wasn't normal.

He continued listening, thinking back to his training. The footsteps were too heavy to be a servant or his mother, or a Bene Gesserit or even any of his guards.

Whoever it was, they would be carrying something heavy. Really heavy.

That's when he realized. Weapons were heavy - they could be harmed.

Paul jumped out of bed and grabbed the first weapon that he could find. It was a short blade with a thick handle, one that his father had given him on his last birthday.

He carefully slipped out of his room, following the noise of the heavy footsteps. Once he turned a corner that's when he saw it. It was an assassin.

All dressed in black, weapons everywhere on his back, and a sharp dagger in his hand.

'Well he isn't really good at doing his job' Paul thought.

That's when he realized all the guards had disappeared.

'Well maybe a little good'

He carefully watched him from the shadows, and Paul's blood drained from his face when he realized where he was heading.

Right to your room.

Panic rose in him when he realized he was facing a trained assassin with only one small dagger. Badly trained in stealth, but still an assassin.

The second the man opened the door to your room, Paul rushed after him. Staying near the door frame, he thanked life for not being spotted. The element of surprise was his ally, he had to use it wisely.

He watched in horror as the assassin placed a hand on your mouth. You suddenly woke up and it took a second to realize what was happening. You were too shocked to scream or even more, all words dying before it reached your mouth. He raised the dagger towards you, paralyzed with fear you braced yourself for the attack.

But instead of meeting the bad end of his knife, the man dropped to the floor. Paul stood behind him, the hilt of his dagger still up in the air.

"Paul-" You whispered as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"You ok?" He dropped his weapon and kneeled to your side, scanning you for any potential injury. You nodded, fear staining your eyes.

"GUARD!" Paul screamed but no one seem to answer. "Where are they?" He wondered at loud before looking back at your terrified face.

"That man just tried to kill me..." You whispered, disbelief written all over your face. "...and you just saved me." You met Paul's gaze, your heart skipping a beat when you did, heat radiating from your cheeks when you realized his hand was on your shoulder.

"You sure you're not hurt?" He asked again, his tone almost reassuring. You nodded again. "Let's go before he wakes up." Paul handed you his hand and you grabbed it, not wasting a second to leave.

That's when you were met with a herd of rushing guards.

"What happened? Are you alright!?" The leading guard replied and Paul dropped your hand. You felt cold without his touch, but the way the expression on his face changed to anger when he came face to face with the guard brought warmth to your heart.

"No. An assassin just tried to kill my fiancé, where were you all?" The word 'Fiancé' made your cheeks turn red and your heartbeat so loud you could hear it in your ears.

All the guards stayed baffled, every answer dying in the back of their throats.

"The assassin is knocked out and locked in her room. I believe you can finally do your job and take care of him" Paul's voice had no joke in it, and a shiver tumbled down your spine. Did Paul truly care about you that much?

All the guards awkwardly shuffled on their spot and all left towards your room. You watched as they disappeared down the hallway in an unorganized rush.

Suddenly it hit you. You couldn't put a word on what did, but an overwhelming feeling came buzzing in. The near-death experience, mixed with the lack of sleep and the fact that Paul had saved your life was too much. Before you could even understand, a sob escaped your lips and you dropped into Paul's chest. His arms directly wrapped around you.

"Hey, It's alright." He rubbed circled behind your back and rested his chin on the crown of your head. "He can't hurt you." He whispered. "I'm right here."

You stayed like this for a few other quiet moments, until the uncontrollably spilling of tears died down.

You pushed yourself away from his embrace and looked up to him.

"Thank you." You mumbled and Paul felt his hand rise up to cup your cheek and wipe some stray tears away.

"It's been taken care of" A guard came back, making the two of you push away from each other in an awkward stance. "Your safe now."

"Alright thank you," Paul replied before dismissing them.

You looked back towards the end of the hallway, suddenly getting lost in thoughts. The last thing you wanted was to go back to your room and be alone in the dark of night.

Paul had seemed to read your mind and stayed planted next to you - waiting for you to say something.

"Paul?"

"Yes?"

"Can I stay with you? I don't want to be alone right now." You clenched the side of your nightgown with your fist at the mere thought of being alone.

A blush crept on his cheeks before he managed to clear his throat "Of course. You can stay in my room." You nodded as a thanks, a blush forming of your own.

Paul intertwined your hand with his before leading you to his room.

Maybe this wedding wouldn't be so bad...

[kidney9-9]

Honey, I Shrunk You! - Part 3

Hi hope you enjoy this part! A bit more of Severus is uncovered and there is a small conflict. Thank you for reading :) You can find my main masterlist in my profile, and this story's masterlist is under the Harry Potter link. You can find a few more characters I wrote for in there and requests are open! The next update will be the end of the story :) Thank you again to anon for sending the requests in

Severus Snape x wife!Reader [Established Relationship] Warnings: Injury, vague details of sickness, visit to the doctor's, mental health illness is described Word Count: 4.8k

Severus was treading on thin ice with himself. He only barely recognized it when he caught himself ignoring his own basic needs. He feared he would fall back into a position like this, to become caught up with a situation where he forgets himself. This has happened before – back when he was a teenager.

It stung to think about it all again while he was washing the dirty dishes from last night. You were still asleep, on that pillow, thankfully, so you didn’t see him this way. He hated when people saw him in pain, especially those that he cares about.

As a teenager, he allowed himself to fall into a pit of endless emotions. Whether the emotions were good or not, he still did it. He allowed himself to fall in love with another who didn’t return the same love he did. She only returned a platonic feeling of love, something that hurt to think about even now. As a love-struck boy, he did everything he could to see her happy, because in return, it would make him happy as well, ecstatic even.

And when it was so clear she would never return the same type of love, he still pinned after her. And he put himself through the worst. Emotions bottle up easily for him, and he lets it eat his insides because he didn’t want anyone to see. He ignored his needs in real life, and allowed his feelings of love, anger, fear, and even sadness to control his actions.

He didn’t blame the girl at all, especially now. He understood why it happened to him, but it hurt to see himself falling into a similar pattern that pushed him to his edge for years.

He had to stop it quickly, before he lost himself again.

It wasn’t your fault that he was starting to fall into this mess again. It was only his fault, and he realized that maybe both of you needed a transformation. You needed to transform back into your normal body, while he needed to transform his mind into a healthier place and habit.

He let himself cry today; a feeling that would help slowly let him release his emotions instead of eating up in his mind. It helped just a little, and in a way made him feel a bit brighter about the situation. He was done with the dishes a few minutes later.

You stood up on the pillow, stretching your body and then yawning loudly. You glanced down with a sigh, a bad feeling settling into your stomach as you felt this strange sense of normalcy hit you. This wasn’t normal – this was chaos and it twisted you down into a doll. And your ankle hurt even more! You didn’t put any pressure on it, and you carefully lifted it up to look at it closely. It looked worse than before, and you swore to yourself quietly.

“Severus, dear?” You called out, but he couldn’t hear you from the other room.

You hummed to yourself, feeling a bit helpless. Damn this body, you swore in your mind. Even though there are some pros to it… it was still a nuisance. You decided if he couldn’t hear you, then you must get down by yourself. And then you walked carefully to the edge of the bed and looked down and nearly fainted.

Why did you two decide to buy such a huge bed frame, that was so high up? You remember Severus had a similar issue as well when you two first bought it, because he had pulled a muscle the day prior and couldn’t get up and down from the bed without assistance. You were kind of in his place now, but you were miniature, and your ankle was throbbing.

You almost laughed thinking about how you used to be taller than him! How strange life has played out. It seemed like it should be a cruel joke, but it wasn’t really, at least to you. It was just an odd situation that you hoped to get out of soon.

“How in the world do I get down?” You questioned yourself, setting your hands on your hips. You scrunched your face up as you thought, looking around on the bed. You thought that maybe you could jump over to the bedside table, but that was too dangerous. You weren’t sure if you’d make that leap, especially because your ankle was in pain.

Then you thought of maybe pushing the pillow off the bed and just jumping off and landing on it. No, that’s also too dangerous. Even though the pillow is very comfortable and soft, you weren’t sure it would feel like that after jumping from the top of the bed to the floor.

And then finally, the perfect idea hit you! You could tie yourself to one side of a bed sheet and then push yourself down, kind of like climbing down during practice rock-climbing. It would be very easy, at least that’s what you thought it would be like.

It took twenty minutes to tie a knot around your body – and it still wasn’t very secure, but you were too stubborn to take more time and fix it.

Then, you began your descent.

It was pretty fast, and you were extremely surprised. It was so much fun, kind of like going down a roller coaster drop! Except you were holding a part of the bed sheet and hoping that you wouldn’t fall off. You wished you did push a pillow on the ground so you could at least have it as a fail safe, but you didn’t do that.

“Whew,” You breathed out, dropping to the floor safely. That was an unexpected journey, but you kind of enjoyed it. You untied yourself and started walking to the door, groaning a bit as you realized how much more you’d have to walk now. It wasn’t that much, but it was still annoying to deal with.

“Severus!” You called out again as you walked out the door of the bedroom, still no reply. You heard the kettle ringing though, so you knew he was in the kitchen. You walked slowly, taking in your view from this perspective. It was kind of a lovely thing to see, you noticed all the little bits of your home that you normally wouldn’t have noticed at all.

You chuckled when you saw that little scratch on the floor, reminded of when you scared Severus for a prank, and he dropped a huge box and jumped in shock. It left a scratch there and standing on top of it was so odd because you remembered what it looked like from high above too.

As you walked to the kitchen, it seemed like you were in an amusement park almost, filled with things you see every day. The appliances all looked gigantic to you now and it was oddly funny.

“Severus?” You spoke up one last time, walking into the kitchen. He was in deep thought, leaning against the counter near the kettle, with a book in his hands. You could tell he wasn’t reading because his eyes were focused up at the window instead.

“Honey!” He gasped, glancing to you. His face turned a deep red as he looked over your figure in worry, “How did you get all the way here without help? That’s dangerous.” It made you laugh awkwardly, not wanting to tell him how you could’ve hurt yourself badly with the bed sheet and the floor.

“All is well, no need to fuss.” You told him, shaking your head. You didn’t tell him about your ankle, but he looked at it anyway. He bent down and cupped his hands together after setting the book aside to let you sit in his hands like last night. You’ve started to like this feeling of sitting in his hands and you’ve started to notice the small details on them too.

“Still, you must be careful.” He lectured, clearing his throat slightly. As he brought you up to his level, you spotted the breakfast he made you both. It was toast with some jam on the side, and he asked if you’d like some egg as well. You shook your head politely.

“Uh, not to be overly sharing or anything but…” You trailed off, gulping in confusion as you realized something about your body. You were still full of the food yesterday and you were sure you ate a lot – but for some reason you haven’t felt the need of anything else at all. No human needs, and it terrified you instantly as you realized it.

“What?” He questioned, setting you onto the counter. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and he seemed to be holding his breath a little because of his worry.

“I haven’t needed to do any bodily functions… And I’m pretty sure I can’t eat at all right now. Just the thought makes me feel icky. Like I shouldn’t have even eaten last night too.” You worded it out carefully and he blew out a sigh, covering his face with his hands.

“This is bad.” He whispered, peeking back to you. His voice was full of sadness and worry. You frowned and shook your head, “No, wait why? Maybe it’s just a side effect of the potion.” You tried to make it clear that was what you thought was happening, but he shook his head.

“We’re going to the town healer for that and your ankle.” And that was it, his final words. He could barely speak because he knew why this was happening! It was because of one of the darn potions he mixed in. He swore at himself silently angrily, recognizing what was happening to your body instantly.

The healer wouldn’t be able to magically return your body back into normal. It was more of a type of visit to fix your ankle and asses the damage of the potion you had to your body. You both knew the healer wasn’t going to be able to fix your body. Only someone who was powerful and knew how to use magic in a delicate way of fixing this.

And how you didn’t feel any hunger. It was a cruel one in a million chances of happening – from one of the potions he mixed together. Your body was slowly turning into stone, most of the time these side effects would be noticed instantly and even can be seen on the body. But your case was different, it sounded like it was happening inside your body first, very slowly. Even if it wasn’t that he was still terrified. Perhaps the healer can give you something to slow down the progression of it.

“But what about clothes? Aren’t we going to visit the neighbors?” Your question made him pause in his hurry and he nodded and picked you back up.

“Yes, we will go there first and then to the healer,” He continued with, “I’m truly sorry.” You shifted uncomfortably in his hands, feeling a spike of nervousness hit you as he quieted himself down.

The visit to the neighbors had gone well considering you were doll sized. Jamie had instantly picked you up and ran to her room to go play dolls with you. Severus stook behind in the living room with the rest of their family, engaging in conversation but also asking for some help or advice. The family had no clue what to do.

It was comforting to see people the same size as you again – but it wasn’t very relieving because it was actual dolls.

“This one’s Millie. She lives in the toy mansion with her roommates, Coral and Timmy. Millie really likes to swim, but only swims in the lake.” Jamie paused for a while, a sad expression forming on her face. You sat in one of the seats that actually fit you, holding one of the doll’s teacups to your lips.

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, truly interested in the doll’s stories. Jamie shook her head dramatically, casting her eyes away from yours.

“She can’t swim in the bathtub! Don’t you see what happened to her hair? We had to cut some off because she got stuck in the drain.” Jamie almost seemed to start crying and you instantly stood up in the chair, shaking your head to her.

“Oh no! That’s terrible to hear, I’m so sorry Jamie – and Millie, I’m sorry that happened.” You lowered your voice to Millie, pretending to be speaking to the dolls. Jamie giggled at your actions and scooted closer to you.

“So, why are you mini sized? Do you want to live in my toy mansion?” Jamie questioned, pouring you some more “water” into your teacup. There wasn’t actually anything in there and you were relieved.

You glanced to the side, coming up with a half-truth, so she wouldn’t feel upset. “Well, once upon a time, I found a spirit that gave me three wishes. This was my first wish, to be like a doll! That’s why I’m mini sized. And your mansion is amazing!” You rambled, keeping a grin on your face to make sure she didn’t see how bad the situation was. You entertained the idea of living in a toy mansion, and you were a bit surprised when you realized that the furniture in the mansion actually was very nice and comfortable.

But then you looked back to Jamie, and you watched as her face smoothed down to a frown and her eyes started to water, “Is the spirit still here?” She asked, mumbling. You kept quiet but nodded to her.

“Can I make a wish, pretty please?” She questioned, sniffling and your lips parted as you stared at her confused and worried.

“Of course. The spirit will listen to your wish.” You replied, slowly walking over to pat her arm softly.

“Really? You’ll share a wish for me? But it’s your second wish.” She really wanted to make sure it was okay, and you smiled and nodded, while you continued to pat her arm in comfort.

“Thank you so much!” She mumbled excitedly but her tears continued to drop down. You felt an ache in your heart start to grow, worried that something was going on and Jamie was hurt. You’ve never seen her so upset before and it scared you.

You breathed in deeply and asked, “Is everything okay, Jamie?” You were so scared and worried, a million questions going through your head. You were trying to remember everything about her, thinking that maybe there was something going on and you didn’t see it before. You were so nervous but maybe she wanted to go to an amusement park or something!

“Yes… it’s just that I always play by myself or with the dolls. I wish I had friends.” Jamie whispered back and her eyes widened at the revelation. It was as if she had kept it to herself for a long time and didn’t reveal it until now.

“Oh Jamie,” You paused and hugged her arm as best as you could. You squeezed tight and continued, “I promise you will have many friends in life.” She responded with a teary thank you and patted your back softly with her fingers.

By the time you and Severus left, it was a little after lunch time. He kept glancing over to you with a smile but wouldn’t say anything. It was because of what you were wearing. It looked adorable on you and reminded him of one of the outfits you wore on date nights.

It was a lovely dress, plain and black. It was simple and looked gracious on you, it surprised him because he thought you’d come out of the room wearing an obnoxious outfit, one bright with colors and stripes or dots and hearts all over, something that you’d normally see with dolls.

“Did Dylan and the family say anything to you?” You asked gently, moving into a conversation. Severus nodded back to you and sighed.

“They suggested seeing the healer,” He stopped for a second and cleared his throat, “Ah, and some of my old acquaintances will be coming tomorrow morning. Hopefully one of them will know how to fix this.” His voice dropped at acquaintances, still unsure of how to describe people of his present workplace and past. He was relieved when he saw that all of them responded to his note for help, but he was also nervous.

He hasn’t seen a few of them for a while. Molly Weasley and one of her boys, Ron, were the first to respond. They lived about an hour away from here, the closest of all other people. He was hesitant to enlist their help, because of how things were left off after the Battle of Hogwarts. Severus bonded with one of the other boys, Fred, after both almost died out in the field.

While in recovery, Severus shared advice to Fred, which was entirely unlike him, but after witnessing how close Fred was to death, and the same for himself, he thought it would be good to do. He told Fred to take care of himself properly, of body and mind, and the two somehow bonded over wounds and silence after.

Years after the battle took place, the Weasley family had done fairly well for themselves. Thankfully, all still are alive, but the only ones that were close to Severus and you were Molly and Ron in their family home. Hermione was invited as well – the invitation extended to her because she married Ron, and their children. The rest of the Weasleys were off somewhere else and unable to come by.

Severus thought back to his own wedding with you. You met so many of his past students and their families, along with a few other people, and got along with all of them greatly. He felt a bit more eased at that.

“Are you alright with it?” You called him out of his thoughts. Severus briefly raised his eyebrows and pondered in thought for a moment.

“I’m not entirely sure. I have barely kept contact with some.” He replied, the Weasleys included. Though, he thought of Harry Potter. He was still in contact with him, as you and Severus often are invited for annual dinners and get-togethers for holidays. Severus’s relationship with Harry had changed quite a bit, as he somewhat became of a father-figure or at least perhaps a role model, a year after the battle took place. Harry was always the one who reached out to him, so when Severus sent him the urgent note, Harry realized how serious this was.

He would be coming sometime in the morning. The trip out to your home took some time. But Severus looked forward to seeing Harry and his kids. Ginny wouldn’t be able to come, Harry mentioned in the reply, saying that she was busy at work.

“And others?” You asked softly, unsure of how he was feeling.

“Minerva won’t make it, Hagrid will come by– and Dumbledore, well you know how he is.” He spoke, shaking his head at the mention of the last teacher. You snorted, understanding what he meant by that.

“I take that as a maybe.” You laughed, and he briefly smiled back.

“Yes.”

“I suppose they’ll all come through flying,” You paused, noting it. “Oh, we forgot to prepare for them!” You gasped, realizing now and he shook his head at you.

“You are in doll size right now. I doubt they’ll think we’re rude hosts if we don’t serve them lemonades and finger sandwiches.” He almost laughed at the thought, and you pouted back to him.

“But still, we haven’t seen some of them in a while! We should at least have something for them.” You replied and he shook his head again. He couldn’t understand how you were worried about such a thing like manners and being a good host when this was happening to you.

He very hesitantly responded with, “Alright then. I suppose we should.”

The healer stared at you and Severus in disbelief. Gregory had not even imagined in all his life that he’d see something like this before. As the town healer, the most horrid day of his job was when he had to fix a dislocated shoulder and reverse a tickling charm, Rictumsempra, on a group of joggers.

