#the look on her face as he's talking--like he's offering a lifeline and she's eagerly taking it

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 10

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4.7k

warning; grief, mention of death and dead body.

notes; well apologies need to be told for the last chapter everyone. I'm sorry ;))) Still hope that you will like this chapter, please look at the warnings some people might be sensitive to the topics. Love <33

here is the link for part 9 or part 11

---

The shop had been silent for weeks. The usual warmth that radiated from the forge, the rhythmic clang of the hammer against steel, the cheerful voice of a young boy eagerly trying to sell every weapon in sight—it was all gone. The life that once pulsed through the place had faded, leaving only a cold, hollow emptiness.

A small, handwritten panel hung on the door, swaying gently in the breeze:

"Closed, come and see us another time ;))"

The smiley face at the end of the note was a cruel reminder of the life that had once filled this place, a mockery of the joy that had been ripped away. Now, the shop stood dead—no heat from the forge, no sound of work, no laughter.

Inside, the atmosphere was just as cold. The forge had long since cooled, the tools lay untouched, and the once vibrant displays of weapons now seemed to gather dust, lifeless in the dim light that filtered through the windows.

You had retreated to the back of the shop, to the small apartment that had once been a sanctuary for you and Alexander. But even there, the silence was deafening. The only place you could find any semblance of comfort was in Alex’s bed, where you had wrapped yourself in his blankets, trying desperately to hold onto the last traces of his scent. It was faint now, barely there, but you clung to it as if it were a lifeline.

The pain was a constant, gnawing ache that never seemed to ease. Every breath felt heavy, every heartbeat a reminder of the one that had stopped. Alex was gone, and with him, it felt like a piece of your soul had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping wound that refused to heal.

Azriel had been by your side throughout it all. He came to the shop every day, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, watching over you with a silent vigil. He had offered his comfort, his presence, but there were no words that could fill the void left by Alex’s absence.

He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t push you to move or eat. He simply stayed, his own heart heavy with the bond that had snapped into place during the most horrific moment of both your lives. It was as if he understood that the only thing he could offer was his quiet companionship, a presence that grounded you even as you felt like you were falling apart.

But everything was so hard now.

The simplest tasks—getting out of bed, eating, even breathing—felt like monumental efforts, each one requiring more strength than you thought you had left. Some days, you couldn’t even bring yourself to move, lying in Alex’s bed, surrounded by his things, trying to hold onto the memory of him for just a little longer.

Azriel would sit beside you during those times, not saying a word, his hand occasionally reaching out to brush against yours, a silent reminder that he was there, that you weren’t alone. But even his presence, comforting as it was, couldn’t erase the pain.

The grief was suffocating, a heavy blanket that wrapped around you, making it impossible to see beyond the loss. And yet, despite the overwhelming darkness, there was a small part of you that clung to Azriel’s presence, a flicker of something that refused to be snuffed out entirely.

But it was hard. So incredibly hard.

There were moments when you thought about getting up, about leaving the bed and trying to find some semblance of normalcy, but the thought of facing the world without Alex was too much to bear. The world felt cold, unforgiving, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to step back into it.

So you stayed in Alex’s bed, wrapped in his scent, in the memories of the boy who had been your everything. And Azriel stayed with you, his silent company the only thing keeping you tethered to reality, even as the world felt like it was slipping away.

It had been weeks, and the shop was dead.

Completely dead.

And you weren’t sure if it—or you—would ever come back to life.

As the heavy silence settled over the shop, memories of that fateful day began to resurface, unbidden and relentless, pulling back to the moment when everything had changed.

Azriel’s hands trembled as he used his shadows to gently wrap Alex’s small, lifeless body. The thick material of his cloak, normally used to conceal and protect, now served as a shroud for the boy who had been so full of life. Azriel’s shadows, usually a source of strength and power, now felt like a burden as they took on the solemn duty of carrying the boy's body.

As the shadows lifted Alex’s body, cocooned in the cloak, Azriel felt a deep, wrenching pain in his chest. The flames that had once flickered so fiercely in your eyes were now extinguished, leaving only an empty void that Azriel could barely comprehend. He couldn’t bear to look at you, the way your face was drained of color, your eyes hollow and fixed straight ahead as you hovered beside him in the air.

The flight back to Velaris was slow, agonizingly slow, every beat of Azriel’s wings heavy with grief. His shadows carried Alex’s body with the utmost care, as if even in death, the boy deserved the gentleness that had once filled his life. Azriel kept glancing at you, hoping for some sign that you were still there, still present, but your expression was unreadable, lost somewhere far away from him.

When you finally landed in front of the townhouse, you didn’t wait for Azriel. You turned on your heel and walked away, your steps unsteady but resolute. You didn’t say a word, didn’t look back, as you made your way through the quiet streets of Velaris, heading directly to your apartment above the shop.

Azriel watched you go, torn between following you and respecting your need for space. “Y/N,” he called out softly, his voice heavy with sorrow and helplessness.

You paused for the briefest moment, your back still turned to him, before shaking your head. “I need to be alone, Azriel. Please… just give me some time.”

The finality in your voice struck him like a blow. He wanted to argue, to tell you that you didn’t have to go through this alone, that he was here for you, and would always be here for you. But he knew better than to push. He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it, and watched as you disappeared into the darkness.

Azriel stood there for a long time, his shadows still cradling Alex’s body as if trying to shield the boy from the cruel reality of death. The streets of Velaris were silent around him, a stark contrast to the chaos that raged in his mind. The bond, newly formed and searingly powerful, pulsed with a pain that left him breathless.

With a heavy heart, he finally turned and made his way into the townhouse, where he knew Rhysand and the others were waiting.

As Azriel entered the townhouse, the warmth that usually greeted him felt distant, as though the very air had chilled in sympathy with his grief. Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor were gathered in the sitting room, their faces etched with concern and sorrow. They had been waiting for him, and the moment he stepped inside, their eyes were drawn to the shadows that carried the small, wrapped bundle.

Azriel’s shadows, usually vibrant with life and energy, were subdued, almost mournful as they carefully placed Alex’s body on a nearby table. They lingered there, curling protectively around the small form before slowly retreating, leaving only the cloak-shrouded body behind.

Rhysand was the first to speak, his voice low and controlled, though Azriel could hear the strain in it. “What happened?”

Azriel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he recounted the events. He told them about the fight in the clearing, about the dark ritual that had drained Alex’s life force, about the cruel man who had orchestrated it all. But when he spoke about you, about how you had cradled Alex’s body in his final moments, his voice faltered.

“She… she’s broken, Rhys,” Azriel said quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’ve never seen her like this. I don’t know how to help her.”

Cassian’s fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury. “Who did this? Who’s responsible?”

Azriel shook his head, his shadows shifting restlessly. “I don’t know. He was there, taunting her, but he vanished before we could stop him. He said… he said the power inside her wasn’t meant for her, that it was supposed to be taken from her. And Alex… he was a part of that.”

Rhysand’s expression darkened, his hands curling into fists as he processed the information. “This is bigger than we thought. We need to find out who this man is and what he wants.”

Azriel nodded, but his mind was only half on the conversation. The other half was with you, alone in your apartment, surrounded by memories of the boy who had meant everything to you. He wanted to go to you, to hold you, to tell you that you weren’t alone, that he was there for you.

But the bond…

The bond had snapped into place during Alex’s final moments, but you hadn’t felt it. You were too consumed by your grief, too lost in the agony of losing someone you had loved like a son. Azriel could feel it, the mating bond humming in the background of his mind, a constant reminder of the connection between you. But it was tainted by the pain of what had happened, by the guilt of not being able to save Alex, of not being able to spare you from this suffering.

“I need to be with her,” Azriel said finally, his voice raw. “She asked for time, but… I can’t just leave her alone.”

Rhysand’s gaze softened, understanding flashing in his violet eyes. “She’ll need you, Az. Maybe not right now, but soon. Give her the space she needs, but be there when she’s ready. She’s strong, but no one should go through this alone.”

Cassian stepped forward, his hand resting on Azriel’s shoulder, offering silent support. “We’ll figure this out. Whoever did this won’t get away with it. But right now, she needs you to be there for her, in whatever way she’ll allow.”

Azriel nodded, though the uncertainty still gnawed at him. He knew they were right, knew that you would need him eventually. But the bond… it was there, pulsing with every beat of his heart, a reminder that you were his mate, that you were tied to him in a way that neither of you could ignore forever.

But for now, all he could do was wait. Wait for you to come to terms with your grief, wait for you to find your way back to him. And in the meantime, he would be there, watching over you, protecting you, even if it meant staying in the shadows, just out of reach.

As the conversation with Rhysand and Cassian continued, Azriel’s thoughts kept drifting back to you, to the pain he had seen in your eyes, to the way you had cradled Alex’s body as if you could somehow bring him back.

The bond pulsed again, a painful reminder of what he had gained and lost all at once.

And all he could do was wait.

The soft light of the setting sun filtered through the windows of the townhouse, casting long shadows across the room. Azriel stood near the hearth, his posture rigid, his hands clenched at his sides as he stared into the flickering flames. The silence between him and Rhysand was heavy, filled with unspoken words and the weight of the truth that Azriel had been grappling with since the moment the bond had snapped into place.

Rhysand watched him from where he sat, his usual air of calm authority tinged with concern as he studied his brother. He could sense the turmoil roiling within Azriel, the conflicting emotions that were tearing him apart. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Rhysand spoke.

"Az, what’s going on? You’ve been… different since you came back. Distant."

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the fire as if it held the answers to the questions that had been plaguing him. His shadows, usually so controlled, flickered restlessly around him, a reflection of the storm inside his mind.

"I didn’t want it to happen like this," Azriel finally said, his voice low and rough, filled with a pain that he had been trying to suppress. "Not like this, not when she’s already suffering so much."

Rhysand’s brow furrowed in concern, leaning forward slightly. "What happened, Az? What aren’t you telling me?"

Azriel turned away from the fire, his expression tormented as he met Rhysand’s gaze. "The bond… it snapped into place when Alex died. She’s my mate, Rhys."

Rhysand’s eyes widened slightly, the shock evident in his expression. For a moment, he was silent, processing the weight of Azriel’s words. The bond was something sacred, something that connected two souls in a way that was unbreakable, undeniable. But to have it snap into place in such a moment of profound grief…

"Az…" Rhysand began, his voice softening as he tried to grasp the full impact of what Azriel had just confessed. "Does she know?"

Azriel shook his head, the pain in his chest tightening as he spoke. "No. She doesn’t know. She couldn’t… she was too consumed by grief, too lost in the pain of losing Alex. I felt it, Rhys. I felt it with every fiber of my being, but she… she didn’t feel it. And now, I don’t know what to do."

Rhysand stood, moving closer to Azriel, his expression filled with empathy and understanding. "The bond is powerful, Az. But so is grief. She’s been through something unimaginable. It’s no wonder she didn’t feel it in that moment."

Azriel let out a shaky breath, his voice breaking as he continued. "I can’t bear to see her like this, Rhys. I’m supposed to protect her, to be there for her, but I feel like I’ve already failed. And now, with the bond… how can I expect her to accept it, to accept me, when she’s barely holding on?"

Rhysand placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Az, this isn’t your fault. You’ve done everything you could. You’ve been by her side, even when she pushed you away. The bond… it’s a gift, but it’s also a responsibility. And right now, your responsibility is to give her the space she needs to heal."

Azriel closed his eyes, the weight of Rhysand’s words sinking in. "But what if she never feels it? What if she never accepts it? How can I… how can I live with that?"

Rhysand’s voice was gentle, filled with the wisdom that came from centuries of experience. "If she’s truly your mate, Az, she’ll feel it when she’s ready. The bond doesn’t force itself—it waits until both souls are ready to accept it. Right now, she’s grieving. But when she’s ready, she’ll come to you."

Azriel opened his eyes, the shadows in them darker than ever. "And if she doesn’t?"

Rhysand’s expression softened, a note of sadness in his voice. "Then you’ll have to respect her choice. The bond is powerful, but it doesn’t override free will. If she chooses not to accept it… that’s something you’ll have to learn to live with. But I don’t think that’s what will happen."

Azriel nodded slowly, though the doubt and fear still gnawed at him. "I just… I don’t want to lose her, Rhys. Not before I’ve even had a chance to tell her what she means to me."

Rhysand squeezed his shoulder, offering what comfort he could. "You won’t lose her, Az. Give her time. Be there for her, as you’ve always been. The bond will reveal itself when the time is right."

Azriel swallowed hard, the pain in his chest easing just slightly as he nodded. "I hope you’re right, Rhys. I hope… she’ll find her way back to me."

Rhysand’s smile was faint, but there was confidence in his eyes. "She will, Az. She will.”

——

Two weeks had passed since that dreadful night, two weeks of unbearable silence and darkness. The shop remained closed, the warmth of the forge long gone, replaced by a chilling emptiness that seemed to permeate every corner. The air was heavy, oppressive, as if the walls themselves mourned the loss of the boy who had brought so much life to the place.

Today was the first day you had stepped outside since Alex’s death. The cold air bit at your skin as Azriel helped you down the steps of your apartment. Snow had begun to fall, delicate flakes drifting lazily from the sky, covering the streets of Velaris in a blanket of white. The world looked peaceful, serene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within you.

Azriel’s presence beside you was a constant, quiet support. He had come to pick you up, knowing that today would be harder than anything you had faced since that night. He was dressed in a long, black coat, his usual leathers replaced by something more somber, more fitting for the occasion. His shadows, always hovering around him, seemed muted, as if they too understood the gravity of the day.

You wore a simple black cloak, the hood pulled up over your head, hiding your face from the world. You had barely slept these past two weeks, the dark circles under your eyes a testament to the nightmares that haunted you whenever you closed them. The light that had once sparkled in your eyes was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness that mirrored the grief in your heart.

The group had gathered near the outskirts of Velaris, in a small, secluded grove that overlooked the Sidra River. The place was beautiful, serene, with tall trees that stood like silent guardians over the clearing. Snow covered the ground in a soft layer, and the river flowed quietly nearby, its surface reflecting the overcast sky.

Rhysand, Mor, Cassian, and Amren were already there, dressed in dark, formal attire. Rhysand’s expression was somber, a deep sadness etched into his features. You knew that this moment struck a chord with him, reminding him of the loss of his mother and sister nearly fifty years ago. He had been trying to hold it together for your sake, but you could see the pain in his eyes, the empathy that came from a place of shared sorrow.

Mor stood beside him, her usual vivacity subdued as she watched you approach. Her eyes were filled with tears, though she blinked them away, trying to remain strong for you. Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched tightly as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Even Amren, who rarely showed much outward emotion, had a pained look in her eyes, her small frame seeming even smaller in the cold, quiet clearing.

Azriel led you to the center of the grove, where a small, simple grave had been prepared. It was nothing grand, just a small mound of earth, but it was surrounded by flowers that had been carefully laid by those who had come to say their goodbyes. The snow continued to fall, covering the flowers in a delicate layer of white, as if nature itself was mourning alongside you.

The silence was heavy as you stood there, staring down at the grave. You felt numb, detached, as if you were watching everything from a distance, your mind unable to fully comprehend the reality of what was happening.

Azriel’s hand rested lightly on your back, his touch gentle, offering comfort that you weren’t sure you could accept. But you didn’t move away. You couldn’t.

The others gathered around, forming a small circle around the grave. Rhysand stepped forward, his voice soft and filled with emotion as he spoke. “We gather here today to honor the life of Alexander, a boy who brought light and joy to all who knew him. He was taken from us far too soon, but his memory will live on in our hearts.”

You barely heard the words, your mind drifting as you stared at the grave, your thoughts consumed by the loss that had shattered your world. The death of Alex had left a void in your heart, a wound that refused to heal. But it wasn’t just his death that weighed on you—it was the loss of your powers, the flames that had once been a part of you, now gone, leaving you feeling empty and powerless.

Rhysand continued speaking, his voice steady despite the grief that weighed heavily on him. “We remember him not just as a friend, but as family. And though he is gone, he will always be with us, in our memories and in our hearts.”

As the final words were spoken, the group fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts, their own memories of the boy who had touched their lives. The snow continued to fall, covering the ground in a pristine blanket, the world around you growing quieter with each passing moment.

You knelt beside the grave, your fingers brushing the cold, hard earth. The tears that had been trapped inside you finally began to fall, silent and steady, as you whispered a final goodbye to the boy who had meant everything to you.

Azriel knelt beside you, his presence a solid, unwavering support as you cried, the full weight of your grief finally breaking through the numbness that had consumed you. His hand rested on your shoulder, grounding you as you released the pain that had been building inside you for so long.

Rhysand watched, his own grief mirrored in his eyes as he saw the pain you were in, knowing all too well the agony of losing someone you loved. His gaze flickered to Azriel, a silent understanding passing between them.

As the snow continued to fall, you slowly rose from your knees, your body stiff and cold from the long vigil beside Alex's grave. You turned to face the small group that had gathered with you, their faces somber, reflecting the weight of the moment. Despite the overwhelming grief that threatened to pull you under, you managed to find the strength to offer them a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft but steady. "Thank you all for being here today. It means more to me than I can put into words. Alex… he would have been so touched to see all of you here, to know how much he was loved."

Rhysand, Mor, Cassian, and Amren nodded, each of them offering their own quiet gestures of support. Rhysand stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "We're here for you, Y/N. Whatever you need, we're here."

You gave him a grateful nod before turning to Azriel, who had been standing quietly by your side, his presence a constant source of comfort throughout the day. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, the bond between you, though unspoken, felt palpable.

Azriel leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his lips against your cold skin sent a shiver through you, not from the cold but from the tenderness of the gesture. "I'll come see you later tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with a gentle promise.

You nodded, unable to find the words to respond. His presence had been your anchor in the storm of grief, and even now, as he prepared to leave, you felt that same sense of grounding, of connection. You watched as Azriel and the others slowly began to make their way back down the path, their figures fading into the falling snow until you were left alone in the quiet grove.

The silence was both comforting and heavy, the only sound the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots as you slowly sat down in front of Alex's grave. The cold seeped through your cloak, but you barely noticed it, your mind focused entirely on the small mound of earth before you.

For a long time, you simply sat there, staring at the grave, the memories of Alex flashing through your mind in a rapid, painful montage. The boy who had become your family, who had brought so much light into your life, was gone. And yet, sitting here, in this peaceful place, you felt closer to him than you had in the weeks since his death.

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs before you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to protect you, that I couldn’t keep you safe. I know you wouldn’t want me to be like this, lost in my grief, but it’s so hard… so hard to keep going without you."

The snow continued to fall around you, the flakes gently landing on the grave, on your shoulders, on your face, like a soft, cold embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely as you continued to talk, as if Alex were still there, listening.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about you," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "About all the things we shared, all the dreams we had for the future. I wish… I wish you could be here with me now, that you could see the family I’ve found. The Inner Circle, they’re… they’re good people, Alex. They’ve taken me in, even when I didn’t think I could let anyone in. And Azriel…"

You paused, your breath catching in your throat as you thought of Azriel, the way he had been there for you, the way he had cared for you in your darkest moments. "Azriel has been so kind, so patient with me. He’s… he’s something special, Alex. I wish you could have known him better, could have seen what I see in him. I think… I think I’m starting to find a new family in them, but it hurts so much that you’re not here to be a part of it."

The tears fell faster now, your chest aching with the weight of all the things left unsaid, all the dreams that had been shattered. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I’m so sorry that you can’t be here, that you won’t get to see what comes next. But I promise you, Alex, I’ll try to keep going. I’ll try to find a way to live, to find happiness, even if it feels impossible right now. And I’ll carry you with me, always. You’ll always be a part of me."

The snow continued to fall, the world around you growing quieter, more peaceful. You let out a shaky breath, feeling a small sense of release as you spoke those words, as if a tiny part of the burden you carried had been lifted.

For a long time, you stayed there, talking to Alex about everything that came to mind—the little things, the big things, the memories that still brought a smile to your face even through the pain. And as the sky darkened and the first stars began to appear, you finally rose to your feet, feeling a little lighter, a little less alone.

You gave the grave one last, lingering look, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. "I’ll be back, Alex. I promise."

And with that, you turned and began to make your way back down the path, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots, the shadows of the grove fading behind you as you walked toward the future, one step at a time. as the snow covered the earth in a soft, white blanket, you felt, for the first time, that maybe, with time, you could begin to heal.

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[daryltwdixon]

The Promise of Us: Chapter 55

remember when I said I was writing something cute and fluffy :') this has part of it, next chapter has more

Walking the path back to the church, their dollies loaded with food and supplies, Daryl keeps his head down, lost in the swirling maze of thoughts that circle around Y/N. His mind is a whirlwind, but it’s the kind that settles something inside him, something he’s been feeling for longer than he’s ever had the courage to admit. The connection he has with her—it’s stronger than anything he’s ever known. Through every nightmare, every mile of blood-soaked ground, it’s only ever been her. He knows it, always did, really. But it's clear as day now.

The church looms ahead, offering a kind of safety they haven’t known in a while, but the tension within the group digs into him. He thinks of his closest friend–Carol. She’s been quiet, too quiet, and whatever happened out there with her, the girls, and Tyreese—it’s marked her, left her with that haunted look he catches every now and then. He’s been in that darkness before and he can tell she’s carrying something heavy, but he doesn’t push. He supposes they’re all carrying something now.

And then there’s Gabriel. The priest’s polite smiles and darting eyes grate on him, as if the man's whole being is wrapped in something he’s too afraid to face. There’s a jitteriness to him, a lurking guilt that only deepens Daryl’s distrust. He’s seen men haunted by the things they’ve done, but Gabriel’s guarded eyes, clutching his Bible like it might save him—it all feels like a mask hiding something he’s not ready to let anyone see.

But it’s Y/N who fills his thoughts, rising above the noise, her face, her voice pulling him in like a lifeline. He doesn’t know when it happened, maybe even before the world went to hell, but the thought of a world without her is one he can’t bear. Hell, he’d already tried that—already felt what it was like to think she was gone, that she’d disappeared along with everything else after the prison. And the guilt that settled in after...those days with Beth, thinking he might find something in someone else’s company, feels like a faint shadow now. She had been a flicker of light in the dark, but nothing—nothing—like what he has with Y/N.

For a moment, he pictures her beside him not just in these ruins, not just surviving day to day, but something different, something that isn’t about waiting or putting things off like the world they left behind. He wants that with her, whatever “that” means out here. She’s been a part of him longer than he’d even known, and all he wants now is to make sure she knows it, to find a way to make it real, even if he can’t find the words yet.

Rick watches him, raising a brow as Daryl fidgets with something in his hand. “You good?” Rick’s voice is careful, a touch of something familiar. "Whatcha got there?”

Daryl’s head snaps up, his grip relaxing just slightly as he opens his hand, giving Rick a glimpse of what he’s been holding tight. Rick’s gaze drops, surprise flickering in his eyes, quickly replaced by something else—a glimmer of warmth, something Daryl hasn’t seen in a long time.

Rick’s mouth edges up, a small, genuine smile, and he glances back at the path ahead.

“What?” Daryl asks, maybe a little too defensively, his own heart hammering at the question.

Rick chuckles quietly, his tone lowering, almost as if he’s talking more to himself than anyone else. “Just happy for ya. We all need somethin’ good.” He pauses, his voice softer, “She needs somethin’ good.”

The words hit Daryl hard, settling deep in his chest. He feels the weight of what he’s holding, a quiet promise he’s not sure how to share, but one he’ll keep close for her.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

You

The low hum of voices and soft laughter fills the room as everyone settles into the warmth the church walls provide. Contentment settles over you as you lean back against the pew, watching Glenn eagerly reach for seconds and Maggie nudge him, laughing softly. You glance over at Daryl, the warm candlelight flickering over his face, casting shadows along his cheekbones. He’s licking his lips, catching a hint of sauce on his mouth, and there’s a crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he glances at you, something knowing and soft there that feels like it was always meant just for you. From your quiet corner, both of you sit apart from the others, content to watch them for a while. There’s a warmth in the air, a sense of safety none of you have felt in a long time, and the satisfaction of full bellies—something you know many of you have been missing for far too long.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, looking over at Daryl beside you, “for going out there for all of this.”

“Wasn’t just me,” he gruffs, eyes dropping to his hands. He licks the remnants of food from his fingers, and you can’t help but watch the way his lips purse around each one, how the candlelight makes his skin look almost golden. He catches you looking, smirking slightly. “Surprised you kept your promise fer once,” he teases, voice low, barely above a mumble.

“Oh, yeah? Wha’s that supposed to mean?” You lean into him, your voice light and challenging.

“Actually stayed put when ya said ya would,” he teases back, leaning closer. He’s relaxed, in his own Daryl way, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tugs at something deep inside you. You roll your eyes and set your plate down, pulling your legs up close, hugging them to your chest as you turn to him. His gaze meets yours, holding it for a beat longer than usual. There’s an energy in the air, something tender and open between you, pulling you closer until you’re so near, you can feel the warmth of his breath.

You reach over, fingers just brushing his cheek before he leans into it. It feels like gravity pulling you together, and before either of you can think twice, his lips are on yours, soft and tentative. You have had enough of pretending like you didn’t want to spend every waking moment savoring him, being this close after what you’d been through. There’s a sweetness to his kiss, a hint of shyness, like he’s still testing how close he can let himself get, even now. But he lets his hand come up, fingers curling around the back of your neck, drawing you in deeper. His thumb brushes along your jaw, and the softness of his touch nearly breaks you, making you feel like the world around you has fallen away. 

When he pulls back, his cheeks are tinged pink, eyes flickering down briefly before he clears his throat, almost like he’s caught off guard by his own feelings. He’s close, still leaning in, the hand on the back of your neck now wrapping around your own fingers. His free hand fumbles in his pocket before he produces something, shaking just slightly. He opens his palm to reveal a simple, thin gold band, the light catching on its smooth surface.

