#the snag will be fixed in the next chapter i assure you

[lupinlongbottom]

Burning Bridges pt. 5

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Weddings are a beautiful thing, no? (Y/N) and Neville finally bring it upon themselves to make out up, trying their best to work with what they’ve got. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: bit of swearing

A/N: ooo fancy. squint and you can see plot, maybe? dunno.

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 3 ... Part 4 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

___

The first thing Neville felt was the cold. The winter air nipped at his nose like an old friend, bitter and unrelenting. The cold contrasted the searing hot touch against his lips, suddenly and all at once. (Y/N) had pressed herself against Neville abruptly, effectively shutting him up.

“(Y/N),” He mumbled, pulling away reluctantly. “What’re you—”

(Y/N) pressed her lips to Neville’s again, a bit harder than before. Her hands connected around his neck, pulling him in deeper. Finally deciding the fight just wasn’t worth it, Neville gave in, snaking his hands around her waist, holding her close. The two swayed in silence, only breaking for a breath, going back deeper than they had left off. The tension that had been building like a taught rubber band for the last five years had finally snapped, blinding the two with a white hot light.

“Neville,” (Y/N) removed her lips from his, focusing on the flush of his face, noting the few freckles that had dotted the bridge of his nose. “I know this isn’t ideal—”

“—don’t care,” Neville mumbled, diving back in for another kiss, growing more daring by the whimper (Y/N) let out. The cold that had once bit at his nose was long forgotten. Neville grew more fearless in his motions, allowing his initial gentleness wash away, a low groan emitting softly from his throat.

“I never knew you were so daring, Longbottom,” (Y/N) pulled away, face thoroughly flushed. “Out in the open like this,” she glanced at the open courtyard, catching her breath. 

“Neither did I,” Neville smiled, resting his hands again at her waist, afraid to let her go. “But I need a push from time to time.”

“I’ll be here,” (Y/N) cupped his face, thumb resting above the scruff of his jawline. “I’m sorry if this fucks up our friendship—”

“—this,” Neville laughed, drawing circles in the sky with his nose. “Didn’t fuck up our friendship.”

“No?”

“No,” he smiled, pausing for a moment, thinking over his next words carefully. “Not talking to me for five years might’ve done that.”

(Y/N) slapped him playfully on the cheek, trying to pull an angry face. “Shut it,” a small giggle erupted from her lips. “Nev, can I be honest for a moment?”

“More honest than what we were just doing?”

She nodded. “Would it be completely insane of us to keep doing this?” Her eyes met Neville’s, looking for a wordless answer.

“I’m not following?” Neville replied, trying to see the suggestion in a different light.

“I want to snog you more,” (Y/N) admitted, not breaking eye contact. “I have a feeling you’d like to snog me more as well, but, someone may… catch us. Out here, I mean.”

“So you want to go snog in a broom closet like teenagers?” Neville laughed, pressing a kiss between her brows.

“Consider it making up for lost time,” she shrugged, grinning wildly.

“So you want to run and hide,” He started, watching (Y/N) nod. “Go snog in a dark room, hope that no one catches us,” Neville’s grin grew wider, smirking down at the woman before him. “At our friend’s wedding?”

“Bingo,” (Y/N) said, grabbing Neville by the hand and guiding him down the hall. Indeed they had passed a storage closet, thankfully unlocked. With one final double take of the hallway, the couple disappeared into the darkness.  

__

Sunlight filtered in through the darkness of the curtains hung carefully next to the bed. (Y/N) awoke with a beam of sun hitting her directly in the eye, blinding her momentarily. She felt warmer than usual, with a quick glance she realized that the blanket that had covered her legs was not her own. It was a deep green buffalo plaid print, terribly warm and inviting.

“What…” (Y/N) scanned around the bedroom. The layout was the same, bathroom to the right of the bed, dresser at the foot, doorway out to the living room adjacent to the dresser. Every corner of the room was decked out in greenery, from the various plants to the color of the sheets. “Oh…” she felt the bed shift next to her, begging her to look down.

It was Neville.

“Shit!” (Y/N) hissed, quickly glancing at what she was wearing. Realizing that she was still wearing the same dress she had worn the night before, (Y/N) let out a sigh.

Neville stirred in his sleep, groggily waking at the lack of warmth on his left side. At first, nothing was wrong, but the dream-like sight of (Y/N) practically threw him out of bed, toppling to the floor.

“Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked, quickly flying to the other side of the bed. 

Neville groaned in pain, having landed face first against the stone flooring. He mumbled a response against the marble.

“What?”

“Been…” Neville groaned, pushing himself off the ground, sitting next to the bed. He put his hands between his lap, stretching his back. “…better.”

“Don’t scare me like that!” (Y/N) said, flopping back onto the pillows.

“Scare you? Blimey, (Y/N) I would say that you’ve scared me a bit more just now,” he grinned, massaging his face, his eyes finding a large purple mark on his arm. “N-not that your face scares me! I just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Likewise,” (Y/N) admitted, running a hand through her hair, finally pushing it out of her face. A realization struck her. “We didn’t…?”

“Oh!” Neville shot up like a rocket, head practically touching the ceiling. “No! At least, I don’t think we did? I feel like I would’ve remembered? Right?”