“This is um, different.” He stumbled out, staring at you sitting in Severus’s hands. You nodded to him, and he let out a nervous laugh, turning around and walked back to sit on his chair. Gregory started to search for his glasses, unable to locate them after a few seconds of searching on his desk.

“Yes, she’s experiencing symptoms from a strong hardening charm, Duro. And she hurt her ankle.” Severus was the first to respond to the healer, who gulped anxiously at the words.

“Isn’t Duro used for objects? Not humans?” Gregory replied, confused. Severus rolled his eyes, already annoyed at the healer for not knowing this and you spoke up this time instead of him.

“Yes, well there are different types of the charm, one including a potion type. The potion isn’t supposed to be used for humans… But it did now.” You shrugged as you explained, and Gregory blinked rapidly, not knowing how to treat that.

“Okay, let me just examine you very quickly and then we’ll see what I can do from there. Oh, and please do explain why you drank that potion and why you are miniature.” He chuckled, pointing to the bed for you to lay down. Severus set you down carefully and folded his arms together.

He told the healer how you became tiny, and you were nodding along to the story. He mentioned all the potions and the spells he used to guide him, included all the ingredients to the potions and how the smoke affected you, and then how you turned doll sized.

“Wow, interesting.” Gregory managed out, wishing he didn’t go to work today. He did want to help you! But he wasn’t sure how to do that. For all his time as a healer, the job wasn’t like this at all – he didn’t treat people who were affected by mysterious mixes of potions.

He rolled his chair over to you and glanced to your ankle. He scrunched his eyes and leaned closely to try to look at it. When all he saw was a bit of swelling, he pulled back and stated, “You definitely hurt your ankle.” Both you and Severus gazed to each other for a quick moment, a bit irritated but you were a little bit amused.

“Yes, I did.” You replied, nodding to Gregory.

“And you are very tiny.” He continued, shrugging slightly. Severus raised one eyebrow to the healer, “Yes… and?” He spoke up.

“And I can’t really give you anything because you are very tiny.” Gregory turned back to you and explained, ignoring Severus completely.

You frowned and went to go respond to him, but he continued, “And I can’t do anything for that.” You almost flinched back when he pushed against the bed and then pushed himself back, so his chair would roll to the desk.

He clapped his hands together and nodded to both you and Severus, very awkwardly.

“You’re not going to at least try to help?” You asked, visibly confused and frustrated. Gregory shook his head to you and glanced down to his desk, starting to write something down in his notebook. You looked over to Severus again, who was staring at Gregory with a heavy stare.

You held onto your hurt ankle, sighing deeply. You didn’t expect anything else to happen but then Severus slammed his hand against the healer’s desk, causing him to jump in his seat.

“You’re refusing to help, but you call yourself a healer?” Severus questioned rhetorically, scoffing at the man. Gregory pursed his lips to the side and rolled his chair away from his desk.

“Calm down,” He paused to which Severus raised his eyebrows in anger and his voice raised, “My wife is doll sized and you’re telling me to calm down?” Gregory stood up and shook his head.

“Look, I don’t know how to treat your wife.” He explained, glancing over to you. Your mouth dropped at Severus and how he became so angry and upset, you haven’t seen him so upset before, you weren’t sure what to do.

Gregory walked over to you and lifted your ankle with one of his fingers. “Ow!” You winced, pulling out of his grasp and he whispered a quick sorry to you, but then looked over to Severus, as if it were a demonstration.

“See, I might injure her if I do treat her. But the best thing to do is keep your ankle elevated, don’t walk with it. And to ice it for about twenty minutes every few hours.” Gregory explained, sighing as Severus shook his head.

You pulled your ankle up on your lap, a hurt gasp coming out of your mouth. Gregory glanced over to you apologetically. When he let go of your ankle, it dropped back to the bed and it ended up hurting even more.

“You imbecile!” Severus sneered angrily at him, and the healer shook his head as if he didn’t really hurt you.

Severus looked to your ankle and then back to your face, seeing as your eyes started to water. “Oh dear, please don’t cry, tiny one.” He mumbled, even more worried than before coming here.

“I don’t have my glasses at the moment and I’m afraid that my skills aren’t at the level it needs to be to treat you.” Gregory paused and sighed, “Oh, I can’t heal these wounds. They are far too tiny for me to even see.”

You nodded at him, understanding that he didn’t trust himself enough to treat you. You thought that he could’ve helped with at least a wrap for your ankle – or a makeshift boot, but you supposed that would be too hard to create at the moment. There wouldn’t be a boot for your ankle this size.

“I apologize. Perhaps you can try the healer in the next town over.” Gregory spoke and escorted Severus and you out of the room after Severus picked you up. Your husband stayed silent, glaring at the man as you said goodbye to the healer.

Once you two got back home, your ankle was still throbbing horribly and you decided to try to elevate it, like Gregory advised to. Severus was still angry, shaking his head and muttering some unkind things about the man.

“He made you cry – he hurt you instead of healing, what an,” You cut off Severus’s rambling with a nervous laugh.

“Dear, you don’t need to worry about him. We don’t have to go back; it was clear he didn’t know what to do.” You spoke up, sitting against a book spine and propped up your hurt ankle on a set of folded hand towels.

“Yes, we will never go back there.” Severus insisted and shook his head, “Horrid boy.” You chuckled at the insult and told him to come rest for a while, on the couch, beside where you were sitting, on the coffee table.

It felt like it’s been so long since the last time you two really sat down together and took a rest, but in reality, you two did that yesterday and the day before, like always. Severus calmed down after a few minutes, but still he wanted to set a spell against the man and wondered if that would truly be the morally right thing to do.

His mind continued to drift until he glanced to you and realized you fell asleep. He sighed softly; glad you were truly resting now. It’s been a long day and he could tell you were still in pain because of your ankle.

“Oh, what will I do with you, my love?”

He lifted you up carefully and placed you into bed, on the pillow again. Instead of using the pillow cover as a blanket, he used two of his most comfortable feeling handkerchiefs and tucked you in. He kissed the top of your head slightly, as best and as gently as he could. Every few minutes he went to go check on you and had even placed a small bag of ice on your ankle. He kept it there for a few minutes and then would take it off and monitor if your ankle was swelling up even more.

While he was not taking care of you in the room, he would go to his study and look for books that he used for the potion. He started to research and reread everything he already went through and searched for even more books and reports. His quick goal as of now was to find a way to stop the hardening charm (or now potion) from spreading even more. His true goal was to reverse the potion he made and have you back into your body safely, and in the back of his mind, he remembered the chanting of his dream.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes, comments are very much appreciated. Let me know what you thought :)

Do not repost my stories under any circumstances. If you notice my stories are up from a different account, please message me or send an ask. Thank you!

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.09

11/12/2020

Stirrings

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,297

Warnings: language, very light smut, sexual situations, weddings, marriage, pregnancy

A/N: So this is it. This is the one. I hope y’all like it. This is where plot rears its head. Or begins to anyway. I’ll leave y’all to enjoy it. If you do happen to like it and reblog it, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

Dinner with the Warriors Three is eventful.

Several plates have already been knocked to the ground. Goblets and large mugs of mead and ale drop to slosh across the floor in the ruckus.

With a small yeep you duck just in time as a large sturdy turkey leg dripping with honey glaze and butter flies towards you and then hits the wall behind you.

“Hey!” Thor disapproves at Fandral and Hilde, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

He curls his fingers at you, calling you to him and you rise from your chair. You gather your skirts and scurry towards him in obedience. He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to sit in his lap, turning slightly sideways so that he can shift to protect you with his body if he needs to.

“Watch where you’re throwing things!” He chastises but is ignored.

Volstagg had also cried out when Thor had, and their voices all mix together.

“Hey!” He rises from his seat so abruptly that it falls back and clatters noisily onto the floor. “Stop wasting the best parts!”

From the spot beside you where the turkey leg had clearly been aimed at but missed, Loki wipes at the juices that sprinkled his face as it flew by.

Heimdall chuckles lightly, his deep timber made to rival Thor’s you feel. Hilde also laughs, reaching out quickly to take Fandral’s plate from him before he can grab another piece of food.

“If you couldn’t take the comeback, why did you mouth off?” Loki asks Fandral, other than his wiping, he seems unphased.

“It was a simple question, Loki.” Fandral counters.

“No, it was a jab.” Sif is actually smiling, and you’ve taken to staring at her every few seconds.

She’s not paying attention to you in the moment, so you sitting on Thor’s lap is not her focus. It gives you lots of time to just admire her beauty. She’s so freaking pretty!

She’s also very much a part of this group. You can see where she fits now and she’s indispensable to these lovely Asgardians.

“All I did was ask him if he has a girl!”

“That’s assuming a woman is what he wants.” Hogun rationalizes, reaching to grab the large roll on his plate.

It’s not a normal roll. It’s made differently than what you know. It tastes amazing, but it has flavors that you’ve never had on Earth before.

“Ooh, that’s a good point.” Hilde snaps her fingers, pointing at Hogun before leaning against the table, arms folded and pushing her empty plate away. “So, what is it, Loki? Male? Female? Non-gendered?”

Loki looks highly aware of the fact that everyone seems to be watching him now. Even you find yourself looking at him, waiting to learn more about your brother-in-law to be.

He finishes wiping his face, dropping his napkin on the table before he leans back, placing his hands on his thighs. He meets Hilde’s gaze and gives her a narrowed eye grimace as he answers, “I don’t have a preference.”

The table seems to deflate, all of them disappointed for some reason.

“Well, that’s gonna make it harder to find you someone.” Volstagg acknowledges.

“It means we’ll have a wider pool to choose from.” Heimdall reasons.

“Loki would need to learn to put others before himself before he can even think about being with someone.” Sif contributes, bringing down the pleasant atmosphere a little.

You can feel Thor tense underneath you, your hands hurrying to give his wide shoulders a squeeze where you’ve got hold of them as he looks to his left at his lifelong friend.

“Sif…” He pleads.

Suddenly, this moment seems endless.

Everyone is silent. Across the table, you see Loki looking a little wounded. Like he’s been punched in the chest. Not hard, but enough to make him flinch.

You don’t like it. You really don’t like it.

You look at Sif with new eyes. And you speak before you can stop yourself. The anger that builds in your chest bubbles up and it’s bitter. It tastes like acid.

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much her unwelcoming behavior towards you has bothered you.

“You’re joking right?”

She looks at you.

Thor’s arm loosens around your waist, his hand finding a spot on your hip.

She doesn’t seem to have anything to say, but you have plenty.

“I guess your rudeness doesn’t stop at me, but apparently extends to even your lifelong friends.” You’re seething, chest burning, head getting fuzzier as the adrenaline from confronting her getting the better of your senses.

“Cherub…” Thor whispers, not to stop you, but with worry.

A realization overcomes his face as it softens, and he sees how much her refusal to be nice has hurt you.

“Just so you know, since the moment I met Loki he’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s been friendly and supportive and helpful and already the best brother-in-law I could ask for. I was seriously excited to meet you and get to know you because I’d heard a lot about your accomplishments but since I got here you’ve been nothing but abrasive, dismissive, and inappropriate with the way you act around Thor when you think I’m not watching.

“As far as I’m concerned, the only one that needs learn to put others before themselves at this table, is you. And if I could have it my way, I would ask you not to come to the wedding on Thursday but I know Thor wants you there so, as your Queen, I’m ordering you to come, whether you like it or not.”

The room is silent. Even Vostagg has frozen, mid-chew.

You get up, Thor’s hand stuck to your hip as if glued there, but he doesn’t stop you. Everyone else stands, even Hilde and Sif. Though she does it more slowly, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“I can’t eat anymore.” You huff. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

You make for the door but stop as you reach it, hand placed on the handle before you turn back towards the table and find Loki.

“For what it’s worth, anyone you choose would be lucky to have you.” With a final firm nod, you shove the doors open and stomp your way back to your room, taking the stairs as quickly as you can while hiking up your dress so that you don’t trip.

Even though your hands are shaking, your heart pounding, you feel much lighter now.

In your room, you strip the day away, dress left in a mess just inside the door. Your shoes just after. Stockings. Bra. Underwear at the bathroom doorway.

The water is already steaming hot when you walk into it, a sigh of relief hissing through your lips as you dip down into the water until your shoulders are submerged.

You’re not sure how long you steep there in the water—it could be seconds or hours—before you finally hear the bedroom door open.

“Y/N?” The voice pulls you from your empty space, that soundless pit in your mind where you go when you drift off into non-linear tangents of thought.

It’s the space where most of your stories come from. A space no one but you knows about.

“Leaving me breadcrumbs, cherub?” Thor asks, his voice lower, still out in the room. “This trail is intriguing.”

Half of your lip curls up in a smile, you keep your back to the bathroom door, intent on keep your mouth shut as long as you can so that you can hear what he really thinks about what you’ve just done in that dining hall.

“Dress. Stockings. Brassiere.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “Underwear.”

He’s in the bathroom doorway now, and you hear the hiss of all of your clothing fall back to the ground as he drops it at the sight of you.

“Hello. Might I join you?” He’s actually asking and will go away if you tell him he can’t.

Because you still don’t want to speak, you look over your shoulder at him and give him a gentle nod.

You keep watching him, staring at him as he reaches up and unhooks the straps on his armor. He moves to the long wooden slat bench along the wall and places it there. He follows it with his black shirt, then he sits and pulls off his shoes.

As he takes off each piece, he looks up at you, meeting your eyes and watches you for any give in your mood.

Whenever he’s not looking at you, you admire the bend and shift of his muscular torso. There’s a power in his body that you’re familiar with. Not strength. That’s not what you mean.

He’s got muscles, sure, and he can lift probably tons. You’ve seen the clips of him in fights around Earth.

What you’re thinking about is the power underneath all the appealing surface. He radiates it and it’s intoxicating. It makes you feel safe when he’s with you.

With his boots placed aside, he stands and unbuckles the leather belt around his waist. He opens the front of his pants and pushes them down.

No underwear.

You’re seriously tempted to smile at the fact that he’s been going commando all day long.  You resist.

He throws them behind him then sits on the edge of the pool before lowering himself into the heated water.

He sighs in comfort but doesn’t give himself time to relish in the feeling before he’s moving towards you, the sloshy water splashing his golden body.

You wrap your arms around yourself just as Thor wraps his around you too. He pulls you close, smooshing your breasts against his chest.

He dips down to kiss your bare shoulder, then your neck, side of your chin, then finally a small and incredibly irresistible peck to your lips that almost cracks you. You almost throw yourself on him.

Instead you pucker right back, kissing him because you can’t resist him completely.

He really does have you wrapped around his finger.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have worried how you would handle yourself in this position of authority that you’re marrying into.” Thor admits, tracing the curve of your shoulder with his large fingers.

He dips down again, kissing it then nips at it, teeth grazing lightly to pull on the skin.

It makes you shiver.

“You should give me some orders too.” Thor mumbles, his voice thick with arousal.

You really wanna laugh. Instead you keep silent and after a few moments, he pulls back to look at your face. Neutral. Eyes observant. No sign as to what you might be feeling.

The atmosphere grows more serious. Even though he’s got you squeezed to him, when he meets your eyes, you can see the worry there.

“Why didn’t you say anything before if you were that upset about Sif?”

“I did say something.” You remind him. “And I’m sure Loki did too. And Hilde.”

“No,” Thor shakes his head. “All of you said that she was jealous and unwelcoming. You are the only one that could have told me that it was really bothering you.”

And he’s right. You hadn’t exactly acted like it bothered you except a passing wish that you could get to know her.

With a shrug you shake your head.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until tonight. She wasn’t being awful or anything. She just hasn’t said much to me.”

He’s silent for a bit, your eyes on the water by his elbow.

His hands find the sides of your face and gently he coaxes your gaze up to meet his own.

“I hate the thought of you suffering in silence.” He says, deep voice soothing the knots in your chest. “Promise you will tell me if anything or anyone hurts you. I will try my best to make it better.”

“You can’t fight my battles for me, Thor. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see that. But you don’t have to. I’d like to be useful if it’s possible. This might sound a little pathetic, but I’d very much like you to make me feel needed.” He pouts, and even though he’s playing with you, his words are real.

He doesn’t like being caught off guard. Not when it comes to things he should know. And by the looks of his face, the way that his playful pout turns into a real downturn to the corners of his lips, you fall under that category of things he should be aware of.

You nod, head barely moving underneath his heated hold.

He leans down to kiss you, just a loving peck before he wraps his arms around you to squish you against his body again and he tilts his head, urging your lips open with the tip of his tongue. He breathes in, a small moan pulled out of him as you swirl your tongue around his, tasting him. The honey in his ale still fresh.

He pulls back, eye still shut as he groans again. “Mmph, I could kiss you all day long and do nothing else.”

You know what he means. There’s something about these kisses, so charged. They feel amazing, toe curling.

Whatever chemistry the two of you have is all consuming and you don’t mind.

“Also, in case you think it went without my notice, I want to thank you for standing up for Loki.” Thor pushes your hair away from your face, leaning down to press another quick peck to your lips. “It means a lot to me that he has someone else on his side. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard for some people to see that he’s changed.”

“He’s been very nice to me. I didn’t like Sif talking to him like that. I know that I probably stepped on her toes. She’s known him longer than me, but the look on his face after she said what she said…” It’s making your blood boil all over again.

“Loki has done many things to warrant her mistrust, but her words were cruel. I’m very grateful you spoke on his behalf. I’m certain it meant a lot to Loki too.”

You untangle your arms from between your bodies, wrap them around him under his arms and lay your head against his chest.

“He’s my family now.” You sigh. “Both of you.”

It’s your new truth. You’re not alone anymore!

“I will fight for both of you if anyone hurts you.”

You feel it so fiercely that you squeeze him, and he actually groans at the gesture. You know that you can’t hurt him though, and he’s just humoring you.

He chuckles against your hair, kissing your head as he holds you back.

“I’m so glad you chose to come meet me.” Thor whispers, running his hand along the curve of your back.

“I’m so glad they forced me to come meet you.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The planet is nearly decimated.

It’s a shell of what it once was, but dark still. The cold bites harshly.

The rough terrain is snow-covered. Ice grows from the ground into tall towers that rise hundreds of feet into the frigid air.

In a crater, full of crumbling structures that once stood tall and menacing, is the entrance to a cave. The darkness dips down and winds through the ice, unstable and shifting, with cracks along ground walls and ceiling.

Despite the bitter cold, a small green light begins to glow down in the darkest pit.

The cave suddenly stretches, a ginormous cavern hundreds of feet in Jotunheim’s depths.

Through the darkness paces a figure, small in stature but glowing an almost ethereal jade. The light pulsates, wrapped around a female form. Her body is perfection. The Venus made flesh.

Her long blonde tresses cascade along her back, a golden river flowing past her waist. On her head a smooth emerald helm with twin peaks rising up like horns on either side of her brow.

Her tunic, well worn in the exact same shade of green as her helm as is the rest of her outfit. Over a pair of leather pants, an armored soft strap skirt laces up along her hips, and tall boot with a helix design in line stop just above her knees.

Her bodice is laced at her front, leather ties tied tight to keep out the cold. Her strong yet slender shoulders are wrapped in a long green cape, gray bear’s fur lining the neck for warmth. It sweeps around her as she carves a line in the ice with her restless movements.