“Found it…” he starts, voice rough, “at the food bank. Damn walker had it on, but I thought…it just…looked like somethin’ that would suit ya.”

You can see the awkwardness creeping over him, his eyes shifting away, his thumb rubbing the side of the ring as if he’s trying to gather the words together in his mind. His gaze flickers back to yours, and he shifts, seeming to struggle to stay still under the weight of what he wants to say.

“Ain't much for sayin’ stuff like this, you know that, but…” He swallows, his eyes catching yours with a rare softness, “All that time apart, every second…it felt like I was losin’ my mind, like I was losin’ somethin’ I didn’t know how to name. Hell, you’re the only damn thing that’s ever made sense, really.”

He looks down at the ring, then back at you, the vulnerability in his gaze almost breaking your heart. “I don’t ever wanna be apart from ya again, ya hear? Been wantin’ this—whatever this is, been wantin’ it since the start, I just didn’t get it back then. You were always…” he pauses, his thumb brushing your hand, “center of it all. Since we were kids. Hell, even through that mess with Shane. You were it, even then. Just took me a while to figure out what was goin’ on up here,” he mutters, tapping the side of his head. “You’re the center of everythin’ for me, always have been.”

He clears his throat, swallowing hard as he lifts the ring between you both. “So…you think maybe…maybe you’d wanna…be mine? Be my... my wife?” His voice is barely more than a whisper, his gaze full of hope and the slightest tremor of fear.

The quiet intimacy of the room melts away everything else around you, leaving just the soft glow of the candles and the feeling of Daryl’s hand wrapped around yours. His words hang in the air, filling the silence with something both fragile and heavy. You can feel your heart pounding, every beat echoing his words back at you as his thumb gently rubs over your knuckles. His voice is so raw, so open—more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard it. The look in his eyes reaches deep inside you, stirring a warmth that feels both achingly familiar and yet entirely new.

Without even realizing it, you reach up again, brushing your fingers along the rough edge of his jaw, your touch tender and careful. Your hand trembles as you move it, and you feel a faint, almost giddy smile tugging at your lips as you try to steady yourself. He watches you, waiting, his gaze full of nervousness and hope, and you feel your chest tighten again at the vulnerability you see in him.

You glance down at the ring, touching it lightly, letting your fingers brush over his palm as you look back up at him, heart racing. “You don’t even know,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion, and you let out a shaky laugh, glancing down as you blink back the tears that blur your vision. “From the very start, Daryl. Since we were kids, then even when we didn’t talk, when things got…messy. You were there, always a part of me,” You pause, the memories rushing through your mind. “I think, even then, you were already everything to me. But I was too scared to understand it.”

You swallow, the words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been waiting all this time to find their way to him. “Through everything—losing people, the farm, Shane, and then when I thought I’d lost you for good when the prison fell and I…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t bring yourself to finish the thought. The memory of that emptiness, of thinking he was gone forever, sits like a weight in your chest, and a tear slips down your cheek. You squeeze his hand, grounding yourself in his warmth.

“I don’t want to go through this world without you. I can’t. I won't.” Your voice is barely more than a murmur, your thumb brushing along his knuckles as your other hand cups his face, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips. “You’re it for me, Daryl… the center of my everything too. I don’t know if I’ve ever been sure of anything, but I’ve always been sure of you.”

A quiet, overwhelming joy rises in you, mixed with all the love you’d never put into words until now. “Yes, Daryl… yes, of course, yes,” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours, steadying you. You let out a breathless laugh, one hand still resting against his cheek as you watch his face, seeing a softness in his eyes that he rarely lets anyone see.

He lets out a small, almost relieved breath, his gaze fixed on you like he’s afraid this moment might slip away. You lean forward, meeting his lips in a kiss that holds everything—every unspoken promise, every moment you’ve shared, every piece of your heart that’s been his all along. It’s soft, warm, a kind of love you feel down to your bones.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, and his fingers, a little shaky, slide the ring onto your finger. It’s a simple, worn band, but in his hands, it’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile, feeling more whole than you have in a long, long time.

Just as you’re catching your breath, feeling the warmth of Daryl’s hand in yours, a loud whoop cuts through the soft murmurs in the room. You turn, startled, to see Rick grinning wide, hands clapped together as he lets out a hearty, joyful cheer. The rest of the group catches on, and suddenly, laughter and clapping fill the room. Faces light up with smiles, everyone cheering, and you can’t help but feel the blush spread hot across your cheeks. Daryl grunts beside you, scratching the back of his neck, his usual awkward discomfort more obvious than ever.

From somewhere in the crowd, Glenn hollers, “Hey, Father Gabriel, think you can ordain a wedding on the fly?” He’s laughing, but Maggie’s already in front of you, pulling you both up from the pew, her face bright with excitement.

“Oh, c’mon! Let’s make it official!” she says, guiding you both toward the front, and Daryl shoots you a helpless look that makes you laugh even more.

As Father Gabriel steps up, he clears his throat, looking as surprised as he is pleased. You and Daryl share a look—half-embarrassed, half-disbelieving—as Gabriel begins reciting some heartfelt words, ones you can barely hear over the pounding of your heart and the laughter echoing around the room.

"By the power invested in me," Gabriel announces, with a solemnity that almost makes the whole thing seem real, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The room erupts into louder cheers, and you look up at Daryl, grinning. He stares back at you with that same look of wonder, that softness, before his hand slips to the back of your neck and pulls you close for another kiss, sealing the moment as husband and wife. The cheers get louder--as loud as this world would allow without inviting any unwanted guests--and you’re both laughing, happiness bubbling up in you so overwhelming it almost hurts.

But before you can get too caught up in it, Daryl pulls back, shaking his head, his face flushed as he turns to the group. “Alright, enough’a this!” he grunts with a playful glare. He scoops you up into his arms, catching you off guard, and everyone smiles as he turns, heading for the back office. “Gotta get away from you people! Ain’t nothin’ private ‘round here,” he calls over his shoulder, a gruff smile breaking through.

With everyone still laughing and cheering behind you, Daryl carries you out of the room, his face softening as he glances down at you, something quiet and tender in his eyes. It’s a moment that feels like yours alone, and for once, everything feels right. You’re finally his, and he’s finally yours.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

OPs tags

there's something about the way his gaze immediately goes to her in the first gif and then he gives her practical advice to keep herself distracted from her fear idk i just love that in the first few episodes when lucy's still easily spooked lockwood doesn't really judge the fear it's the whole 'normal never fixed anything' thing he knows how talented she is and he doesn't shame her for the strengths she doesn't have just leans into her strengths and tries to figure out how to work with her weaknesses and help her work on them the look on her face as he's talking--like he's offering a lifeline and she's eagerly taking it also: the way he keeps his eyes on her as he walks past for just a little longer than makes sense

LOCKWOOD & CO. 1.01

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Braiding Practice- Fili Durin x OC

Fili Durin x Celeste Nasrin

Description: By this point everyone in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield knew that if they wanted to know anything about a different race’s culture, Celeste was the one to ask. That’s why she was the one Kili approached for advice.

Word Count: 1.6k

By this point everyone in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield knew that if they wanted to know anything about a different race’s culture, Celeste was the one to ask. After many years of studying the behavior of most races Middle Earth had to offer while she traveled for business with her father, she’d learned quite a few things. Now she knew just about all there was to know about whatever someone wished to learn.

As a matter of fact, it was the entire reason that Bilbo, Pandora and Nessa stayed with the Company. It was no secret that Dwarves were rather secretive and hated outsiders. Celeste was one of the few who saw reason and knew that all three of the newcomers were needed for this quest. So, she reached a lifeline by attempting to relate to them. She usually did that by striking up a conversation about their lives and in exchange, she told them about herself. And it worked, she’d successfully managed to form a bond with the Hobbit, the Fairy and the Elf that would ensure their stay in the Company.

Her success with them was the exact reason why she was the one Kili approached for advice. The Company had taken a break after walking for almost four days without rest, and Celeste had decided to use their temporary free time to fix her fiance’s hair. She’d been rebraiding a few smaller braids in Fili’s hair when she heard someone approaching them. Upon turning around, she was met with the younger Durin brother.

“Hello Kili,” she greeted with a relaxed smile, moving Fili’s head to face forward when he faced his left, wishing to see who she was talking to. “Having a good break?” Her gaze was focused on the task at hand, so she didn’t see the nervous look on her future brother-in-law’s face.

“I need your help Celeste,” the boy responded, getting straight to the point. His words made her pause, and she looked at him confusedly. Normally she would make a joke at his expense for saying something like that, but the borderline desperation in his tone made her restrain herself. She quickly finished the braid she was working on and tied it at the end before facing Kili head on.

“Is everything okay, nadad (brother)?” She asked worriedly.

“Everything’s fine, namad (sister),” he reassured her, which made her relax. “Well, for the most part. What I need help with isn’t just a simple matter, but a matter of the heart.” Celeste’s eyebrows shot up at that, and both she and Fili stared at him in shock. She was the first to snap out of it and she offered him a small smile.

“Would it happen to have something to do with the Fund (Elf)?” She asked in a knowing tone. The deep blush that coated Kili’s cheeks was more than enough answer for her. Despite the fact that all three of them knew that Nessa couldn’t speak Khuzdul, Kili couldn’t help but glance back at her to make sure she wasn’t listening. Sure enough, she was engaged in a conversation with Gemma and Pandora, much to his relief. Celeste watched the interaction with an amused smile, sharing a quick glance with Fili.

“Do you know the courting customs of Elves?” Though they saw it coming, neither Fili nor his fiance could hide their surprise.

“Wait, you’re actually considering courting her?” Fili questioned, though he hadn’t meant anything rude by it.

“I am,” his brother answered honestly. “She’s intelligent, and beautiful, and fun, and caring, and… she’s just amazing.” That was a good enough answer for Celeste.

“I do know a few things about courting amongst Elves,” she answered, which made the boy perk up.

“Can you tell me?” He asked eagerly. The girl nodded and patted the seat beside her fiance, which he sat in.

“Well, to start with, Elves are noble, proud, highly intelligent, as well as caring. However, they are very distant creatures. They love strongly, yet their love is hard to earn because when they wish to find a companion, it’s for the rest of their immortal life. If you’d like to initiate a courtship, you have to start by trying to impress them,” she explained.

“Like when I invited her to target practice last time we took a break?” Kili asked, earning a nod from her.

“Exactly. So that means that you’ve essentially initiated the courtship without even realizing it, nice job Kili,” she answered, smiling when the boy blushed. “And, she reciprocated it by playing her flute for you afterwards.”

“So what happens next?”

“Hair braiding,” she responded, simply. “One of the biggest similarities between Elves and Dwarves’ courting customs is the braiding of hair ritual. The best way to officially ask Nessa to court you is by asking to braid her hair.”

“Wait, seriously?” Fili asked, shocked.

“Of course. I will admit that though Elven courting traditions do involve braiding each other’s hair, Elves don’t take it as seriously as Dwarves because they believe that there are more ways than just that to signify someone’s love for another. But, they still only let those that are close to them touch their hair. Not only that but an Elf’s hair is much more silky and smooth, so a dwarf’s braid would likely ruin it. Obviously that’s not something you want, so you would have to be especially careful and would probably have to learn how to make an elf’s braid. There are a few that I know of.”

“Can you teach me?” Kili asked softly. It was a simple question, but it still managed to stump Celeste. It was tradition that Dwarves only braid their kin/spouse’s hair, and obviously she wasn’t related to Kili or courting him. Fili seemed to understand her inner turmoil because he suddenly grabbed her hand. The action made her look at him, only to be met with his usual kind smile.

“It’s okay kurdel (heart of hearts),” he said softly. “I don’t mind.” The girl hesitated for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” the Dwarf shrugged. “You two are practically brother and sister anyways, so you’re basically kin now.” That was all the reassurance she needed to face Kili with a wide smile.

“Let’s do it.”

So, the rest of the night was spent with Celeste teaching Kili how to braid hair as delicately as he could while Fili watched. The three of them made conversation between her teaching and many laughs were shared. Celeste was so happy that her future brother trusted her to educate him for something so important, and it warmed her heart that he was so willing to explore different courting customs for a girl he had feelings for just so she could be more comfortable.

And, though he hadn’t explicitly said anything, she knew that Fili was happy that she and his brother were getting along so well. Aside from his mother, his younger brother’s opinion of his relationship was the most important thing to him. Of course, he didn’t need to worry about anything because Kili and Celeste got on exceedingly well within minutes of meeting each other. Their relationship with each other only got stronger from there and, like Fili said, they were practically siblings by this point even if he and Celeste weren’t married.

Just a few days later the Company was taking another break. As usual, Fili and Celeste were sitting by the campfire wrapped in each other’s arms comfortably. Conversations were minimal as they were both rather tired. They were content to just be in each other’s company, at least until Thorin approached them.

“Have either of you seen Kili and Nessa?” He asked. Though his voice was low and stoic as usual, Celeste could detect a hint of worry in his tone. Her brows furrowed and she shared a glance with her fiance before they faced the King once again.

“I haven’t,” Fili answered.

“Weren’t they supposed to be scouting the perimeter to make sure it was safe?” Celeste added curiously, earning a nod from Thorin.

“Yes, but they left before nightfall. It has been dark for almost an hour,” he explained. “I thought they’d be back by now.”

“Well, would you like us to go look for them?” The older Durin brother asked.

“If it doesn’t trouble you too much,” his uncle answered.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Celeste answered easily. The two of them untangled themselves from each other and stood, beginning to make their way away from the camp where they knew Kili and Nessa had gone.

It only took them half an hour to find the duo, and once they did they were surprised by the sight that greeted them. They sat in a beautiful medium sized clearing in the forest covered in green grass. Beneath the grass was earth not too damp so they could walk on it without muddying their shoes and clothes. The surrounding trees and brush stood tall and flourished even in the dark of the night. All of it had been lit up by just the bright moon above.

The scenery wasn’t what caught their attention, though. It was Kili and Nessa. The Elf sat on a large log with Kili behind her. Celeste couldn’t hide her joy upon realizing that her brother was deftly braiding the girl’s hair as gracefully as he could. While he was doing that, they were talking and laughing about something that she and Fili couldn’t quite hear. It gave her a sense of deja vu as their joy and peace reminded her of when she and Fili began courting. She watched the serene scene in front of them for another minute before carefully taking her fiance’s hand in hers, making him look at her.

“I’m sure we can give them a few more minutes, don’t you?” She asked softly. The couple shared a small smile, then he nodded.

“Yeah. Uncle will be fine.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Distraction

Summary: Meeting a single Dad on the plane back to the states was maybe just the distraction you needed to get over your fear of flying.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: reader is afraid of flying, one panic attack

A/N: First time writing for Frankie. I don’t know about fear of flying or about babies, so of course I decided to write about both 🙈 Let me know if you like it 😂

Masterlist

taglist in reblog

Maybe it was time to find a new job. A job that didn’t require traveling to other continents at least once a year. You could be a barista. Or… any work that would require you staying on the ground where you belonged. Not in a tiny capsule that traveled way too fast and way too high.

You felt anxious throughout the whole day when you knew you had to go on a plane. It wasn’t even the height you were scared of. You couldn’t describe it. You always were very independent. Maybe it was the fact that you had to trust a stranger not to fuck up and make the plane crash. You didn’t know who would be the pilot. Of course, you knew that they were all trained professionals, they have to be but… ugh. Overthinking. You were overthinking again. Handing the stewardess your boarding pass she smiled kindly at you and you tried to smile back before you sighed and slowly walked down towards the plane.

As soon as your nose smelled the engine (yes you could smell it) you felt like your stomach wouldn’t make it. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep, trying to remember that millions of people did this every day. Opening your eyes you looked at the plane door where a man was just climbing in, a baseball cap on his head. He was carrying a baby that was sleeping on his shoulder as if nothing else mattered. You smiled softly. If a baby could do it, you could too.

Nope. No you couldn’t.

You felt your throat getting dryer the further you walked into the plane in search of your seat. You never sat at the window, always in the middle. You read that it was more safe once. When you arrived in the row you would be sitting you couldn’t help but smile, finding the man with the baby sitting on the window seat, the baby carrier in the middle seat. He looked up and you were met with warm brown eyes. His hand was on the baby’s back, almost covering it entirely. He gave you a tired smile and you nodded.

“Hi,” you whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

“Hey,” he nodded quietly. You took your coat off, putting it in the cabinet over the seat, and sat down. You intended to work on your way back to the states so you brought your laptop. Pushing your bag under your seat you got out your phone, putting it in flight mode before you secured the seat belt. People were still coming into the plane and you felt yourself getting more nervous. Sucking your bottom lip in, you took out the card with the safety instructions in front of your seat, reading it carefully. Your assigned security exit was just two rows behind that was good to know. You were unaware of the man sitting two seats next to you watching you. You crossed your legs, your sweaty hands on your thigh when they closed the doors. You turned your head as you heard the man next to you mumble in Spanish and noticed that the baby had woken up and was now looking at you with big eyes. She was still lying against the man’s chest, her head just under his chin, his lips kissing her head. You looked at him then, noticing how attractive he was, his eyes closed as he gently rubbed circles on the baby’s back. His base cap sat deep on his head, dark wild curls underneath that peaked out. You never thought a mustache could be attractive but maybe he was the exception.

People were finally settled in their seats and you felt the plane move as the announcement from the boarding crew came for the safety instructions. You heard a tiny whimper and looked at the man. The baby was clearly not happy with the loud voices from the speaker. You wondered why he was alone on a plane on a seven-hour flight back to the states with a baby that couldn’t be much older than maybe four months. A noise made you jump and he looked at you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassed.

“First flight?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I wish it was. That wouldn’t make me being scared so embarrassing,” you sighed, your eyes wandering between him and the baby on his chest. He smiled a little.

“You can’t choose your fears,” he shrugged. He was right you couldn’t.

“I wish I could though. I feel like I’m gonna faint every time I have to fly.”

He looked at you before he began to open a bag that was laying in the baby carrier.

“You probably already heard all kinds of solutions for going over your fear but as a pilot let me assure you, that it’s perfectly safe.” He seemed to have found what he was searching for, a baby bottle with milk in his hands.

“You’re a pilot?” you asked fascinated.

“Was. Military. But can’t with this one needing me around,” he kissed the baby’s head.

You smiled. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s my whole world,” he put her in the crook of his left arm, his right hand checking the bottle.

“Gotta make sure the entire plane doesn’t hate me for bringing you on here, baby girl,” he said quietly. She looked up at him with big eyes, her little arms going up as he brought the bottle in her line of view and you chuckled. He looked at you, giving you a soft smile.

“It’s our second flight but she’s a trooper,” he explained. “Feeding her during take-off and landing helps with the ear pressure,” he explained.

“Are we taking off already?” you asked, feeling the nervous flutter inside your belly.

“I can talk you through it, if you want to?” he offered as he brought the bottle down and the baby began to suck eagerly just when the plane seemed to be in starting position.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you shook your head.

“I wouldn’t have offered, if it would bother me,” there it was again, that shy smile that made your heart seem to stop for a second.

“Okay. Thank you…”

“Frankie,” he offered.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you smiled.

You still felt nervous after an hour in the air but now you weren’t sure if it was the flight or the man sitting next to you. Finding an attractive and, as you found out, single Dad that looked at his baby girl like it was his whole world, didn’t help to settle your nerves or ovaries. But you would take this kind of nervousness in a heart beat instead of your fear of flying. He had talked you through every little step on what the pilot would be doing. It may vary from flying a helicopter as he did, but the steps were the same. He had squeezed your hand that was grabbing the seat like a lifeline an hour ago. You swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand.

Sofia, the 3 ½-month-old girl that was his daughter was now laying in the baby carrier in the middle seat, her hand squeezing your finger as she slept. Every thought of working on your project was gone as you looked down at the sleeping baby.

“She’s got a pretty hard grasp,” you said looking down at her.

“Yeah. She’s so big already. I can’t believe it,” Frankie said. You looked up, seeing him lift his hat, his hand running through his hair before he put his cap back on. You smiled at him.

“What brought you over here?” you asked. He made a face.

“One of my military friends was wounded.”

“Oh. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Thank you for asking.”

“I wish I had friends like that. Flying for me over the globe in a heartbeat,” you sighed, trying to overplay the sadness in your face.

“Oh I’m sure you have someone,” he mused.

“I used to. But I moved across the country after my father died and I never really got settled in where I live now if that makes sense?”

“Well, why don’t you hang out with me… uh us?” Frankie suggested. You looked up at him.

“Careful with an offer like that. I might just say yes to hang out with Sofia,” you teased. As if she could hear you, she squeezed your finger and you just about melted.

“She’s great to hang out with, I’ll give her that,” Frankie said “But can she hold an hour-long conversation with a beautiful woman?”

You looked up then, seeing him look at you and you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Guess I’ll have to talk to you until she can, huh?” you teased.

“Guess so,” he shrugged, a small smirk on his lips.

Frankie had just left to use the bathroom, leaving Sofia under your watchful eyes when her eyes blinked open. She seemed to look for her Dad until she looked at you. You could see her small lips pouting, her face frowning and your heart broke before she had even whimpered for the first time. Carefully you took her out of the baby carrier, hoping Frankie would be okay with you taking her out and took her into your arms. She was fully crying now.

“Shh…” you mumbled, propping her up so she was lying in the crook of your arm.

“Dad’s gonna be here any minute now, sweet Sofia,” you said soothingly. She didn’t stop. Sighing you changed so she was with her head on your shoulder as you got up from your seat. Maybe taking a little walk with her would help. You run your hand over her back like you had seen Frankie did before as you walked down the aisle and her cries got quieter until they stopped when you were close to the cockpit.

“There you go. You just wanted to see something different, huh, baby girl?” you asked whispering soothingly.

“Where’s your papa? What’s taking him so long?” you ask, beginning to walk back towards the seat. Frankie’s wasn’t back so you took Sofia down to the other side of the plane. You giggled as you found Sofia grab your hair and pulling lightly.

“Hey… Do you do that with your Dad’s hair too?” you asked, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer. You pulled her from your shoulder and she looked at you with big eyes as you put her in your arm so she could look up at you. Passing an older lady you smiled.

“She looks just like you,” the woman smiled softly as she looked down at Sofia who was still looking at you. You felt your cheeks getting warm again.

“Oh... I’m not…” you began but she only nodded at you and walked back to her seat. Confused you walked further until you saw Frankie walking towards you. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at you and you hoped you didn’t overstep.

“I’m sorry. She was crying and…”

“She likes you,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek and she smiled, clearly noticing her Dad was back.

“You want her back?” you ask, secretly hoping he didn’t.

“I think she looks very comfortable where she is,” he said. You looked up, finding him looking at you. He was taller than you but he was close. So close. You didn’t notice the spot on his jaw that was beard free before and you found yourself wanting to kiss him there. Kiss him everywhere. You gulped, looking down again.

“Let’s get back to our seat, huh, little lady?” you asked and walked back.

Sofia was sleeping again and you were trying to read your book. And not think about the man sitting two seats next to you. You looked at him from the side and found him always already looking at you. You felt like a teenager. You had to smile to yourself, thinking that must have been the longest date you had ever been on. You chuckled to yourself which made Frankie look at you, an eyebrow raised. You just shook your head embarrassed.

“I was thinking…” he began.

“Yes?” you asked.

“Can I invite you for a drink?”

You blinked at him, sucking your bottom lip in. You were about to answer when the whole plane shook with a turbulence and you sucked your breath in harshly. For a moment you had forgotten where you were.

“Shit…” you whispered to yourself, leaning with your head against the seat, closing your eyes, while your fingernails grabbed into the seat. The plane shook again and you breathed in and out to control your rising panic.

“Hey…” you felt someone grab your hand. You were too scared to open your eyes.

“It’s just some minor turbulence. We gonna be out of it in no time,” it was Frankie. He felt how your hand was shaking and didn’t let go.

“Just breathe. Can you open your eyes for me?” he asked. You shook your head, squeezing his hand harder.

“I know you can, look at me Hermosa,” you could sense that he was closer. Turning your head towards his side you opened your eyes.

“There you are, now breathe with me,” he looked at you and you got lost in his eyes as he breathed with you and you felt yourself calm down.

“That’s better. You made it,” he smiled. He was still holding your hand.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you said quietly. He leaned down, kissing the back of your hand he was still holding and you shivered when his lips connected with your skin.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled.

He didn’t let your hand go until Sofia woke up and demanded very loudly for her bottle.

It was you who gave Sofia her bottle as the plane landed and it made you forget about your fear of flying. Frankie watched you the whole time and it made your heart flutter. You wanted this. Only 7 hours ago you were on another continent and alone and now you had the baby of a man you met on a plane in your arms you didn’t want to let go.

You never even thought about children. There never was someone you could imagine having children with. It was always you. Just you.

But Frankie had shown you more attention in the last hours than any other person ever since your father died. You were lonely, you knew that. But you had made your peace with it. You were enough. But maybe you didn’t have to be just enough. Maybe you wanted to be more. Maybe Frankie wanted to be more.

The plane stopped and you smiled sadly down at Sofia in your arms. Slowly you put her in the baby carrier and she wasn’t happy about it. You almost cried.

“Come on you were so good the whole time…” Frankie whined and you giggled. He looked at you with a playful pout.

“I think she misses you already,” he said and you sighed.

“I’ll miss her too,” you smiled down at her, your hand brushing over her head and she took hold of one of your fingers again, making you chuckle.