From the darkest corner of the large cavern comes a deep but weakened voice.

“Cease your pacing, Asgardian. Before I stop it for you.”

His words are followed by a wheezing breath, a cough, and a deep slow sigh.

The woman stops, crossing her arms across her chest as she stares into the dark.

“How much longer must we wait? I can feel him slipping away from me. His eyes have wandered, yet again.” She drops one arm, slapping at her cloak in frustration.

“Your obsession with Odin’s whelp escapes my understanding.” The deep voice breathes in again, wheezes as he breathes out. “Remember my intent, witch. I will kill the God of Thunder.”

“Yes, I heard you the first million times you told me. I do not need the constant reminder. Thor will die.” She sighs, turning to look towards the entrance of the cavern, in search for the handsome golden face that rests in her heart. “You can kill him, as long as he dies loving me and only me. Thor is mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s your fifth time zoning out, your mouth slightly open as you stare at the reflection in your new vanity shoved into Thor’s spacious room.

“Your Highness?” Estrid nudges you, leaning forward to try and catch your attention.

“Hm?” You jump, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

She smiles at you kindly, knowing the source of your distraction. It isn’t hard to guess.

“What color rose shall we put in your hair?”

“Um…” You look down at your wedding dress, carefully spread out around you and held in place by your new set of intricate silver armor. It was cold when they’d put it on you, the metal touching your bare shoulders, but it’s padded so that it doesn’t hurt.

The design is very practical. It’s real armor that you’re expected to wear for official military events or if there is an actual attack on the palace. You’re going to be a warrior people’s Queen and a warrior husband’s wife. The armor is made for you to use.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t also beautiful.

Thor made very specific requests to its pieces. Along the sides around your stomach is a delicate floral design. The shoulder pieces, not to be worn today because it makes you look gentler and more refined, are also decorated along its edges with vines of smaller flowers and at one outer corner of each piece is a blooming rose with its petals spread wide.

Along your wrists and forearms you wear bracers, just as beautifully decorated and there to help hold your sleeves down.

“Thor’s armor will be black?” You check, trying to remember what he’s supposed to wear.

“Actually, Your Highness, his Majesty’s armor will be silver, to match your own. With gold highlights along his breast plate. His cape will still be red. That is his best color.” She smiles, her hand resting by the collection of roses in a wooden box that had been filled this morning from the gardens.

“Then we’ll go with the red rose. The one in full bloom, and this lighter one, in half bloom.” You touch each one gently, caressing the velvety petals in admiration of their pretty color.

“An excellent choice, Your Highness.” Estrid quickly goes to attaching them, adjusting your hair on the top of your head and pinning them into place.

“Are you almost ready?” Hilde’s voice filters in, the door now wide open as she stands there staring in at you.

Her eyes are bright, her mouth open in awe.

“Does it look bad?” You worry, reaching up to touch your hair then reaching down to fuss with the armor.

“You look…” Hilde stops, at a loss.

“Beautiful.” David provides, a calm smile stretched across his lips.

“You made it!” You gasp, getting to your feet just as Estrid finishes with the flowers and rush to him.

He hugs you, laughing as you squeeze him tight.

“Ouch,” he says, teasing you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You pull away and he laughs a bit more loudly. “I thought you weren’t going to make it back in time. Where did you go?”

“I had a favor to do for your husband to be.” David explains, then pushes you back so that he can take a better look at you. “You are really, absolutely beautiful.”

That makes you feel better. More confident.

“He’s so right.” Hilde agrees, nodding with what looks like joy in her eyes.

“Thanks, Hilde. David? You are going to walk me down the aisle, right?”

David’s face goes blank. He looks to Hilde and then to Estrid before he meets your eyes again.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you!” You laugh, giving his arms a squeeze. “David, you’re the closest thing I have to family in my life. You’ve been a real father to me through all of this and everything before. Of course, I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

David’s eyes slowly grow misty, his smile growing wide by the moment before he pulls you back into a gentle hug.

“It would be my honor.” David whispers just for you.

“Ooh, none of that.” Hilde interrupts, reaching out to pull the two of you apart. “No crying, you’ll ruin your makeup and Estrid will have to do it again.”

You all laugh. Sweet chuckles of impending excitement as the hour that will change your life grows closer.

You seriously cannot believe that in less than two hours, you’ll be married. More importantly, you’ll be the queen of an entire people.

Most of them have been so welcoming. They’ve eaten up any information they could get on you and you’ve been so grateful for their kindness.

“Hey guys? Anyone here?” A soft lilting voice flitters in from the doorway and you turn to see who posses such a sweet sounding tone.

What you find, you aren’t expecting.

Completely contrary to the small and gentle voice stands what looks like a large collection of massive rocks piled up in the shape of a burly man.

There is a definition at the end of its arms of hands, feet without shoes at the ends of its legs. And at the center of the large mass that makes up its head is a kind looking face. Pure eyes. And he’s got it all topped with a slick black suit and a light blue tie.

He lifts his massive hand and waves it. It’s a minute movement as he stands up straighter with all eyes in the room on him.

“You’re a Kronan.” You realize, pointing at him rudely.

“Yeah, my name is Korg. Thor’s best friend and best man. Even though I’m not really his best man, since there is no best man in Asgardian weddings which is a shame since I would probably most definitely have been his choice. After Loki of course. That’s his brother. And probably Heimdall. His other best friend. And the Warriors Three. But definitely before Miek.”

You chuckle once, a slightly surprised and nervous laugh before you reach out towards him to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Korg. Thor was telling me about you yesterday. I’m Y/N. I’m so glad we can finally meet.” You wait patiently as his face goes slightly slack for a moment then he eagerly reaches out to take your tiny hand in his huge one.

He barely closes it around your own but shakes it with enthusiasm.

“Thor said you were a pretty lady. He failed to tell me about how nice you are. You’ll have to come over some time. To my house? We can play some Fortnite. I’ll even let you take the mythic.” He spouts, and you laugh again, just once.

“Oh. Okay. That’s so nice of you.”

He takes his hand back and Hilde finally moves to stand beside you.

“Did you just come to meet Her Highness? Or do you have a message from Thor?”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Thank you, Valkyrie. The car is here and ready to take you on the drive through the city?”

“Drive through the city?” You turn your confusion to Hilde and she waves to Estrid for your cloak who then rushes away to fetch it.

“It’s a quick procession through the main roads. Since the city temple hasn’t been built, this will be the only way for the people to see you. Normally they would come to the temple to be witness to the ceremony.” She explains.

“So, that’s why we’re having the wedding and the recep-the feast in the throne room.” You realize, nodding as Estrid lays your cloak over your shoulders then clips the thick red cape around you.

“That’s right.” Hilde smiles. “Is Thor already down there?”

“Yep. He said to ask you to be quick.” Korg nods.

“Why?” You wonder, turning that twist of confusion back to him.

“Uh, he said he’d like to have his wife already and be on his honeymoon. Then he said some other things that I don’t feel comfortable repeating about curves and skin, which I don’t have, by the way and I find it a little cruel of him to mention how good it tastes, especially that of his pretty lady. Felt a bit like bragging to me. Kind of rude, to be honest.”

“Thank you, Korg!” Hilde interrupts as you press your hands to your cheeks and feel them burn.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You wheeze.

“Why don’t you head down and let him know we’re on our way? Tell Armod to prep the heater. It’s cold today.”

You know she’s only assuming for your benefit. She doesn’t feel the bite of the cold here like you do.

Korg lumbers off without another word while you turn to David.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” You worry, for some reason desperate to make sure he’s here to walk you down the aisle.

Now that you have that image in your head, you don’t want to let it go.

You hadn’t thought about having a husband since you were a little girl but even then, you’d imagined a father walking you down the aisle. You’d never thought you would get the chance. And you have it now.

“Of course.” David puts his phone down and reaches out to take hold of your elbow. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

The next hour is a rush of movement. Gentle pushing and tugging and guiding from Hilde, Loki, and finally Heimdall and Thor as they settle you into a large levitating carriage. It’s not Earth tech, with the clear curves and colors of Asgardian design.

It’s open, so you understand the need for the cloak now. Armod is sitting at the front of this little ship, hands on a weird sort of lever that is supposed to make up the steering wheel?

The whole thing reminds you a little of the speeders in Star Wars.

“What is this?” You ask in wonder, looking underneath the vehicle as if you might see how it works.

“This is a Skiff. Modified to comply with Earth regulations. Normally the steering mechanism would be at the back of the ship.” Heimdall informs you, moving to touch a small panel on the side which pulls a small step out towards you. “Your Highness?”

You take his hand, and he helps you up, Thor following shortly behind him.

He sits beside you, still not having said a word.

As you turn to look at him, admiring him from his booted toes to his silver winged helm, you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You gasp, reaching down to touch the fabric of your cloak and the bottom edge of your armor.

Does it look weird? You in armor is not a look you’d ever thought you’d be rocking.

The heat of Thor’s hand traces along the bottom seam of your armor on your back. Fingers tickling the curve of your bottom before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close with gentle strength.

“You’re the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms, and beyond.” He gushes, and you laugh nervously.

Looking away from him because your neck, ears, and face are burning up and you can’t believe such a sappy grouping of words just came out of his stupid handsome mouth.

You feel his lips pressed to your temple, then cheek. You turn to look at him, wondering about what expression he’s wearing but instead he’s kissing you, eye shut, completely lost in the affection.

When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. Breathing a little hard as you yourself shiver.

“I love you.” He whispers, so soft and quiet only you can hear him.

“Thor…” You breathe, reaching up to hold his hand as he places it on your cheek.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. I just want you to know that this is it for me. I didn’t expect to feel this way by today but now that I do, I’m so grateful for you and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His confession leaves you weeping, eyes flooded with tears that streak down along your cheeks.

“Thor…” You gasp, pulling him down to kiss him again, just one quick kiss so that you can free your mouth up to speak. “I love you, too. I didn’t know that I could feel this way so quickly. But I do. I love you.”

Thor smiles, the brightness in his face is radiant and you’d swear he is literally glowing.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, a laugh in his voice as he reaches into his own cloak to pull out a sleek black handkerchief.

He pulls it up to your cheeks and gently wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Because you’re saying all these stupid sweet things that I want to hear and I’m so fucking happy, alright?” You sob just once, reaching out to push against his chest but he catches your arm and pulls you into a hug as he chuckles.

The Skiff begins to move, and you and Thor pull apart when the cheers begin.

You’re still trying to catch up in your mind to the mass of people waving and cheering from the sides of the main street through the city. There are endless flashes from human reporters who came to take pictures. In no time at all, the Skiff is pulling up to the front of the palace.

David is waiting for you and he frowns at the tear stains on your cheeks but a quick look at Thor and his dip to kiss your lips wipes all worries from his mind.

“See you in there, cherub.” Thor calls to you, leaving you just outside the doors of the throne room.

Estrid meets you there and quickly goes to work on fixing your face.

“It’s okay.” You squirm, trying to keep Thor in view but the doors close and all you get to see is the long table on the right side of the room with two large chairs meant for you and Thor during the feast and an array of smaller tables on the opposite side of the room.

Along the left side wall, at the very back are a group of men and women, all wearing stiff black suits. The ambassadors?

“They were happy tears.” You continue to resist, eyes lingering on the scary government group.

“Hilde will tear my hide, Your Highness. Please.” She begs and you stay still for her even though you doubt that Hilde would ever hurt anyone like she suggests.

“Are you nervous?” David asks, reaching to straighten your hair.

“No.” You admit, shaking your head only when Estrid is done with your face.

Instead her hands are on the clasp of your cloak as she peels it off of you and throws it over her arm and then moves around you to straighten your dress.

“I’m so ready to be his wife, David.” You sigh, the feeling of madness on the edges of your mind. “Is that weird? It doesn’t feel weird.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not weird, if it’s really how you feel. I only want you to be happy.”

“He makes me happy. Really. I was worried about Jane in the beginning and scared about loving him if he didn’t love me back. But he’s more invested in us than I thought he would ever be. He’s being real, I think. It feels real. When he tells me he loves me, it doesn’t sound like a lie.”

David watches you, then taps Estrid on the shoulder. “Thank you, I think she’s ready. Tell them we’ll be right in.”

Estrid gives you a curtsy and disappears through the doors.

You steal a look and spot Thor rolling back and forth on his feet in front of the throne as Loki talks in his ear beside him.

He looks towards you and he smiles, stopping his nervous movement as he locks eyes with you.

Your heart stutters. The doors close again.

“Y/N…I want you to be vigilant with your emotions. You say that his declarations don’t sound like lies and they might not be. But lies like that never sound like lies.”

Your heart sinks a little, your mind racing with every moment that Thor has been sweet with you.

“It’s real, David.” You protest.

“Yes.” He nods, taking your hands in his. “After watching the two of you together, I believe both your emotions are real. Just as you say. I only want you to guard your heart. I want you to protect yourself.

“Marriage is not easy. I have only my own experience to speak from, but there were many obstacles that I did not expect. Laura and I hurt each other many times.” David explains.

“But you and Laura were together until the end. You were both so in love.” You hadn’t known his wife long.

She’d passed only a year after you having known her but every time you’d seen them, they’d been the picture of romantic love and true friendship.

“We were.” He nods, “But it wasn’t always easy. She and I both made many mistakes. Small ones and mistakes that challenged the very core of our relationship. Mistakes that almost tore us apart.

“And this is your first relationship. The first time you’ve ever given yourself over to someone like this. I’m worried for you. That’s all.”

“And that’s why I love you. You’ve been here for me when I’ve needed you most. I will be careful but I want to embrace what I’m feeling.”

“And that’s all I want too. Just your caution. Protect your heart, Y/N. No one else will protect it better than you.”

Really, you understand his worries. This is such a risk not only for you but for Thor too. The two of you hardly know each other.

Your chemistry is through the roof, but there is so much about who you two are as people that you still have to learn. Your lives as King and Queen will also play a part in how your marriage will come together.

Will you have time for each other? Time to make an heir? Time to spend time with whatever family you’re able to make?

“I can’t promise you that I’ll guard my heart well.” You shake your head but squeeze his hands tighter. “I can only promise that I’ll be true to how I feel. If something starts to go wrong, I’ll be open about it. With Thor and with anyone there to support us.”

Because let’s face it, you’ve known for a while that you’re absolutely fucked when it comes to Thor.

You’re head over heels and grateful that he is too. At least your marriage will begin with love even if in time, that fades. You’ll always have the memories you’re making now.

“I suppose this is the apprehension every father feels when his daughter marries. I’ll have to suck it up. But just know, that if you ever need a place to go, if something should be terrible enough that you need to leave, my home will always be open to you as sanctuary.

“I will protect you, as best I can when the time comes.” He pulls you to him, hugging you tightly.

“If,” you correct him. “If the time comes.”

Because you’re certain in your bones that Thor loves you and you love him, and the only thing that could tear that love apart is each other and you can’t see either of you making such a stupid mistake.

The large wooden doors open. David pulls back and takes your hand, wrapping it around his elbow. He lets you take a breath before he takes that first step towards the throne where Thor stands waiting, beaming with joy as his future wife approaches.

[rosesgonerogue]

Finding You (Again)

Chapter Two 

Masterlist

Damian

He hadn’t actually meant to say those things to Marinette. When Dick had burst in carrying her, his mind had gone to all of the worst case scenarios. How could he live with himself if Marinette was seriously hurt, or even worse, killed? She was too gentle, too precious to be sacrificed for Gotham’s sake. 

Of course, he couldn’t bring himself to express any of that. Damian was angry, angry at what could have happened to his wife, and angry at his wife for putting herself into the situation in the first place. A part of him wanted to cave, to apologize for his poisonous words, but he was stubborn. (Luckily Marinette wasn’t an easy crier, or he would have buckled right then and there.)

So he watched her march out, his fact fixed into one of passive disapproval until she was far gone. Even then, it took a few minutes before anyone felt like they could talk. 

“That was not handled well, Demon Spawn,” Todd said, finally breaking the silence. 

“As you are the last person I would ever ask for marriage advice, remind me to never listen to anything you say, Todd.” 

“No, Little D, Jason is right,” Dick said hesitantly. “I understand you were worried about Marinette, but that definitely felt like you were attacking her. You don’t just yell everything someone might be doing wrong at them, especially in front of the entire extended family. That was just… cruel.” 

“I don’t need it from you either, Grayson,” he spat. “Alfred, I’ll be needing a room prepared for me tonight.” 

The elderly man gazed at him, eyes sad. “There is so much about Miss Marinette and the Miraculous that you do not understand, Master Damian. I shall prepare your bedroom for you.” 

Damian could feel his eye begin to twitch as Alfred departed, followed by Bruce who said nothing. He simply gave his son a disappointed look. It hurt more than Damian cared to admit. 

“You’re selling her short,” Drake said, actually pulling his head away from the computer. “These are all things you would have thrown Jon into the middle of without thinking, and she’s just about as indestructible as he is. A number of those abilities and immunities have likely permanently altered her body, not just the suit.”

“And some of those things can’t be faked, Demon Spawn. The girl’s more of a tactical genius than the Replacement,” Jason said before standing up. “By the way, she’s always been too good for you. Let’s hope you didn’t f--”

“Goodnight, Jason,” Dick said, shoving his brother through the door. “Tim, you’re cut off, no more computer tonight. It’s bed time. And Little D, try to get some sleep. You and Marinette are both running on high emotions right now. Let things settle and tomorrow you two can talk when you’re calmer.” 

Damian watched impassively as his brothers left the batcave, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It was a dangerous thing, actually. He found himself with his head in his hands, mind replaying every cruel word he’d said to his precious wife. 

He dragged his hands down his face, willing his thoughts to redirect themselves to any place other than the wounded look in her eyes. That image warred in his mind with the thought of Marinette cold, pale, and lifeless. 

He didn’t know what to do. Marinette was strong, but the thought of what could happen, the thought alone of losing her was almost enough to break Damian. But he knew she wouldn’t stop being Ladybug, and he didn’t know how to process his panic, so it just became anger. 

This was absurd. He was obviously overthinking things. Damian would go to sleep, and when he woke up he would figure out some way to adequately apologize to Marinette, and maybe even get her to see his side of things. It would all be fine. 

It was not all fine. Damian found himself inexplicably lonely that night, and he was barely able to sleep a wink. Then, when he woke up from his fitful sleep he had to deal with the entire family telling him how badly he’d messed up, including a furious Mar’i, who couldn’t stand the thought of him having made her Aunt Nettie cry. 

“Maybe I was too harsh,” Damian admitted, gritting his teeth. “But she’s reckless lately, and I’m not the only one at fault for this fight.” 

“We’re not telling you to give up the fight,” Stephanie said, snagging a bagel. “We’re telling you to go talk to your wife like a grown adult instead of badmouthing her in front of your entire family.” 

“I - have I really been that bad?” 

“Damian,” Bruce said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “we leave dangerous lives, but it’s even worse if we don’t trust each other. Marinette is good for you, she tempers you when you trust her. If you want that again you need to go talk to her.” 

When everyone had said their piece, Alfred had all but dumped him out of the house, his expression closed. That alone made some of Damian’s anger die down. He’d never had Alfred so… disappointed in him before. 

So he pondered just what to say to her as he walked home. Would she be angry, sad? Would she cry? Would he cry? The possibilities were endless, but never once did he consider that his wife wouldn’t be there. 

The door was still locked - at least he knew she was still rational enough to care about her safety to that degree. When he’d pushed it open, he called, “Marinette?” 

She was not in the kitchen or the living room, nor was she in the room where she worked on commissions. A pit twisted in his stomach when he pushed open their bedroom door, only to find it similarly empty. 

He wasn’t sure when he had sunk to the ground, but somehow he was sitting on his butt, hugging his knees to his chest. Surely this was some kind of nightmare - he had to be back asleep at Wayne Manor, and his guilt was trying to communicate with him. Damian would wake up and genuinely apologize to his wife, because he was lucky to have her with him in any capacity. 

But he didn’t wake up. He didn’t apologize to his wife, because as long as he waited, she never walked through the door, looking for him. 

Damian had already lost his reason for living.

Taglist: 

@tbehartoo @kris-pines04 @thesunanditsangel @constancetruggle @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @rosalineandrosemary @novicevoice @momothefemur ��@theymakeupfairies @maskedpainter @mystery-5-5@dast218 @tip-tap-tired @zerotosiki @rebecarojas07 @bookgirl14 @certainmuffinbagelcalzone

Note: Happy Holidays, everyone! As an early Christmas present you get angst. If anyone would like to be tagged, just leave a comment below!

[aprilsrant]

Happiness.

Harry Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of the war, mentions of death/dying (promise nothing too serious), kind of angsty but fluff in the end. Enemies to lovers (kind of). Loosely based on the song Compass by The Neighbourhood.

A/N: This is a gift for my amazing girl Val, @minty-malfoy, I hope you can enjoy this fic, it was really fun to write. Happy Holidays to everyone reading this and to all of my followers, I love and appreciate all of you so much!

English is not my first language. Pictures are not mine. Open for more quality.

“I'm lucky you've been keeping me around

You're the star I look for every night

When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side.”

                                      Compass, The Neighbourhood.

Harry had never been one to believe in luck or chances, but there was no denying that ever since he was born, his entire destiny had been written in stone by someone who wanted nothing more than to destroy him; there was no denying that it felt like years of bad luck and a curse strong enough to affect everyone around him had been placed on his shoulders even before he could walk. 

After years of fighting Voldemort and his followers, Harry had the tendency of thinking that the norms of normality didn’t apply to him. Every new term at Hogwarts meant a new danger, threatening his life, his friends and the rest of the Wizarding Community that wasn’t part of the elite group of blood supremacists. 

Therefore, finding someone never did the top of his list when the number one was surviving through it all. Finding someone meant, at least to him, a glimpse of ordinariness and a sense of home, things that he never remembered of experiencing outside of Hogwarts and the Burrow. That being said, not under any circumstances Harry had believed encountering her would have been possible. 

(Y/N) was someone he had ignored and bound in a cage of old prejudice because of an ancient — and unhealthy — rivalry, one started centuries before they set foot on the castle. Their relationship wasn’t one for the romance movies the Muggles loved, those where the protagonists fall in love the moment they see each other. Instead, Harry and (Y/N) loathed the other ever since the first Potion class in their sixth year. 

For a Slytherin, dreams and ambitions are what you hold closely to your heart and anyone trying to defy them, or achieve them first, is waving a battle flag right in front of you, too loud to dismiss — or perhaps, the receiver of the message is too proud to ignore —. For (Y/N), seeing Harry Potter get all of Slughorn’s attention and praise when she had been the best on the subject for the last five years, was a slap in the face interpreted as a sign to unleash the rabid dogs of war.

If anyone had told Harry that he would grow to love her, to adore every piece of her, he would have laughed while claiming the person was mental. But, what was once a feud quickly transformed into a weird, unpredictable friendship. After that, it was only a matter of time for feelings to blossom.

Neither of them wanted to admit it, but deep inside of their chests and hearts, both knew that the sweaty hands, the longing stares, the intimacy of their jokes and the tenderness of their touch wasn’t the part of the play that friends acted.

It was then that the idea of bad luck and cursed for life appeared on his head again. How could he be so selfish to let her into his life when a real war was coming for him and for everyone who dared to choose his side? How could he pretend that the claws of death weren’t reaching for him, that his life didn’t depend on the shaky and ancient hands holding the scissors? Harry knew pulling Hermione and Ron, and his whole family, into the mess was already bad enough, but doing it to the girl who had become an unexpected beacon of light would make him even more guilty. It wasn’t fair that he had to worry about whether being with her or not would endanger her life, but Harry hadn’t been born for normality.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Harry heard her voice from behind him, strong but trying to cover the anger and hurt. It was only the two of them in the corridor since most of the other students were still in class or using their free period to study. The distance separating them gave the sensation of facing an endless ocean, one you could never cross. “Did I do or say something upsetting? Is it because of your friends? I know Ron doesn’t particularly like me but I promise I’m trying.”

“It’s not that and I’m not ignoring you,” Harry responded shortly, not stopping his walk or daring to glance back at her, afraid of giving in with only seeing the expression plastered in her face. The cold words escaping from his mouth and his attitude, rising the fire in the pit of her stomach.

“What do you mean you are not ignoring me, Harry?,” she scoffed while the pace of her footsteps increased to chase after the boy,  “you can’t even look me in the eye and say it to my face.”

“I’m answering your questions, am I not? In what way is this ignoring you then?” (Y/N) had admired Harry’s tendencies to sarcasm or ironic responses ever since they became friends — and perhaps even before —, but now she wanted to slap him for acting so unfaced.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because one day you look like you’re finally about to ask me on a date but the next one, you avoid me as if I were sick!”

Harry’s steps faltered, his chest tightened at the thought of (Y/N) reciprocating his feelings.

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it,” she whispered, putting herself in front of the boy.

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Is it because I’m a Slytherin?,” (Y/N) insisted. Now, Harry could see the ache and a hungry desperation in her eyes to know the answers, only there because of him. “Just don’t leave me, I- I can’t bear it. We can go back to hating each other if it makes it easier, but don’t do this, don’t leave me like this.”

“I don’t hate you, (Y/N), but I can’t give you what you want,” Harry said watching as her hands took hold of his owns, making his heart skipped a beat, “I’m not someone that can live a normal life, not with Voldemort threatening me and everyone I’m close with.” Harry didn’t miss her efforts to not flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord.

One of her hands travelled all the way up to his right cheek, the feeling of Harry’s skin and the way the boy had leaned into the touch of her fingers, forgetting for just a second all the worries plaguing his mind, had (Y/N)’s stomach almost bursting. 

“I don’t want nor need a normal life, Harry. I want you, I couldn’t care less about the rest,” she confessed.

“But I care! I care about what’s going to happen to you!,” He yelled (?), “you can get hurt, you can die, (Y/N)!”

“And so can you! Let me remind you, you’ve been there a couple of times now, Harry.” She was glad of choosing the empty corridor to confront him, not having to endure the hushed whispers and the stares, pointing at her as if she wouldn’t notice. “If there’s a war coming then I prefer to spend this few minutes of peace with you.”

“But if you-”

“And if I die, then I got to be with you in the end,” (Y/N) interrupted him, “I’m not afraid of dying, Harry, but I would love to live a little before doing so.”

He closed his eyes, releasing a shaky breath before embracing her figure and resting his head against her shoulders, smelling the signature and familiar fragrance of her perfume. A small smile appeared on (Y/N)’s face while she let herself enjoy the feeling of being in his arms, guarded from the evils outside the castle and loved by the boy she once used to loathe.

“We all deserve some happiness, and maybe even a tad of normalcy, Harry,” she whispered in his ear before looking at his green eyes and closing the distance between their lips.

Taglist: @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @gcdric @shadowsinger11 @thisismynerdyself @cappsikle @idont-knowrn @theweasleysredhair @aesthetically-hailey @slytherinsunrise @bannerbubble @lilac-wrists @storyisnotover

[the-piece-of-spadille]

Eustass Kid | Sorrow

Pairing: Eustass Kid x female reader

Notes: Mentions of death, and injuries.

Word Count: 2k

Killer was the first to hear the dreadful news, he was making his way down the street to the local bar where he was to meet back up with Kid. He heard a hushed conversation between two gentlemen and at first, he thought it was just another made up rumor. There’s simply no way that the Raven Pirates were dead. Their captain, (Y/n), is apart of the Worst Generation and has proven many times over, that she’s worthy of that title not only to the government but especially to Eustass and his crew.

It wasn’t until one of the men spoke about a fight that involved two Admirals that made the Killer’s blood run cold. He remained hidden and waited for any possible truth in the conversation. The names Aokiji and Kizaru came up a few times and that was enough for Killer to grab both men and drag them to his Captain. He knew, in the pit of his stomach he knew that something happened. If any part of the rumor turns out to be true, his captain is going to want blood and so will the rest of the crew. One simply doesn’t harm Kid’s beloved. 

The Kid Pirates soon found themselves sailing off to a winter island in the New World. Kid and Killer were able to get more information from the two men at the market before Kid destroyed the town in a furious rage. There was suspicion about an informant that tipped off the location of the Raven’s to the Government. A fight had already broken out between Pirates and Marines before the Admirals made it to the island. It was an easy win for the pirates until the Admirals showed. They don’t have the details, but the fight took a gruesome turn and many pirates lost their lives. No report has been made yet by the Government, at least not publicly. Which in turn means no record of who’s alive or dead.

Kid always said that he would be the one to kill them someday. (Y/n), the captain, got under his skin like no other. They both live bold and fearless lives and often they came into contact on the seas as enemies. That was before the incident with the Red Hair Pirates. 

It was (Y/n) who managed to keep Kid alive after losing his arm. She allowed him and his crew to recover on a winter island that the Raven’s use as a second home. It was then the relationship between the two captains began to shift. She would often check on the man, get him anything he needed, and most importantly, told him not to stop chasing after what he wants most.

It became evident that previous and new threats held no real weight to them. They still fought like cats and dogs, but it was different. The crewmates on either side saw what was forming between them and knew it was going to be a long road ahead before either side could truly rest. It turned into a long and agonizing game of who would fall victim to their feelings first. 

Ultimately (Y/n) was the first to fall, she grew tired of all the pent-up emotions and grabbed Kid by his signature coat and pulled him down to her height and kissed him. It stroked Kid’s ever-growing ego that he did not give in first and he paraded around the island as if he found the One Piece for weeks. With the warm memory in thought, he breaths a heavy sigh as he watches the passing sea. “You’re fine… you have to be.”

Starring out at the vast number of graves of the fallen crewmember, (Y/n) stood in the middle of a snowstorm. It’s been a total of three days since the lost of her crew. All but two members perished by the hands of the Admirals. It took two days to make it to their island and another to bury and lay them to rest, but she promised them she’d bring them back home.  “Please Captain (Y/n.) You need to warm up and rest. It won’t do you any good if you freeze to death out there” the voice yelled across the field of snow. Instantly whipping her head around, glaring at the last remaining crewmate.  

The words “freeze to death” played over and over in the captain’s head. That’s exactly what Aokiji did. He froze them to death while Kizaru pinned (Y/n) to the ground and made her watch as the other shattered her crewmates into pieces. Tears roll down her redden checks as she looks over at the graves for the last time tonight and whispers a “goodnight.” 

(Y/n) makes the slow tread back towards the warmth of the building. The injuries and cold catching up to her. “Sorry about the choice of words Captain, you need to rest. You’re heavily injured and you shouldn’t be out in that storm in your condition.” Avisa, the youngest and newest member of the crew being only eighteen, covers her captain with her own coat and holds the door open. Avisa was incredibly lucky to be mostly unharmed after what they went through. “We should probably change your bandages and disinfect them again… has your eyesight changed?”

(Y/n) groans from shifting the coat open and revealing the endless bandages wrapped around her body. “It’s… it’s as good as it’s going to get, I’m afraid. I lost about half the sight in my left eye.” The young girl shifts around, grabbing more bandages and disinfectant before settling in front of the captain and unpeeling the dirty bandages from the wounds earning a whimper of pain.

“Wait, before you start with the disinfecting, I could use a drink.” 

“Sure thing Captain, I’ll go fetch you some water.” Just as the girl began to move a loud boisterous laughter bounces around the walls of the otherwise quiet room. The two women jump from their seated positions at the voice of a man. “She means booze girlie” the voice snickers. (Y/n) pushes the girl behind her and does her best to seem threating but it’s proving to be hard in her state. This nearly makes the man laugh again but he gets a glance at the wounds scattered across her body. 

The outside lighting does little to show who’s at the door and it wasn’t until the man spoke again that (Y/n) recognized who was there. “Take it easy doll” Kid spoke, hand in the air stepping inside. “Kid” her voice wavers. Taking a few steps towards him but stops and clutches her side in pain. His smile falters as he crosses the room to grab her and keep her upright. 

He’s familiar with the layout and takes her to a bed in the closest bedroom. “Sit before you bleed all over the floor.” He walks out the room to motions for the rest of his crew to come inside. Killer follows his captain back into the bedroom to inspect (Y/n’s) wounds. Avisa, with a bottle of opened booze sitting on the table, had already unwrapped her wounds and had proceeded to disinfect her wounds.

There’s deep bruising along her ribs on the right, followed by three holes no doubt left by Kizaru, scatter over her torso. The worse being on her left shoulder. Kid grabs the bottle on the table and takes a generous swing before offering her more. “I did my best to stitch the wounds with what we had, I’m pretty sure her ribs are broken. She was…” the young girl had to stop keep herself from crying. Killer, as gentle as he could muster, touched the swollen and bruised area earning a sharp intake of air followed by a cry of pain. 

“I’d say three are broken and the rest are just bruised. What did you use for stitches? I see a few places that need to be touched up.” The masked man turns away from (Y/n) to talk to Avisa. “Horsehair. There’s a small ranch not too far from here.” He nods in thought, “we’re going to need more.” The pair leave the room to go retrieve more supplies and to fill in the rest of Kid’s crew on her condition.

Kid looks around for something to cover her body and he spots (Y/n’s) coat, or rather what’s left of it. It was a beautiful thick, long coat, jet black in color, and made of raven feathers, now it’s barely recognizable. It’s a lot smaller in length now from being ripped. More feathers decorate the floor than the actual fabric. It also mirrors the holes littered in (Y/n). It was a gift to her from him. “Say something please.” 

Kid looks over with an unreadable expression and shrugs off his coat and walks over. His hand traces over the new scars and wounds that littered across her. He pays extra care to the open wounds before his amber eyes meet hers. He brushes the hair out of her face to get a better look. Half of her left eye is clouded over with a faint scar to go with it. He knows now isn’t the time to get angry, but all he wants to do is tear the bastards heads off for hurting her. He can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like to lose her crew on top of everything. 

He takes a deep breath, something she has told him numerous times to do, and thinks back to what she said to him when he was in a similar situation. “It uh… adds character.” (Y/n) laughs until she feels the pain in her ribs. Kid scowls at her before dropping himself on the bed and his coat on her to cover her up. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.” He makes a “tsk” sound before telling her to shut up. She grabs his hand and plays with his fingers to calm her nerves. “It was planned.” 

“What?” 

“It was Scratchmen Apoo who told the Admirals where we were headed. Had to be. He was trailing us for a couple days and when the Marines spotted us, they let him go.” A stray tear falls down her cheek before she can wipe it away. “We we’re cornered into an island, so we abandoned ship for the time being and fought. We were fine until those bastards showed. They started to take us down one by one. Kizaru trapped me underneath him and held me in place. Made me watch.” Kid wiped away her flowing tears and placed a long kiss to her hair. He’s never wanted to hurt someone so bad in his entire life. Forcing her to watch. “It was Avisa who saved me. And to think I almost didn’t let her join… she shot them with sea stone bullets.”

The anger rolling from Eustass can probably be felt in the next room. He recently formed an alliance with Apoo and was already having his own issues with the man. This is the final piece straw that broke the camels back. Kid knows he can’t be trusted, and he need to be brought to an end. “I’ll make them all pay!” 

Kid jumps up ready to storm out and take his frustrations out on whatever he can get ahold of but (Y/n) speaks up just as he’s at the door frame. “I want to be apart of taking them down. I need to. For the sake of my crew.” Kid turns around and stomps into your direction and places a heated kiss on your lips. 

“Hurry up and get better, because your sailing with me.”  

[jetaime-jespere]

Prompt #19

#19. “Does your life revolve around embarrassing me?”

“Aaron, I need a favor.”

His boss, Rich, catches him as he’s arriving for the day, shuffling a few piles of papers on his desk as he waits for the clock to strike 8. Not a moment before, not a moment after, he thinks. Their shifts are carefully timed, every minute on the clock accounted for. The budget is tight; Aaron’s heard the rumors, questioning of why Ambassador Prentiss needs the amount of security she has. Whispers of cuts have become more and more frequent over the last few weeks. He’s grateful to still have a full schedule of shifts. Others haven’t been as lucky.

“Sir?” Aaron asks as evenly as he can. It’s about to be a long day and from what he’s learned in the months of working there, visits from Ambassador Prentiss’s head of security typically entail some special assignment, one he didn’t sign up for, but is volun-told for. “Is there something you needed?” He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he needs a good letter of recommendation when he ultimately puts in his two weeks sooner rather than later. He has his eyes on something a bit more ambitious, potentially the FBI. He’s already started the grueling application process.

“A big favor.” Rich sounds slightly out of breath, as if he ran the whole way to his office, judging by his red face. He looks annoyed, his face a little pinched, etched with a few more lines than it had the first time they met. Aaron still isn’t quite sure what makes his job so stressful - the Ambassador’s residence runs like clockwork, and now that it’s fall and things have settled down, it’s been relatively quiet.

“I need you to drive to New Haven this morning. I’d ask Harris to do it, but he called off sick and we’re short-staffed already.” It’s the way he says it that Aaron knows he just learned the news too, as if trying to coordinate logistics in his own head.

New Haven. Fuck, Aaron thinks, briefly closing his eyes. What he wants to say is Harris called off for a bachelor party in Ocean City and to find someone else. Instead, he sinks into his desk chair, doing his best to keep his expression neutral. Driving to New Haven can only mean one thing, and while he’s almost certain no one knows what happened over the summer, he can never be too sure. “New Haven, Sir? This morning?” He glances at the calendar on the wall - shit. It’s the coming weekend before Thanksgiving -more traffic is all but a given, and it also means Emily will be home for almost a full week.

Then he remembers he’s scheduled to work doubles most of the holiday week.

Great.

“Ambassador Prentiss called me to her office an hour ago. She’s asking that Emily be driven home from Yale tonight. I don’t know the details, but she was pretty persistent that one of us would go up there and get her. My guess is she got into some kind of trouble, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Aaron tries to hide his annoyance, and more so the slight tug of worry in the pit of his stomach. “What are you talking about? What kind of trouble?” He does the math in his head - it’s  a five hour drive to Connecticut without traffic. There and back will be at least a twelve hour day, if not more.

“I don’t want to speculate, but the last time this happened, she got caught underage in a bar and nearly got arrested. We never found out exactly what happened, but from what I heard, it wasn’t good.”