You helped let Frankie out to get his stuff first, staying seated with Sofia. He gave you your coat and you reached for your bag under the seat before you got out of your seat. He had a backpack on and reached for the baby carrier. You were the last people on the plane. You waited until he had everything before you slowly walked towards the exit of the plane. Thanking the stewardess who was standing near the cockpit with a smile you got out of the plane, thankful to finally be on solid ground. You were about to turn around to look where Frankie was when you felt him grab your hand, squeezing it once. There it was, the nervous flutter in your belly again as you looked up at him and saw his small smile.

You were standing together waiting for your suitcase. Frankie had put Sofia in her stroller where she was sleeping peacefully. He already had his suitcase and was waiting for you.

“So…” you began, looking at him. He turned, now facing you fully.

“So?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“I was wondering about that drink you offered?” you asked. He nodded.

“How would you feel about dinner on Saturday? I’ll come and visit you in the big city?” he smiled. You felt your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You couldn’t wait.

“What about Sofia?” you asked.

“My friend can watch her. He owes me and… I want to be alone with you,” he stepped closer and you sucked your bottom lip in as you looked up.

“It’s only an hour drive, please say yes…” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Great. You have to get a table I have no idea what’s good over there. I’m more of a country guy…” he brought his hand up, cupping your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“How about I cook dinner?” you offered, “So we truly are alone,” you clarified.

He leaned down, his lips brushing over yours softly and you closed your eyes, your hand clutching his soft shirt. He leaned his forehead against yours when he parted from your lips, breathing deeply.

“Yeah. Alone. I like to be alone with you,” he whispered, his nose brushing over yours. You nodded before you took a step back.

“Saturday?” you asked as you walked out.

“Saturday,” he replied and kissed you again.

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Good News...? (Harry Styles x Reader)

Warning: Angst

A/N: It would be nice to hear your views on the fic :-)

Summary: Harry wants a baby, you don’t. Angst ensues.

“So, when are we hearing the good news?” Your husband’s aunt asked you excitedly. You barely stopped yourself from retorting something that would most certainly tarnish your reputation amongst your in-laws.

This was not the first time someone had asked the two of you about having a baby and you knew this would definitely not be the last.

“Hopefully sometime soon, auntie.” Your husband let out a little laugh.

You turned your head towards him, your eyebrows furrowed as if asking him a question; one that he didn’t seem to catch as he continued talking to his relative.

You left his side to look for something other than champagne to drink, murmuring a little excuse me and passing a smile to his aunt who had now moved on to tell your spouse about her friend who recently had a miscarriage because she and her husband got pregnant too late.

You walked towards the kitchen, swiftly passing by all the other guests before they got the chance to say hello. You had lost all your cheery mood, and could not be bothered to act more proper.

The kitchen seemed to be the only place in the entire house which was somewhat empty. You beelined towards the fridge, champagne was too light to help you go through this evening, you needed something heavier. 

Opening the fridge, your eyes immediately fell upon the lonesome bottle of vodka sitting in the back. You looked around the kitchen, making sure no one was paying attention to you and pulled out your soon-to-be lifeline.

“Rough night?” You turned around at the sudden voice, only to find your mother in law staring back at you, her foot lightly tapping against the floor.

You made a sound of frustration, “Why the only thing they have to talk about is babies?”

Anne’s face softened at your complaint like she understood your concerns, she was there once.

“They are just intrusive people who have nothing better to do, your eyes raised at Anne’s blunt statement; noticing your expression she raised her hands, “You know it’s true, they did the same when I first got married, seems like they found a new target in you.”

Anne took the bottle of vodka from you and poured it in two shot glasses, sliding one to you.

“So, what do I do?”

“Just smile and nod, occasionally let out a little laugh, that’s really all you can do. Anne’s advice didn’t help to ease your mind but at least now you knew she was on your side. The truth is it wasn’t the relatives’ words that were bothering you, it was Harry’s.

You tipped your head back and drank the shot, feeling the burn run down your throat. That definitely helped.

“Thanks, mum now I guess I have to go find my hubby.” You left the kitchen, a little more prepared to take on your inquisitive relatives.

“Y/n where were you? I was looking all around.” Harry clasped your elbows and pulled you aside.

“I was just in the kitchen looking for a drink, then I started talking to mum.” Harry started to say something—

— “Hey lovebirds, what are you doing here hiding in a corner?” Harry and you moved apart a bit and found Harry’s other aunt grinning at both of you.

You both looked around the room and almost everyone was now turned towards the lot of you.

“Honey, I think we all know when a married couple is hiding in a corner there can only be two things they must be doing,” uncle Matthews claimed loudly, a slight slur in his voice, but face lit up with excitement. 

Aunt Matilda’s forehead wrinkled in confusion as she tilted her head to the side, figuring out the meaning of her husband’s implications, her expression soon morphed into a big smile, “They can either be fighting or be doing the complete opposite,” she waggled her eyebrows in suggestion, “Which one is it, dearies?”

Uncle Dan tilted his head back and let out a boisterous laugh, which prompted everyone else to join him, some people even started cheering.

You plastered a big smile on your face, nodding a little; you made sure to chuckle occasionally, and then kept your head downwards, not even meeting eyes with Harry until everybody went back to mingling with each other.

But Aunt Matilda remained by your side the entire evening, thankfully now indulging in and asking you about your work, and you were extremely happy to oblige.

“So you’re now the head at your office?

“Yeah, I got a promotion only a few months ago. The hours have definitely increased but we make it work, right Baby?” Your eyes met Harry’s green ones. Your mind was a lot more calm, even with a shot of vodka running through your bloodstream.

“Of course. I am so proud of her,” his dimples more prominent than it had been the whole evening.

“Aww look at the two of you, so cute,” she reached forward and grabbed each of your and Harry’s hand, “Have you both decided on getting pregnant yet? don’t you think it's time?"

You almost rolled your eyes, no matter where you went, it seemed impossible to escape the baby question.

You pressed your lips together and left the question for Harry to answer, “Yeah, hopefully, we'll have good news real soon," the dimples didn't leave Harry's face at all.

She turned towards you, as if to confirm Harry's statement, you pulled your cheeks back in a smile and nodded lightly. 

Her eyebrows raised a little in surprise, a big smile graced her lips, "Well that's lovely," She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, "Oh, can you imagine a little Harry running around the house?"

Harry, still smiling, nodded along. While you cast your eyes sideways and around the room until they landed on Anne.

Anne tossed her head backwards in greeting and you passed her a pleading look, directing her eyes to the still talking Aunt Matilda.

Anne shook in silent laughter, relating to your situation a little too much. She nodded her head and walked away.

Your parted your lips, unsure of Anne's plan. But guessed she had experienced pesky relatives enough times to learn how to deal with them.

Your guesses were confirmed when Anne's voice called out to everyone that dinner was set up. You lifted your head upwards and thanked your stars but most importantly, your mother in law.

Aunt Matilda left to join the rest of the family.

Harry offered his elbow to you, his back completely straight, "Shall we go for dinner m'lady?" He asked in a posh accent.

You laughed at the goofball but declined the dinner, you couldn't take any more of his family.

His forehead crinkled, "But why?"

You hated lying, especially to your husband, "I am not feeling well, I guess" you shrugged your shoulders, guilt slowly creeping up on you.

His eyes softened as he brought his hand closer to the side of your face and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Okay, you go rest upstairs, I'll deal with the fam."

You pressed your lips tightly to not make a noise, but you were still shaking, trying not to burst out laughing, "fam?"

Harry moved his lips into a pout, a red tint making an appearance on his cheeks, shut up.

You placed a kiss on his left cheek and made your way up the stairs, leaving him standing in the middle of the room. 

You were still smiling when you entered the second room to the left and were instantly met with all the posters from when Harry was a kid. You glanced at each one by one, your attention then taken by his old Manchester United t-shirt hung on the wall.

You opened the window and sat down on the bed, finally away from all the people. You loved this room the best out of all in the entire house. It showed Harry's true essence; he still had his old model cars lined neatly on the shelf, along with pictures of his old mates.

The room was filled up to the brim with silence and the smell of Chinese food from next door lingered in the air. You felt calm.

The door opened with a little creak, you turned to see Harry entering his room. He placed himself next to you and lied down, taking you with him. Together you both laid on a single bed surrounded with trinkets from Harry's childhood.

It was probably very late in the night and you were still awake. Harry's breath tickled your neck, but you didn't want to disturb him. His statements from earlier this evening came back to you.

You were wondering if Harry had been wanting a child but didn't say anything. You also got worried imagining why he didn't tell you. But most importantly, were you ready for a child?

Before you realised, sunlight filtered through the room and Harry was up. As he was getting dressed, you feared for the conversation you were about to bring up.

"Wake up, sweetie. It's almost time for breakfast," Harry whispered by your ear. You couldn't wait any longer.

"H, Do you want to have a kid?"

Absolute silence surrounded you.

"Harry talk to me. Please." You were on the verge of begging to get him to say something, anything. But you were with nothing.

Harry let out a sigh and sat down on the bed. You got up from your lying position and brought yourself next to him.

"Yes, I do. I really do." A lone tear ran down his left cheek. He immediately wiped it away.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" You didn't know why you asked this question, you both knew the answer.

"Because I wasn't sure if you were ready," he turned his body towards you, you could see he was holding his breath and his eyes were slightly widened, "Are you?"

You closed your eyes, you were turning in your bed the whole night thinking exactly about this. You then met his eyes, they were waiting eagerly for your answer, "No."

Harry let out the breath he was holding, and looked down for a moment before rejoining your previously held eye contact, "Why? I remember very clearly that we talked about kids before getting married, why are you refusing now?"

His voice was increasing in volume with every word, "I didn't say anything for the longest while, hoping maybe one day you will, and now you are saying that you don't want to have kids." He stood up from the bed and you could see his hands were now clenched into a fist.

You were really nervous, you didn't expect this reaction from Harry, he was usually such a calm person, "I am not saying that I don't want to have kids ever, but you have to understand Harry, things have changed. I am the head of my firm now and you are away on tour for months on end,"

You stood up as well, your volume was now matching his, " How are we supposed to raise a kid when we are not there to raise the goddamn kid?" You took deep breaths to calm yourself and made a mental note to not raise your voice moving forward, shouting at each other wouldn't help anybody.

"Every couple in the world figures it out, we will as well. I want to have my own baby, Y/n, what am I supposed to do?" his voice was barely audible now, his shoulders slumped and he sat back down on his bed, "What am I supposed to do?"

You didn't have an answer so you just stood there, hoping for a miracle to happen while the silence once again engulfed you two.

"Harry, Y/n breakfast is ready," Anne's voice interrupted the uncomfortable silence between you. You thanked her in your mind, she had lately become a saviour for you.

Harry and you walked down the stairs to join Anne in the dining room, the silent tension following you.

During the entirety of breakfast, Anne was the only one talking. There was no chance she hadn't heard your fight. This was a small house and you both were being pretty loud. 

She filled in you two about the events of last night's dinner, which weren’t in the least bit interesting and she ended up just describing what each member of the family was eating.

You two were eager for this temporary distraction and let her go on and on about essentially nothing, "You know how Mike is allergic to mushrooms? So, when he started removing them from his chicken, Aunt Matilda scolded him to finish his dinner as if he were a kid," Anne laughed.

You stopped eating your pancakes for a moment to fake a laugh for her sake. she was helping you get through the breakfast, the least you could do was meet her halfway as she was bullshitting through a story.

Soon after breakfast, it was time for you both to return to your place in London. Frankly, you were dreading the trip back home. You would rather live in your husband's childhood home for a few more days than suffer through a 3-hour journey in your current situation.

Unfortunately, you had a life to get back to, so an uncomfortable long drive was the only option.

Harry stood up to prepare for the trip back home. Anne stopped you before you could leave as well, "You okay?" her eyes were soft and full of concern for you, "I heard the fight, will you be okay going back home right now?"

Your heart filled up with love for the woman you now called mum, she didn't ask for an explanation of your fight, all she cared about was you.

"I'll be okay. Thanks, mum," you nodded your head, staring straight into her eyes. You were almost sure yours were glistening.

Harry came into the room, "Y/n, we should go or we'll be late," he stood there for a moment before nodding his head towards his mum and then left through the front door to wait in his car. His voice held little emotion, which made you more anxious about the journey ahead.

You wished your mother in law goodbye and exited the house.

Harry was in the car, wearing his shades when you sat down in the passenger's seat. You realised you had forgotten your weekend bags and opened your mouth to inform Harry, who pointed to the backseat where he had placed them.

The car ride had been one of the most awkward 3 hours you had spent with your husband. It was eerily quiet, which was something new to both of you. You two were never silent, either you would be talking or Harry would be singing a song under his breath or some noise, never complete silence. Even when you were fighting, you would argue each other's heads off.

This was new territory, this fight wouldn't be solved with make-up sex. You had to have an adult conversation about it. You just weren't sure what it would entail. What was the middle ground here?

When you entered your place, before Harry could walk away, you held his elbow, "H, I don't know what to do, but I know that this silence is killing me. Please say something." Your voice was hoarse for some reason and you were barely holding yourself together.

"I need some space," he removed his elbow from your hold and went out the door, leaving you feeling stranded in your own home.

It felt like a dam broke, with the way the tears were falling down your cheeks. You didn't have the time to go up to your room or sit down somewhere before you broke down, so you were currently sat on the floor, arms around your knees which were pressed against your chest.

It was a horrible sight to walk onto, which was exactly the first thing Harry saw when he entered the house after a few hours. You were rolled into a ball in the middle of the room, shaking as the tears flowed freely.

Harry rushed towards you and kneeled down in front of you. He held your face in his hands, making you face him. You could hardly see with the tears obstructing your view and still noticed his glistened eyes. They were swollen and red covered his entire face. He was crying too.

"Please don't cry baby, I am so so sorry. I am an idiot." He took your hands in each of his and made you slap him repeatedly, "I am an idiot, I made a mistake. I am sorry." He started trembling and sobbing at this point.

You couldn't bear to see Harry like this, you stopped him and removed your hands from his grasp. You were frantically shaking your head, "Stop H, please stop it." Your eyes were staring into his.

You both took deep breaths together, slowly calming each other down. You two were on your knees, holding each other, regaining your composure.

Harry spoke first, "What was I thinking, forcing you into having kids? I am so so sorry I acted like a dick Y/n. I don't know what came over me. I promise to never ever act like this again," he shook his head, his eyes moistening again.

You wiped his tears with your thumb, "I want to have kids. I wasn’t lying when I first told you that I wanted kids. You were right, we'll figure something out." You noticed Harry's expression turning uncertain, "But not right now, I need time."

Harry started nodding slowly, "However much you want."

”A year, H, I need one year for us to figure out how we'll handle having a baby and so we can be completely ready before we start trying."

Harry cupped your cheeks and rested his forehead on yours, exhaling lightly, "Absolutely. I'll cut back my time on the road to take care of you and the baby, our mums can help us babysit anytime we need the extra help."

You bit your bottom lip, letting out a small smile, "They'll fucking jump on that opportunity."

You both started chuckling, and before you realised, you were sprawled on the floor, in each other's embrace, laughing.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too, H.” 

[mommymooze]

Nothing is What it Seems

Sylvain x reader

People watching is your favorite hobby. You look over the patrons of the Wilted Rose to see who is cheating at cards, who is picking the other’s pockets and guessing as to what the rest are looking for in such a fine establishment.

Sylvain Gautier has spoken to two different women, apparently striking out every time. He is a subtle as a caveman, you woman, me man, me drag you back to cave for zugzug! It’s everything you can do to keep from laughing out loud. You decide to say hello. He’s been okay to you, well, the you he knows. Maybe you’ll help a guy out.

Approaching him from behind he is completely unaware of your presence. You slap your hand firmly on his shoulder as you whisper in his ear. “Hey.”

Sylvain jumps about five inches off the chair. He successfully suppresses the urge to scream like a little girl as he notices your smile when you sit next to him at the table, putting your mug down and laughing.

Coughing in his hand, trying to gather his composure together he gives a little smile. “I was not expecting that. I certainly wasn’t expecting you! What are you doing down here? A sweet girl like you should never be found in a place like this!”

You slip back into your innocent little girl persona. “I was lost. It’s so nice to see a familiar face.” You give a little tremble, like you are so scared of this spooky place.

A light bulb goes off over Sylvain’s head. An opportunity to be the great savior for this damsel in distress. “This is not the place for a sweet and beautiful flower such as yourself. I would be happy to escort you back to the surface and safety.”

You want to curl your fists under your chin and sigh “my hero!” with stars in your eyes, but that is a little bit too much. You decide to continue with the scaredy cat moves. “T-that would be g-great. It’s dark and c-creepy here.” You mutter, putting your hand over your mouth because if you say one more word you are going to burst out laughing.

“Come, my lady.” Sylvain announces as he holds out his hand. He stands to head out turning his face to the door. You have enough time to quaff your drink before he pulls you towards the exit. You pull the cowl down on your jacket, hiding your face.

Just as you are ready to make the last turn toward the exit, Sylvain stops quickly, making you bump into him.

“What do we have here?” A sultry voice croons.

“I am rescuing this gorgeous damsel from the frightening environment of Abyss.” Sylvain stands tall. “Who knows what evil and nefarious ne’er-do-wells would do to such a petite and beautiful flower.”

Yuri howls with laughter. He hasn’t laughed like that in a long, long time. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looks at Sylvain. “You…*chuckle*…were saving…*gasp snicker* her?!”

“What?” Sylvain has a look of pure shock on his face. “Don’t you know who this is?”

“Oh I doooo. Don’t I?” Yuri snaps his head back to fling his hair back over his shoulder before reaching forward with a perfectly manicured finger under the chin of the small woman at Sylvain’s side.

You look up at him, your face the picture of innocence.

“Don’t try those doe eyes on me, Magpie. We all know about the sharp beak and claws you have.” Yuri grins down at you with a wink.

“Look at her-“ Sylvain waves, “She’s as innocent as a lamb.”

“More like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” Yuri snidely remarks.

“We should go.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

“See ya around, Yuri.” Sylvain says as he pulls you past the leader of the Ashen Wolves.

Finally arriving outside, you shudder one last time for good measure. “Oh Sylvain. Thank you so much.” You throw your arms around his chest, burying your face in his pectoral muscles, you sigh heavily.

“Ahh. You certainly sound relieved.” He grins. “Do you need me to escort you to your room?”

Oh, this man is as subtle as a brick through a window. “I do feel tense and shaken after my experience. I’ll take you up on your kind offer…if that’s okay.” Yes, the quiver in your voice is perfect, the hesitant anxiousness bleeding through. You notice he is bending over a bit, hoping you haven’t noticed that his smaller brain is wanting to join in on the action. You let your arms unwrap from him, reaching out to grab his hand, holding it firmly like he is your lifeline to safety.

He walks you to your door. As you fiddle with the lock he softly touches your shoulder.

“You are so tense. Want to talk with me for a bit? Maybe I can help you calm down?” His voice is silky smooth, his thumb is rubbing in circles on your shoulder.

“Um. Okay.” You mumble as you finally get the door to open. You go to your desk to grab a candle and place it in the holder. Lighting it you place it on your tall dresser. The lightest of air currents causes the light to flicker quite often. You notice that he closes the door behind him as he steps in, and locks it. You take a seat at the table that is closest to your bed and offer the other chair to him.

You fold your hands together on the table, looking down at them. His much larger hands envelope yours.

“Are you feeling a little bit better now?” His eyes are molten caramel as he smiles with his lips, not his teeth, trying to evoke an air of reassuring calm. His hands are stroking yours from the base of your fingers then up to your wrists, slowly going back and forth.

“I’m feeling much better now. I am so glad you came along to save me.” You look into his eyes and smile softly before looking back down at his hands on yours.

“You still look pretty tense. If you want I can give you a shoulder rub.” Sylvain offers, his thumbs going around in circles on the back of your hands.

“Uh, okay. That was a pretty stressful thing.” You mumble as you keep your head down a bit while he stands up and sits on the bed behind you.

“Here. Let’s turn the chair around so you can lean on the back of it and I can work some magic on your shoulders.” He suggests.

“That’s a good idea.” You nod, sitting on the chair backwards.

“Can you take off your coat?” He asks?

You take it off and put it on the back of the chair in front of you. A few things bang against the chair. “Sorry, I always carry so much junk with me.”

Sylvain’s hands start off soft, like he is petting a bunny. “That candle smells really good. Cinnamon and cloves and a bit of something else.”

“Thanks. A nice lady said it was very calming. I think she’s right.” You hum.

Sylvain works on your shoulders, you reward him with a soft moan. It doesn’t take him long after that to start working his way down your upper arms, then placing small kisses on your neck, whispering little comments about how beautiful you are, how he loves the tiny smile on your face right now. His voice is deep and soft in your ear, telling you that if you turned around right now he would not be able to stop himself from kissing you.

Who were you to mess with fate? As he feels you moving, he backs up to let you turn around. Once you are facing Sylvain he takes your hands and places them on your shoulders. He then grabs your hips, pulling you a bit closer to him.

He places a hand at the edge of your jaw, his finger stroking your cheek as he stares longingly into your eyes. “May I?” he whispers.

You nod the tiniest bit and say yes, closing your eyes too tightly. His lips are warm, soft and wet. One hand has slipped behind your head, massaging and stroking the top of your neck. You slowly relax your face, your lips becoming softer. He pulls his head back the tiniest bit.

“You okay?” He asks, his nose touching yours.

“Yeah.” You answer, taking a deep breath.

Sylvain answers with a few quick pecks at each corner of your lips, then the top and bottom, and finally lines up for the kill. First his tongue gently brushes against your bottom lip, then he runs it along the line where your lips meet. All the while he is pulling you closer and closer until you are on his lap, your chest held tight against his. You whimper as his hands knead your back. He holds you to his chest as he lets you gasp for air, his mouth going for your neck, licking and kissing and sucking it, leaving a souvenir bruise for tonight’s adventure. The noises you’re making must be music to his ears.

“If your shirt…” he says between kisses and ravishing your neck, “wasn’t in the way, I’d have more skin to kiss..”

You grab his face with both hands and kiss him hard, wiggling against him just so that his pants get a bit tighter on him.

“Um.” You pause. “You go first.” You lick his lips.

“Don’t have to tell me twi—” The redhead says as he starts to lift his shirt up when suddenly you help him. Lifting his undershirt with it, pulling both over his head while you move forward on him, laying him on his back. His sleeves are hung up at his wrists, he didn’t unbutton his cuffs yet.

You look him over for a second. “Gods you’re gorgeous.” You say before laying on top of him, kissing him firmly, sucking on his lips, then tongue, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, gently but seductively. Rubbing yourself against his naked chest you have him gasping for air.

Sitting up on his stomach you slowly begin to unbutton your blouse, pulling it from your shoulders. You then slowly begin to unlace your corset as he eagerly watches. His arms move slightly towards you, but no more. A sudden look of confusion washes over his face. You laugh as he looks more flustered.

“Why are the quiet ones always so kinky?” Sylvain says as he rolls his eyes. His voice is…strange.

“Are you complaining?” You say as you pull a dagger out of your corset. Followed by a second and third. “I just want to please you.” You tell him as your shirt falls further down your arms revealing two more daggers expertly hidden underneath your sleeves.

“It’s hard to explain.” He says as he lets out a heavy sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” You say. “I’m a good listener.”

“I’d feel better if we had a little bit more clothes on.” Sylvain mumbles, looking at the door.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” You reach up to pull his shirt back down, pulling his undershirt back over his head. He lifts his shoulders so you can pull them both down behind his back. “Want me to button you back up?”

“This is okay for now.” He sighs. “Where should I start?”

“Wherever you want. With whatever makes you feel comfortable.” You tell him.

While he talks you re-dress yourself, minus the removed daggers which are stashed away in a dresser. You sit in the chair next to him, resting your arm on his chest. Not in a sexual way, just being there. Letting him know you are with him.

Sylvain explains his rebellion against his parents, against his life being controlled by them. Fighting to do what he wants, not being forced to marry some stranger to further the Gautier name and bear a million crestbabies so that they can wield the Lance of Ruin. He rants about how much he hates his parents for a while, then switches to how he hates the Lance for over an hour. He talks about how his brother’s life was ruined the minute he was born and all of the guilt that he has had to bear as a result. He talks about all of the girls that chase after him for his crest, his money and he hates every minute of it.

Eventually you untie him as you just sit with him on your bed and talk for hour after hour. Finally he feels like he’s run out of things to say.

“So. Last night. How did that happen?” You ask.

“I saw you in Abyss. I knew you from up here of course. You didn’t belong in a place like that.” Sylvain smiles as you bump his shoulder, both of you sitting next to each other on the bed. “At first I was being the knight in shining armor, rescuing the damsel in distress. Then Yuri got into the mix and I didn’t want to believe him. Then I guess I just slipped back into skirtchaser mode. You played your part well, but it threw me off after a while. I guess the old me wouldn’t have blinked twice about you suddenly letting me into your room, but it kind of set off a warning bell in the back of my mind. I kept asking myself why I was doing this. Sure, it’s what is expected of me based on my reputation. But honestly? I haven’t had sex in about a year and it’s been great. The pressure is off. Since the war, there is too much upheaval for my father to even think of trying to marry me off to whoever is the highest bidder. He’s left me alone. It’s kind of strange of me to say this but once we started talking, I’ve had the best time just hanging out with you.”

“I’ve had a great time too.” You smile back. “This is probably one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. I knew your birthday was coming up and when I spied you in Abyss, I thought I would surprise you with a little present. I’ve spoken to a few of your previous pursuers. What can I say? Girls talk. Anyway, you were quite the pleaser, always making sure they were well taken care of in the bedroom. I led you here with the full intention of ruining you until the only thing your balls could cough up was dust. Sometimes it’s nice to be on the receiving end. But well, a player can always recognize another player, right? So here we are.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, “Here we are. What do we do now? “

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be friends. We do have a lot of baggage in common, I think. Maybe I’ll share some of my stories.” You perk up a bit, “Do you like board games? I haven’t had a decent game of chess in forever. I refuse to play Yuri because he cheats all the time.”