Aaron grimaces; it’s exactly like Emily’s mother to sweep something like that under the rug and completely ignore the bigger issue at hand. From what he’s learned, it’s been a familiar pattern for years.

“The Ambassador approved time and a half for whoever makes the trip. I know you said you need the -”

“I’ll do it,” Aaron says quickly before he can think too much about the circumstances, wondering just what could be so pressing at such a last minute.  His situation with Emily is complicated, one that should have never even become a thing in the first place. But it did, and even three months after she’d left, she remains at the forefront of his mind most days, a constant reminder of those hot summer nights in mid July.

There’d been nights at his apartment and early mornings in her room; behind closed doors he’d fallen for her. She’d careened into his world completely unexpected, a welcomed change from his familiar pattern of soft-spoken, yet well-intentioned blondes. Emily was the exact opposite. There had been secret meetings tucked amongst the endless gardens, dinners in dive bars and a few trips to nicer restaurants under the city lights when his paycheck allowed.  It was exhilarating and all consuming until it wasn’t, when it all came to a screeching halt a few weeks later.

They haven’t talked since the night before left for New Haven. The night ended with an argument, along with tears (hers) and a ridiculous sense of guilt (his) as he dropped her off just outside the gates of the mansion. Yet she’d been the one to end it, explaining through thinly veiled frustration that it just wouldn’t work, that everything would change and none of this could continue. His pushback had only angered her, his attempts to assure her it could in fact work fell on deaf ears. And as she’d all but fled from his car, it was fear he saw in her face. Fear of possibility for what could be.

All of this, along with their months of silence, means he’s probably the last person she’ll expect to see outside her door. Aaron has a feeling she isn’t quite prepared for what is about to be a very unexpected visit. What he also knows is that neither is he.

…

It’s been awhile since he stepped foot on a college campus, and he doesn’t exactly blend in wearing a full suit and dark sunglasses in a sea of jeans and sweatshirts. He ignores the stares he gathers from the small groups of students all over the campus, finding her building with relative ease.

He nods a thanks to the girl holding the door open, quickening his pace just a little. She gives him a once over, lifting an eyebrow at his attire. “Campus security is the other way, you know. You look a little lost.”

“I’m in the right place,” he retorts quickly, brushing past her and up to the third floor. As he climbs the stairs with a slight burn in his lungs from the exertion, Aaron remembers Emily complaining about that three story climb over the summer, and the memory of her, warm in his arms, almost makes him smile. Almost. But she most likely has no idea he’s coming; it’s impossible to tell what her reaction will be. Anger? Indifference? But by now he’s standing outside her door, and it’s too late to turn back.

Aaron knocks three times, crisp and precise, then waits a few perfunctory moments. No answer. He knocks again, this time a little more insistent, and he hears a soft grunt, a muffled voice from behind the door. What he doesn’t expect is what he sees when the door swings open. A guy, about her age give or take, blinks away the confusion from his eyes, his defenses rising immediately. He’s clearly not expecting visitors, and Aaron, half expecting him to close the door in his face, briefly wonders if he has the right room.

319. It’s right, and this just got significantly more awkward, even as a small bubble of jealousy rises in his throat, one that takes him by surprise. “Who the hell are you?” Aaron asks, instinctively propping the door open with his foot.

“Name’s Rob.” There’s a cigarette in his hand; the room smells like an ashtray and slightly of stale wine, even though it’s the middle of the day. He flicks his eyes over Aaron’s suit and scoffs with an air of arrogance. “What are you, some kind of cop or something?”

“I’m here for -”

“Aaron? What are you doing here?” Emily suddenly pops up behind Rob out of nowhere, looking just as surprised, and slightly embarrassed as realization dawns on her face. “Tell me my mother did not send you here.”

Rob visibly tenses at the mention of the Ambassador. “Your mom’s got the cops chasing you now? I thought you said she wouldn’t find out about  -”

Emily’s cheeks flush as she rolls her eyes, taking a sideways look at Aaron. “He’s not a cop, Rob. He just works for her.”

“Basically the same thing, right? You said she basically had her own secret service. You know this guy?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighs with frustration. “I know him.”

Aaron shifts from foot to foot, staring between them both. Being here suddenly feels invasive; he wishes he would have never said yes to this in the first place. It’s clear nothing has changed between Emily and her mother, and everything has changed between the two of them. She’s clearly moved on. Maybe it’s best to make this as detached as possible - a business transaction, no emotions or feelings. “I’m your ride home. Start packing.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Emily narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Just following orders.” He scans the room - the counter is littered with empty cans and cups, a deck of cards strewn over the desk in a corner, an ashtray full of cigarettes. “How soon do you think you can be ready to leave?”

“Leave? What about tonight?” Rob cuts in. “Brian and Dan got bottle service tonight. I thought you were going to bring that hot friend of yours. Dan wants to meet her.”

“Bottle service?” Aaron says incredulously, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Rob’s face. “You do know she’s underage, right?” He doesn’t have to look at Emily to know that is enough to set her off, and she shoots him a look that could cut glass.

“Listen man,” Rob begins, swaying on his feet. “I don’t know who you are but -”

“I’m  the guy who's going to kick you out-” Aaron begins tersely.

“Just go, Rob. Please just … go.” Emily snaps, presses her fingertips to her eyes, the heat rising to her face like two blood red stains on her cheeks. “I’ll … I’ll call you once I figure this out. Just go without me.”

“Or just ditch your babysitter.” He scoffs but still leans in closer, all but towering over her. Aaron doesn’t miss the way Emily recoils when Rob kisses her cheek. He reminds him of the type of guy who would go from her room straight into another girl’s without a second thought, say all the same things and no one will be the wiser. But the door shuts, leaving them alone for the first time in months. Aaron shoves his hands in his suit pockets and stares out the window as Emily sneers.

“Does your life revolve around embarrassing me now?”  she huffs, looping her hair behind her ear, shoes obnoxiously clunking against the floor as pulls a suitcase from under her bed. “Because if so, you’re doing a real bang-up job.”

“No. My job,” he says, placing emphasis on the word, “is getting you back home like I was ordered to do.”

“So they sent you this time?” She sighs, dumping some empty cups into the trash. “Why am I not surprised?” It’s mid afternoon but she looks exhausted, and Aaron wonders if she even got any sleep at all the night before.

“I’m just following orders,” he says again, following her with his eyes as Emily starts tossing clothes into a bag. There’s no thought to her packing process; she opens drawers and slams them shut, pulling out clothes with a little too much force.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks a little more softly this time, keeping space between them both.

“No.”

As expected.

“You can tell me, you know.”

“Nothing happened,” she says crisply, zipping her suitcase shut. But she doesn’t look at him, which confirms that something definitely happened.

“Then why am I here?”

“Aaron,” Emily says almost teasingly, as if any memory of the last time they spoke has seemingly evaporated from her mind. “This is certainly not the first time my mother has sent one of you up here to come get me for some reason or another. It certainly won’t be the last.”

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for her to go to.” From the tone of his voice it’s clear he doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You have met her right? The only person my mother cares about is herself. And her career. She doesn’t care who else is inconvenienced by that.”

He can’t argue with her, and decides to drop it for the time being. There’s a five hour car ride awaiting them; plenty of time to peel her walls down. “If we don’t leave soon we’re going to hit rush hour,” he says patiently, checking his watch. “The sooner we get back, the better.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, finishing the last of her packing. But finally Emily meets his stare, and for the first time since he arrived, offers a smile. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

This time, he almost believes her.

...

“So, who’s your friend?” Aaron asks casually, a half hour into their five hour trip. She’s hardly said a word since taking the passenger seat; her only request was to stop at the gas station for coffee and a pile of sugary candy that she’s started to work her way through. “Rob?”

His question gets the shortest of laughs from Emily as she tips her sunglasses down her nose. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.” Yet she gives nothing else, and he knows he has to push her a little harder.

“He’s kind of an ass,” Aaron says without taking his eyes off the road. “You hang around him a lot?”

“Why?” She challenges, less out of anger rather than amusement. She’s known this question was coming since the minute she saw him standing in the door. “Are you jealous or something?”

He says nothing, only turns his head to stare at her. “Answer my question.”

“Sometimes.” Emily picks at the seam of a bag of peach rings, her eyes on her lap. “You’re not wrong, though, in your assessment.”

“And yet you still hang around him?” He doesn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. “Seems like bad news. Is he the reason why I’m here?”

“You’re worried,” she says quietly, crossing and recrossing her legs. “I can tell.”

“Of course I’m worried, Emily. I’m fucking worried to say the least. Can you blame me?”

“You shouldn’t. It’s under control.” Her silence is telling, an indicator that the conversation is over as she pointedly turns to face the window. Aaron swallows in frustration, knowing he pushed a little too far.

Connecticut turns into New York, the miles already starting to blend together in the tense quiet. As the traffic thickens and the SUV comes to a stop, the George Washington bridge looming in the distance, Emily speaks for the first time in more than an hour.

“Aaron?” She says hesitantly, her bottom lip between her teeth with worry. “Can you keep a secret?”

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Carefree Highway (1/2)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, Mild Violence, Blood, Mean Bo

Description: You accidently let a victim escape and Bo has it out for you. You’re sure that no one can rescue you from his rage. 

You sat trembling on the bottom steps on the front porch of the Sinclair home. The sun set hours ago and all the brothers were still out chasing after a stray tourist. All her friends had been taken care of, but she managed to elude all of you. It was quite possible she made it out of town and it was your fault.

You were washing dishes in the kitchen, hoping to avoid the unpleasant scenes outside. You heard the door crash open and wild footsteps skid to a halt at the entrance to the kitchen. Startled, you turned to find an unfamiliar woman, chest heaving and panic lighting her eyes. Your eyes never left her as your hands fumbled for a small knife to defend yourself. You clutched the blade with both hands in a shaking grip,

“S-stay back!” your voice cracking, conviction breaking as it did.

The woman put her hands up in defense, but she could see right through you. You both knew you weren’t going to use that knife on her. You didn’t have the guts. Whatever killer instinct the others had, you lacked; or she’d already be dead. She took a step toward you and then another. You didn’t move. She looked you right in the eyes neither scared nor angry. You were almost sure what you saw in her eyes was pity. With every step she took, you thought surely you could do this. You had to do it. With just one quick lunge this would be over. It would be quick and easy. But the closer she came, the more you could see the freckles on her cheeks and the brown in her green eyes. You couldn’t do it.

As she was almost past you, another set of booming footsteps approached. Bo crashed into the kitchen to see you holding a laughably small knife to his prey. He paused to see what you would do. He’d told you it was time to start pulling your weight. This was your chance to prove your worth.

“The hell are you waiting for? Gut her!” Bo hissed. Your eyes darted between him and the woman in front of you as air got caught in your throat. Your chest tightened as the blood rushing in your ears drowned out all other sounds and thoughts. Overwhelmed, you suddenly backed yourself against the counter, gasping for breath as the knife fell to the floor. Your hands moved to cover your ears in an effort to silence the chaos in your head. The woman wasted not a single second before bolting past you to the door toward her escape. Bo’s eyes snapped to her as he gave chase.

Bo sprinted after her, but as soon as he was out the door, she was nowhere in sight. He stormed back into the house. He grabbed your arms in a bruising grip.

“Why the hell didn’t you kill her? She was standing right in front of you! You had one job! What good are you if you can’t even do one fuckin’ thing right?” Bo seethed, shaking you back and forth, nails digging deeper into your flesh with every word, “Now we gotta turn the place upside down and hope that bitch doesn’t make it outside the city ‘fore we find her. You better pray Lester’s actually drivin’ ‘round the edge of town like he’s supposed to because if she gets away, it’s gonna be you that’s takin’ her place. You got that?”

Bo finally released his hold and let you sink to the floor in a pile of tears. He scoffed as he rolled his eyes at your pathetic state. He stalked out of the home to begin his search for the woman you let escape.

Now, all you could do was wait to suffer Bo’s wrath. You didn’t mean to let her go and make things difficult. You really tried to help. You sincerely wanted to contribute to the town, but you just couldn’t do it the same way Bo and Vincent did. You weren’t a killer and you knew now that you could never be one. You were sure that Bo knew this. You began to fear that even if they found the woman, he would still kill you. If you ran, he’d catch you. There was no escaping Bo’s rage, not when you were the cause of all his problems. No one could protect you from the hell he was about to rain down on you. Your hands still cradled your head and you rocked back and forth, trying to quell the dread in your stomach.

You were so ashamed as your thoughts moved to Lester, patrolling the edge of town. You didn’t mean to bring him into this. He had become your closest, dearest friend within just days of meeting him. He’d been nothing but kind and considerate to you and you put him in danger. What if he got hurt? What if Bo took his anger out on him too? Your heart sank thinking about how you knew Lester didn’t like partaking in his brothers’ schemes much more than you, even if he didn’t say it. Now, your inaction had likely forced him to take part whether he wanted to or not.

Off in the distance, you could see headlights making their way up toward the house. You held your breath as Bo’s truck came to a violent halt. He threw his door open and slammed it shut behind him. He was alone. She escaped and now you were dead.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself!” Bo hissed as he ripped you up from the stairs and threw you back onto the gravel, “You happy with this fuckin’ mess you made? All of this coulda been avoided if you just did what I said! But you couldn’t even do that, could you? What the hell are we doin’ keepin’ you ‘round if you’re not gonna help ‘round here? Fuckin’ useless waste!” Bo grabbed you by your collar and forced you to look him in his cold, soulless eyes.  

“P-please, Bo! I didn’t mean to do this! I’m sorry!” you pleaded as burning tears rapidly cascaded down your cheeks. “I never meant for this to happen!”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand it here, so you let that slut go so she could send someone to rescue you! You wanted this to happen! You want me and my brothers locked up in a cell or dead! Say it!” Bo shouted, suddenly reeling back to hit you. You screwed your eye shut, bracing yourself, but the pain never came. You opened your eyes to see Vincent tugging on Bo’s shoulder, “What? No luck, I take it?”

“No.” Vincent murmured, releasing Bo’s shoulder. Bo lowered his hand, but still kept your shirt in an iron tight grip.

“That’s alright, I got another pretty little thing to take her place. Don’t I?” Bo said menacingly as he stroked your cheek, the poison in his words sending chills down your spine. You sent a pleading look at Vincent, silently begging him not to let Bo do this, but he cast his gaze to the side. There was no standing up to Bo, not now. “Let that bitch tell the pigs if she wants. We ain’t goin’ nowhere. Ain’t no one gonna save you.”

The sound of another truck pulling up the hill stopped Bo from saying anymore. All three of you turned to see Lester’s truck rolling up. Beyond his headlights, you could see the shadow of his head popping out from his window,

“Sorry I took so long!” he called. His cheery drawl cut through the violent atmosphere, allowing you to breathe a small sigh of relief. Lester was here. You always felt safer when he was nearby. “It took a while to get her in the truck and she kicked up fuss when she realized I was bringin’ her back.”

“The hell are ya on about?” Bo snapped, releasing your collar, letting you fall back onto the gravel. He moved towards Lester’s truck. The youngest Sinclair hopped out and opened up the passenger door to reveal the woman who you let escape, unconscious.

“The girl you was lookin’ for! I found her tryin’ to hitch a ride. Told her I was gonna take her to a hospital.” Lester said, “She clocked me pretty good, though. I laid on the brakes a little too hard and she hit her head on the dash.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Shit-pit boy did somethin’ right, for once.” Bo smirked. Lester’s smile faltered as his shoulders slumped at Bo’s backhanded compliment. Bo began to haul the woman out of the truck, “Vincent come take care of her.” Vincent moved to take the woman from Bo and effortlessly threw her over his shoulder. He made his way back to the basement without another word.

Lester immediately moved to where you were still on the ground and offered you a helping hand. He gently helped you to your feet, your eyes still glued to the ground. Truthfully, he had been worried about you. When Bo told him about what happened, he made it his mission to find the missing woman. He couldn’t let Bo punish you for this. You didn’t deserve it. He drove in endless circles until he finally found her. Even if he hated doing his brother’s bidding, he would do all of it without question if it meant protecting you from Bo’s rage. He dusted you off and rested a hand on your shoulder, concern cutting through his usually carefree exterior,

“Ya alright, Y/N?” Lester asked softly. You nodded ever so slightly as you wiped at your eyes, unable to trust your voice, “Everythin’s okay. Don’t gotta cry anymore.”

“Oh, I’ll give her plenty to cry ‘bout. This is her fault after all.” Bo hollered as he turned to where you were standing, “Christ, look at your fuckin’ face.”

“C’mon, Bo.” Lester said, barely audible. You moved your hands from your eyes to look at Lester for the first time. You gasped at his bloody nose. Before Lester could say anything, Bo snapped his eyes toward you,

“Ya see what that little bitch did! Ya let her get away and she attacks my brother!”

“Bo, don’t…” Lester pleaded, unheard once again.  

“I’m sorry! I just can’t do it, Bo! I’m not like you, I can’t kill anyone! Please don’t make me! I’ll do anything else!” you begged. Bo stalked toward you. With every step he took, you retreated, terrified to take your eyes off of him.

“I don’t wanna hear any fuckin’ excuses. You put my family on the line. ‘Sorry’ ain’t gonna cut it. You’re gonna regret lettin’ that slut go. You got my brother decked across the face so I’m gonna smack you a hell of a lot harder than that.” Bo seethed. He prepared to lunge at you, fists tightening, nostrils flaring like the predator he truly was, “You’re gonna pay, you little-”

“STOP IT, BO!” Lester shouted, forcing himself in front of you, stopping Bo in his tracks. You’d never heard Lester raise his voice before; and from the look on Bo’s face, neither had he. A dangerous silence fell over the scene. Bo could hardly fathom anyone challenging him, much less Lester.

“The hell did you say to me?” Bo hissed. Lester nearly gulped at his brother’s tone, but he took a shaky breath instead. No way was he going to win this fight, but he spoke anyway.

“I said stop.” He nervously reaffirmed, “It ain’t her fault. Let it go. Please.”

“Since when you tell me what to do?” Bo glowered with a snarl.

“I ain’t tryin’ to tell anyone anythin’. Just don’t want no one else gettin’ hurt, is all. ‘Sides, she said she was sorry, Bo. It was an accident. You don’t gotta do this.” Lester said with only the slightest tremor in his voice. You cowered behind him, astounded at his bravery but fearing for his life.

Bo shifted his eyes between you and Lester, trying to decide his next move. He fixed his gaze on Lester as he slowly moved to circle around to get to you. It seemed like more of an attempt to test his brother than to harm you. Lester felt crushed under the weight of Bo’s prolonged glare, but still he matched each of his steps, blocking his brother’s path to you. Bo stopped and smirked, chilling you to your core.

“You’re really gonna protect her after all the trouble she’s caused?” Bo asked, almost amused at Lester’s display. Lester rolled back his shoulders and straightened his spine. He wasn’t going to back down this time, no matter how much Bo scared him. His brow was furrowed for the first time you’d known him. He was serious and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“She ain’t caused any more trouble than any of us cause each other half the time. Ya used to hit me upside the head and give me bloody noses every other week when we was kids. Don’t make like this is anythin’ to get heated over.” Lester argued, “No one escaped, we’re all in one piece, and the cops ain’t any wiser. So, leave her alone.” Lester demanded. He met Bo’s icy glare, shaking like a leaf tossed in front of a locomotive, but standing his ground nonetheless. If Bo wasn’t livid, he might’ve been impressed. He scoffed as he looked over Lester’s shoulder, right at you.