“I knew it!” Sylvain frowns, “Bastard! He swears he never does!”

“Let’s set up a game night. Not now because I’m wiped out.” You give a yawn. “You’re welcome to crash here. Nobody ever comes by to bug the recluse. I don’t mind sharing a bed with a friend just hanging out.

[mynumberfivethings]

Hi! I recently found your tumblr and I really enjoy your work! I’m not sure if you are still doing them or not, but I have a request/idea for little five. I would love to see the family go somewhere with little five, maybe the beach? They could teach him how to swim, put floaties on him, etc. If you happen to see this and decide to write it, I would love that!

this is TOO cute 

it occurs to allison one day that the majority of her family probably has never been to the beach before-she’s talking about how much Claire loves building sandcastles and five, who’s in his little headspace, stares at her in confusion. “what’s that?” he asks, leaning precariously atop the kitchen table on his elbows. 

he’s a little older than usual today-about four, allison gauges-which makes it so much easier to communicate. “sandcastles?” she tilts her head. “just what it sounds like, castles made of sand from the beach. they’re fun to make five-would you ever wanna go to the beach?” 

five nods eagerly. “beach! wanna go now!” 

klaus hums thoughtfully-it’s been a while since he was last at the beach. “that would actually be nice. i’d be down for a beach trip.” 

it’s discovered quickly that no one else at the table has ever been at the beach (besides Ben-he went with Klaus, but it was as a ghost, and so he doesn’t really count it). “we should go.” ben suggests, fives childish enthusiasm contagious. 

allison grins. “yeah?” 

five jumps up in his seat. “yeah!” 

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

five loves the sand. he loves the way it dips between his bare toes and the way it hardens with water into fun shapes-especially when luther and diego help him build a monstrous castle. 

vanya crouches down next to him, smiling as she watches how hard he’s concentrating on building the moat around his castle. “having a good time?” 

five looks up at her with a wide grin. “look!” 

vanya nods, making a show of looking extremely impressed. “it’s amazing!” she awes. 

five suddenly notices she’s dripping with water and questions as to why. 

vanya chuckles as she squeezes the water from her hair. “i went into the ocean.” she gestures with a nod towards the water a few yards away. “it’s refreshing in this heat, you should go in too.” she’s gone to pools before-the community ones in the city, when her little box fan in her one bedroom wasn’t cutting it-but the ocean is a whole other experience. she’s glad they’re on this impromptu family day trip. 

five looks out beyond the ocean and stares at it like it’s something he can’t quite figure out. “can’t swim.” he admits softly. “don’t wanna.” 

allison, who overhears the conversation, takes a pair of red floaties out of her yellow sports bag. “gotcha these in case you change your mind, honey.” she runs a hand through his hair playfully, laughing when he scrunches his nose at her. 

“what’s that?” he pokes at them experimentally. 

“floaties,” allison explains. “they help you float in the water so you don’t sink, even if you can’t swim. they’re great for beginners like you, five. and eventually when you can swim all by yourself you won’t need em anymore. what do you say? you wanna try em on?” she sees the hesitance in his face. “you can try em on and not go into the water if you want. just to see how they fit.” he’s got such skinny arms allison wasn’t quite sure what size to get him. 

five holds his arms out for her to put them on, surprised by how light they are. these are supposed to keep him from drowning? it doesn’t seem plausible-vanya almost wants to laugh at the skepticism in his little face, it’s an expression she normally only expects of big five. “they look great on you.” vanya comments, smiling when he preens. 

eventually the siblings manage to convince five to put the bad boys to use. the water is nice and warm today and five pokes his toes into it first, clinging to luther like a lifeline, even though they’re technically still on land. “i can carry you in, if you want?” luther offers. five looks especially small today in his blue swim trunks and those floaties-the fact that he’s shirtless only serves to highlight how thin he is. five’s always been on the skinny side, even as kids no matter how much he ate it never seemed quite enough-luther can relate. 

five lifts his arms and luther sweeps him off his feet easily and together they march into the ocean, the others joining them, excited to see five’s first dip in the water. regrettably, it doesn’t go as planned. as soon as luther has waded in about waist high, five suddenly freaks out. it starts with a lip wobble and quickly turns into frightened sobbing. “out!” he cries, wrapping his arms tightly around luthers neck and trying his best to keep any and all parts of his body out of reach of the ocean. 

“honey, it’s ok, look, we’re all right here, you don’t have to be afraid. nothing’s going to happen to you.” allison tries, fruitlessly. 

five is shaking now, terrified. “please.” he whimpers, eyes shut tight. 

“let’s get him out.” diego gently squeezes one of his shoulders and together they all lead luther and five out of the ocean. even once they’re on land, back by their towels and chairs and bags, five won’t stop crying. 

he lets go of luther like he’s been burned and huddles behind his grandiose castle, hiding his face. 

“hey hey, you’re ok, we’re back on the sand, here look, you love the sand-wanna try making another castle?” klaus tries, his heart breaking at the sight of five so visibly scared. 

it’s to everyone’s surprise when five suddenly stops crying altogether and blinks up at klaus. “jesus,” five groans, sliding a hand down his face in embarrassment. “that sucked, sorry guys.” he’s never had such an abrupt transition like this before, from “little” to “big”-it’s kind of jarring, if he’s being honest. 

“are you ok?” klaus asks, worried. 

five nods, a tiny bit dazed, still. he normally transitions during his sleep-he’ll fall asleep big and wake up a little or vice versa, rarely, if ever, like this. “yeah,” he says. “i’m good. just,” he wipes away the tears and clears his throat. “the last time i was in water wasn’t...great.” he doesn’t elaborate and he’s grateful that no one pushes for him to. 

allison sits down in front of five and pulls him into a hug he’s not expecting. he goes stiff in her embrace for a second before slowly relaxing into her arms, tucking his head into her shoulder. 

maybe time, five thinks, he’ll be brave enough to go into the water. 

[too-gay-for-marvel]

no one ever fell in love gracefully

a/n: alright y’all, this one is much darker and definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. sometimes i like to mess around with very little dialogue, and this is the result. this one is honestly just for shits and giggles, so if you don’t like it, there probably won’t be a lot more like it, i just wanna see what happens

Word Count: 3519

Warnings: VERY DARK THEMES, allusions to self-harm, results of torture, human trafficking, character death (if you see something else that needs tagged please tell me)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Natasha

Bucky and Natasha were slow to trust and slower to love. If they hadn’t already known each other for decades beforehand, they probably wouldn’t have even ended up loving each other. They had just learned too many times that love was a weakness that they couldn’t afford to have, and they still struggled with it in their daily lives. Loving each other was their saving grace, but they couldn’t help thinking that if they loved someone else then they would just end up getting them hurt. Needless to say, this made them suspicious of everyone.

Even the young SHIELD doctor.

Especially the young SHIELD doctor.

They hadn’t wanted her to join them on their Russia mission. She wasn’t a soldier, she wasn’t really even an agent, she was just a doctor. And even that was being generous; she was more of a counselor than a medical doctor, even though she knew her way around an operating room. They had argued with Fury, something they normally didn’t do, but there was no way they were going on a dangerous mission with a non-agent.

And now they were in a run-down, sketchy hotel room with her, trying to pretend that they weren’t stressing out about all of it. There was no way they were going to let her know how nervous she made them, they had reputations, after all. But they couldn’t help but be suspicious of her as she offered cheap vodka and an innocent game of strip poker. As if there could ever be anything innocent about strip poker in the middle of a month-long mission.

They were two bottles of vodka in when they really started to get to the real meat of the game; Y/N lost another round and had to take off her sweater, a half-drunk smile on her face. Natasha and Bucky weren’t strangers to sex and threesomes, and they thought this might have stirred something in them since Y/N was attractive, but there was nothing sexy about Y/N pulling her sweater over her head.

Countless scars littered her forearms, some thick and angry, some so small they could only be seen in the light. Some were jagged and rough, others were smooth and purposeful. Some were fresh cuts, just starting to scab over, others looked inflamed and infected. They were cut off at the sleeves of her shirt, but some still continued, and it was obvious that they didn’t stop. As more and more articles of clothing were removed, more scars were revealed.

It wasn’t until Y/N took her actual shirt off - completely drunk at this point - that Bucky and Natasha saw the full extent. Angry red lines criss-crossed her back, thick and raised and painful looking. On her left shoulder blade was a brand, still dark and indented, looking suspiciously like one they had seen before. And when she turned around, another brand rested on her right hip, and they recognised it as the brand of a trafficking ring that they were trying to take down.

There was nothing sexy about this game of strip poker, but there was something strangely intimate in the unspoken things Y/N said with a broken smile on her face.

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

Bucky fell first.

He fell slowly, not at all like he had for Nat. There were so many things that Bucky loved about Nat, but it was the little things about Y/N that really pushed him over into the feeling of love. It was the way she smiled when she greeted the agents in the mornings. The way she hid her face behind her hands when she reached a good part in her book, needing to take a step back to compose herself before she could continue. The way she was always the first to volunteer for jobs that were inconvenient or even just boring.

Or it was her unconstrained excitement when she saw a dog or a cat on the streets during a walk. The way she would run over to it and, if it had an owner, ask if she could pet them. If it was a stray, she would pet them and give them whatever food scraps she had before begging to keep it. The way she would never just pass by a homeless person, instead always trying to give them what little change she had and then offering to buy them a meal or some non-perishables and take them to a reliable shelter that she knew of.

It was the way she treated all of his friends. The way she would sign with Clint and try to talk him out of being so reckless, even though she was always the first one to patch him back up again when her talks didn’t work. The way she would urge Tony to come out of his lab for just long enough to get some sleep and a meal. The way she would tease Sam, but would ultimately end up being his counselor since he spent so much time trying to help other people that he never really focused on himself. The way she would steal Steve’s sweaters and try to teach him how to dance, laughing as she danced barefoot and the incredibly large sweatshirt swallowed her in the best way possible.

But what really did it was when Natasha was gone and he didn’t want to be alone. He could have asked Steve, of course he could have, but he was already asleep. It was by chance that he saw Y/N still awake, cleaning up their mess from the dinner she had made for all of them. Asking her to stay had been easier than he had thought; it helped that she guessed before he had even opened his mouth. She offered to stay watch for him, and he eagerly agreed before going back to sleep.

He woke up much later than usual, and he noticed that his alarm had been turned off. It was easy to guess who had done it, considering there was only one other person in the apartment, and he walked out of his room to question Y/N about it. But she was asleep in one of the chairs that had been moved to face both the apartment door and his room. Her knees were pulled up and her head was resting on her hand, her mouth open ever so slightly. One of his shirts hung off of her shoulder and he swore he had only ever seen something this beautiful when Natasha was around.

When Bucky fell, it happened like a cliche: slowly, and then all at once.

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

Natasha fell hardest.

She had always prided herself on her ability to keep her heart safe, only ever letting a handful of people in that deep; James, Steve, Clint, Maria, Fury. Letting people in was dangerous, it would get herself and other people killed. Nothing good could come from loving people, and it had taken her long enough to get over that to let herself love James and to let him love her in return.

But she had seen James fall for Y/N, had listened to him talk about her. She could see his eyes light up when he told her about when they went for coffee, or when she snuck a dog into the tower before getting caught by Fury. It made her heart swell to see him so excited about something that was so mundane, because he deserved a bit of normalcy in his life. She knew she would never be able to give him a normal life, and she was glad he had found it in someone.

Surprisingly, there was no jealousy in Natasha’s thoughts or feelings. She was used to a lot of these things happening because she had been taught to get used to people and to accept when they had their own lives. But she trusted James, and she knew he had no nefarious intentions to telling her about Y/N. It was just a new part of his life that made him happy, and she knew he loved her and would never do anything to hurt her. So she was more than happy to try and understand what he saw in Y/N.

So she was determined to try and see what James saw. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Y/N; after their Russia mission where they had unknowingly learned more than they had bargained for, Natasha respected the doctor. She held more respect for Y/N than she did for herself, because Y/N had gone through all the pain she had and was still desperately trying to help people. Natasha was trying to erase the red from her ledger, yes, but Y/N hadn’t given up. Natasha wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t have given up if she had gone through the same thing.

The day starts with Natasha finding Y/N in a secluded room in the medbay, a young boy in the room with her. He looks a little worse for wear, and Natasha realises it’s because he’s the one they rescued from a trafficker. His hair is finally clean and he’s wearing real clothes, but they hang off his frame and make him seem smaller than he is. In truth, he’s actually only an inch or so smaller than Y/N.

They’re yelling at each other. Natasha can’t tell what they’re saying because she doesn’t know Romanian, but it doesn’t take much to see how angry they are. The boy keeps stepping closer and closer to Y/N, his face in hers, only a few centimetres of space between them. His face is red and he keeps jabbing a finger into her chest. On the other hand, Y/N is yelling back, her arms gesturing widely and occasionally running through her hair when she stops to take a second to breathe. They start yelling at each other again, windless, and finally Y/N yells back in English.

“Nobody rescued me!”

The boy stops mid-sentence, his eyes wide and his brows still drawn. But the anger seemed to dissipate, and instead he was left just staring into Y/N’s eyes like he was looking for a lifeline. Looking for anything he could grab onto to help pull him out of his anger and his pain and whatever else he was feeling. Natasha felt like she should leave, Y/N probably didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to her, but she couldn’t. She was stuck to the spot as Y/N started talking in Romanian again, her voice soft and oh so broken.

Tears fell freely down the boy’s eyes before he surged forward, his arms going around Y/N’s waist. He gripped the back of her shirt like she would disappear if he let go. There was shock on her face, only for a moment, before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tight, whispering into his ear. Natasha could feel her heart grow at the sight, but she knew it was a moment she shouldn’t be intruding on. It was the perfect time to leave, and she would go check on Y/N afterward.

When she did go to check on Y/N, it was late. James had gone out with Steve and Sam, probably just going to Coney Island or something like that, she didn’t really know. What she did know was that James wasn’t as sneaky as he pretended to be, and he was really just going out so she could spend some time with Y/N. She knew him better than that, but it still made her smile to think he thought he was being inconspicuous.

Natasha knocked on Y/N’s door, and while she didn’t expect Y/N to answer right away, she also didn’t expect to hear something shatter and a whispered “shit,” followed by a quick “just a minute!” There was a lot of rustling behind the door, and Natasha was starting to get worried. As much as she didn’t want to just barge in, she remembered the scabbed-over cuts on Y/N’s arms, and she felt her stomach fall at what Y/N could have been doing in there.

She stopped waiting for Y/N to answer the door and walked in, eyes darting around the whole apartment before she saw Y/N kneeling on the floor. A dish towel was laying on the floor in the middle of the remains of a shattered mug, pieces scattered around Y/N’s bare and bleeding feet. The pieces were digging into her knees and she was desperately struggling to pick up the pieces of the mug, all the while tears rolled down her cheeks and her shoulders shook.

Y/N didn’t look up from the mess, just shook her head and muttered apologies and excuses, and Natasha could almost literally feel her heart break in her chest. She didn’t make the decision to move forward, her body seemed to do it all on it’s own, almost like it was drawn to Y/N. And though she was the shorter of the two, Natasha gently spun Y/N around and held her tight, taking note of the way Y/N’s whole body sank, and Natasha pulled her into her lap so Y/N could rest her head in the crook of Natasha’s neck. She would have stayed like that forever if Y/N had only asked.

When Natasha fell, it happened fast, and it hit her like a bullet.

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

Natasha and Bucky had prayed that life would treat them fairly for once in their life. They weren’t religious, but they were willing to be if it meant they got to win, just once. They would never ask for anything else ever again if they just got to keep her. If they just got to continue waking up to her soft features, her hands holding onto them like they would disappear in her sleep. If they could just keep her and the soft smile she reserved just for them.

As they got closer and closer to taking down a trafficking ring, they prayed harder. It was evident that Y/N wasn’t going to stand aside when these people were finally running scared, and she wasn’t going to let just anyone help the kids that they saved. And Y/N jumped at the opportunity to actually go with them once to bring some kids back safely, and they prayed she would be safe. As selfish as it was, they didn’t want Y/N to go because they didn’t like taking risks with her life.

Her hands were shaking when she tried to put her suit on, and Natasha and Bucky helped her finish suiting up. She smiled at them, her brown eyes wide and anxious. They wanted to say the words, wanted to tell her they loved her. Y/N had already said it once, twice if you consider that she said it to each of them individually, but they hadn’t been able to say it back. If they admitted that they loved her, then the world would take her away. But Y/N said it was okay because she knew they loved her, and they had held onto that for far too long.

The quinjet landed and by then it was too late. Everyone was already running off, heading to their designated zones, and it was go-time. There weren’t too many guards in the safe-house, and Natasha and Bucky knew they should have been thankful, but it just seemed off. They knew these people didn’t care about these kids, but they were so secretive. Why would they just leave all of their merchandise to fall into the hands of SHIELD?

Getting the kids out was the hard part. They found Y/N in a basement, trying to talk to a dozen kids, each one speaking a different language. She switched from English to Romanian to French to Greek to Arabic to whatever else she could think of. It was clear the toll it was taking on her, with her hands shaking and her shoulders tense and her leg bouncing and her hands running through her hair over and over and over. But eventually she seemed to win, the kids finally agreeing to go with her.

She decided to carry the toddler.

Natasha and Bucky and two other SHIELD agents started leading the kids to the quinjet, not even bothering to look behind them because they had already eliminated all the threats, so they could focus only on the kids. That was what Y/N had told them to do, focus on the kids. They would be slow to trust and needed to know that they could rely on them to keep them safe. So they focused, one at a time, getting them strapped in and situated and making sure none of them needed medical attention because that would require a lot of-

-a gunshot-

-a toddler’s scream-

-another gunshot-

-silence.

Natasha and Bucky spun around, so quickly that they couldn’t even focus properly. Their thoughts were racing, their hearts threatened to beat out of their chests and their eyes pricked with unshed tears. Their eyes landed on Y/N, on the way her eyes were wide and her mouth was barely open and her bottom lip was shaking. On the way she gripped the toddler tighter, one hand on the back of her head. On the quickly growing patch of red on the left side of her chest.

They were already running before Y/N fell to her knees. By the time she was falling to the side, they had already reached her. Natasha reached out and grabbed the toddler - dead, the bullet had passed clean through the both of them - while Bucky helped Y/N onto the ground, his metal hand already pressing on the gunshot wound. She winced and yelped and tried to move away, but he didn’t let up. He couldn’t let up. Natasha handed the toddler off to one of the other agents, ignoring his horrified face, and kneeled down to try and keep Y/N’s attention.

But her eyes were already losing focus and she wasn’t answering. Natasha tried to ignore the pool of blood that was reaching their knees, instead trying to focus on Y/N. She helped Bucky lift her up and rushed her to the quinjet, trying to hide her from the kids but they knew. They all knew. And they could all see the way Y/N’s breathing hitched and faltered and the weak cries she let out when she was jostled.

And when Y/N’s breathing and pulse started to slow, they tried to guilt her into staying awake. They asked her not to go because think of all the paperwork they would have to do if she died. She always got on their case about having too much paperwork, and she didn’t want to cause them to have more, did she? Who would make them get enough sleep? If she left then think of all the nightmares they would have because they wouldn’t have her there to keep them calm and remind them that they were safe.

When that didn’t work, they resorted to begging. Please just hang on, they’re on the way to the tower, just a little longer. Please don’t close your eyes, the tower is just a few minutes away, please don’t leave us. I know it hurts, baby, please just hold on a little longer. Just keep breathing, if you keep breathing then we promise to make it worth your while. Focus on our voices, don’t pass out, please don’t do this to us. Please don’t leave us, we need you.

And when blood started falling from her lips and her eyes slid shut, they got angry. Dammit, you’re not allowed to die, you can’t do this to us. If you die, I swear to god, Y/N, I’ll kill you. You better keep fighting, Y/N, you’re not a fucking quitter. Are you really just going to lay there and die instead of fighting; don’t be such a hypocrite! Find a way to fucking heal because I’m not going to your fucking funeral! Yelling and screaming and tears falling from their lashes onto Y/N’s body.

By the time they got back to the tower, Y/N had stopped breathing and Natasha couldn’t feel her pulse. Neither of them were aware of how long ago Y/N’s pulse had stopped, they were too busy trying to get her to just open her damn eyes. The doctors took her away, doing what they could to save her, but Natasha and Bucky knew better. Y/N’s blood coated both of their hands and their clothes, and all it did was force them to face the truth. They had loved her, and she had lost her life because of it. Their teachers had been wrong; love is not for children.

For what child could survive the heartbreak love leaves behind?

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies -Chapter 9

Words: 2,140 Ao3 Version Chapter 8 (Last)

TW: threats of violence, heavy (but short) discussions of death/murder

Quackity scowls blearily at the returning heroes. He and the other Ducklings were up the whole damn night trying to work out infiltration plans after Bad gave them the location of the laboratory and then peaced out with his team of scammers. Bad won't be returning again, but thanks to him, the Ducklings missed the whole rescue mission.

It's summer vacation, so everyone ought to be home anyway, but Philza promised to teach them fighting, and by the goddamned stars, Quackity is determined to make the old man follow through. 

Philza steps tiredly into the classroom. His bloodshot, baggy eyes go wide in surprise as he sees all the students gathered there. Quackity salutes him with a smirk. Ranboo hides in the shadows of the door, watching Phil with worried sulkiness. 

"Kids, I need a favor." Philza collapses into a chair, hiding his face. "I know you want him dead. But- please. Wait a bit." He hesitates and then continues in a ragged voice, "Purpled hit him with a neutralizing agent. He- he can die, again. I'm begging you all, please don't tell anyone or try to kill him until our time is up." 

"Why should we??" Quackity demands, realizing immediately with a confusing mixture of delight and horror that Technoblade has been rendered vulnerable. Does this mean their plan to sneak into the lab is pointless now? "I don't know." Philza hiccups. He's crying. The tears burn a hole through Quackity's delight. "I don't know, dammit. Please, just wait to kill him at the end of the year. No, better, kill both of us then, I've done the same terrible things as he has! I should be punished too, goddammit, why is he the one to suffer for both our crimes??" 

"I'll wait." Quackity leans back. "I'll fucking wait till time's up, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up my revenge." 

"I'll wait too!" Tommy cries. "I'm the fucking king of procrastination!" 

Sapnap and the Ducklings follow Quackity's example. The others follow Tommy's example. Together, the class proclaims their willingness to postpone Techno's death. 

Philza rubs his eyes and takes the handkerchief Tommy stole from Wilbur to offer him. "Thank you, kids." 

"We still get fighting lessons, right?" Quackity asks with a scowl.

"Yes, of course you do. You've all earned them." Philza smiles tremulously. "Ranboo, Techno, you can come out." 

Ranboo steps into the light, blatantly normal-seeming, so unlike the nightmare Tommy and Charlie described. He hovers beside Technoblade as the former terrorist limps through the room to reach his desk. He seems so small and frail without the mutation-induced strength. He looks so weak. Quackity could put a bullet through his head right now and he wouldn't be able to dodge or absorb it. 

But Quackity sees Philza watching Techno with worried, fond eyes. He thinks of Sapnap. Of Techno eating the goddamn grenade to save Sapnap. 

Quackity decides he can wait. If he kills Technoblade right away, after all, Philza won't give anybody fighting lessons. 

And if Philza doesn't give them fighting lessons, then who the fuck is going to wreak vengeance on whatever motherfucking scientists created the mutants?

++++

Niki and Jack watch through binoculars as their enemies spar with each other in the clearing outside the remote school building designated for Class 3-E. "Dang." Jack says. "They're not bad." 

"They can't fight a bomb." Niki grins. 

"Much less ten." Jack matches Niki's toothy smile. 

"Did you get the supplies?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good work, Jack." Niki drops lightly from the tree. "We can proceed with the operation Smithereens in a week." 

"Awesome." Jack chuckles darkly. "Do we really want to give them that much time, though?" 

"We need to get them acclimated to the bait, first." Niki taps her fingers to her lips. "This will go wonderfully, Jack, don't worry. That loser class won't be a threat much longer." 

++++

"Sir, Purpled is dead." HBomb reports, wincing nervously in apprehension. 

"The fuck he is, I told that bitch to get me Technoblade, and by god, he'd better do it!" Schlatt tips a whiskey bottle into his mouth, gulping the burning liquid down. He lowers it and peers at HBomb. "Unless somebody fucked up again." 

"He must have, sir." HBomb grasps the lifeline eagerly. "The neutralizing agent was nowhere near his body." 

"What?" Schlatt says calmly, his tone barely warning of the torrent of rage he's about to unleash upon the poor unwitting HBomb. "Where the fuck is it, then?" 

"Our clean-up team found the crushed casing nearby!" HBomb continues to dig his grave. "So-" 

"So he found it, and destroyed it." Schlatt snarls. 

HBomb nods quickly. "Y-yes, but-"

"Do you know how long it took to make enough neutralizer for one dart??" 

"Months, sir, but-"

"And you're telling me Purpled fucked up badly enough that somehow that goddamn mutant knew about the dart and destroyed it." 

"Well- see, we have reason to believe Dream is involved!" 

"Damn it!" Schlatt bellows and smashes the whiskey bottle on the table. His hand starts to bleed and sting from the shards. "HBomb." He growls, trying to pretend he's still in control; he needs to still be in control. "Why the fuck is that motherfucking spider involved?? I gave him a mutant already, why the hell does he want to steal mine??" 

"I thought you'd want his help!" HBomb squeals. "So I let him know we're trying to hunt Technoblade down!" 

"Fuck this, fuck you, you motherfucking imbecile, you complete and utter moron, why the fUCK WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS??" Schlatt roars. 

HBomb cowers, hiding ineffectively behind his broom. "I- I'm sorry, sir, but I thought-"

"Well, there's the fucking problem, yeah, bitch?? You thought. I do the thinking here." Schlatt reaches for his gun. "You want to know what I'm thinking, HBomb? Do you want to know what I'm thinking of, right fucking now??" 

"Pl-please-" HBomb whimpers, staring into the barrel as it aims between his eyes. 

"I'm thinking you're fucking useless to me, HBomb. And you know what happens to useless whiny bitches like you, right?" 

"Please don't kill me!" HBomb sobs. 

"Ahh, whatever." Schlatt lowers the gun, too furious to admit he can't bring himself to actually pull the trigger and become a murderer. "Leave my sight and don't fucking show your ugly mug for a week." 

HBomb scurries away, leaving Schlatt to bind his bloody hand, alone in the sterile laboratory. 

++++

Getting beaten up would have been bearable. Being bullied mercilessly would have been completely deserved. But being completely and utterly ignored for days on end breaks Eret like a goddamn crusher.

The more he thinks back on her actions, the guiltier she feels. During the sparring classes, they copy Philza's moves alone, behind everyone else working with partners. When the class decides to camp in the forest for the rest of summer vacation, Eret sets up his tent several meters away from the rest. She stands back and watches their former friends banter and laugh as they raise their own tents. 

"Hey."

Eret almost jumps at the low voice of Ranboo addressing her. Turning, he faces the mutant, clenching her hands to hide the trembling. "Yeah?" 

Ranboo steps up next to them, gazing into the smoking campfire amidst the scattered tents. "Why are you scared of me?" 

"You- you already know why." Eret stares at his hands. Out, out, damned spot.

"Um. I don't really remember, but yeah, okay." Ranboo sighs. "I- I don't think I'm sorry." 

"Neither am I, apparently." Bitterly laughing, Eret grips her chest as the sharp pain of grief blossoms. 

"I think you are." 

"What do you know??" Eret lashes out, shoving Ranboo. "If everything had gone according to plan, it would all be fine!" 

"But you still wouldn't have any friends." Ranboo replies calmly. 

It hurts that he's right. Eret knows he's right. They turn away, hunched and close to tears. "Why am I scared of you?" She mutters in a low, desperate voice. "Because I know. I saw what you are. I know you- you killed Purpled." 

Ranboo frowns. "Techno killed him." He says it so casually. Techno. As though the bastard wasn't a mass-murderer and terrorist, bestowing violence in the name of anarchy and blood. "What do you think I am?" 

"A monster." Eret snaps, rounding on Ranboo, who backpedals with surprised fear in his eyes. "You're a monster. You might not remember. Your friends might pretend to forget. But I know." 

Ranboo gathers his composure and stands his ground, forcing Eret back a step. "If I'm a monster, and I protected my friends... what does that make you?" He turns on his heel and storms away into the trees. 

Shattered and lost, Eret can only watch him disappear. 

++++

Karl slips a briefcase under the table to his contact, who takes it and gives it a little shake. His contact then slides a folder over the table. Karl snatches it and stuffs it in his backpack. The two remain in silence for a moment longer. Karl leaves first. 

Once out of the main school's cafe, he runs all the way through the woods to the Ducklings' treehouse. Echoing footsteps crack twigs behind him as he reaches the gang's base. 

"Hey, what's that?" Fundy doesn't even bother trying to hide anymore as Karl climbs into the treehouse. 

Karl pulls the ladder up. "None of your business." 

"C'mon, we're in the same class!" 

"You're not a Duckling." 

"I can help!! Pleassse?" Fundy begs. 

"Who the fuck is bugging you, Karl??" Quackity sticks his head out the window. "Fundy?? Get the hell outta here." 

"That was HBomb you were talking to!" Fundy cries desperately. Karl groans and hides his face in his hoodie. "I know that guy! I used to work for him!" 

"Where?" Quackity asks. 

"Some laboratory in the capital!" Fundy cries. "I was shadowing him for a potential internship!" 

"Let the ladder down." Quackity orders. Karl sighs as he obeys. 

"Fine, but I don't trust you." 

"You don't have to." Fundy gives a smug smile as he leaps up the ladder. 

Karl enters the treehouse and sets the blueprints down on the table. Sapnap and Foolish stop painting Connor's hair and gather around with Quackity and Fundy. 

The laboratory blueprints spread across the table, promising revenge. Karl looks up and sees the hungry fire in Quackity's eyes. He looks to the side and meets the molten steel in Sapnap's gaze. 

Quackity draws his dagger and sets the point on the blueprints. "Whoever the fuck's been experimenting on people, let's fucking find them and end their pathetic lives." 

++++

Technoblade slashes the saplings with a rapier, taking out his frustrated fury on the innocent young trees, ignoring the twinges of pain. He shouldn't be this weak. 

Even before Schlatt started experimenting on him, he was stronger than this. He was powerful. The best fighter, the best tactician, the best at strategy. Now his body is frail and hurts merely to move. 

He tries to snarl, but his breath catches in his throat, fear slithering roots into his chest. Irrational. He's being irrational. Technoblade isn't afraid of anything. 

Except perhaps the pale blue of scrubs, the glint of scalpels, the searing agony- No! Technoblade scowls and tries to shove the flashes of terror and hunger and bitter, helpless rage away. 

Philza approaches him with a cup of tea. Technoblade flinches away, unable to look at the man he failed, the friend he abandoned. "Techno?" Philza sets the tea down on a fallen tree and presses a hand to Technoblade's shoulder. 

"Who am I, Phil?" Technoblade begs. Weak. The old Technoblade would never beg, would never cry. 

"You're my friend." Philza answers. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

"The kids agreed to keep it a secret and wait until the year is up." 

"Phil. It's not going to last forever, Phil, you need to kill me soon. I can feel the damn resonancy in my chest. I don't know how long you have, but you need to kill me before I destroy the world." 

"Techno." Philza's voice shakes. "No. Techno, we'll find something."

"Find what?? It hurts, Phil. It hurts to move, it hurts to talk... I've killed so many people, Phil, I deserve this, I deserve to die! Kill me, please. The kids are too innocent. They don't need to be turned into murderers like me." He thinks of Quackity, the blazing fire. He thinks of Ranboo, the gentle nightmare. Of Tommy, the merciless sunshine. Each and every student. They deserve better. 

"Technoblade." Philza grips Techno's chin and brushes back his hair. "I deserve death as much as you. But I'm going to keep living. There's still people we need to kill, Techno, there's still governments to dismantle! We can't end now! We'll find a cure. A real cure. I promise." 

"I don't want you to die." 

"Ditto, mate." Philza embraces Techno gently. Techno wraps his arms around his friend, afraid to let go.

[archadianskies]

Whumptober Day 20

Lost  → excerpt from ch4 of the RK-YK500s (After a sudden mysterious autoimmune illness befalls the RK series, they are temporarily housed in YK500 units while a cure is found.)

Whumptober Masterlist | 20/31 of RK900 short stories

↳ on Ao3

Tags: Age Regression/De-Aging × Kid Fic ×Post-Pacifist Best Ending × Hurt/Comfort × Father-Son Relationship × Gavin Reed Being an Asshole 

Ronan sits in the front seat of Detective Reed’s car and looks out the window as they leave the apartment complex. It’s starting to lighten up outside, the sun finally starting to fill the city and banish the dark of night. It snowed all last night and everything is buried under a blanket of white. He thinks it’s very pretty.

“Come on.” Detective Reed jerks his head as he parks the car at Starbucks. Ronan unclasps his seatbelt and opens the door, shoes crunching in the snow as he hurries after him. A blast of warm air hits him as they enter the cafe, and he sticks close to Detective Reed’s side as the man joins the queue for the counter. 

“Aww Reed who’s this little guy?” The barista grins down at him. “D’you want a hot chocolate? Hot milk?”

“No thank you, I’ve had my breakfast.” Ronan answers, and the barista laughs delightedly. 

“I’m just stuck with him for a while.” Detective Reed rolls his eyes. “I’ll get the usual but make it a venti. Fuckin’ briefing at work this morning.”

“Hey, language!” They chide, and Ronan’s not sure why. He knows what expletives are and how they’re used for extra emphasis. They wait at the other end of the counter for Detective Reed’s coffee, and once acquired, they head back to the car. 

“Ah shit!” He curses just as he’s about to unlock the vehicle. “Fuck! I left it on the- ah shit.” Turning to him, he points down the road. “Ok listen I have to go home and grab something. Precinct’s that way, you might as well head over while I go back.”

“You want me to walk to Central Station?” Ronan blinks, frowning as he sets the objective. 

“It’s like ten minutes walk that way, c’mon, we’ve done this a million times now.” Detective Reed unlocks the car and gets into the driver’s seat. “Tell the Captain I’ll be right there. I won’t be long.” He shuts the door and backs out of the customer parking bay and Ronan is alone.

He knows where Detroit City Police Central Station is: 1301 3rd Avenue, Detroit. It is, on average, about a ten minute walk from his current location. It is not a difficult objective to complete only Ronan’s unsure why Detective Reed said they’d done it a million times now which can’t be possible because Ronan doesn’t remember ever coming here. Well. He can do this. Calculating the route isn’t so hard when he puts in the starting location as the Starbucks address and the destination as Central Station. Ten minutes walk and then he will have achieved his objection. It’s not so hard! Is it? 

He feels his stress levels starting to rise and he doesn’t know why because there shouldn’t be anything to stress him out.  More and more citizens are out and about; there’s a lot of people and some of them are looking at him as he walks down the street. Down this street and then turn left at the end. Easy. Only...it’s not? And he doesn’t know why it should be easy but isn’t. He clenches his hands and it feels wrong not to have Connor to hold onto, or even Hank. It feels lonely and scary and Detective Reed isn’t here and there’s no one he knows and there’s no one to hold onto and-! His face is wet and he can’t breathe properly and his stress levels are climbing higher and higher and he wants Connor! He wants Connor to hold his hand! Or Hank! Everything is too loud and big and scary and Ronan hates it, he hates it, he wants to be inside with The Void and his aeroplane pyjamas that are soft and warm and he doesn’t want to be out here alone!

“Hey are you okay?” A woman asks him gently and Ronan looks up at her and can’t see her face properly because his eyes are wet. “Oh sweetheart, where are your parents?”

“C-c-” he hiccups and tries again. “Central Station!”

“Central-” she pauses, then nods. “The police station! Did your parents teach you that for when you get lost? What a clever boy you are.” She’s dressed like a businesswoman with a long coat, and she removes her scarf to wrap it around his neck. “Come on, I’ll take you there.”

It doesn’t feel like ten minutes, it doesn’t feel easy, it feels so long and horrible and Ronan cries and rubs his eyes and tries not to be so loud because a nice lady is going out of her way to help him complete a stupidly simple objective. She coos at him sympathetically, squeezing his hand and rubbing it with her thumb and reassuring him that it’s alright, it’s just up ahead. 

*~*~*

Hank scratches his beard and glances at his phone again. Reed’s late. At least he had the good grace to tell someone he’s running late, so Hank can’t really fault him for that. He glances over to where Connor is sitting in his usual chair, sipping on one of those android caprisuns. He let him choose what he wanted to wear today, and the boy chose a white turtleneck with a denim jacket lined in shearling. He even tied one set of shoelaces all by himself after Hank tied the other one. Hank manages to resist reaching over to muss his curls, but only just.

“Sorry, sorry! Forgot my fucking badge on the counter.” Reed announces as he hurries through the security gates, coffee in hand. “Figured I’d need it if we’re questioning people.” 

“Alright, come on.” Jeffrey waves them over. “About time.”

“Where’s Ronan?” Hank looks behind him, expecting to see the boy toddle in like a duckling. 

“Oh, he’s not here yet?” Reed looks at his desk. “Huh.”

“...Why would he be here?” Hank asks slowly, and a nauseous wave roils in his stomach as Reed shrugs. 

“Because I sent him here?” Reed answers matter of factly. “Precinct’s what, a ten minute walk from Starbucks? I thought it’d be better if he headed here while I doubled back.”

There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence and Hank’s own face of horror is mirrored by everyone else in the bullpen. 

“You left a fucking child-”

“Reed why the fuck-”

“Gavin he’s six-”

Everyone erupts all at once and Hank reaches him first, and Reed’s lucky he put his coffee down a second before Hank grabs him by the lapels and gives him a violent shake.

“I’m going to fucking skin you alive Gavin Reed, you absolutely fucking fuckwit!” He bellows, and the murder must be in his eyes because Reed looks like he’s about to turn tail and bolt.

“Why are you making a big deal over this he’s a fucking android!”

“He’s a six year old android!” Hank yells, shaking him again. “You left him on the street! All by himself! Would you leave a child out on their own in public?!”

“But he’s an android why couldn’t he have made it back on his own?!”

“Because he’s a six year old android!” Hank slams him against one of the boards, pure rage in his veins. “You better get the fuck out of this office and find that boy or so help me god Gavin Reed I will end you!”

“Lieutenant, if I may.” It’s Beth, one of the android receptionists. She waves him over. “A kind citizen just dropped Ronan off. He’s with Stephanie right now.”

He drops Gavin and rushes to reception, and there’s Stephanie crouched under her desk comforting a crying Ronan and Hank’s anger vanishes in an instant. He shrugs off his jacket and drops to one knee to wrap it around Ronan, gathering the boy into his arms.

“I didn’t complete my objective! I couldn’t do it!” The boy cries into his shoulder, little body wracked with sobs. “I’m meant to do it by myself!”

“It’s okay kiddo, no one’s mad, no one’s mad I promise.” Hank hushes him, rubbing his back as he squeezes him close. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“I didn’t complete my mission!” Ronan hiccups, clinging to Hank like a lifeline and Hank makes a mental note to skin Gavin with a butterknife later. “Detective Reed told me-”

“Detective Reed is a-” deep breath, sharp inhale. “-unused to caring for YK500s. He gave you a mission meant for older androids, not little children.”

“But it was easy, he said-”

“It doesn’t matter what he said.” Hank spits, and the boy stiffens in his hold. He sighs heavily and presses a kiss into his hair before he can stop himself. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re here, and you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry.” Ronan mumbles, and Hank pulls away just far enough he can look him in the eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Ronan, do you understand?” He wipes the boy’s tears away with his thumb. “You’ve done nothing wrong, absolutely nothing.”

Swallowing thickly, the boy sniffles back the last of his tears and manages a nod. He rubs his eyes before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Hank’s neck again. 

“There there, I’ve got you kiddo.” He soothes, standing up and simply carrying him into the bullpen. He avoids looking at Reed because he knows the moment he lays eyes on him he’ll fly into a fit of rage and murder may be committed. “I have to go and talk to Captain Fowler and do some work, but Connor will be right here with you.”

He glances over and Tina quickly wheels Ronan’s chair over to Connor’s desk, and Hank gently lowers the boy to sit. Reluctantly untangling his hold on him, Hank smoothes the boy’s hair back and thumbs away the last of his errant tears.

“Connor, you’ll look after your brother won’t you?”

“Yes Hank!” Connor nods eagerly, already reaching across to hold his hand. Ronan’s lower lip trembles for a moment, before he steels himself and squeezes Connor’s hand. “Ronan, you must replenish your fluids! Here, have one of mine.” With his other hand, Connor plucks out another pouch from his backpack propped on his desk. “I’m going to let go so I can put the straw in, okay?”

“Okay.” Ronan sniffles as he nods, and Connor pokes the straw into the pouch before offering it to his brother. 

“Here you go.” Ronan takes it with one hand and seeks Connor’s hand with his other, big grey eyes still glassy with barely restrained tears. Leaning over, Hank gives them both a kiss to the crown of their heads, nosey colleagues be damned before following Tina into Fowler’s office.

[sratsome-jack]

BTV WIP Wednesday

Pinglist: @kita-lavellan​| @mrstethras​ | @silvanils​ | @noire-pandora​ | @jarakrisafis​ | @cheapertevinterglam​ | @followingthewolf​ | @moonlightheretic​

Oh wow guess what, this week y’all get an entire draft chapter cause I love this one so much! Here is the promised Chapter 19 that I teased on Sunday!

Chapter 19: Long Nights and Painful Shoes

Rhiannon was a ball of nerves as she sat in her suite at the Winter Palace having that horribly uncomfortable dress put on her. Being an elf at the Orlesian court was already going to put her at a disadvantage, and now she had to somehow impress them all while looking for assassins. At least maybe Cullen would ask her to dance and make this somewhat worth it.

Once she was fully in the dress, Josephine pulled out a chair for her.

“Allow me to fix your hair for you,” she said, gesturing for Rhiannon to sit down.

Rhiannon sighed. “Please don’t give me something that’s going to hurt and threaten to fall out every five minutes.”

“I promise that it won’t hurt at all. You’ll look lovely and you won’t feel a thing,” Josephine assured her as she began to braid Rhiannon’s hair.

Rhiannon sat idly as Josephine began to pin the braids in various places, using the volume of her already thick, curly hair to create quite a large exquisite updo. Rhiannon had to admit that it was kind of fun being made up to look this beautiful. If only the dress wasn’t so uncomfortable.

As Josephine was just finishing up, Rhiannon heard the door open. She spun around to see Cullen standing there, dressed in his formalwear. She could feel her face become flush as she admired him. He looked quite handsome all dressed up like that.

She stood up to reveal her gown. Cullen didn’t say a word, he just stood there, looking almost as though he was in awe of her.

“I…I came to escort the both of you down to the ball,” he stammered.

He held out an arm to Rhiannon.

Rhiannon smiled, and went to take it. It was both a romantic gesture as well as the thing that would keep her from tumbling down all those stairs in that outfit.

When they arrived at the ball, Rhiannon found that the atmosphere at the Winter Palace was more than overwhelming. No amount of preparation could have readied her for this. It felt as though one small slip up could ruin everything. And as if trying to maintain basic social etiquette wasn’t enough, Rhiannon had been thrown headfirst into ‘the game’.

The dress and the shoes were not helping one bit. Rhiannon still had some blisters from her dancing lessons a few days ago and it was somewhat of a struggle to even walk straight.

Walking into the ballroom, she felt unbelievably out of place. As she was being introduced to the Empress Celine, she felt strange walking across the floor. It crossed her mind that only a few short months ago, everyone in this room would not have held her in such high regard. She felt as though she was a different person. She had never pictured herself as someone who would be clad in a silver ballgown made of satin and lace that felt like it was almost as wide as she was tall while wearing shoes that hurt her feet.

Once the introductions were complete, she found herself feeling lost. She searched around for her companions and advisors, or someone to throw her a lifeline. As she was making the rounds, she spotted Cullen who had captured the attention of many of the Orlesian nobles. She could hear him rejecting multiple offers to dance. She smiled as she approached him.

“Enjoying the party?” she asked, teasingly.

Cullen sighed. “Rhiannon, thank the maker you’re here.”

“I don’t suppose you’d save a dance for me,” she said, eagerly.

“No, thank you,” Cullen said.

Rhiannon felt her heart sink. “Oh,” she said, looking down at the ground sullenly.

She was going to have to remember to kill Varric and Dorian later. Especially Varric for convincing her that Cullen would ask her to dance.

“No, I didn’t mean to…” Cullen stammered, backtracking a little, “maker’s breath I’ve answered that question so many times, I’m rejecting it automatically.”

Rhiannon perked up a bit.

“I’m not one for dancing,” he continued. “templars never attended balls.”

Now she was definitely going to have to kill Varric and call him on his wager that Cullen would ask her for a dance by the end of the night. At least he was rejecting everyone for a dance.

“You’ve attracted a following,” she commented, noticing all of the Orlesian admirers who had gathered around him intently, “who are all these people?”

“I don’t know,” Cullen responded, “they won’t leave me alone.”

The thought of a frustrated Cullen being surrounded by relentless suitors almost made Rhiannon giggle but she managed to maintain her decorum.

“Not enjoying the attention then?” she quipped.

“Hardly,” Cullen replied, “anyway, yours is the only attention worth having.”

Rhiannon blushed a little. Even if he wasn’t going to dance with her, he still knew how to make her feel special.

After she had finished talking to her beau, Rhiannon continued her tour around the ballroom and the guest wing, searching for things that could help her with her task but also keeping an eye out for Varric and Dorian. She found them mingling in the garden and practically stomped over towards them, or well, whatever the equivalent of stomping in those shoes was.

“You two owe me,” she said, a snarky undertone in her voice. “Especially you, Varric. 5 sovereigns I think you said.”

“The night is still young, Rosy,” Varric commented, “although I realize it may not seem like it.”

“You can forget about Cullen asking me to dance,” she said, “I asked him to dance and he told me that he doesn’t dance at all.”

Varric laughed. “I’m not giving you a copper until the night is over. You never know what could happen.”

“All those hours in the tavern, struggling to learn those fancy human dances, nearly making my feet bleed, for what?” Rhiannon mused, “I can’t believe I let myself be talked into it all.”

“My dear, if you’re so torn up about the Commander scorning you, I promise I’ll save you a dance and we’ll make him horribly jealous,” Dorian said, “but you really must focus on the task at hand. The fate of a nation rests on you and we can’t have you distracted by silly little things like being left without a dance partner.”

“As much as I really don’t want to try to run around in this damn thing, you’re right,” Rhiannon huffed, “but when we get out of here don’t think I won’t get you both back for this.”

The whole night Rhiannon exerted herself harder than she ever had before. It was one thing to be trying to impress a bunch of fancy nobles but it was another to try and do that while uncovering secrets about various potential rulers of Orlais and manipulate members of the court and worry about fighting off Venatori.

The dancing lessons did prove useful when the Grand Duchess asked her to dance. She probably would not have been able to make it through the exchange and gain valuable information had she not learned the proper steps. Maybe she wouldn’t have to kill Varric but she was still planning to get some kind of payback and collect her 5 royals.

As it turned out, her dance partner was in cahoots with the Venatori the whole time and Rhiannon had to use her new found influence with the court to call her on it, displacing her. For someone who was so new to the game, even Josephine was impressed by how well Rhiannon had managed to navigate it.

After all was said and done, Rhiannon had not only displaced a Grand Duchess but she had also helped the Empress reconcile with her elven lover, exposed Grand Duke Gaspard for plotting to overthrow the Empress, and convinced Morrigan, the Empress’s arcane advisor to join the inquisition. Finally, she had time to relax and enjoy the party but she was almost too tired to do so.

After her conversation with Morrigan, she remained parked on the balcony, leaning against it to take some pressure off of her aching feet. It was not long before she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“There you are.” It was Cullen. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

He came up beside her, leaning over on the railing next to her.

“Things have calmed down for the moment,” Cullen assured her, “are you alright?”

“I’m just worn out,” Rhiannon explained, “tonight has been very long and my feet are killing me.”

“It’s been a long night for all of us,” Cullen commented, “I’m glad it’s over.”

Cullen placed his hand on the small of her back. “I know it’s foolish but I was worried for you tonight,” he said.

The music stopped briefly, and Cullen’s expression changed.

“I may never have a chance like this so I must ask…” Cullen came around and offered his hand to her. “May I have this dance, my lady.”

Rhiannon’s eyes lit up. Her feet may have been killing her but this was the one thing she had actually been looking forward to for tonight and she was not about to give that up. Blistered feet or no.

“Of course,” she exclaimed, grabbing his hand, “I thought you didn’t dance.”

Cullen pulled her closer, placing his hand on her back and drawing her in. It wasn’t the perfect frame that Josephine and Dorian had taught her, but it was good enough.

“For you, I’ll try.”

The two of them began to dance on the balcony together. Rhiannon knew that it wasn’t technically proper form to look into Cullen’s eyes as he led her but she couldn’t help it.  

“I never had the chance to tell you, but you look beautiful tonight,” Cullen commented. “Josephine spared no expense, did she.”

“Maybe standing through all those fittings was worth it after all,” Rhiannon replied.

Cullen chuckled. “It was that bad?”

“Let’s just say that you should get your fill now because I will not be wearing this dress or anything like it anytime soon,” Rhiannon told him in no uncertain terms.

“I won’t waste a second then,” Cullen said softly, staring into her eyes.

“You know, I spent a whole day learning to dance for this moment,” Rhiannon confessed, “Varric talked me into spending a day in this dress and these shoes in the tavern while Josephine and Dorian taught me how.”

Cullen smiled. “All this for me?” he asked, “I’m sorry I’m not better at this.”

Just then, Cullen tripped over himself a bit and ended up stepping on Rhiannon’s foot. She winced slightly as Cullen turned bright red.

“As I was saying…” Cullen said, sheepishly.

He tried to go back to leading her but she quickly found herself bumping into the wall behind her.

Cullen became flustered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Why don’t I try leading,” Rhiannon suggested, “I think I picked up enough to remember how.”

“Alright,” Cullen said, “let’s see if you can do any better.”

The two switched their arm positions. Rhiannon squared her shoulders and counted herself in. Almost immediately she found herself tripping over Cullen’s feet. She had forgotten that when leading you were supposed to start on the opposite foot.

“I swear I can do this,” she said, looking down at her feet and trying to position herself properly. “Alright, let’s try this again.”

Rhiannon took one step forward and found herself tripping once again, this time over herself. Her feet were in too much pain to be coordinated in any way, shape or form and she found herself falling right into Cullen’s arms.

She looked up at him from her weakened stance. “I tried,” she said.

Cullen couldn’t help but laugh. “A valiant effort, my lady,” he chuckled. “though it seems your feet have given up on you.”

Rhiannon nodded as Cullen helped her up to stand on her own again.

“I promise I’ll come better prepared next time,” Cullen said, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Rhiannon replied, leaning in to kiss him.

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You ch. 16

Read on Ao3

White noise.