“You better consider yourself real fuckin’ lucky that my brother decided to grow a pair.” Bo warned, “But he won’t always be here to protect you from me. You fuck up again and no one will be able to. Got that?” you silently nodded, frozen in place behind Lester.

Bo shoved his way past Lester and back into the house. Not taking any chances, Lester followed along, herding Bo away from you. Bo glared at the two of you over his shoulder before slamming the door to punctuate his exit.

With that, Lester exhaled the breath he’d been holding the entire time as his shoulders slumped forward in relief. If Bo had started swinging, he had no idea what he was going to do. His smile returned as he sighed once again,

“Whew, that sure was somethin’, wasn’t it?” he said, turning to face you. You didn’t respond. With the tension broken, you broke too. You buried your face in your hands, sobs ripping through your lungs, ugly and raw. Lester fumbled for a way to help you, “C’mon now, shh, it’s alright. Bo ain’t gonna hurt ya, I swear. His bark’s worse than his bite. Mostly.”

“I’m s-sorry…” you managed to force out between desperate gasps for air. Lester looked at you sympathetically. He put a clumsy arm over your shoulders and moved you to sit on the stairs next to him.

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry! I know it was just an accident!” Lester soothed as he rubbed your shoulder. He felt helpless, he just wanted to make you feel better but he didn’t know what to say, “Everyone messes up! Take it from me! Once when me, Bo, and Vincent, was out catchin’ fish for dinner, I tripped and knocked the whole bucket back into the lake! Bo nearly skinned me alive for that! I had to spend the rest of night catchin’ fish by myself in the cold!”  

His anecdote, though appreciated, was left without a response. He knew there was no cheering you up right now. You just had to let it out. He let out a sad sigh as he drew you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your frame in a warm hug, the way he wished someone held him when he cried growing up. As you continued to sob into your hands, Lester comforted you as best as he could, offering little reassurances here and there. He let you cry to your heart’s content, keeping you company through the storm. Eventually, your cries died down into small hiccups, but you still kept your face obstructed by your hands. Lester squeezed your shoulder,

“Ya alright, Y/N?” he asked gently.

“No. I’m so sorry, Lester. I’m a mess and I don’t know what to do.” you whimpered. You’d never been more afraid. If Lester hadn’t stepped in, you weren’t sure you would still be breathing right now. “You’re hurt and Bo’s so angry…”

“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout me none. It looks a lot worse than it feels. And look – the bleedin’ already stopped! Look!” Lester gently coaxed you to look up at him. You dropped your hands from your eyes to see Lester with his classic goofy smile, beaming through the dried blood. You winced at the damage, but couldn’t contain a small smile at Lester’s unrestrained optimism, “I think she did me a favor. Got me a nose job and didn’t even have to pay nothin’.”

“Lester!” you tried to scold him, but you couldn’t stop from laughing. Only Lester could make you laugh when you had been crying your heart out. The icy daggers left by Bo’s unforgiving glower were swiftly melted away by Lester’s sweet brown eyes, radiating warmth like whiskey.

“There’s that smile. Now, don’t that feel better? Suits ya better.” Lester said grinning ear to ear. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a mostly clean bandana. He carefully wiped at your eyes to dry the stray tears still running down your cheeks. Your heart jumped in your chest as he did this. Your eyes closed involuntarily, cherishing his gentleness after being treated so roughly. Even after the signs of your sadness had been scrubbed away, he continued rubbing all over your face to continue teasing some laughter out of you, “Hang on, think I missed a spot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m not sad anymore! I surrender, Lester!” you said through your laughter. Lester smiled as he handed the bandana over to you,

“That’s more like it.” He said “Sorry about the bandana, I’d give ya a tissue, but this is all I got. Ya can hold on to it though, case ya need it again.”

“Thanks, Lester. For everything. You don’t know how much it means.” You said, clutching the piece of fabric in your hands. You glanced up at him, taking in his bloody face you decided to return the favor. You gingerly moved to wipe the dried blood from under his nose, careful not to hurt him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His eyes fixated on your face as you tended to him, awestruck. His pupils were blown looking at you and his heart skipped about fifty beats at your touch. He wanted to say you didn’t have to do this, but he stopped himself. Just once he wanted to be selfish with the care you were offering. When you succeeded in removing most of the blood, you tucked the bandana in your pocket, “I’ll clean this up and get it back to you.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Lester said dreamily. You both sat in contented silence for a moment before Lester spoke up, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” you asked curiously. Lester stood and offered his hand once again.

“You’ll love it, trust me!” He said. You didn’t need any more than that.

[bozowrites]

Dare to Care

Imagine

↳ There is always going to be a drift in society and no one can fix it. 

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki × Fem!Reader

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 1 // more to come...

A/n: I have a lot of asks but I got rlly inspired to write this last night. It’ll be multiple parts so if u actually like this u can be added to the taglist, just comment or dm me or whatever. Love you, darlings! 💞

In our society, there are separations whether we like them or not. There is absolutely nothing you can do about it. And that’s what sucks. I want nothing more than to patch up the hole that was put between us and them. To fix the broken world that we’ve come to call home. It isn’t home. Nowhere is home when all is broken around you, and I’ve come to terms with that.  

There are the heroes, the civilians and the villains. Then there’s the rich, the middle-class and the poor. Simple words can create a huge drift in society.  

Some think they are above others for the simple fact they have a title. A hero. A well-known hero that all love and adore. And then some rich think they are better for the reason is they have money; they have the power to do whatever they want because of that money. Money buys you the things you need, even love, apparently.  

I grew up to solely believe this. I was beneath them and they were above all. I worked for what I needed as they got handed their things on silver platters.  

My mother worked two jobs on minimum wage every day and made just enough to pass us buy. Some stood pretty for a camera and made thousands—millions even! It’s ridicules, really. Or, maybe, that's just jealousy speaking.  

All I want is to be known as someone for working hard and give my single, hard-working mom, a break. To rest and never stress again. To take care of her. To never let her fear of being too little for me. I want to be her hero.  

“How many times do I have to say it? I didn’t order the this.” The woman of high-class spoke rudely. “I’m sorry, ma'am, but that’s what the receipt and your waiter told me.” Her lips scowl and her growl is more evident. This restaurant is full of people like her. Spoiled brats. “Well your waiter is wrong!” I sighed, losing grip of my temper slowly.

“Perhaps, one of the men behind you ordered it,” I said slowly, gesturing to the three men in matching tuxedos behind her. “You did leave the table to talk with a friend, I do believe. Just enough time for one of them to order something behind your back.” My tone was impatient and I knew this was no way to act, but people like her hit all the wrong nerves.

“Are you using that tone with me? And disrespecting my brothers?!” The pit of anger in the bottom of my stomach started bubbling. She thought she was so much better because her dad owned some company and held high status. She didn’t, just her father. He made the life he did through his hard-work, she just feeds off his hard-earned prize.  

And that’s what disgusts me.  

“Dear, they need you in the kitchen, I’ll take care of the rest.” Miss Masmai said with a gentle hand on my shoulder. She always did that. When someone was angry or upset in any way, she put a hand on their shoulder and spoke with a gentle tone. She was this sweet lady, near her fifties, who worked alongside her brother in this restaurant.  

“Thank you, miss.” I gave a knowing nod and left to the kitchen. It was obvious my anger was rising and Miss Masami knew that. She always saw right through me. I don’t know how, though I wish I did.  

“L/n, get angry again?” My co-corkers always did that. I was known to get angry quickly. I’d accepted that a long time ago, though it doesn’t feel good hearing people say it constantly. “Shut it, Tsukishima.” The tall blonde only smirked and continued away at cooking.  

My body felt exhausted. It was hard being an adult. I knew that since I was just a little girl. I didn’t get to play house and make endless friends—no—I spent every night crying in bed, hearing my mom mutter through the thin walls of how to pay the bills, how to feed me, how to get through the next month. It was painful. I always felt the drift between society and me grow. My life became consumed by the thoughts of suffering and never getting by. I let my little mind think that money divided everyone, I still believe it. Most people I meet do too.  

“L/n, can I speak to you?” I glanced over to Mister Masami. He has this dark glare. Unlike his sister, he holds no patience and doesn’t believe in second chances. Because of his sister, and only because of her, I’ve lasted as long as I have. He says I have anger issues. I don’t. It’s my lack of social skills mixed with bottled up fear and frustration.  

“Mister Masami? How may I help you?” I asked nicely, though he and I both know it was forced. He and I were never on good terms. “You’ve reached your last straw, you’re fired. They are important people who visit nearly every week, and you disrespected them.” I scowled. “Fine. Have a nice day, Mister Masami.” As I take off the black apron and toss it at him, I muttered, “Asshole.” He doesn’t respond, but I know he’s biting his tongue to re-frame from doing so.  

As I leave through the backdoor, I can hear some co-workers chuckling and talking among themselves happily. I didn’t know if it was over my leave or for something completely different. It didn’t matter, really.

It’s nearly midnight when I finish my shift at the local café by my apartment. I work three jobs (well two now), never really having time to myself. That’s the life of a poor adult, I guess. When I reached the age to be able to work, I did. Mom didn’t like it, of course she didn’t, but it wasn’t up to her. I wanted to help. She needed my help.  

There’s a sudden cold chill in the air. I’ve walked this path a million times before and I’ve never had this fear to walk this way. The sudden uncomfortable atmosphere around me is frightening. I glanced around, only seeing the dark streets. There were only three lampposts here and each was dime, giving only small portions of light. Even the street lamps in this poor area sucked.  

“Fuck you heroes!” A voice shouted. I felt my whole-body shake. I've seen the news of villain attacks, but I’ve never been in the same area or around long enough to see the action.  

“And fuck you villains!” The supposed hero shouted back. I leant against the brick wall, trying to keep myself hidden. I could see flashes and hear the blasts close by. It was terrifying. The closer the sounds came, the more my body shook. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire neighbourhood woke up, actually, I'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn’t wake up.  

The sudden flashes are crossing my eyes. The small blasts of explosions and the loud voices are ringing in my ears louder. I can feel the heat created by each and individual explosion. I don’t know if it’s the villain or the hero’s quirk, but I didn’t plan on sticking around to find out.

I let my feet run to my apartment as fast as one can, but it wasn’t enough. A cold hand grabbed my arm. I knew it wouldn’t be the hero’s, why would it be? There’s this sudden cold object put to my neck and my vision is set to a blonde staring at the villain and myself with glaring eyes.  

“Let them go, villain.” The tone he sets is cold. I can tell he doesn’t care about me. I mean nothing to a high-status hero. All he wants is to keep his legacy as a hero clean. He saved another helpless civilian, all will say. Doesn’t make him good. There could be so many other things the press and public don’t know, but all they care to see is the heroism he displays. Makes me sick.  

“Why would I? I think her blood would look real good in my hands.” Her voice is chilling to the ear and I can feel the breaths she takes. Her fingers are digging into my waist and a knife floats midair in front of my throat. I hate every part of this. Her nails are long, making blood seep through the fabric of my clothes. I can feel the warmness against my skin. It’s not a lot, but enough to hurt.  

I don’t say anything through all the banter they shout at one another. I only stand there and stare at the hero. He doesn’t spare me a glance or show worry. It really says something about himself. He doesn’t care about no one but himself. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but I’ve come to read others through their small actions and words.  

I was so in my head; I hardly felt the gash against my cheek as the blonde hero took the villain down. My mind processed slowly as I saw him pick her off the ground, her mumbles inaudible.  

“You good?” There’s no sympathy in his voice. There’s no care or worry. It was nothing but hero intake. He has to, he was an idol to lots. And what kind of idol doesn’t ask the victim if they’re all right?  

I can only nod wordlessly. Both his and my stare are blank. He still has the villain in his grab, but there’s this shift in the atmosphere. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t take the time to question it.  

“You’re bleeding.” He said, voice rough and toneless. I touch the burning cheek. I didn’t feel the pain at the start, but the more I thought of it, the more it hurt. How did I get cut? When? Why? “Oh,” I see the blood on my fingers. My side begins to hurt too. I remember the nails and blood. I don’t think he knows and that doesn’t bother me.  

I shrugged and said, “Uh, thanks. Bye.” I turned, having nothing left to say. I know he’s staring at me. I can feel the burn of his eyes on my head. He’s probably questioning me silently.

Why didn’t I fawn over him? Why didn’t I praise him? Why didn’t I stay to speak?

Most heroes get so into it, they forget the reason they became a hero. To save people, they say at the start. But, in the end, they want the praise and only the praise. When they don’t get what they desire, things don’t always go well for those around them.  

[sweets-r-cool]

Sleepless

(Bakugo x reader)

 In which you find yourself rendered unable to sleep because a certain explosive blonde seems a little too close to Ochaco for your liking...

...crackhead hours bring crackhead thoughts 💀

You let out a grunt of frustration, aggressively turning over as your leg kicked off the remaining part of blanket that stayed on your body. 

You grumbled, finally sitting up in bed with a hand gripping your hair. Your head hurt. No, it pounded with a migraine. Most likely caused by overuse of your quirk.

Well, that was what you wanted to think. In reality, it was probably because of that stupid hoe, Bakugo Katsuki. You hadn’t been able to sleep lately for the past couple of nights because of him.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t a hoe some could beg to differ, and Ochaco was definitely a catch. It was just- you didn’t like how it sounded to you. Sure, it might’ve been because you’ve liked Bakugo since- forever, but it was also at least because they didn’t seem right for each other! 

You stood up from bed with a deep scowl, surely not too far of from Bakugo’s. Maybe a glass of water would help your aching mind, and maybe the cold air of the common room and hallway would help you feel a little more calm.

A glass and a half of water and (15) fifteen minutes later, you were still frustrated. You knew everyone else would probably be asleep, so there was no one to rant to. You decided there were other ways of getting your pent up anger out.

Committing a felony, breaking shit, yelling, but all of those were too loud and would wake up the others. Going to the gym room and punching one of the punching bags until you felt better would have to suffice. 

You glanced at the clock.3:57 AM. 

Huh...

Whatever, you’d sleep when you were dead, tomorrow was already today. Did it even matter if you slept at this point? If the gym door was locked, was there a way to break it down without waking anyone up?

You shrugged, it was crackhead hours. Anything goes at this point. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t the only crackhead one awake at this time on a school night. You could tell, seeing as the lights in the gym were as blinding as always. The gym wasn’t big, since it was only for the class 1-A dorm building, so it didn’t take long for you to lock on to the muscular figure angrily punching the same punching bag you were planning to murder.

It seemed it would already be murdered by the time the person punching it (currently) was done. 

You paused, realizing there was only one person who’d beat up a punching bag that way. You also had eyes, noticing the spiky ash blonde locks in motion.

Sweat rolled off Bakugo’s brow and he repositioned himself, continuing in his assault towards the punching bag. You leaned against the door frame, not thinking to speak but instead simply watch. You weren’t sure it’d be a good idea to converse with the angry gremlin, not only when you were both frustrated but also tired as shit yet unable to sleep. 

You crossed your arms, watching Bakugo’s back muscles flexing underneath his black tank top. 

You didn’t know how long had passed, but either way, you flinched in surprise when Bakugo paused to reach for his towel and spoke, “The hell are you doing awake, dumbass?” 

You didn’t even see his eyes glance at you, yet you knew he knew it was you, considering ‘dumbass’ seemed to be your designated insult nickname from him.

You inhaled, thinking of an answer but instead settled for; “I could ask you the same thing.”

Bakugo scoffed, wiping sweat from his neck onto the towel, “What does it look like?”  

“Uhh...” you trailed off, “Teaching the punching bag what happens when it looks at you wrong.”

Bakugo deadpanned. “Why does your mind work in such an idiotic way?”  He said, taking a gulp of water from his bottle. You took note of the fact he came down to the gym prepared, just because it was something you randomly noticed and your brain liked to remember dumb things like this instead of formulas or seemingly endless number of hero laws.

“Hmm...” you thought, looking up to the ceiling as if your answer would be written there, “Can I get back to you on that one? I think I could come up with an answer eventually.” 

Bakugo scoffed again with a roll of his eyes.

“Anyways,” you began, “What’s up? You seem angry- well, more than usual.” you corrected yourself.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re down here, and maybe I’ll consider telling a dumbass like you the answer,” Bakugo stated rather than asked.

“Well, believe it or not, I was here to blow off some stream, much like yourself... I think.” You pushed off the door frame, walking towards him, and smirked leaning forward, “Thought this was better than tattooing ‘Lysol’ on Kaminari’s forehead while he slept.”

Bakugo turned slightly, trying and failing to conceal a chuckle, which only made your face redden and also make you laugh. “I think he’d be Lysol Face instead of Dunce Face after that,” you added, which only made you want to laugh harder when Bakugo couldn’t hold it back this time and let out a genuine laugh.

You weren’t sure if you stared, but you definitely did keep your blinking to a minimum watching the usually angry scowling blonde laugh his ass off at a joke you made. Some part of you felt your pride swell, Ochaco never made him laugh like that. 

Bakugo finally was able to catch his breath, some how, it was harder to be angry around you for him. He didn’t know why, but whenever you weren’t around and he thought about it, it only rnade him more angry. Ironic, he knew. Thinking about it, you were the reason he was in the gym punching the bag until his fists hurt. 

“Why the fuck would you put Lysol? How the hell would you even tattoo it onto him?” Bakugo wondered aloud.

You winked, bringing a finger to your mouth implicating to keep the secret you weren’t going to tell, “I have my ways.” With that, you moved away from him, opting to sit on some of the nearby equipment as you continued talking about whatever.  

“So,” you began again, “Why’re you more angry than usual?”

Technically, Bakugo didn’t have to say anything. You never answered his question about why you were angry, just why you were here with him. He didn’t entirely mind your presence, only another thing Bakugo would never tell you. 

Bakugo hesitated,”There’s just this person.” He turned after putting his stuff down, deciding he’d do some push ups now.

You crossed your legs, watching as he moved, “What did this person do to make you mad?”

He hesitated again, pausing with his arms straightened beneath him. He might end up regretting this... “I’m not jealous, because I’m not a shithead,” he began as you nodded along, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “I guess I sort of care about this person, and lately, she’s been hanging around other guys.” 

You jaw clenched as despair seemed to form a pit at the bottom of your stomach.You wanted to groan, was he talking about Ochaco? You’d never heard him admit he cared about anyone, so whoever he was talking about must be the girl he likes. Was it Ochaco?

God, you kind of really hoped it wasn’t. Ochaco was a friend, but one you wouldn’t want to date Bakugo. Probably because you also didn’t want anyone else but you to date him.

At the same time, something in you felt a little glad. Bakugo was more honest about how he felt around you. Of course, had anyone else been in the room he’d probably go back to his little edgy self and stay silent at your questions. 

“...So, you’re jealous?” you said, maintaining your usual composure. Ochaco mainly hung around Deku, Todoroki, and Iida. It made sense if he was angry about her hanging around Deku, if he liked Ochaco... 