That was all Adrien had seen or heard over the past five days. He missed fencing lessons, Chinese lessons, homework. He’d miss modelling appointments if his bodyguard wasn’t there to escort him. He didn’t know how those went. He barely remembered them once he was home. Plagg called it shock. He didn’t care.

It had been a week since she’d come back, showing up much like she had the first time he’d seen her: falling out of the sky. Sorry I’m late, Kitty.

Hope had not claimed him quietly. It had torn through his chest so violently it had brought him to tears for the third time since this nightmare had started. For a moment he’d thought the senti-monster had gotten him and he had confused Red for his Lady.

But no, it had really been her. He’d stared at her, unable to believe she was real, and realized, despite how hard he’d clung to her memory, how much had faded. The exact shade of her eyes with violet flecks no camera could capture. The intelligence in them that always drew him in. The beauty of her smile, the effortlessness of her grace. 

In that moment, it had all turned to dust in the wind. He didn’t care that she’d left him. He didn’t care that he’d made a mistake. He didn’t care that he’d been struggling without her. He didn’t care about any of it. She was back. And he felt like he’d finally gotten a piece of himself back, too. 

And then she’d disappeared again. He’d been confused, but had waited for her to swing by his window or leave a message. It never came. He tried sending her one, but there was no response. Two days passed, and another akuma attacked. 

He’d arrived eagerly. By then he assumed her memories just hadn’t returned. That was fine. He’d been searching for a solution, and while he hadn’t found one yet, he was eager to begin creating new ones. He was prepared, he told himself, for the event her memories never returned. It hurt, but it was a small price to pay for this miracle. Besides, he wasn’t giving up yet.

But when Ladybug had joined him minutes later, it wasn’t his Lady behind the mask. The nightmare returned, worse this time as the battled the akuma. Horror distracted him and almost cost them everything as Red explained a temporary holder had stood-in for her the other day. When he’d demanded to know who, she’d explained she didn’t know. Tikki had simply said to trust her and left with the earrings, returning less than three hours later with the jewels.

He’d almost given up then. He’d almost dropped his baton and thrown his ring down at the akuma’s feet. For a moment he did stop, his fingers loose on the cool metal. It was too much. All of it was too much for one person to bear. If Chat Noir’s heart was irreparably broken, then he didn’t want to be Chat Noir anymore.

Only interception from a nearby civilian had saved him from the akuma. It was a harsh reminder but one he needed. His Lady wasn’t the only person he was fighting for, wasn’t the only one with something to lose if he faltered again. 

At least they’d learned some things. One, this plan was one his Lady and Tikki had come up with together. And two, wearing the Miraculous, becoming Ladybug, wasn’t enough to trigger her memories. He’d noted those things, filed them away, and then sunk into a river of despair from which he couldn’t save himself. The pain of her literally holding her just for her to slip away again was too great. He couldn’t fight it.

So he’d stopped trying.

“Dude.”

Adrien blinked, looking over at Nino, who was staring pointedly at Mme. Bustier. “Mm?

“I asked if you would take Miss Bourgeois her homework today, Mr. Agreste,” their teacher repeated. “If you have the time?”

Chloe. That name finally stirred some feeling in him. Betrayal. Anger. Disappointment. He grabbed onto them like a lifeline. Anything was better than this numbness. “Sure.”

He had to get a grip. He’d always tried to see the best in everyone and everything, to find the silver lining. It had become infinitely more important since Hawkmoth had appeared. And if he couldn’t get it together, it would only be a matter of time until an akuma floated through his window with his name on it. 

It changed nothing, he decided as he belatedly shoved his books into his bag, only realizing the day was truly over as his classmates began to leave. What happened wasn’t his Lady’s fault. It was Tikki’s. She could have picked someone else, anyone else. Part of him knew there were probably extenuating circumstances that couldn’t be avoided. It was certainly the first time a sent-monster had accompanied an akuma in some time, and he’d been unable to use his cataclysm. Perhaps Tikki had panicked, trusting his Lady’s instincts to be enough to save them both - which they had. Could he even be angry?

Yes, he decided, standing and accepting Chloe’s homework from Mme. Bustier. He could. Tikki could have told her to wait, or to come back. Tikki could have changed it all.

But had anything really changed? No. Tikki probably knew that, too. That was what the letter had said, hadn’t it. ‘Once it’s safe’. Hawkmoth had a copy of the book, too. Perhaps their nemesis had found what he’d been unable to do: a way to restore lost memories. 

It didn’t matter. It was all speculation. He knew his Lady would never do anything to hurt him. He knew what had happened wouldn’t have been her choice, if she knew what it would have meant. It didn’t make it hurt any less. If anything it hurt more, to see face to face just how much he had lost.

“Um…Adrien?”

Marinette’s voice jerked Adrien back to the empty classroom. He realized he’d been staring at his desk, not seeing it. Even Nino had left. He’d probably said goodbye and he hadn’t even heard him.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien said. His voice came out rusty with disuse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken more than two words to anyone. Probably not at all in the past five days.

His classmate was peeking up at him from under her lashes as she fiddled with something in her hand. “I was going to ask you if you were ok,” she said, “But that would be dumb, because I can tell something’s wrong. We all can.” She finally looked up at him. “We’re all worried about you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to let you know that we’re here for you, and… and I made this for you.”

She held out the small package she’d been fidgeting with. Adrien took it, surprised, and pulled the pale pink ribbon to open the gift. Inside was a small quilted book. It smelled like lavender and vanilla - like Marinette. When he opened it, he discovered it was a sort of photo album, filled with pictures of him with all his friends. Him and Nino goofing off, him and Kim and Max playing video games, him and Juleka modelling together. The only one missing was…

“You’re not in any of these,” he said, looking up.

Marinette shrugged. “I kinda ran out of room,” she explained. “There were so many great photos to choose from, and - ”

“Will you bring one so I can add it?” Adrien asked, squeezing the little book. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, Marinette, but it needs a picture of my best friend.”

“Your best…” Marinette trailed off, staring up at him. “Me?”

Adrien nodded. He didn’t know when it had happened, or how, considering how nervous his celebrity seemed to make her, but when he needed someone, Marinette was the person he thought of first. When he needed advice, Marinette was the one he turned to. When he needed a break, Marinette’s balcony was the one he ended up on.

“Why don’t we take a picture right now?” Adrien suggested as the inspiration nudged him. “And then I’ll add it to the book.”

“Um, sure,” Marinette said with a grin. “I’ll, um, try to find another protective sheet thingy for it.”

“Deal,” Adrien said, pulling out his phone. He opened up the camera, then wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her close. After a moment, she placed an arm around his waist as well. He tried not to shudder at the contact, tried to suppress the memories that surged up from the last time he’d been this close to someone - to her. He’d promised himself he’d never let her slip away, never let himself lose her again, only for her to disappear like smoke on the wind.

But Marinette was real, he told himself. She was here, and she wasn’t going to disappear. He could feel her warmth through his shirt, could smell the same lavender and vanilla coming from her.

As though she could sense the anguish rolling off him in waves, Marinette twisted, wrapping both her arms around him in a tight hug. It was almost enough to trigger more tears, but he swallowed them. He’d cried enough. It was time to look to the future.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Adrien whispered. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he took the photo. He wanted to remember this feeling after it had passed, to be able to pull this photo out the next time he felt like crying and remember there was still love to be had if he was willing to accept it.

Marinette dropped her arms and stepped back, as though she were overwhelmed as well. “You’re welcome,” she said quickly. “Um, out did it turn how?”

Adrien chuckled, opening up the photo. It was a little off-centre, a little crooked. It was perfect. “I love it,” he said. “It’s the perfect addition.”

“Yeah, you’re perfect,” Marinette said softly as she looked over his shoulder. “I mean, it’s perfect. Could you maybe…send it to me? So I can have a picture with my best friend, too?”

“Deal,” Adrien said, already sending it over. “Thank you, Marinette. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, beaming. “And…if you want, I can take Chloe her stuff.”

Adrien blinked. He’d forgotten all about Chloe. “I don’t mind,” he said, shouldering his bag. “It’ll just be a quick trip.” And the Grand Palais was on his patrol route. He might as well start there. He’d be doing several laps anyway.

“Want company?” Marinette offered.

He did, he realized. He wanted to ask her along more than anything, wanted to bring her along and show her his Paris, to spend the evening with a friend, to lose himself in Marinette until he could blot out his Lady and his impossible quest altogether. Just for one night.

But he knew, even as his brain raced ahead to the logistics between ‘Adrien’ and ‘Chat Noir, that he couldn’t. That it wouldn’t be just one night or one time. He knew he could fall in love with her, if he let himself forget.

It would be easy. So incredibly easy. And selfish.

“Thanks,” Adrien said, “But it’s ok. I’m…I’ll be ok.”

“Ok,” Marinette said, adjusting her bag. “There’s always something for you at the bakery if you change your mind.” She left with a wave, and Adrien watched her go, waiting until he knew she was too far to chase after her to head down to his waiting car.

“To the Grand Palais,” Adrien instructed as he strapped in. His bodyguard raised and eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he turned onto the busy street. The trip was quick, and they arrived sooner than Adrien would have liked. He grabbed his bag. “I’m going to be working with Chloe for a while. You should head back.”

His bodyguard frowned.

“Group project,” Adrien explained. “Wasn’t my choice. Her driver will give me a ride back.”

His bodyguard finally nodded and popped the locks on the door. Adrien waited until he drove away to head into the hotel. He’d convinced himself it was no big deal, but the truth was that it was. Chloe had been his first friend, his oldest friend. He’d never imaged she was capable of siding with Hawkmoth. He knew she was no saint, but he hadn’t thought she’d betray them like that.

He’d been to Chloe’s several times, both as Adrien and as Chat Noir, but it was different this time. Even behind the mask, it had always felt like a second home. Now he felt like a stranger. He didn’t know her any more. Maybe he never had.

“It’s unlocked,” Chloe called when he knocked on the door. 

Adrien took a deep breath and opened the door.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t Chloe in the middle of her spacious room, swathed in yards and yards of black and yellow bridal satin with pins pressed between her lips as she attempted something like draping. It took him a minute to realize his assumption had been right - she was basing her design project on herself. Some things never did change. 

“Maybe you misread the assignment, Chloe,” Adrien said coolly. “You’re supposed to design something based off one of the heroes, not the villains.”

She barely spared him a glance, and rolled her eyes when she did. “I can accept that you can’t forgive what I did,” she managed around the pins, “But if I wanted to be verbally abused, I would have just gone to school.”

“Is that why you haven’t been all week?” Adrien asked, stepping further into the room. “Avoiding everyone?”

“Tempting,” Chloe said, sticking her mannequin with a pin, “But no. I’ve been dreadfully ill. Today’s the first day I’ve been able to get out of bed. You all get to see my lovely face monday morning, don’t you worry.”

“About you?” Adrien said, dropping into a tufted chair and crossing his long legs. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“Well then I guess we were both wrong,” Chloe said, shoving her last pin into a fold of black satin. She stilled, one hand full of fabric, the other on the shoulder of her dressform, staring at it as though she could see in her design everything Queen Bee was supposed to have been, and everything it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally looking at him. “I…I made a mistake. Maybe the worst mistake of my life. If I could change the past, I would, but I can’t. I regret the choices I made. They were mean, and cruel, and selfish, and I have no excuses.  I’m sorry, Adrien. I understand that we’ll probably never be friends again, and you may never be able to accept my apology, but you still deserve to hear one.”

Adrien stilled, staring at his former friend as though he could still see pieces of her through the impenetrable wall that had gone up in the last year. “That doesn’t sound like the Chloe I know.”

“I’m trying something different,” Chloe said, adjusting a tuck, “Since that actually didn’t go so well for me.”

Logic and love warred in Adrien’s head. Logic wanted him to throw Chloe’s homework at her feet, tell her it was too late, and march up to the roof to get started on his patrol. Love had latched onto the hope that had taken advantage of his surprise and stolen in when he wasn’t looking.

Maybe he was still raw from losing his Lady. Maybe Marinette’s kindness had made him softer. Maybe, after everything, he needed something to be easy and good. Maybe he just needed to feel like he could fix something, anything at all. Maybe he just needed something to be normal again.

Maybe he just needed to know that forgiveness was possible. To know he was capable of giving it, and to hope that, when the time came, he was worthy of receiving it.

“Do you mean it?” Adrien asked quietly. His knuckles had gone white, wrapped around the arms of the chair. “Sincerely?”

Chloe looked up into his face, unflinching. “More than anything in my life. Probably more than anything I ever will.”

Adrien took a breath. Held it. Then let it go. Let it all go. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He offered a cautious half-smile. “Okay. I accept.”

Chloe bit her lip and ducked her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Okay. Thank you, Adrien. That…it means a lot to me. I know that I…I crossed a lot of boundaries, so we’ll just take it slow, and you can let me know where they are?”

“Sounds fair to me,” Adrien said. Finally, finally, something felt right again. Chloe shot him a grin over the mannequin’s shoulder and he returned it, reaching for his bag. “By the way, I actually came by to drop of… what was that?”

Chloe frowned. “What was that?”

“The light’s just…” Adrien squinted at the lights as they flickered again. He wouldn’t have noticed normally, except it never should have happened in the hotel.

“Adrien,” Chloe said, abruptly striding over to him. “You need to get out of here. Now.”

“What?” Adrien pushed back, shocked. “What are you talking about.”

“Something’s wrong,” she said, glaring around the room. “Can you feel it?”

He could, actually, but he didn’t know Chloe could, too. 

“Ok,” he said, letting her steer him towards the door. If the hall was empty, he could transform and swing in through the window in seconds. If not, the elevator was just a few feet away.

They hadn’t taken three steps, however, when a large shadow pooled in front of the door, a tiny charm hovering in its centre. Then it grew teeth. Sharp teeth.

“Senti-monster,” they said at the same time. They glanced at each other, momentarily surprised, then back-peddled as the creature began to ooze towards them, slow but steady. The razor sharp fangs glinted in the light, but aside from the teeth, it remained half-corporeal, mostly shadow.

One of his worst fears was coming true. He was trapped with no where to go. Chat Noir could save them, but then Chloe and Hawkmoth would learn his identity. His Lady’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

“In here,” Chloe said, yanking him into the bathroom. She slammed the door shut behind them, locking it.

“Something tells me that’s not going to stop it,” Adrien said. Sure enough, the shadows at the bottom of the door were beginning to undulate and coalesce. 

“I don’t disagree with you,” Chloe said. “Dammit. I was really hoping to keep it a secret this time. Tikki, spots on!”

Before he could even process what was happening, Adrien saw a red blur pop out of Chloe’s sweater and disappear into a pair of familiar black studs he hadn’t even noticed she’d been wearing.

All Adrien could do was watch through the pink light as the mask blazed across his friend’s eyes. All this time. All these weeks of ignoring her, of everyone shunning her. The taunts, the comments, the snide remarks. She’d been the one who stepped in for his Lady. She’d been saving all of them. And Ladybug had chosen her to do it.

“You? You’re - ”

“A temporary situation,” Red said, turning to the window. “I don’t think I need to tell you, but obviously this stays between us.” She popped it open and leveraged herself onto the sill before glancing back down at him. “If I had another choice, I would’t have dragged you into this, but Adrien, there are things going on right now that you don’t understand. I know you must be confused, but I need you to trust me.”

“I…I do.” What? What? He was so far away from what she was saying right now he hadn’t even heard her. He was still trying to process the fact that he’d been fighting side by side with Chloe for weeks and hadn’t even known.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Red said, unslinging the yo-yo from around her waist. “Stay here.”

Adrien glanced at the door where a shadow was starting to rise up. He could already see a tooth. He turned to say as much to Red, but she’d already disappeared.

“Well, I never would have predicted that.” Plagg poked his head over Adrien’s collar but ducked when he saw the centi-monster shaping up. “Why would Ladybug ever choose her?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Adrien grunted as he grabbed a broom from the closet.

“Time for Chat Noir to arrive?” Plagg suggested.

“I’d agree,” Adrien said, swinging the broom. “Shame about the audience.” The bristle’s passed right through the monster like it wasn’t even there. The teeth parted and a hissing noise escaped. It was laughing, he realized.

The bathroom door suddenly banged open and Red was there, a lucky charm already in hand. “When I distract it, run,” she said. And then she lunged at the monster.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Adrien said, leaping past her.

Except he didn’t leave. Instead, he ran to the closet. With or without Chat Noir, he was still Red’s partner. He snatched up shoes by the pair and began heaving them at the senti-monster. Even without the mask, his aim was pretty good.

The monster snarled, turning on him. It had gotten faster, Adrien realized. And bigger. Much bigger. 

He dove to the side as the monster pounced for him. He rolled, his shoulder stinging icy cold where the shadows brushed him. 

“When I said run, I meant away,” Red said, hauling him up by his bad arm. He hissed at the pain, and both of them were surprised when her hand came away wet. “That is…decidedly more deadly than I’m used to.”

Adrien heard the chuckle before he saw the explosion, but it wasn’t as far behind as he hoped. He tackled Red just in time, knocking her to the floor as the blast sent shrapnel whistling over their heads.

“My…closet…” Red whispered, staring over his shoulder. “My closet!”

Adrien followed her gaze. Sure enough, a gaping hole leading straight down to the Parisian streets was letting a nice breeze in where her closet had once stood. The sent-monster was no where to be found, but the charred remains of the charm that had been floating in its centre and an equally scorched feather lay dead-centre of the blast radius.

“I guess you won’t have to use that,” Adrien groaned, nodding at the spotted butterfly-catcher. “How’s that for lucky?”

“Oh, yeah,” Red said, staggering to her feet. “I sure feel real lucky right now!”

“The Lucky Charm will fix it,” Adrien said, pulling himself up. He paused for a moment as she sifted through the remnants of her wardrobe, as though his idea were just occurring to him. “Your suit changed. It didn’t look like this last weekend?”

“What?” She gasped as what used to be a Louboutin crumbled in her fingers. 

“Last weekend with that monster that stole everyone’s voices.” Adrien tried not to flinch as the memories of that day swirled up. “You looked different. I, um, saw it on Alya’s blog.”

“I couldn’t make it to that,” Red said as though it were just some party that had clashed with a birthday. “Sick, remember? That’s actually why I couldn’t make it to school. Every time I started to get better and akuma would attack and it’d wear me right back out. If I fail this semester I am so suing Hawkmoth for damages.”

“So that wasn’t you?” Adrien asked innocently.

“Don’t even try it, Agreste,” Red said, finally looking at him. “I don’t know who it was, and even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is Tikki took the Miraculous to someone else to stand in, and if it was who I think it was… well. I can’t say anything else.”

“You said this was a temporary situation,” he pressed unable to drop it. “Does that mean…?”

“Seriously, Adrien,” Red said, giving him her full attention. “Something’s wrong, ok? With the heroes. I don’t know what, just that Ladybug has this top secret mission or something. I don’t know. I didn’t get the details, and honestly, I can’t blame her for not telling me. I’m holding onto her Miraculous just until she gets back. That’s it. That’s the whole story. She didn’t even give them to me herself, so that is literally the whole story, okay?”

“Okay.” Adrien made his way over to his bag and pulled out her homework, dropping it on the chair. “Your secret is safe with me. Are you going to be ok here?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Red said, waving him off. “The miracle cure will fix this whole mess, I just cannot believe that mangy cat! And he doesn’t even show his face. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Alright, Chlo,” Adrien said, unable to completely hide a grin as he opened the door. “Catch you later.”

He slipped out the door as she reached for the unused Lucky Charm. Had he glanced back, he might have noticed the suspicious look she threw his way, but he didn’t, and the door slipped shut just as the Ladybugs began to fix everything.

“I don’t know if I should hug you or only give you kraft singles for a week,” Adrien said once he was in an elevator on his way to the roof. “That was incredibly dangerous of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Plagg gasped, swirling out of Adrien’s pocket. “Besides, I’ve been practicing! It only spread down five floors! And, if you’ll recall, I did promise to cataclysm everything she loves.”

Adrien’s retort died on the tip of his tongue. After all, how could he argue with that. Promise made; promise kept.

“Fair enough,” Adrien finally said as they approached the roof. “Okay, you get out of it this time. Plagg, claws out!”

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Thirteen - The Fling and the Almighty

I sat silently by his side, holding his hand, the only audible thing in the room was the buzz of one of the lamps and the beep of the heart monitor. It had been 24 hours since I had arrived at the hospital, and I never left since. Victor still slept, large amounts of morphine coursing through his veins.

The doctor had come and talked about Victor’s condition, almost like an accountant declares loss of income to the IRS: Three cracked ribs on his left side, a distal humerus fracture in his left arm, a penetrating trauma wound in his left thigh that caused major bleeding and required surgery, and several bruises also on his left side, the side of impact, that covered his body with angry red and pink hues. His pale face was also bruised and swollen on his left side, so much that he couldn’t open his eye. And all things considered, as doctors and the officers at the scene put it, he was lucky to be alive and not destined to a wheelchair. Most victims of T-bone crashes don’t live to tell the story, and if they do, their existence is bound to be pure misery. Victor had the promise of recovery, but also the promise of intense pain, hence the need to keep him heavily dosed with opiates.

The nurses would let him “come out for air”, as they put it, every 8 hours. They would delay the next dose of morphine, and let him open his eyes for a minute or two. He would wake up disoriented, a desperate look on his face, and I would do the only thing I could do: hold his hand and talk to him. Victor didn’t seem to be able to focus on me, his mind still foggy from the drugs, but he would hold my hand tight, craving the comfort of my touch. That’s when I decided that, even if I was completely useless in his recovery, I could take that role. I could be his comfort, his support, his lifeline. So I would hold his hand at all times, to let him know that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there for him. He would never be scared.

I couldn’t help but wonder how big dramas can suddenly look so small under a new perspective. A couple of days ago, my heart was aching over the possibility of a reconciliation, or the lack of it. My mind was entertained with thoughts of sorrow, longing, pride, self-preservation. My heart was jumping with joy and, at the same time, fear with Victor’s confident words in that elevator. I was eager to feel the joy of reconnection and scared that it would fail miserably again. However, seeing Victor in that hospital bed, his bare chest covered with electrodes, an array of tubes sticking out of his arms, made all those hopes and fears pointless. I had only one thing in my mind: I wanted him alive and well, back to his old self. With me, without me, it didn’t matter. I just wanted to see him again, dressed in a charcoal suit, walking tall, proud, and most importantly, safe. I didn’t care if I could only watch him from afar, or on the cover of a magazine, as long as I could see it. My phone rang, distracting me from my introspection. It was Goldman.

“How is he?” Goldman sounded tired. I shouldn’t have called him during his honeymoon, but LFG was minus its CEO and faithful assistant, and I didn’t know quite well how to proceed.

“The same.” I studied Victor’s relaxed expression, his long dark lashes, and dark circles standing out in his pale complexion. “Still sleeping.”

“Our flight is in two hours. We’ll be in Loveland by tomorrow morning. You shouldn’t be alone in there.”

“I told you, you don’t need to come. You gave me all the details, I have it covered. At least until he wakes up.” It pained me that Diane and Goldman’s honeymoon was interrupted like that.

“Andrea, we can’t possibly enjoy ourselves knowing our friends are going through this. Besides, I bet you haven’t left his room since you got there. Have you slept at all? Have you eaten?”

Negative for both accounts. But I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Don’t worry, I’m taking care of myself. I’m fine.”

I felt the grip in my hand tighten, and Victor stirred a little.

“I think he’s waking up. I need to go.”

I forgot the phone on my lap, Victor being my only point of focus. His breath changed, quickening just a bit, as he opened his eyes slightly and tried to take in his surroundings.

“Victor.” I called, squeezing his hand. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

His eyes slowly turned to me, and it took him a while to focus his gaze on my face.

“Andy…” His voice sounded weak and vulnerable. I felt my eyes water. Stop it, Andrea. Be strong for him.

“Are you in pain?” I studied his expression. Victor shook his head softly.

“Am I…” He tried to talk again. “I can’t feel my body.”

“It’s the morphine.” I hurried to answer, as I softly brushed his bangs. He closed his eyes and leaned against my hand, welcoming the touch. “It takes away the pain, but it also makes you feel numb. Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?”

After his brief nod, I filled a plastic cup with water, and with the help of a straw, I offered him to drink. He took it eagerly, almost emptying the cup. The nurse arrived shortly after with the next dose of morphine. Silently, she injected it in Victor’s IV. His eyes glazed over almost instantly.

“Try to sleep, okay? Get some rest.”

“Stay.” He sounded like a little boy, his voice soft and pleading, making my heart pang. I have never seen Victor so vulnerable before.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I assured him, holding his hand tighter. I watched as the drug took hold of him, his eyelids fluttering closed, his breath becoming deep and steady again.

Victor woke up again shortly that night, and I held his hand, offering as much comfort as I could. I must have dozed off after, because I woke up with my head leaning on the comforter on his bed, alerted by a loud commotion outside.

I heard a distinctive male voice almost yelling outside the room. It was Victor’s father. I wondered for a moment who called him, since Goldman told me he had specific orders from Victor not to call his family in case of an accident, except if it resulted in his death. The door of the room opened suddenly, and Gregory entered the room, followed by a lady in her 50s. I got up from my seat, ready to defend myself.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me, clearly offended by my presence.

“Victor!” The lady approached him, holding his hand. “What happened to you?” Victor slept away, unaware of what was happening around him.

“I asked you a question!” Gregory’s eyes were still on me, burning a hole through my skull.

“The hospital called me.” I answered calmly, trying to lower the tone of the conversation. “I’m Victor’s emergency contact.”

“You are Andrea, of course!” The lady turned to me. “I saw your picture in those tabloids. My name is Therese, I’m Victor’s younger aunt. You can call me Terry.”

“The hospital called you? A stranger? And I, his father, have to know my son is injured through the newspaper?” Gregory raised his voice a little higher, making Victor stir slightly.