You shook the thoughts out of your head before the feelings would begin to seep through. 

“No!” Bakugo shouted angrily as he stood up, deciding to just pack up at this point, “She hangs around Shitty Hair really often and I just feel like-” Bakugo groaned angrily, turning away from you, not bothering to finish his sentence. 

So much for him showing how he felt around you.

But, did Ochaco ever hang around Kirishima? You sighed, “Well, personally, I think she might be missing a few or more brain cells if she’d rather hang out with someone else than you.” 

You thought some more. The words you said were kind of mean, and Bakugo had remained silent so he probably didn’t like what you said. Aside from that, Ochaco barely ever talked to Kirishima! Only out of necessity, you were confused. That was something you knew for a fact, because you hung around Kirishima all the time! 

He was playing wingman and also your designated person to vent to so-

Wait-

Bakugo grabbed his water bottle and towel, heading for the door, a smirk evident on his face. “By your logic, if a dumbass is missing a few or more brain cells, then yeah. She must be.”

Dumbass...?

Part 2

[twomoonstwosuns]

spring break.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader 

warnings: alcohol, fluff

word count: 3.3k

a/n: YA GIRL’S GOING TO WORK ON TUESDAY. Fair warning: updates may slow down since I don’t get to sit around and write all day, but I’ll try my best to not let it slow down. my store is going out of business so I don’t know how long I’ll be working for exactly. 

[the song] thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for finding it!

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

Crystal blue waters and luscious green palm trees welcomed you from the moment you stepped out of the airport in Cabo San Lucas, a stark difference to the dreary winter days you’d seen for months on end. The warm, windy air engulfed you and you were more relaxed than you’d felt in months. You were ready for endless days lounging on the beach or in the pool, fruity alcoholic beverages at your beck and call. You didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone except what fun thing you wanted to do that day. 

The only thing missing from your perfect paradise was Poe. 

It had been awhile since you’d gone a week without seeing Poe, dating back to Christmas break at the start of your sexual relationship when you were away from school and both busy with the holidays. You had said goodbye in his office after his last class the day before you left, the trading of kisses making his pre-arranged cab driver almost leave without him. 

By the time you landed in Cabo, it was late afternoon. Rose had been the first to arrive, checking into the room you had reserved and walking around the resort to find out where everything was. Jannah arrived next, and she and Rose were ready to go out by the time you got to the hotel. You caught up while you got ready, taking a quick shower to get the airplane smell off of you and changing into a dress and sandals. 

The resort was huge. Two big pools with swim-up bars, multiple lounge chairs surrounded by palm trees, and the beach with multiple campfire pits just a short walk away. Rose led you to a courtyard between the hotel’s buildings where a bar and a DJ was set up. There were tables and people were dancing in the open space. 

“Find a table, first round’s on me!” Jannah yelled, disappearing into the crowd towards the bar. Rose points at a high table next to the bar and you rush over before anyone else can claim it. Jannah came back with an armful of shots. She passed two to you and Rose and held one up. 

“To graduating college and entering the world as real adults.”

You downed the shots with ease, the alcohol burning just slightly in your throat. It had been too long since you had seen your best friends, each of you working tirelessly towards graduation.

Rose had lived down the block from you since you were five years old and it wasn’t until middle school that you became friends with Jannah. You experienced it all together - the dances, the heartbreaks, the victories, and the hardships. Three different colleges would keep you apart for the next chapter after high school, but you made sure you were able to get together even if just for a few hours every break. 

You were inseparable. Jannah was wild and loud, Rose practical and quiet, and you were in a little bit of both. You were a trio that complimented each other well. 

“So, I have some bad news.” Rose started, but you waved your hand. 

“Later. It’s been a long day, a long semester, and now we’re on vacation. Let’s take this shot and go dance.” On the count of three, you took your second shot of the night, the two shots in succession already teaming up inside your body. 

Lights bounced off the buildings and the palm trees, the bass of the speakers booming into the silence of the night. Sweaty bodies bumped into you but no one cared. Life was carefree at the moment. A dark-haired man came up behind Jannah and started dancing with her, his arms going on her hips. She looked between you and Rose and you both gave her a nod that told her to go ahead and dance with the handsome stranger. 

“I’m going to get another drink, do you want one?” You yelled at Rose, who shook her head and kept dancing as you made your way to the bar. Looking around while the bartender made your drink, you took notice of the way the lights illuminated the outline of the palm trees and the ocean. It was picturesque, exactly like an image you’d see in a brochure. 

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?”

A sandy-haired, green-eyed man slid into the open seat next to you, waving down the bartender with a wave of his hand. You shook your head. 

“My friends are on the dance floor somewhere.”

“And you didn’t want to join them?”

“I was out there for a bit and now I’m here getting a drink,” you said, swirling around the liquid in your cup. “And I’m a little tired. Dancing, flying, and classes really takes a lot out of a girl.”

“You still went to your classes today? Good for you.” You laughed as the man stuck his hand out and you shook it. “Ethan.”

“Y/N.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You down the rest of your drink and shrug. “If you want.”

Ethan waved down the bartender again and pointed to your empty cocktail glass. You almost felt bad for this guy because you knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of this conversation except an extra drink on his tab. You were being friendly as you were with everyone, but you had a feeling he was going to take it as flirting and you’d have to deal with him getting mad at rejection. 

“So, are you graduating soon?” Ethan asked. 

“In May. You?”

“In the winter. I had some credits that got mixed up and I need one more semester to sort everything out.”

“No shame in that.” 

He asked about your major, why you chose it and what plans you had after school. He seemed genuinely interested in your answers, but you knew it was probably an act to try and pick you up. He ordered you another drink when you got to the bottom of yours and then leaned in closer than he had been, placing his hand next to yours on the countertop. 

“Do you want to take these drinks and get out of here? Maybe go walk on the beach or go somewhere else less crowded?”

You fought the urge to smile. It seems like so long ago that Poe had said something similar to you at a bar, and when you replayed it in your head you could still hear the desire so clearly. The memory made you tingle more than the voice in front of you. 

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Is he here?”

“No.”

“Then, why not?” You gave him a look and he chuckled. “Come on, you’re only young once.”

You gave him a tight smile as you slid off seat. 

“Still no. Thanks for the drink.”

With your drink in hand, you headed away from the bar and onto the beach. Removing your sandals, the sand was cool beneath your feet as you walked, a contrast from the heat of the beach campfires around you. You found a vacant campfire, one that had just been abandoned by a couple of other spring breakers. You sat down next to it and let it warm you up from the crisp night air, the crashing of the waves and the crackling of the flames creating a beautiful song. 

Ethan hadn’t been wrong; you were only young once, but there were more ways to enjoy your youth that didn’t involve sleeping around. And to you, Poe was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of guy. You’d rather have him than any of the freedoms of being single. 

“There you are!”

Rose and Jannah walked up to you through the uneven sand, beers in their hands. They sat down across from you, giggling and sitting back into the chairs and fully relaxing for the first time since they landed. 

“Have you become a lightweight?” You asked, seeing Rose giggling over nothing. She nodded and giggled some more and you couldn’t help but laugh at her. “So, what’s your bad news?”

“My graduation time moved, so I don’t get to live stream either of your ceremonies.”

“That’s not bad news!” You exclaimed. “I know live streaming each others ceremonies was our plan since senior year of high school, but it became a lot less realistic as the years went on and we realized all of our schools ran super close to the same schedule.”

“Wait, I have an idea!” Jannah said excitedly, taking a sip of her drink. “We’ll FaceTime before the ceremony and then when we’re all home, we’ll have a big party with all of our friends and family.”

“Yes!” Rose shouted, catching the attention of anyone walking by. “Perfect, lets do that!”

She tiptoed over to Jannah to clink her bottle against hers and then crept over to you to do the same. 

“So,” Jannah said as Rose sat down. “Tell us about this boyfriend. I want to know who you’re ditching us for on Thursday.”

“Hey, you guys said it was ok, I asked you like six times—“

“We are ok with it. She’s just teasing.” Rose said. “Tell us about him.”

“Well, his name is Poe, he’s 32—“

“Alright, Y/N.” Jannah interrupted with a wink. Rose rolled her eyes. 

“—and he’s my professor.”

You hadn’t planned on blurting it out like that. The plan was to tell them all of the amazing things about him before dropping the bomb that he was pretty much forbidden fruit. Rose and Jannah’s mouths dropped and you anxiously braced for a reaction similar to the one you’d gotten from your roommates. 

“Girl!” Jannah exclaimed, a wide smirk on her face as she clapped her hands together. “How the hell did that happen?!”

You shrugged. “It just kind of did. We ran into each other at a bar on Halloween and we were drinking and flirting and then we hooked up.”

“Wow. Y/N L/N, hot for teacher.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I’m being reckless? Stupid? Risking my education for a relationship with age difference?”

“I’m not mad. I’m happy for you! And who cares about age?” Jannah looked over at Rose, who had a look of concern on her face, but no anger. “Rose?”

Rose sighed and looked at you. “I’m not mad. I’m just…you’re being careful, right? I just don’t want this to bite you in the ass.”

“We’re being careful, I promise. We don’t leave his apartment and in public he’s a professor and I’m a student, that’s it. I promise I know what I’m doing.”

“Alright, I trust you.” Rose gave you a soft, reassuring smile. “So, who all knows about you guys?”

“You guys, my roommates, Poe’s best friends, and his dad I hope otherwise he’s going to be totally blindsided when I meet him on Thursday.”

“When did you start dating him?” Jannah asked, moving around the fire to sit next to you. 

“Officially a month ago, but we’d been hooking up every so often since Halloween.”

“Is he nice? Does he treat you right?” Rose asked.

“Yes. He is so kind and considerate and funny. He’s a gentleman. Not always though.”

Jannah and Rose howl with laughter, Jannah patting your leg. 

“Good for you, Y/N. Do you have a picture of him?”

You took out your phone and scrolled through your photos, looking for your favorite picture of Poe. You intended to take a photo of Beebs laying on his back with his paws in the air, fast asleep and Poe had photobombed the picture with a pout. Jannah gasped. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. “Seriously, he’s real?”

You brought up another picture, a cute one of you kissing Poe’s cheek while he smiled widely. Jannah ‘awwed’ and passed the phone to Rose.

“He’s hot.” Rose said, studying the picture before handing it back to you. “So you like him a lot?”

“A lot. A lot,” you said, staring down at the photo of you and him that was also your lock screen. “I’ve dated around, had a few boyfriends, and none of the guys has made me feel like Poe does. Not even close.”

“Do you love him?” Rose asked. You furrowed your brow. 

“I—“ You felt strongly for him, stronger than any guy you’d ever dated, but was it love or just extreme infatuation? And if it was love, could you even feel that after such a short amount of time? “Isn’t there a timeline for that?”

“Not a set one,” Rose said. “If you love him then you love him. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been dating for one month or one year. You fall in love when you fall in love, no one can dictate that for you.”

“She’s right,” Jannah added. “You said you’ve been dating a month but let’s be real, you’ve been dating since Halloween. You just did the sex part first. So technically it’s been five months.”

You didn’t know how to respond, but you didn’t have to when a message popped up on your phone screen and grabbed your attention. Jannah glanced at it. 

“You got a text from Finn. Who’s Finn?”

“Finn is Poe’s best friend.”

You opened the message and saw that he had sent you a video. Pressing play, you could hear the crackle of a campfire similar to the one currently in front of you and the sounds of a guitar being expertly played. The camera shifted to show Poe, who donned a dark flannel that, combined with his dark hair, made is skin glow against the dark backdrop, illuminated by the warmth of the flames.

“Alright, what’re you playing?” Rey’s voice was near the camera, but she wasn’t on the screen. Poe didn’t say anything, instead just continuing to play.

“Who’s the girl?” Jannah asked. 

“His other best friend, Rey.”

“Don’t be shy man, let’s hear it!” Finn shouted. “Sing something, this is for Y/N.”

Poe rolled his eyes at his friends before changing the melody, going from something upbeat to something a little slower. Playing the guitar was like riding a bike for him, something he hadn’t done in a long time but easily picked back up. 

Darling, I don’t mind what they think they’ll find

Of all the secrets they have told, at least I’ve still got you to hold

So darling, I don’t mind

Poe’s voice was smooth like warm honey with a touch of raspiness. He sang with meaning, like he was piercing each word straight into your soul. You had no idea he could sing like that and you added it to the six hundred other things you loved about him. 

Cause I’ll be the one to hold you when the nights are cold

And although I know I told you I will tell you forever more that

Your heart clenched in a way it never had before when Poe made eye contact with the camera and gave it a lopsided smile. He was singing to you, despite being so far away. He sang a few more words before missing a chord and laughing as he stopped. 

“I can’t remember anymore, it’s been awhile since I’ve played that song.”

“Anything you want to say to Y/N?”

“I miss you baby. I can’t wait to see you.”

Your heart felt like it would burst from your chest, and you barely heard both Rey and Finn also saying ‘miss you baby’ before the video ended. Before you even able to move your finger to close out of the message thread, Rey was FaceTiming you. 

“How’s paradise?” She asked you and you turn the camera to show her the fire and the waves of the ocean rolling onto the shore. 

“I’ve only been here a few hours but pretty damn great. How’s California?”

“Good. Less humid than Florida.” Rey said, also turning the camera to show you the fire and the trees. The silence there as deafening as the music coming from the party. “Poe told us you’re meeting his dad.”

“I am.”

“Nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“You’ll be fine. Kes is great. I’m sure he’ll love you.”

Finn suddenly appeared on the screen, a bright smile on his face. “Hi, nugget!”

“Nugget?”

“Rey’s peanut and you’re nugget!”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, but you were touched that he gave you a nickname. “Hey, can you tell Poe I’m mad at him for not playing for me sooner!”

“He just ran to his ca—he hasn’t played for you?! That’s part of his appeal!”

“To be fair, you guys haven’t either. I’ve been asking very nicely for a Resistance reunion for weeks now.”

“Ok, well, that’s not happening.” Rey said and you tried giving her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and she just kept saying ‘no’ and then Finn was suddenly shouting. 

“Poe! Why haven’t you serenaded your girl yet? She’s sad she’s missing out!”

“Are you talking to her?” There was shuffling and then Poe’s face was on the screen, smiling when he saw you. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“How was your flight?”

“It was fine, I did homework.”

“On vacation?”

“It was the last thing I had that was due after break! Now I don’t have to worry about anything when we get back except what you’re making me for breakfast on Sunday.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Yes, because I beat you in Mario Kart a few days ago and never claimed by reward.”

“I thought what we did after was reward enough.”

Jannah spat out her drink and laughed loudly while Rose giggled into her hands. You smiled until your cheeks hurt and a blush crept into your cheeks as Finn and Rey scolded Poe for information they didn’t need to know. 

“Also, you’ve been holding out on me with that singing, so you owe me.”

“I’ll cook you whatever you want.”

You gave him a victorious smirk. Jannah waved Rose over and leaned into you on your right while Rose came over to squeeze into you on your left, their faces appearing on the screen. You rolled your eyes.

“Ok then, Poe, this is Jannah and Rose, my two best friends from high school.”

“Wow, you are so much hotter in person. Over the phone.” Jannah said and you elbowed her in the ribs and she gave you a look. “Sorry, I’m drunk."

Poe shook his head as he laughed. “It’s fine. It’s good to meet you.”

Jannah tipped her head back, finishing her drink before letting out a huge yawn. “You guys wanna go back to the room? I’m getting freaking tired.”

You sighed, wanting to talk to Poe a little longer. “I guess we’re going to bed. I gotta go and make sure she can walk.” 

“Get some rest, I’ll see you in a week.”

“Can’t wait.” In an affectionate move that surprised you, Poe blew you a kiss before ending the call. You stared at the screen as a feeling of warmth that had nothing to do with the campfire spread all over your body.

“I might be in love with your boyfriend Y/N.”

After making sure the fire was properly extinguished, the three of you headed back to your hotel room. The party was still in full swing, possibly even busier now that it was later into the night. Rose and Jannah started talking about plans for the next day, but you were basking in the warm and tingly feelings that Poe often left you with to contribute to the conversation. 

You’d never been in love before and you weren’t sure if you should be so early on, but if this was what it felt like, then that's what you were: well and truly in love with Poe. 

tag list [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @dameronsgalaxygal @mserynlarsen @yougottakeeponkeepinon @linibirdimagine @goddamndameron @starrykitn @cloud-leader @damnyoudameron 

[scullysexual]

50 Days of Prompts (22/50)

This List | Cliche prompts | One prompt a day | college au | Words: 1438 |

Prompts One to Ten | Prompts Eleven to Twenty | 21. Cuddling in comfortable silence before... | AO3 | 

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @starwalker42

This might be one of my favourites. 

- - - 

Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second. 

They weren’t in the best of places to say the least. Which was a shame because Mulder had a found a good one in Scully. Years running after Phoebes and Dianas- people who would just use and abuse him, Scully was an angel brought to him in the form of a tiny package of adorableness with freckles he spent endless nights counting and naming, red curls that were messy and unruly because she hadn’t had time to do it today and countless round glasses because she kept losing them (or that one pair he broke because he sat on them but he doesn’t talk about that)

But Scully was too good to be true, too good for him. His attentions were always elsewhere- not towards other girls- but always looking at the sky, ignorant of her needs because hacking government websites with his friends was more important than Friday Movie Night on the rare nights Scully was actually free.

And that, ultimately, is what ended their relationship.

Well, not ended completely, simply “put on pause” had been the words Scully had used. Mulder had taken it as ended.

Sick of him moping around, those same friends had dragged him to a bar with the promise of getting him drunk, getting him laid, and helping him forget Scully.

Neither of those things had worked out yet. Except maybe the first because Mulder was definitely tipsy.

Drinking wasn’t always the best option for Mulder. A toss of a coin; heads- he’s affectionate, tails- he’s miserable.

The gods chose miserable tonight.

Langly is talking about a future campaign and Mulder finds himself wholly uninterested. His eyes wander over to the commotion at the bar- a lot more interesting than his friends’ conversation- and wonders if he is completely sloshed because that same little red-head, the one wearing those tight little jeans that make her ass look fantastic and instantly give him a hard-on, the one he is meant to be forgetting about is standing at the bar.

She’s with her friends, no doubt. For the same reasons he is? No, that’s not Scully. She doesn’t mope when bad things happen, unlike him. She’s resilient, able to get up and move on. She’s here to have fun.

He thinks about leaving. The longing he feels watching her is almost too much to bear but his second drink remains virtually untouched and to go would make his friends wonder why. One look over to the bar and they would know.

Instead Mulder stays glued to his seat, unwanting to stay but unable to go. He was too caught up gazing at Scully that he just about realises that she’s talking to another person, another boy, and breaks often mean allowing the other to sleep with another person, without consequence and judgement but Mulder can’t help but want to turn his face away, his heart deflating at how flirty and friendly she is with this person who has no right to her, because she is his.

But she isn’t. And that sadness consumes him, a dark pit forming in his stomach, the beer churning unpleasantly inside. He wants to turn that sadness into anger, call her every derogatory insult he can think of; bitch, slut, whore but also he can’t. He can’t because that’s the same person he’s called gorgeous, beautiful, and lovely. Because those three former words aren’t what she is. Because who is he to deny her attention once again?