“Greg, stop! You’ll wake him up!” Terry pleaded.

“Shut up, Theresa! I gave him everything he ever needed.” Greg bitterly stated. “The best schools, a good lifestyle, the best of everything. And how does this ungrateful child repay me? By shutting me out! By relying on strangers instead of his father!” He turned me to, hatred in his eyes. “I want you out of here.”

I didn’t move.

“My son should be with his family, not one of his flings. Either you leave, or I’ll make you leave.”

Seeing that, once again, I hadn’t budged, he took me by the arm and led me outside of the room. I turned to him to speak.

“You probably won’t see it that way, but I will be your best friend right now.” I said, done with being silent. This had gone too far. Victor deserved better. I would probably be forcibly dragged out of the hospital by security, but he was going to listen to me.

“You want to know why he didn’t call you? Do you want to know why he never calls you? Because you are a shitty father.” Gregory motioned to retort, but I wouldn’t let him. “I’m not done yet! Your only son is on that bed, mangled, bruised, knocked out with drugs because the pain is so unbearable that it would be torture to allow him to fully awaken and you are worried about the fact that the hospital called me instead of you?! Victor almost died! You almost lost your son to a stupid car accident! Why aren’t you holding his hand? Why aren’t you doing what a father is supposed to do, talking to the doctors, worrying, making sure he is comfortable, safe, and loved? Why are you here instead? Blinded by your ego because you didn’t get a phone call?!?”

Victor’s father was pale but unresponsive. Maybe if I read him the take-out menu I would get a better reaction. The man could be incredibly stoic. But I already knew that move. I learned it from Victor, who had clearly learned it from him. His lack of reaction was to show how strong he was, how impervious he was to my words. Fat chance, grandpa. I wasn’t finished.

“You know, I have had some insanely painful things happen to me. They were all over the tabloids, so I trust you read all about it. And God knows how much I blamed myself for letting that poor excuse of a man enter my life, but do you think my parents ever said the slightest thing to blame me? Do you think they told me they were disappointed, that I was a disgrace to the family, which I thought I was, actually? No, never, not once. They opened their arms and they loved me, they helped me to heal from the consequences of my mistake, they supported me. Because they are good parents, and that’s what good parents do. Victor started dating me, our lives got exposed in the media without us doing anything to deserve it, and you have the audacity to storm in his company, act like you own the place, humiliate him, and throw the mom card at him? How dare you? That crushed him! He was destroyed! Is that what a father does to his son? Is that how you teach him, how you support him, by leaving his heart in the same state his body is in now? So crushed it hurts to feel?”

By the time I was done, I was panting, tears in my eyes. I couldn’t possibly describe the hate I felt towards that man. But he was Victor’s father, and right now he had all the power, so all I could do was to at least try to ensure that Victor wouldn’t get more hurt than he already was. Try, even if forcefully, to make Gregory see things differently. Try to make him see what he was doing to his son.

The stoic stance was gone. There was rage in Gregory’s face, tears in his eyes. I didn’t know if he felt sorry for what he had been doing to his son, or if it was just anger showing. He spoke to me through gritted teeth, his voice raspy with emotion.

“Show your face here again and I will make sure your life is nothing but misery.”

I knew the threat was real. I was well aware of the extent of the power Gregory Lee held in his hands. But I was unafraid. Fear magically disappears when you are fighting for what is right.

“Do well by your son.” I warned him. “Give him the father he deserves. Because if you don’t, your life will be even more miserable than mine. I can die a disgraced woman, but I will have people that love me by my side. Maybe you won’t be able to say the same.”

“Stop, both of you.” Victor’s aunt called from the door of the room. “As much as it may pain you, Andrea is here because Victor wanted her to. It’s his choice and we must respect it.” She then turned to me. “Andrea, go inside. Go be with Victor.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I promised I wouldn’t leave Victor alone. I walked in and resumed my vigil from my seat, holding Victor’s hand, my heart pounding hard in my chest. I had teased the lion. Now all I had to do was wait for the attack. A few moments after, Terry entered the room, alone, sitting next to me.

“I do not care for the way you talked to my brother just now.” I suddenly felt shame for being so harsh and was about to apologize, when she spoke again. “That being said, thank you for standing up for Victor. No one ever has. God knows I tried.”

“I’m not Victor’s girlfriend anymore.” I confessed. Terry seemed so nice, and it felt wrong to lie to her. “We broke up a couple of months ago. He just forgot to take my name off his emergency contacts, and when they called me… I couldn’t leave him alone.”

“It’s Victor. He’s not the kind to forget about things. If he wanted you out of his life, you wouldn’t be here.” Terry gave me a wide smile. “Now tell me, how hurt is he?”

I quickly filled her in on Victor’s condition, and what had happened since I arrived. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“You’ve been here the whole time? You never went home?”

I nodded. She shook her head in disapproval.

“Well, we simply can’t have that. Andrea, you need to go home, take a shower, have a proper meal, and sleep.”

“Please don’t tell me to leave.” I pleaded with her. My heart tightened at the thought of not being able to see him.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Terry held my hand, smiling. “I’m just telling you to take a break. Can you imagine how upset he will be when he wakes up and sees you spent like that? He will have both our heads!” Her exaggeration made us both laugh. “You go, take care of yourself, and come back refreshed. When you come, I’ll go home and do the same. We’ll take turns, so he will never be alone.”

I hesitated. He asked me to stay. How could I leave?

“Andrea, he will need you. He will need you strong and healthy, to support him. If he sees you are weakened, he will worry.”

I wondered how she could just assume those things. Obviously, she knew him better than I did.

“Thank you. Here’s my number.” I said, taking one of my business cards from my purse, handing it to her.

“I will text you so you’ll get my number too. And I promise I’ll call if I have news. Now go.”

I held Victor’s hand one last time.

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

The Eagle of Unasta and The Dragon of Zarcade Part 3

Woo, the smutty smut time of the story. @waiting4inspiration​. Enjoy. 

Part 3

The day of the wedding seemed to come in no time at all. Your other best friend Olivia had noticed the instant connection between you and Zaq and offered to be an interceder for you. You would send your letters to Zaq, folded up inside letters to Olivia who would then mail them to Zaq under her name. Which worked out because you sent letters to her on a regular basis anyway, no one cared or seemed to notice the change and in those four months between the engagement in the late fall, through the winter and into the early spring, you wrote to each other nearly every day and Zaq made sure to pay Olivia handsomely for all the time, effort and expense it took to be the interceder and to not open any of the mail she was forwarding which Olivia had already assured both of you that she wouldn’t. 

In all that time, his letters were like a lifeline and in those months you got to really get to know him and know all about him and promptly fell head over heels in love with him as he fell just as hard and just as deeply in love with you. You had no idea how you were going to make this relationship work but Zaq assured you and reassured you that together you would find a way to make it work- come the fires of hell or the high waters of a flood and somehow you had absolute faith in him. 

When you saw him again at the Palace of Suter for the rehearsal dinner, you had to fight not to run into his arms and kiss him senseless and judging by the look in his eyes, he was fighting the same urge. But the moment you both managed to sneak away from the others, he had you pinned to a wall and kissed you like a man starved. You had managed to get one kiss out of him right before he had left after the engagement feast but now- it was like it was your first kiss all over again. 

“I. Missed. You. So. Much.” He managed to say between desperate kisses as you clung to him for dear life. 

“I missed you too.” You whimpered, being so happy to be with him again you could cry. “I haven’t been able to sleep well without your voice talking to me or singing to me.” You confessed as you gasped for breath between the deepest most amazing kisses you had ever had in your life as you pressed your forehead into his as a few tears managed to escape the corners of your eyes before he reached up to wipe them away with his thumbs as he held your face in reverence. His hands once again trying to memorize every curve of your face, a face he hadn’t been able to get out of his head ever since he first laid eyes on you before he kissed those away too which made you giggle before he hugged you so tight your back cracked as you hugged him just as hard. 

Unfortunately, it was only a moment before someone came walking through and your moment of privacy was interrupted. 

The day of the wedding felt like a flurry and it seemed everyone but you was running around like chickens with their heads cut off and Ester seemed to turn into a bridezilla because she needed everything to be perfect as you inwardly contemplated about eloping with Zaq as you sat in your seat in deep thought, barely aware of the flury around you. Would anyone really notice if you just disappeared? You had no idea where you would go or what in the world you could ever do. But as long as you were with Zaq, you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t need or really want all this fanfair. All of this was utterly ridiculous. 

“Miss,” a maid came and handed you a note, bringing you out of your reverie, it was a small note but you knew that seal. You quickly took it from her and thanked her before you walked out to Ester’s window to use the light to read it in some semblance of privacy surrounded by Ester’s huge wedding party all in her lavish rooms as all of them were in various stages of getting ready, since you were the maid of honor, you were the first to be attended to and now you simply got to wait and drink tea and snack on some refreshments as everyone else got ready.  

My Dearest Anya, 

I’m sitting here watching Xander slowly lose his mind that he’s about to finally marry Ester and I can’t help but think about what you would want when we get married. I can only imagine the monster she’s probably turned into in there but I have no worries or doubts that you’ll turn into one when it’s your turn. I would hope that you would just be happy. That’s all I could ever hope for is your happiness anyway. And I just want to say- don’t let this deter you from having any kind of wedding you want. If it’s important to you to be surrounded by your family and friends, then you should have exactly that. We will have as lavish or as simple of a wedding you want, personally I don’t care either way. I’ll just be happy to be your groom. If I have to jump through hoops that are on fire over canyons, that’s what I’ll do because you’re worth it. You will always be worth it. I’ll bet my life on it. 

Yours Always

Zaq Ceda.

 You practically had to bite your bottom lip almost in half to keep from crying but the smile on your face was brighter than sunshine, you quickly grabbed a piece of stationary from Ester’s desk to write down your reply. 

‘You are going to make me cry all my makeup off! 

But yes, she’s turned into a bridezilla in here. Her voice is going to be hoarse from yelling orders at everyone that she may not have a voice left to say her damn vows. I do not want or need anything like this. Right now, I’m wondering if anyone would notice if I just happened to disappear into thin air, like, how fast can we run to the stables and how fast can you get Sossa saddled and how long it would take to fly to either Shalia or Tasmus or another country that doesn’t have an extradition policy where we can hide out as refugees for a while and get married by whoever had the power or authority. Or hell, I have a hundred gold bullion in my coin purse in my room, do you think we can bribe the ArchBishop to marry us in secret right now before anyone would suspect anything? I would think it wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes. I’ll just go home with you or you can go home with me or whatever and everyone can just die mad and bitter about it. This is all just ridiculous. 

But thank you for the note and the reminder. I appreciate the vote of confidence. As long as you’ll be my groom, I can’t imagine I would want much else.

Yours Forever

Anya Unasta (hopefully, someday soon- Anyastasya Ceda)’

You quickly folded it in a particular way before sealing it with one of Ester’s other seals and gave it back to the maid and paid her a gold bullion, which for her was a year’s wages- if she would get this into Zaq Ceda’s hands and only his hands to which she revealed that Zaq had done the same with her before eagerly left and did as you asked before you started to pace, wondering if there would be another note or if that would be the end of it before the same maid came back, this time with a new note. 

“Miss, his response.” She whispered, her five gold bullion practically burning a whole in her pocket in addition to your gold bullion before she handed you a small box that was wrapped simply but elegantly, you unwrapped it in the greatest of care and it was a travel stationery kit as you gasped softly as you opened it at Ester’s desk and marveled at it. There were pearlized and metallic waxes in all your favorite colors, there were a small variety of seals with the most gorgeous designs you have ever seen in your life. And stationary that had your jaw dropping. You quickly fanned yourself to keep yourself from crying. There were fountain pens that were just as fine, if not finer than Ester’s. 

But before you could jump in and use it, you had to read the letter. 

“My Beloved Anya

Do not tempt me beyond what I can bear. 

That being said, I would hate for you to do something in haste in the heat of this moment that you could possibly regret later on. Have faith that things won’t get that dire and don’t assume that when we move forward that either of our families will be against it. I’m sure that once whatever issue your grandfather has gets cleared up, things will be much better. There is a plan already in motion, let’s just wait and see how it plays out. And if things go sideways, and all my contingency plans fail and everything turns to shit, then yes, I will fly to you in the middle of the night and we’ll elope and go wherever you want to go. I will take care of you, no matter what. I will wait however long I need to. I know you think this “hassle” is ridiculous, but if all this “hassle” is what it will take to court you properly to marry you properly so that you don’t have to hide to love me, so that our love can be seen by all and both of us will be proud to show it and that both of our families will be at peace with it- then so be it. Just be patient with me. Give me time to make things right, or at least the way things should be made. Our future is worth preparing for. I promise.

Yours Forever and Always

Zaq Ceda’  

“Damn it Zaq,” you sniffled as you used his handkerchief to wipe your tears in the corner of your eyes but you couldn’t stop your smile even if you tried. 

You pulled out the paper, marveling at it more before you used your new set to compose your response. 

Beloved- I almost hate how right you are. I will do my best to have more faith and do my best to be more patient with my current circumstances, I have absolute faith in you and if you say that you have plans in place, then I will believe you and trust that they were made with the same wisdom that you share with me. But make no mistake, I will make you mine one way or another so help me God- just as soon as I can.

Also Yours Forever and Always, 

Anya

You used your new supplies to prepare the letter and sealed it with a gold flaked wax and sealed it and handed it to the maid who promptly left and delivered it as you sat and marveled at your traveling stationary kit as you made sure to take note of every little thing about it and before you knew it the maid returned with a simple note which you opened to find a simple message. 

Go to the balcony.

You practically shot up to your feet and quickly walked to the doors. 

“Where are you going?” The other bridesmaids asked. 

“To get some fresh air.” You answered before you practically yanked the doors off their hinges opening them before quickly closing them behind you before you eagerly looked around and walked to the edge and looked all around. 

“You need to learn to look up when you’re looking for a dragoner.” Zaq practically purred as you looked up and saw him looking down on you from the balcony above. 

“The view from up here is second to none.” He mused which got you to laugh before you reached up and pushed your cleavage up more. 

“Better?” You teased which made him just shake his head with amusement and with an adoring smile. 

“Your smile is.” He complimented and you blushed crimson as you crinkled your nose at him. 

“So now what?” You asked as you leaned back guardrail and crossed your arms under your chest and smirked when you saw his gaze travel down for a moment before it went back to your eyes. 

“Hang on,” he held up a finger and dissappeared for a moment as you just stared up expectantly before your ears heard rustling before you left from the spot to look over and up and gasped when you saw him scaling the fucking palace as he used the vines to climb down. 

“Oh my god Zaq! Do you have a death wish?!” You tried to yell at him in a hushed whisper as you practically reached out to make sure he made it to this balcony at least semi safely. 

“You…” You tried to argue before he grabbed your face and kissed you with all the passion in his being as you completely surrendered yourself to him and practically melted in your spot. 

“I know you’re worried that today will be the last day we will get to be together. I swear on my life it isn’t. Just enjoy today, enjoy the moment, don’t let your worry steal your joy. Your best friend is getting married today, enjoy it with her. Ok?” He urged you. 

“Ok,” you caved and nodded before stepping up on your tiptoes to kiss him again before he pulled himself away from you and climbed back up and just as you were about to go back in you heard the vines rustle and went over thinking Zaq came back but instead it was Xander climbing down.  “Hi,” Xander said awkwardly. 

“Hi,” you laughed. 

“I need…” Xander began. 

“I know, just wait one moment.” You offered as you went back inside and got Ester and pulled her out to her own balcony. 

“Xander, you know it’s bad luck to see…” She began to argue before he just grabbed her face and kissed her and you got to appreciate that romanticism ran in his family as you went back inside and guarded the door to make sure no one interupted them.  

“Ester, I just...I just need to know that you’re walking down the aisle because you actually want to marry me, not that you have to, forget fate and destiny and the money and political bullshit, are you doing this because you want me or because you have to?” He pleaded and the poor man was near tears which made Ester start to cry as she clung to him. 

“Xander I feel like I’m dying. All the pressure, it’s crushing me, the whole world is watching and if everything isn’t perfect, what is that…” She started to sob before he kissed her again. 

“Then let’s just get out of here, fuck it. I love you so much I don’t care about any of this. I just want you to be happy. That’s all, that’s all I want. But is that what you want? Are you happy about any of this? Are you going to be happy with me?” He asked. 

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t be happier about marrying you. You’re my soulmate, I know that, I’m so lucky Xander, I don’t mean to be a bitch, it’s just...this damn dress is killing me.” Ester broke down before she held her lower belly before Xander put two and two together and took his dragon toothed blade and cut the stitches in the back before cutting the strings of her corset before she breathed in relief once she pulled all the constraints away from her belly. 

“That’s why you needed...” He said as he embraced her as she nodded in confirmation. 

“How far along?” He asked, happy tears in his own eyes. 

“Four months.” Ester confessed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. 

“I couldn’t trust anyone not opening our correspondence and finding out and everything going to shit.” Ester couldn’t help but laugh through her tears. 

“I’m just worried now…” Ester began. 

“No, no, no worries, most women in Zarcade are usually five to six months pregnant by the time they get married, we had our Pozur ceremony already which that was five months ago and to Zarcadians, that’s the start of the intimacy anyway, so no worries, it’s going to be fine. And see now you get to really wear the dress you prefer, cause wasn’t this your mother’s choice?” He asked as he casually took his knife and cut the sleeve and made a few other “random” cuts before the dress practically fell off of her as she gave him an appreciative smile before she kissed him again. 

“I am going to rock your world tonight, now go get out of here before anyone sees you.” Ester shooed him away before she picked up the remains of the dress and walked back inside. The bridezilla completely gone and becoming the happy bride she wanted to be. 

“Oh no, this dress got caught on something and tore, looks like I’ll have to wear the other one.” Ester sarcastically explained to her wedding party as you and her exchanged knowing grins as she got put into a different bra that wasn’t corseted and into the other wedding dress that had been made for her. 

Less than two hours later you met Zaq at the end of the aisle and happily took his arm and walked down just before Ester did and you happily signed the marriage certificate as her maid of honor right next to Zaq, having already memorized his signature. 

The marriage feast was of course fabulous and decadent and you did your best to eat what you could and when it came down to dancing, the only one you would dance with was Zaq. 

“So I have a question for you.” Zaq prompted which made you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him expectantly. 

“After this feast- there’s a Zarcadian tradition, where the whole wedding party flies off into the moonlight with the bride and groom and one by one, they all eventually land, since you’re the maid of honor and I’m the best man, we’re the last to break off from following the bride and groom. There’s a set of camps for the rest of the wedding party but if you didn’t want to camp with everyone else, I have our own set up that we can go to for the night.” Zaq revealed. “So it doesn’t matter what your parent’s say when Ester asks for you to visit her in Zarcade after her honeymoon, we’ll have tonight, it’ll be the first of many if you’re interested.” Zaq offered as your eyes got wide. 

“When do we return to everyone else?” You asked. 

“Well, you see that’s the thing, the tent is magicked, time passes normally for those in the tent but very slowly outside, so what may feel like a few days for us, will only be a night and a morning to everyone else.” He answered with a look that had your panties soaked. 

“Seriously? You could have told me and I could have packed for the occasion, and worn lingerie at least.” You playfully slapped his chest but your excited smile shamed the sun. 

“Wait, Ester’s gonna ask what?” You asked, that detail just now sinking in. 

“Well, judging by the way Ester and Xander are walking purposefully over to your parents right now…” Zaq nodded over before your head whipped around and found them before your hands closed firmly around Zaq’s and the two of you promptly left the dance floor as you dragged Zaq behind you as you weaved through the others with Zaq snickering a laugh behind you as he followed after you as you stopped just short of the scene, your chest heaving as your grip became as hard as iron on Zaq’s hand as he stood next to you as both of you watched with bated breath and eager eyes. 

“Dauphine Unasta, I have a favor to ask.” Ester began. 

“Anything Princess Ester.” Your father invited. 

“Immediately after my honeymoon, I wish for Ester to visit me in my new home in Zarcade, please permit her to come visit me for as long as I will want her with me.” She requested loudly, stopping everyone within earshot as everything seemed to pause as all eyes suddenly went to your father. 

“Surely you would like more time with your groom and getting settled with your inlaws before you….” Your father tried to excuse. 

“It is my dearest and most fervent wish.” She interrupted him and the look in her eyes conveyed that she was not going to take no for an answer. 

“If I may interject.” Zaq suddenly piped up and let go of your hand to step forward where your father’s eyes landed on him and there was suspicion veiled behind your father’s forced pleasant features. 

“In talking with your daughter Anya this evening I understand that the patriarch of your family, your father Eli Unasta Sr- is too ill to be here in attendance here tonight. Perhaps it would be a matter that would be best brought up to him before an answer is made.” Zaq countered and the looks of surprise and disbelief on Xander’s, Ester’s and your own face were almost comical. You could have smacked him, your father was this close to caving. What was he thinking?!

“Yes, that is correct. Forgive us Princess, Anya is most beloved by her grandfather and since he is the patriarch of the family, he does have the final say, when we return home, we will inquire and we will send word of his response when you return from your honeymoon.” Your father Leo put to Ester who you could tell was not happy or pleased about that answer but a quick squeeze of Xander’s hand a look that said ‘it’s ok’ kept her from arguing further. 

“Well, please convey the urgency of the request, especially since Anya will be the godmother to my future children and in order for certain traditions and rituals to be observed, her attendance will be demanded then.” Ester reminded them with a smile that said ‘I will raise hell myself if you don’t say yes’ and promptly left and gave you an apologetic smile to you before she practically marched away as Zaq then escorted you back to the dance floor. 

“What the fuck was that?!” You growled angrily. 

“Part of the plan.” Zaq began calmly. “You see now instead of your father feeling like he was forced to say yes and being begrudging and resentful about it- what do you think the chances were that if your father had said yes- that there would be no way you would have been able to come alone- your whole family or at least a brother or two would have accompanied you to act like bodyguards who would have put all of you on guard and would have made sure we had no alone time at all?” Zaq asked. 

“Extremely likely, but when my grandfather says no- that means I wouldn’t have been able to come at all. Some is still better than none.” You argued.

“But all is better than some. Have faith, hopefully your father now thinks I’m respectful and mindful of Unasta’s traditions instead of just my own or just Suters. Father’s dig respectful future sons in law- trust me on this. I need to win their faith, trust and approval in the small things so that when the time comes- they’ll trust me with the big things, like your health and happiness, they’ll be more willing to take that leap. This is a process, with many tiny little battles, but trust me, we’re gonna win the war, I’m in this for the long haul, whatever and however long it takes, it’s gonna be worth it.” Zaq explained. 

“But if it takes us twenty years…” You tried to argue. 

“It’s not going to take that long. I give it by the end of the year.” Zaq informed you. 

“Wha..? How? How do you think it’ll only take 9 months?” You questioned. 

“If I told you now, you wouldn’t believe me.” Zaq insisted. 

“Try me.” You prodded. 

“Your grandfather will say ‘yes’ to Esters request. I don’t know how he’ll say yes, but I have it on good authority that he will.” Zaq revealed in a whisper. 

“How do you know?” You questioned. 

“I’ll tell you when we get to the camp tonight.” Zaq placated before a quicker song started to play and he really danced with you. 

When it came time for the end of the feast, you happily put you dragon wool cloak on over your dress as your parents asked what was going on but you didn’t stay long enough to hear any of their objections before riding off into the moonlight with Zaq. 

And as you looked back you saw how one by one, each couple start to veer off, having passed the camp where a series of tents had been put up and once each one pulled away, the others would veer off and fly back to the camp leaving you and Zaq riding behind Ester and Xander before finally you saw a small tent surrounded by lanterns in a small clearing on a hillside, and on the opposite side another larger one where Xander and Ester flew to. 

“Wow,” you breathed in awe when you saw everything, appreciating how incredibly romantic it all was as Zaq took of Sossa’s saddle and things off of her so she could do as she pleased for the night. 

“Can I help carry anything?” You asked as you noticed he was about to carry her saddle bags and saddle into the tent. 

“Sure.” He agreed, happy that you were helping him and once inside the tent, you noticed how it was so much bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. 

“Wait,” you giggled as you left the tent to walk around it’s normal sized outward appearance before you went back in and noticed it was like a palace on the inside. It was decadent and luxurious and you just couldn’t stop laughing. This was the coolest thing you had ever experienced. 

“You like it?” Zaq guessed. 

“I love it, it feels like a home away from home.” You praised, trying to appreciate every little detail you could as Zaq’s smile turned absolutely adoring, because it was. 

“So, I wanted to ask you, if you would go through a Pozur ceremony with me.” He rather nervously asked. 

“What is it?” You asked curiously. 

“It’s where a couple vow’s their commitment to each other, it’s like a more private more intimate version of an engagement.” Zaq explained as he sat you down at a lovely and comfortable sitting area. 

“What is involved? Like do I have sign something in blood or…?” You guessed. 

“No! No, nothing like that, we literally drink a pot of tea together and each of us eat half of a Jetzi melon in between promising each other things in between each bite.” He explained. 

“Oh! Yeah, I’m in,”  you readily agreed. 

“Ok, there’s also special robes we get to wear,” he added as he showed you a special blue dragon silk robe set before you both got behind your own curtains to get undressed. You loved the feel of it on your skin before you came out wearing nothing but the robe and could tell he wasn’t wearing anything under his as he showed you to a special area where a pot of tea and a melon were before he poured you a cup of tea and had you drink some as he sliced the melon in a very specific manner as you noticed there was a basket with other melons along with other fruits. 

Jetzi melons were unique to Zarcade- they only grew above a certain altitude and only grew in volcanic soil that had a good amount of volcanic ash and was fertilized with dragon manure. They were sweeter than the most intense wild honey and were famed for having aphrodisiac properties and they were incredibly fragrant and just him cutting the melon open filled the entire tent with the fragrance before you noticed that your tea was special Limini tea, it also didn’t grow below a certain altitude and needed special conditions too. It had a tropical fruit flavor with a kick that wasn’t necessarily like caffeine or even alcohol or even spicy or tart or sour but perhaps a mix of all of them, but it had euphoric effects on the drinker and the only way it had been described is it helped couples feel love drunk, but only if they were predisposed to feel that way. Otherwise it just helped you feel at peace and a sense of serenity and was also popular to drink after funerals to help with the mourning process while Jetzi melons were usually strictly a honeymoon fruit to nonzarcadians. 

Once he was done slicing it in half, he took a spoon to one side and scooped out some of the center pulp and held out his hand for your teacup before you handed it back and he dropped it into the tea and refilled the cup and handed it back as you watched as the stringy pulp that tied all the seeds together practically melted in the hot tea and when you had thought the tea had tasted wonderful before- now it tasted amazing. 

“Try not to drink the seeds, they won’t hurt you but I want to save as many as we can.” He urged you. 

“Why?” You asked curiously. 

“So we can plant them wherever we end up living.” He answered and that answer made you so unbelievably happy before he handed you a slice of the melon after he dumped a spoonful of the pulp in his own tea cup and then put the rest into a bowl and you couldn’t help but think the seeds looked like caviar or papaya seeds.

Then he presented you with a lapis lazuli stone connected to two necklace chains. 

"From now on, this will connect us instead of just these." He announced as he unwrapped the handle of his dagger to reveal a polished lapis handle and once you went and got yours and put them side by side- you realized they were the perfect matched set, his was a bit more masculine and yours more feminine but gorgeous but a dagger was hard to keep in your hand all the time before you put the daggers down next to each other on the table before he put one chain on his neck before he put the other on you before the stone magically split in half, each side having one half of an intricate design that interlocked perfectly with the other, looking like sapphire blue druzy from a distance and now that it was on your chest, you felt how he was feeling more intensely, he was nervous but so excited and he just loved and adored you and he was willing to do whatever it took to make you happy as you realized you felt the same way about him. It was so beautiful. 

“Ok, between each bite, we make a series of promises to each other, now what you can do is either repeat what I say or you can twist it or add to it or one up me or whatever you want to do, but you have to live up to what you say.” He said as he sat back into the couch with you, his tea cup in one hand and a slice of the melon in the other. 

“I promise that I will love you until the day I die.” He began as he clinked his tea cup with yours which signified the start of the ceremony before he took a bite of the melon. 

“I likewise promise to love and cherish you until the day I die.” You returned as you did the same and took a bite of the melon. It was so insanely sweet and rich but yet refreshing. Like a sugar kiss melon, papaya and mango all drizzled with wild honey had a baby in your mouth with hints of ripe peaches, custard apple, pineapple and kiwi. It was hard to only have one bite. 

For what felt like hours, you went back and forth, each of you practically making up your own marriage vows as you continued to drink the amazing tea, eat the wonderful melon and deposited the “used” seeds into a separate bowl, since all the seeds had a sweet coating but once that coating melted off, they gave a spicy aftertaste that made your mouth tingle and just a tiny bit numb but the heat intensified after a moment so once that happened, you had to quickly strain the seeds out of the tea and chug what was left in your glass so it didn’t “taint” any more tea before you got a fresh cup full. 

By the end of it, you were both laughing your asses off, feeling drunk on love but not really “intoxicated” to the point your senses were dulled or inhibited, if anything, they were intensified as you scooted closer and closer to each other until you were in his lap and kissing him in between bites of melon and sips of tea and it was like every nerve in your body was alight with delight while every muscle was relaxed in your body and even though you didn’t need the aphrodisiac effects of any of it, it didn’t hurt either. But what ended the ceremony was penetrative sex, so that meant that this was the most intense makeout session ever with lots of heavy petting and grinding and when you both tried wracking your brains with what you could possibly promise each other- you both gave up and gave in and once the robes were openned fully and you really got to see the other, you both realized the absolute prize the other was. 

And when he lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom portion of the tent, you were all too happy to wrap your bare legs around his waist and kiss him and grinded your sopping wet pussy on his waist as he groaned before he laid you down reverently. But instead of finally entering you, he worshiped you with his hands and mouth, you had thought that hours long kissing and grinding was all foreplay- no- that was just the beginning, now it was foreplay time. 

When his fingers and his mouth finally played with your clit, you couldn’t help it- you came- rather quickly and easily too as your legs shook and you pulled his hair and rode his face like he was a bucking bronco. And it was not just any old orgasm either- it was the biggest most intense orgasm of your life so far and you felt like the high lasted almost 20 minutes because Zaq kept sucking and licking up your cream like it was the tastiest dessert which prolonged it until you got to the point that you were overstimulated and begged for him to stop so that you could recover as he crawled up your body, kissing a trail over every inch of skin before he laid beside you and cradled you into his arms before he pulled up the blankets around you so that you would both be warm and once you were recovered, you happily hiked your leg over his hip and pulled him into you. You didn’t know how he didn’t have a headache from having a boner for so long. But when it finally entered you- it was overwhelming. One- you were a virgin. Two- so was he but both of you had read more than your fair share of smutty romance novels so you had a clue what sex was. 

Somehow you felt like you were being stuffed full to the point of bursting, yet surprisingly whole as you both marveled at how well you both fit together like two puzzle pieces finally locking into place. 

“Holy fucking shit,” you exclaimed, feeling like he was about to split you in half but at the same time, this felt better than anything ever had as you opened your eyes and saw that his own face was drawn in intense concentration as he shuddered but wouldn’t move. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“I need a moment, I’m trying not to cum yet.” He admitted because your hot pussy was already constricting around him and he was ready to pop. 

“Yeah, I don’t think we only have one round in us do we?” You asked. 

“No, but I don’t want to hurt you or wear you out, because I can already tell, I’m going to want to make love to you until we run out of cum or we’re both raw and you’re going to have to make me stop cause once I get started- I don’t know if I’ll…” He worried before you silenced him with a kiss. 

“I’ll stop you when I’ve had enough, I promise, just cum.” You urged before he tried to do a single pump and immediately came himself, cumming so much it filled you to the brim before it leaked out. 

But, but he barely softened before he seemed to roll into round two- using his own cum as extra lubrication and in no time at all, he brought you both to your second orgasm, then a third, and a fourth and after that you lost count, you experimented with every possible sex position as you used the nest of the bed and the overabundance of pillows to support the both of you and once you reached the point that your sex did practically feel a bit raw so you had to stop him before he had you both drink a milk drink that seemed to cool off your sex drives and invite sleepiness as the top of the tent was pulled back to reveal a silk screen so you could watch the stars and the moon as you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, all the lanters in the tent dimming until they turned off and once again, you both marveled at how you fit together so wonderfully. 

When you woke up, the top of the tent had been pulled back in place and the lights had been turned up so it was brighter in the tent, you felt like you had slept for at least 12 to 14 hours and while there was some residual soreness, you otherwise felt refreshed and restored and so unbelievably happy because the heart that beat in the chest under your head- you knew belonged to you just like you were sure that the one beating in your own chest belonged to the man you were sleeping with as you moved your necklace over to him so that the two halves of the stone magnetically were drawn to each other and fit back together to make a whole stone. 

“Good morning,” you cooed when you heard his breathing start to change as he woke up, his hold on you becoming a smidge tighter before it relaxed again before his arm that was wrapped around you stroked your arm tenderly. 

“Good morning Beautiful.” He grunted sleepily before he peeked an eye open and smiled down at you before kissing your forehead and squeezed you a little tighter as you hugged him back and kissed his chest sweetly before you playfully licked his nipple just to see him squirm. 

“Ah,” he laughed as he sunk his chest and tried to squirm out of range as you giggled and tried “chasing” him, since one of your discoveries last night was that he had sensitive nipples, almost as sensitive as yours. 

“Stop, stop,” he playfully pleaded between giggles himself as he halfheartedly pushed you back to keep you from doing it again. But this was too much fun as you both rolled around in the bed, half playing half gently wrestling before you managed to land your mouth on his neck and promptly gave him a hickey on his neck which he gladly let you do as your mouth traveled up his neck to his jaw then his mouth as you kissed him deeply, your body immediately seeming to slip into a rhythm as you grinded into him to feel his morning wood before you kissed a trail down his body, the necklace, being pulled apart once more because last night- you had discovered that sucking him off had been way more delicious than your sisters and cousins claimed it was when they did it with their significant others and the look on his face when you closed your mouth around his cock was so beautiful. The way his eyes were lidded and his smile was pleasured and the way his body reacted to it, was just so fun to watch. His breathing became labored again as his fingers threaded through your hair before fisting in it just enough to drive you wild and speed up your own menstrations a bit. 

“Anya, I’m, I’m gonna,” he tried to warn you as you sucked even harder and faster before his whole body tensed as he came in your mouth and you noticed that last night- his cum had tasted like the Jetzi melon and Limini tea but now it tasted less like the melon and more like...well what you supposed his normal cum would taste like. It wasn’t a bad taste- but it was more...well, you couldn’t describe it. But the look of him happy and practically dazed made you so proud of yourself that you had this power over him. 

“Alright, you’re turn,” he practically growled before he pulled you up so that you could sit on his face. Thank God there was a headboard there to hang onto because the feel of his mouth on your womanhood and especially your oh so sensitive clit was heaven and just about overwhelming and had you keening and crying out in tortured bliss over him as you rode his face as hard as you dared and in what felt like a matter of minutes you were practically screaming your release. Your mind was practically blown at this point. 

Once you rode it out, you got off to collapse next to him for a few minutes before going another round, this time slower than you had last night- really savoring each touch and caress and once you were both finally satisfied, then you realized how much of an appetite you had both worked up by the sound of your stomach’s growling. 

“Hungry?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed before he got out of bed and handed you another robe- this one just fluffy, plush and soft like fur, but it wasn’t quite fur as he then led you to the kitchen area where there was a large block of ice that was it's own room, surrounding every kind of meat and seafood imaginable- like a mini market inside the big block of ice that had an ice door and the kitchen also had a pantry stocked with every other ingredient you could ever want to make any dish you wanted and dishes and cutlery too and a spice cupboard that you knew could cost a fortune and every spice there was. 

“How did you get all this in here?” You asked. 

“It’s easy- I buy one of everything and put it in here and the magic properties of the ice- lets me have as many of the item that I want, you just have to be extremely picky and make sure that you have as perfect of a specimen as you can get and get as much of a range as you can.” He explained. 

“Cool, now how well do you cook?” You asked him. 

“I’ll be honest, I’ve always had servants cook for me, so I’ve never done it.” He confessed with a wince. 

“That’s ok, I’m fairly decent, we’ll cook together.” You urged him as he was ready and willing to learn this valuable life skill as you walked him through how to make a proper Unastan breakfast and after you cooked everything, he showed you how it had a macial dishwashing sink, you just put all your dirty dishes into it and they washed themselves which was a nice wonder. 

“Ok, so, spill, how do you know my grandfather will say yes?” You pressed as you sat together in your robes in the little breakfast nook. 

“Because my great grandmother is an oracle, her dragon that’s been the only reason she’s still alive this long- it uses it’s magic to do so, so one of her abilities thanks to that bond is to spill a few prophecies and turns out she’s been prophesying about you my whole life.” He grinned. 

“Nuh uh,” you frowned disbelievingly. 

“Really Eagle?” He teased as he went and got his journal and showed you the pages of half the prophecy he had written down just for this occasion and showed it to you and showed you the dates of the prophecy and when they were fulfilled about what you had said in conversation and what had happened during the engagement feast as you just sat there with your jaw on the floor. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” You marveled at it. “This explains quite a bit actually. Alright, alright, if you say he’ll say yes, then I’ll trust he will. I have no idea how he’ll do it, but ok,” you agreed before you handed it back before you stretched and yawned. 

“I don’t want to go back,” you complained as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“Well, we still have about a day and a half in here before anyone would miss us.” He gauged by looking at the hourglass next to the door. 

“Oh so that’s how you slow down time.” You realized as you got up and looked at it closer. 

“Yup, so far in real time we’ve been here for about two hours, because every hour gives us 12 in here,” he revealed. 

“Is there any part of your life that magic doesn’t touch?” You asked. 

“Not really, I’m sure Zarcade would come to a crippling halt without the magic of the dragons, and we’ve all gotten so lazy- that I don’t think any of us would know how to do anything without it.” He admitted. 

“Yeah, I’m not moving to Zarcade, I can’t imagine my boredom if I were to actually move there.” You confessed. 

“I know, I would never ask you to. And frankly, I can’t wait to get the hell out of it myself. While I love the fact that destiny brought you into my life- I don’t want to be ruled by it anymore. I see how happy my brother is with Ester and I see how happy I am when I’m with you- but I also see how miserable my parents are, and how everyone always seems to clash living together at the tower because we all practically live on top of each other and there’s hierarchy and bullshit and politics and intrigue and part of me doesn’t want you to come and see it all for yourself or ever be the victim of any of it. And when you come I will do my best to protect you from it, but I am only human, and I can only do so much. That’s why I want your parents to like me as much as possible because when I leave Zarcade- I want to be able to leave there and call your home my home and this is as close to Zarcade as I want your home to ever be. I don’t care if we don’t have a copper piece between us and I have to give up my dragon and all of this and all the magic my dragon shares with me, because life in Zarcade isn’t really life or living- it’s just...not dying, there’s a difference. The reason I pledged my undying fidelity, is because my father didn’t when he did that ceremony with my mother when they got married- and now I have more half siblings than I can count with just about every maid in the house that my mother keeps on getting rid of them to the other families and bringing in new ones and trying to get the ugliest ones she can and now I see the way my father looks at my brother’s wives and their friends and relatives I just want to hurl most of the time. It’s like he’s addicted to other younger prettier women and I can’t tell you the depth of my mother’s pain. But she puts up with it because she feels she doesn’t have a choice and the glitter of gold and jewels and softness of dragon silk can never distract her from that recurring betrayal. That’s why Xander was so sick yesterday because he’s scared that he’ll turn into our father because all these women keep making passes at him because he’s a handsome guy and he keeps rejecting them, as firmly as he can and he feels like he’s becoming an asshole but that’s the lengths he’s going to- to stay faithful to her. And I know Ester is already suspicious and I don’t ever want you to feel like I would ever cheat on you or betray you in any way, shape or form." Zaq explained. 

"OK, well good news is, that in the Unasta province, there are several high mountains in a mountain range near the sea, if I could get given a male dragon that Sossa would happily mate with, we can settle there and if we have to carve out a nesting site there, that's what we'll do, this tent can be our home even. We'll be OK." You ventured with a scheming grin. 

You enjoyed another 12 hours with him in the tent which was only another hour out of it before he had you drink another special tea that was a special kind of birth control before he helped you get redressed in your bridesmaid dress and cloak and handed you a backpack of other gifts and you helped him take the tent down, marveling how it all just folded up like a throw blanket with a few special rods and fit in a backpack of his own before he called Sossa back and he walked you through saddling her before you packed up the other lanterns and flew back to the other camp where you begrudgingly left Zaq's side to camp with your other sisters and cousins who wanted to stay up half the night giggling and gossiping about how fine those Zarcadian men were. You realized most of them were where you were four months ago. 

When you got home, you pressed your father to actually make the request that Ester had made and your father begrudgingly went in, letting your father’s giant boa out who slithered up to you as you pet her, not noticing how she nuzzled your belly before climbing you to nuzzle your face with her own. 

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can ask grandpa to let me go to Zarcade is there?” You jokingly said as your faith started to waiver a little before she gave you her version of a hug. 

“Thanks Shasa,” you smiled as you hugged her back before she left and went back into the other room through her modified “snake door” which was basically a doggy door before you heard your father call you to hear your grandpa’s answer yourself. 

“Yes Papa?” You answered. 

“Come here dearest.” He bid you before you came and kneeled down next to the bed as you grasped his withered hands as you could feel your tears prick your eyes as you prepared yourself for whatever was about to befall you. 

“Leave us.” He ordered the others and you waited until it was just you, your grandpa and his snake Shasa laying over him like an overgrown cat. 

“I’m so proud of you.” He said simply which made you lift your head and consider him. “You have always done everything your own way. And you are going to embark on the journey of a lifetime, I have been waiting for this moment my whole life- only you have the strength and courage to do what needs to be done. And you will make this leap of faith and your beloved will catch you and when the two of you make the next leap of faith, your family will catch you. You worry for nothing child. You will go to Zarcade- and when you leave- your beloved will follow you, but he won’t be the only one- more than you can count will follow you back home.” He told you and you wanted to pinch yourself, there was no way this was real. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him as you kissed his cheek and squeezed his hands. 

“Now, bring all of my children in here, I need to tell them too.” He said as you quickly gathered everyone into the room before you returned to your place next to him, eager to have him repeat his answer to everyone. 

“Write this down.” He ordered your aunt which recorded all of his commandments. 

“She will go to Zarcade and stay for as long as she wants- she needs to go, she has fate in one hand and destiny in another and she will mold both to her will. She is like the eagle- she is the Eagle of Unasta, soaring cloud high, proud and sharp, seeing and observing everything, she will be our spy in enemy territory. She will find the Zarcadian’s fall and demise and hold it in her hands and can turn them against each other so that they crumble from the inside out.” He foretold and your heart and stomach dropped and you felt like you were going to be sick. Suddenly you didn’t want to go anymore. 

“There is one that will abandon his traditions and ways to follow her and we must accept him for he will be her family and she will be his and he will be her greatest helper and ensure her success. She will see dragonfire and the dragon nests with her own eyes, she will understand and unlock secrets as the dragons themselves will show her and imprint on her and follow where she goes. She will be the breaker of chains- free-er of slaves and unlock sacred secrets hoarded by the Zarcadians since the beginning of time. She will restore my house and make whole what has been shattered and splintered and heal all my wounds and afflictions. She will be the first dragoner of Suter and she will bring dragons to the rest of world so that the Zarcadians will no longer be able to hoard them and their power, and she will bring in a new age and pioneer and bring together all the pieces of this puzzle. She will go. Prepare her and equip her with every tool we have. The Eagle will see all and her talons must be large and sharp to grasp her prey. She will not fail. And when she returns- she will inherit the mountains themselves and she will build a house taller and greater than any in Zarcade that will stand forever and we will use the time she is away to lay the foundations for her to build on, for she will be gone for most of the summer, she will be missed but she will come home to us with success because she will achieve the impossible, because she has already captured the heart of her prey. The one who her heart is set on- is a good, faithful, protective, honorable, honest and courageous young man, he has a strength of character that only diamonds can boast of, he will care for her for the rest of their days and will fill this family with joy and pride. He will be the first of many Zarcadians into this family and we will welcome them all, for they will all have their eyes opened and see their homes for what they really are. He must come as soon as possible and stay until Ester and Xander come and pick him and Anya up to bring them back to Zarcade, in the meantime, we will welcome him into the family with arms wide open and embrace him fully, for he is our newest member and we will open his eyes and show him that there is more to life than dragons and traditions, we will show him how we are a fun, easy going, hard working, exciting, loving, kind, hospitable and generous family, he will have the cabin on the hill at the very base of the mountains that he will inherit it with Anya and no one should interfere with their relationship or privacy- they are one- both in mind and spirit. When he comes again in the fall, he will marry Anya and their wedding will be the greatest this family has ever had, then he will stay forever and he and Anya will raise their family and the dragons in the mountains, give them everything they ask for. We must apologize to Anya for making her feel like she had to hide this from us, fearing we would tear her apart like wolves and disown her just for loving him. No one should ever feel that way, not in this family and not anymore.” Eli smiled so proudly at you as you gave way to tears, both happy for the blessing that said that you will make Zaq yours, but how could he ever forgive you for finding a way to bring down his home and spying on his country and his family? You didn’t know. 

[fastpacedfreefall]

InuKag Week Day 2: Friends

AN: Yay, day 2! I wrote this whole thing listening to a Demi Lovato song from a Tinkerbell movie on repeat because it’s relevant as fuck. Hope everyone enjoys! Takes place during episode 48, “Return to the Place Where We First Met”

Can also be found here

Inuyasha had a lifetime's worth of practice at keeping a mask up.

He had no choice. His world was not a world that is forgiving of weakness, and it's especially not forgiving of the weakness of a hanyou no matter how young and alone they may be. One of the first things he'd had to learn after his mother's death was how to keep control of himself and his emotions; youkai or human, anyone trying to kill him would quickly get the upper hand if he let himself get worked into a panic. That was something he could absolutely not allow when his mother had worked herself so hard to keep him alive against the worst inclinations of her family.

So he walked a long road of learning to place walls around his heart, and kept his true emotions as far from his sleeves as possible. Struggling to survive hadn't only taught him how to fight; it had taught him how to put a good front in the face of malice and ridicule. He became someone whose smirk shut out everyone and everything, never allowing anyone to get too far past the harsh exterior and inviting the possibility of more abuse. There remained places in his heart that even Kikyou did not manage to touch, and a single arrow cut off the thought that she ever would.

Hanyou didn't have friends. Hanyou didn't have family. There was no place for him in anyone else's world, no matter what steps he took to change that, and the world had kicked him in the teeth to remind him of that.

Then it was fifty years later, and his self-imposed solitude ended with a girl in the shortest kimono he'd ever seen yanking his hair for all it was worth.

Inuyasha had never known someone so infuriating. She was loud, she got in his face, she refused to just stay put in this time until they managed to fix what she broke. She wouldn't let him stay at a distance, engaging with him like they weren't quite literally worlds apart with two entirely different lots in life. Like he wasn't a half-wild beast she was supposed to tolerate and control until their quest was done. It wasn't like his time with Kikyou, constantly burying the parts of his personality he knew she wouldn't approve of, trying to make himself into someone who didn't grow up scrounging for survival with a target on his back. Kikyou had gotten under his skin, but Kagome slammed into him with all the subtlety of one of those 'rockets' she'd tried to explain to him. There was no part of him that she did not engage.

Sometimes he just wanted to take her by the arms and shake her—why is she still here? She should have left his ass weeks, months ago! Didn't she know what she was giving up by staying with him? She had a home, with family that loved her and people that wanted her around and a world where she didn't have to worry about youkai coming after her every day for the shards. She was smart, despite all the complaining he did about her school and how it took her away too much. She could have such a better life in her world, better than anything he could ever offer her. She had to know all of this, even without his resolve to give Kikyou his life in repayment.

And now it all had to end, because he had managed to forget that his life was not actually his own to control.

Walking to the well to tell Kagome goodbye had been one of the worst experiences of his life, right up there with Kikyou's “betrayal” and the night his mother's family threw him into the wilds. He wore a calm, subdued face, but inside his head he'd been screaming since his talk with Kaede. His mind was in meltdown, horrified that he was going to have to give up the first person in either era that made him feel like a person instead of just an animal to be looked down on. When had he gotten so used to her presence? When had he come to rely on the fact that she would just be there, that incessant-seeming smile tracing her lips and making his stomach clench in a weirdly pleasant way? What was he going to do when he couldn't count on her slight, strong grip holding him together when he couldn't muster the will to do it himself anymore?

When did she get in so deep, and why hadn't he noticed sooner the way she'd burrowed herself into his heart?

*

Kagome always thought she knew how friendship worked.

She'd never been overly popular; people didn't clamor to stand at her side like some of her classmates over the years, but she did well enough getting along with other people. She liked people, she liked helping others, so it all ended up simple enough for a small group of companions. Her friends were just normal girls like her, nothing particular to separate them from the sea of sailor-suited girls. Nothing beyond crushes and petty heartbreaks, fashion and popular music and nothing that captured their attention for too long at a time. Simplicity.

In some ways, her friendship with Inuyasha was anything but simple.

How could it be, with youkai and magic and clandestine time-traveling involved? It was so beyond any scope of normal, and it wasn't like she could really hold it up for comparison to her friendships with the girls. How did you explain to someone the kind of bond that forms from watching someone fight for their life, get holes blown through them from monsters four times your size, day after day? How could she tell her school friends about what she felt sitting up to keep him company on nights of the new moon, when the sounds of their sleeping friends faded into the background and the world narrowed down to just the two of them and their silent understanding? Inuyasha was sensitive about it, so she didn't bring it up, but part of her waited eagerly for those nights where she could smile at him unabashedly and see him soften in their little solitude. He rarely softened towards her like that when the others were awake. It was like a secret they kept between them.

Even before any kind of inklings of romance developed, Inuyasha had carved out a place in her soul and made himself a nice little nest there, refusing to budge an inch with all the stubbornness that she'd come to appreciate as much as it drove her insane. How was she supposed to give that up?

How was she supposed to go back to a life as a schoolgirl, like nothing had happened, like there wasn't a whole other world on the other side of the well, with people she'd bonded with deeper than she ever imagined she could? She must have been an idiot to think it would be as easy as just handing back the shards, even though that's exactly what she'd intended just an hour ago—she couldn't even look at the wellhouse without the thought of saying goodbye making her stomach wrench. Even the memory of Inuyasha clutching Kikyou to him like a lifeline paled in comparison to the prospect of letting go of him and the Feudal Era. It took every ounce of self-control to not fly into a screaming fury beneath Goshinboku the way she wanted to, keeping herself rooted silently to the ground with tears drenching the dirt below.

This was the man she loved, the best friend she'd ever had. How could she stand to tell him goodbye?

**

In the end, as it always was, Mama had known just the right thing to say.

She took those words into her bruised heart, and found a reconciliation. She gathered herself, and whisked herself back through the well.

She and he met in the meadow, and the promise to stay they made that day became one more linking strand in their growing bond. One build on the choice to cherish their friendship above all the twisting, complicated feelings that might come to surface.