But when he looks away from the boy, with his smarmy smile, and hands itching to touch her, back to Scully he notices how unhappy she looks, how uncomfortable- her eyes searching around, lingering somewhere at the back, calling out for her friends maybe?

Calling out for help.

Scully doesn’t want this boy anywhere near her.

Mulder’s up and out of his seat before he even realises himself. He knocks the table some point on his way up, he knows this because his knee hurts and his friends have stopped talking.

“Where are you going?” he hears Byers ask.

“To get another drink,” he excuses immediately.

“You’ve barely touched the one we got you forty minutes ago,” Langly says though at this point Mulder doesn’t response, he’s moved away, heading towards the bar.

An opening is made just in time, somebody moves out of the way and it lands him right next to Scully. She doesn’t see him, her back to him but Mulder looks towards her unwanted companion and see’s he’s busy collecting his drink.

He taps her side, twice, their secret code along with three knocks on the door.

“You alright?” he asks when she turns to look at him. His elbows are against the bar, he’s leaning down, he doesn’t think the boy can see him.

She looks surprised to see him but quickly recovers.

“Not really,” she says looking miserable. “He’s been trying to hit on me all night. I told him my boyfriend was on the way.”

The look of pleading in her eyes tells him enough. With all his might he doesn’t smirk, to be a gentleman, to do her a favour.

They’re still on a break.

He stands up to his full height, almost towering over everyone at the bar. The other boy is concentrating paying and Mulder puts his hands on Scully’s hips.

And God do they know they belong there. He barely believe he’s touching her again, his brain on constant repeat: you’re doing her a favour, you’re doing her a favour.

And yes, he’s doing her a favour but if this is the last time he gets to touch her like this, he’s going to make it last, going to get something out of it.

So when the boy turns to resume talking to Scully, Mulder pulls her into him, his lips descending on hers. It’s not gentle at all, it’s one of possession, his tongue invading her mouth upon contact. He’s taking it too far, he knows, but Christ he’s missed kissing her like this, missed kissing her at all.

One hand climbs up to her hair, keeping her there, the other onto her ass, pulling her even closer.

It takes everything he has but he needs to, he forces her eyes open and stares directly at the other boy’s.

And it was worth it. The other boy seems dumbstruck for a moment, a look of jealousy in there too, and a hint of sadness that she isn’t his.

That’s right, fucker, she’s mine, he thinks.

They pull away, probably when the needs for air becomes too much, and she’s smiling at him, her once red lips swollen.

I did that, he thinks gleefully, never sick of the sight.

He takes her hand, interlocking their fingers, just another thing that fits so well.

“You ready to go home, baby?” he asks looking at her.

“Sure,” she says and she pulls him away from the bar.

When they’re out of sight of the boy, he stands off to the side so she can get her bag, say bye to her friends. He doesn’t even bother with his and when she returns, he follows her out.

“I meant what I said, Scully,” Mulder says once they are outside, the cool night air hitting their skin. “We can go home.”

It’s not an I can take you home, it’s a We can go home. After that kiss, after his hands on her body he never wants them anywhere else again.

But Scully is, as should be, apprehensive. She plays with the strap of her bag.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do that, Mulder,” she says. “It was mean.”

He knew he shouldn’t have tried to push his luck, should’ve just offered to take her home. He kicks the ground, a rock on the gravel.

“I’ll do right this time, Scully.” He knows he’s pleading, begging. “Please, just give me a second chance.”

Her attention is diverted to the bar doors opening again, a couple stumble out, no older than Freshmen. They are drunk and in love, stumbling around the place and laughing as they do so.

That was them once, Mulder muses. Having got in early enough before security arrive, drinking alcohol they sneaked in, and stumbling out ready to rip each other’s clothes off in the nearest alleyway- one time they did.

“Are you drunk, Mulder?” Scully asks, turning her attention away from the couple and back to him.

“Not anymore.” Only on you.

“We need to talk, then.”

She starts walking ahead and Mulder follows. They don’t touch, they don’t speak but it’s a start, a chance at a second go.

[misterewrites]

The Fallen’s Redemption (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hey everyone! E here with the newest chapter! sorry it took a while to get out, been a wild month but it looks like everything's calming down so hopefully everything comes out more consistently. I hope you are all well and enjoying the story. Feel free to share, comment and all that jazz. I'm trying to promote myself more. Feels weird. haha that's it for me. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands, vaccinate if you can and take care of your love ones. Have a great week! E out!

If you like an easier way to read the story or even find out what the heck’s going on you can read the whole thing right here!

 --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/74835963

It was truly impressive how one moment could shift without warning. How the highest and lowest point in a singular instant in time could reverse and just keep going.

Archie wished for once in his life it went in his favor.

The mercenary knew Oliver and Abigail had succeeded when the room settled: crooked walls straightened, the hallways were no longer elongated stretches of void and he could hear Abigail’s voice from the other room.

The demon knew it too as it bruised skin failed to heal quickly, the smoke curled off its body longer and longer as Archie sunk holy arrow after holy arrow into its form. Its muscles seemed to deflect as Fen rained blow after brutal blow upon it. It was actually pretty disturbing if Archie was going to be honest but he knew better to give pity to a demon.

Archie loosen the arrow notched in his bow but kept a wary eye on their foe. It was time to leave. This demon was trapped in this prison for a reason and Archie was suspecting at the very least it was indestructible. Attempting to destroy it would be pointless and a weakened unkillable demon was still a threat.

Archie paused, unsure how to properly convey his message to the berserk Fen. He inched closer, practically stomping to make sure Fen didn’t whirl around in surprise and attack.

He tapped the paladin’s shoulder gently but Fen paid no him no mind. He cleared his throat but Fen just kept swinging away. Archie snarled, gripping Fen’s shoulder tightly and forcing him to turn.

“What!” Fen glared “Can’t you see I’m busy destroying this demon?”

‘You are serious?’ Archie let his annoyance slip onto his face. He was about pull the paladin away when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

The demon, even beaten and in pain, was deceptively quick. It’s elongated arm shot out, aiming for a weak point in the armor.

Archie did not like Fen. Archie thought Fen was unnecessarily combative and stand offish. Fen was a pain to work with and had never once played on a team.

But Archie couldn’t deny who he was.

That’s why he joined the King’s Guard when he lived on the surface.

He acted without thinking, pulling Fen away with as much strength as he could. The claws cut into Fen’s arm but drew little blood. Most of the blood the demon managed to spill came from Archie.

-----

It was impossible to tell who acted quicker: Abigail, Oliver or even Fen.

The trio as acted one for the first time in the short while they knew each other: Oliver said nothing, opting to gesture with a middle finger towards the demon. It let out a pained shriek, reeling backwards as golden musical notes surrounded its head and a dissonance screech thundering in its ears. Fen swung backward, cracking the demon in the jaw and sent it sprawling towards the floor. Abigail raced forward, diving for Archibald's falling form.

For a lanky guy, he was heavier than Abigail was expecting. She barely managed to stop him from hitting the floor with a splat but found herself pinned under him as a result.

“Oh boy Archie” Abigail groaned, struggling to lift the mercenary “You got some weight on you.”

Archie gave a weak smile, his gaze unfocused and distant.

Abigail turned to call for Oliver but the bard was already there, carefully eyeing the wound.

“It’s not too bad” Oliver murmured to himself. He rolled his sleeves up, staining one red with the blood dripping from his hand “But we got to act fast. He’s going to bleed out we don’t get him fixed up.”

“Can you?” Abagail asked, trying her best to keep her voice calm.

Oliver didn’t answer. Instead he held a hand over the open wound, closing his eyes while muttering something under his breath.

The golden musical notes appeared once more and hovered over Archibald. A calming melody began to play as Oliver’s magic took hold. Oliver winced as his own wound knitted itself back together: pinkish skin reforming and sealed where he stabbed himself with the dagger. Archibald’s started to but something went wrong: A malicious energy poured from the wound, hungry and vicious. Oliver’s magic wavered and shimmered out of exist but the wound remained.

Oliver’s face paled, his lips curling into a snarl.

“Oh hell no!”

Oliver rose his hand once again, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his magic reformed but once again the strange energy appeared and seemed to actively block the bard’s attempts to heal.

Oliver’s eyes grew manic “I am not letting someone else die! Curse or no curse.”

“Curse?” Abigail whispered as a chill ran down her spine “He’s been cursed.”

“A fucking demonic curse.” Oliver explained, frantically digging through his pack “Obviously my magic isn’t enough to break it.”

Abigail nodded numbly “We need holy magic.”

“Which we don’t have.” Oliver responded grimly “You have any thread?”

“Thread?”

“I’m going to try to stitch him up. I’m hoping the curse is only focused on magical cures.”

“R-right.” Abigail’s hand moved on their own, reaching for her pack while she desperately tried to remember where she kept the thread. It wasn’t the easiest thing with one hand but the other was wrapped tightly around Archie’s body. Definitely not the smartest choice but she refused to let go of him.

Abigail’s hand shook as the nerves started to eat at her.

“Talk to me farm girl.” Oliver sounded far off “You need to stay focus.

She took a calming breath “Right. Right. Calm. Are you sure threads would work?”

“No” Oliver admitted “But I’m hoping they last long enough for us to get him to the capital. He needs a real cleric or paladin” he glared openly Fen’s back as the paladin continued his cruel attack on the demon “and we’re going to need every second. Dragging him out the house, up the slope and down the tunnel is going to be a challenge but we have to try.”

The air grew thick with tension, the only sounds were Abigail’s panicked search and thuds of Fen’s assault

“Die demon die!” Fen growled with a righteous fever “I will send you back from whence your came!”

Crunch, squish, crunch, squish, crunch. The repetitive noise of Fen’s wasted efforts.

Oliver tried to keep calm. Oliver tried to focus on the task hand. Oliver wanted nothing more than silence.

Oliver always had a poor control over his mouth.

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP!?”

Abigail stood, shocked at the rage and fury that filled Oliver’s shout.

Fen caught it too. He paused, turning away from his prey and eyed Oliver’s distastefully.

“You dare…?” Fen began, angrily stomping closer to the pair.

“You fucking right I dare!” Oliver shot to his feet, hands clenched to fists “You are joke and worse, not even a funny one. Just a pathetic washed out paladin who doesn’t even realize why his God abandoned him!”

Fen held Oliver’s lute in a deathly grip “I am warning you bard if you push me further….”

“You’ll what?” Oliver roared. He closed the distance and even Fen couldn’t help but take a step back “You’ll attack me? A fellow human? Not very holy of you.”

“I….”

“What’s the point of killing monsters...” Oliver screamed, gesturing to the bleeding Archibald and fearful Abigail “...if there’s no one left to save when you’re done! What’s the point of punishing the wicked if good people have to die for it?”

Fen felt sick as realization washed over him. Young Archibald had gotten severely injured but he been so caught up in his fury he hadn’t realized what occurred.

“I….” Fen began weakly but Oliver wasn’t finished.

“Don’t.” Oliver spoke with an aura of finality “You made your choice. You chose your anger over your duty. If you regret the outcome, you should’ve thought about the choice more carefully. Abigail, thread.”

Abigail nodded and began searching for the elusive thread. Oliver turned away from the stunned paladin and pulled out a fine needle.

“Come on solider boy.” He spoke with a firm tone “You’re not dying on me. If you want to get paid, you’ll keep your breathing steady.”

Fen couldn’t hear what the others were saying. The guilt started to build in the pit of his stomach as his arms grew weak.

How could he fall so far? How could he forget his oath to the Solius, the god who saved his life and gave it meaning? How could he allow his anger, his bitterness poison his intention?

This god hadn’t abandoned him, he had abandoned his god.

He still remembered the quiet pride he shone with when he was anointed a paladin. A nobody from a town that no longer existed finally someone. A higher purpose.

The path to redemption is made by self sacrifice.

He thought it meant punishing the wicked creatures and enemies of Solius, giving his life to endless battle.

He closed his eyes in shame, unable to deny the truth of his failure any longer.

Fen’s eyes flinched as a light seemed to shine from nowhere. He opened his eyes expecting to find the irritating bard using his magic to annoy him further.

Instead he found a beautiful soft light emitting from his hands: an open palm and the weaponized lute glowed with an unearthly beauty.

He glanced towards the other but if they had seen the light, they made no indication of it. He could see the desperation in their actions: Abigail unspooling as much thread she could muster while Oliver threaded the needle in preparation for some makeshift surgery.

Fen looked at his hands once again and realized what Solius hadn’t left him. Not really. He always had been with the paladin but he was too blinded by resentment to notice. Now Solius was silently offering him the choice free of judgment.

What path will you choose: of peace or of war?

Fen was a warrior through and through. He was no healer, having never trained in such arts. He knew the path he chose when he swore himself to the god of redemption. A righteous blade on the mortal plane.

“Hey Archie” Abigail croaked, her voice hoarse with fear “It’ll be okay. Oliver’s just gonna shove a needle into your body.”

Archibald rolled his eyes sarcastically as if saying ‘oh fun’

Oliver pulled the thread to ensure it wouldn’t come loose “Sorry I don’t have medicine or anything to numb the pain or even proper experience but hey, what better way to learn new skills huh?”

Archibald shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ll do my best.” Oliver promised with a surprising amount of sincerity “Hopefully it will be enough.”

“Bard.”

Oliver let out a frustrated groan “Seriously?! Now? Can’t you see that I’m about to perform…”

“Allow me.”

Oliver turned to Fen, surprised to see his lute placed carefully on the floor and the paladin’s hands open in peaceful surrender.

“Can you do it?”

“I believe so.”

Oliver moved, allowing Fen room to work. Fen took a deep breath and gently placed his hands onto the open wound. Archibald flinched but stayed as still as he could manage.

The malicious curse crept forth.

“Solius, lend me your power to save this life. It is not yet time.”

Abigail let out a gasp as a gentle light began to cover Fen’s hands. The curse stretched and thinned under the glow of holy magic, shrinking and shrinking before vanishing completely. Archibald relaxed as his wound began to close, skin stitching itself back together until no trace of the injury remained.

Fen let out a tired sigh “The path to redemption is made through self sacrifice.”

“Don’t start.” Oliver warned “Help me lift him up.”

Oliver spared a quick glance for the demon but it wisely chosen to retreat deeper into the house rather purse a one sided fight. Better live with a pain that would heal slowly than face the group’s wrath.

“I got him” Abigail spoke up quickly “I can do it.”

“Well you heard the lady.”

-----

“There’s no sign of your beasts bard.”

“Not entirely true.” Oliver replied. He took note of the gnashed, clawed marks left upon the exterior of the house when they left.

Aside from the various scratch marks left all over the floor and outside of the walls, there was no sign of the mysterious creatures that chased them down the tunnel.

“That’s a lucky break” Oliver breathed in relief.

Archibald flipped off Oliver.

“Relatively.” Oliver corrected “How you feeling solider boy?”

Archibald shot him a glance that screamed ‘you seriously asking me that?’

“Force of habit. Sorry. Not sorry.”

The group stood at the mouth of the tunnel. With Fen’s help, they managed to get Archibald to the top with little trouble.

Abigail slowly approached the paladin “What will you do now?”

Fen paused, taking a moment to answer.

“I am not sure.” he admitted truthfully “As much as I despise your bard, he has given me much to think about.”

“I have that effect on people.” Oliver beamed with pride.

Abigail jabbed her elbow into his side.

“Rude.”

Fen gave a light chuckle “Thank you bard. I still hate you though.”

Oliver gave a noncommittal shrugged “I hate you too but you don’t have to like someone to learn something from them.”

“I am not giving you that one.”

“Yeah that tracks.”

Fen turned to Archibald “Will you be alright? I can accompany you to Haven’s Nest if you wish.”

Archibald waved him off and gestured to Abigail with a flexing motion.

“Thanks!” Abigail smiled brightly.

Fen grinned “I understand and I apologize for my lack of….everything. I will work on that.”

Archibald nodded in understanding.

“Goodbye” Fen turned towards the path to West End “Abigail, Archibald take care. Bard I hope I never see you again.”

“Same here paladork!”

-----

Abigail understood why Oliver chose the unexplored tunnel when they had been chased by the strange creatures: With Abigail carrying Archibald, it had taken the group an hour to reach the city gate. At full sprint it would’ve taken at least 20 minutes to reach but there was no way the group could’ve ran that length without the risk of tripping.

The city gate wasn’t too much different than the walls that surrounded Abigail’s hometown: Instead towering walls designed to be too tall to climb, it was a thick metal door built in the path of the tunnel mouth. There were a pair of guards stationed on their side of the wall, lazy and distracted.

“What happened to him?” one of the guards gestured to Archibald.

“A bad time. Gate closed?”

The other guard shook his head “Nah. We heard a commotion down the tunnel so we decided to shut it in case.”

Oliver nodded “Good call. Let us in?”

“Oi, I ask the questions. What’s your business in the capital?”

Abigail began to open her mouth but Oliver cut her off “Bard competition. They’re my roadies.”

“What’s a roadie?” One guard asked dumbly.

“My help. I’m a pretty big deal.”

The guards sneered “Sure big deal. Sing us something.”

Oliver looked at his fingernails “You can hear me sing at the competition. I don’t do free shows.”

“Fucking bards” the guard murmured under his breath as he knocked on the door with a booming thud.

Abigail could the creaking and groaning of clogs and springs and chains moving in unison. The door began to lift inch by inch. Abigail couldn’t help but lean forward, hoping to soak in her first experience at an underground city. However, instead of whatever she had been expecting, she found herself staring at a large circular cavern.

There were a few people about deep in conversion as well a handful of guards scattered around. Merchants calling in different tongues hoping to make a sale for their wares. On the far end was an identical metal door that no doubt led to the actual city. To either side the cavern walls that were covered with nonsensical graffiti: Phrases in various languages, different images in varying art styles.

“Processing?” Abigail asked with a tone of certainty.

“Yep. It’ll be a few minutes.” Oliver answered while he looked about.

Abigail shifted Archibald so he could be more comfortable “Did you want to sit?”

Archibald shook his head.

“Alright but if you get tired let me know.”

A thumbs up in response.

“Oliver….” Abigail whirled around only to find the bard scribbling some strange symbol among the mess of whatever what was on the wall “OLIVER!”

Oliver paid no mind to her, opting to finish whatever he was doing and making his way back to the other two.

Abigail rose an eyebrow “What was that about?”

“I like doodling. I get bored easily.”

“I was talking to Archie for like a second.”

“Bored.” Oliver repeated unhelpfully “Besides they magically clean the walls every night. Come on let’s get in line.”

True to Oliver’s word, it hadn’t taken long to get through the processing: The same questions asked by the guards in front, a quick magical scan from the cleric to ensure nothing demonic was entering, a search to see if anyone was carrying anything illegal. A few minutes had passed and the trio was waved through.

Archibald regained enough strength to walk on his own albeit slowly. The group was among a handful other people eagerly waiting for the gate to open when a guard had given them some strange item. It looked like two thin marshmallows.

“What is this about?” Abigail asked only to find Oliver and Archibald place the strange item into their ears. Having no choice, Abigail followed suit.

The gate slowly opened, pulling to the side instead upwards.

Abigail leaned forward, catching her first glimpse of Haven’s Nest.