“There’s no need to shout,” (Y/N) giggled, watching the tips of Neville’s ears grow redder by the second. “We’re still wearing our clothes from the wedding, so I don’t think so either. I don’t remember much from last night, which is odd considering I didn’t have anything to drink…”

“Neither did I…” Neville mumbled, flattening the white dress shirt from the night before, still buttoned mostly. “Come to think, I don’t remember coming back here?”

“We’re not forgetful people,” (Y/N) said, smiling. “Well, you’ve gotten better over the years.”

“Maybe someone used a memory charm on us,” He laughed, jokingly. “Let’s retrace our steps,” Neville said, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. “We were at the wedding, we went for that walk, we—”  

“—made out, yeah,” (Y/N) added. “I pulled you to that closet—”

“—where we only snogged,” Neville pointed, thankful his face was turned away from (Y/N). “After that…?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t have the faintest idea,” she focused her stare at the potted plant hanging in the corner of his room, leaves dangling almost to the floor. “I remember the snogging—Godric do I remember the snogging,” (Y/N) sang, swaying whimsically a bit to herself. “You’re quite the kisser, you know?”

“I-I didn’t,” Neville turned his head, cheeks redder than a radish. “Thank you…” he said, twiddling his thumbs.

“You’re welcome,” (Y/N) smiled sweetly. “Look, Nev, I think we need to talk… about last night,” she sighed, watching Neville turn his body towards her. “Well, about everything, really. Things got a bit explosive—”

“—it’s my fault,” Neville said, waving his arm. He crossed his legs, now sitting at the end of his bed near (Y/N)’s feet, deeply aware of her presence and how terribly close he was to touching her. “I-I shouldn’t have looked through your things.”

“You didn’t,” (Y/N) said, noting the Gryffindor’s stuttering. Had he been doing that recently? “Like you said, I had it laying out. Not exactly a secret I was trying to keep, I suppose,” she shrugged, fingers playing with the lace of her gown. “To be honest, I couldn’t begin to tell you why I kept that cardigan in the first place,” a chuckle.

“It’s a warm cardigan,” Neville shrugged. “You’ve always had a thing for warm jumpers.”

“This much is true,” (Y/N) nodded, glancing at her wrist. The pink ribbon was tied neatly around it. “You’ve always liked my ribbons,” she laughed, holding her hand up, allowing Neville to see. “I’m real sorry for how I snapped, it’s just seeing the ribbon, from that day… To think you found it, and then kept it for so long, I don’t know. Something inside of me just broke open.”

“Something bad?”

“If it was something bad, I reckon I would’ve knocked you to the ground instead of kissing you, no?” (Y/N) smirked.

“Fair point,” Neville nodded, albeit a bit fast. She always had high marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, excelling at the knockback jinx, her signature move. “I’m sorry I didn’t make a better effort to find you—”

“—you did,” (Y/N) said, stopping Neville in his tracks. “You said so yourself, searched all around the wreckage for me after the fact. I was the coward hiding at the lake.”

“Your dad died, (Y/N), you had every reason to hide from other people…”

“My dad,” (Y/N) scoffed lightly, her fingers still dancing against the lace. “The dad that was in Azkaban my entire life? The man who decided that fighting for a pure-blooded society was more important than the blood of his own family? Deciding the fate of the daughter he knew for a few days, planning to marry her off to another pure-blooded bloke just to keep their family blood clean? Some dad.” 

“You were mourning the man you wish he could’ve been, not the man he was, right?” Neville said, hesitantly placing a hand on (Y/N)’s ankle, trying to comfort her. (Y/N) nodded.

“Sometimes I have dreams, you know? About what my life would’ve looked like if he hadn’t chose the life he did. He would buy me sweets all the time, teach me how to ride a broom, spoil me rotten,” (Y/N) let out a choked laugh, but no tears came. “But… he didn’t. I know that and I’ve known that for years now. It’s still no excuse for the choices I made that day.”

“I don’t blame you, at all,” Neville admitted. “I-I mean, I did. Then, for a bit. Honestly thought you were a bit selfish, running off the way you did.”

“I run off a lot, don’t I?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Never really been one to share my feelings, hold them all in here,” she pointed to her chest, tapping it a few times. “I’ve been trying to get better about it, took my few years on my own to reflect on that.”

“A bit ironic,” Neville joined in on her laughter. “Reflecting on the fact that you run off a lot while you ran from everything, no?”

“Shove it,” (Y/N) said, kicking Neville’s hand off her ankle. He smiled. “I mean it though, I’m sorry about everything. I was selfish, wasn’t thinking straight. I should’ve given you a chance, considering I was the one who initiated the kiss… both times.”

“Interrupted me both times, too,” Neville hummed. “Another bad habit of yours.”

“I didn’t interrupt you the first time!” (Y/N) scoffed. “I was so relieved that you were alive!” she felt her face heat up again. “But the second time you had said that you… well…”

“Oh,” Neville remembered. “I guess I did say… that.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I think I did,” Neville nodded. “Well, I know I did five years ago. I loved you,” He  said, finally releasing the words the two of them had been avoiding. He let them hang in the air for just a moment. “I did, love you, I mean. For a while. Practically since third year, actually,” the words came sputtering out of Neville like a babbling brook, faster than he could formulate a thought. “You were my best friend. You cared about me, more than anyone else really did. I just assumed you’d never feel that way about me so I shoved it down, especially when you and Seamus started to have that little fling.” 

“I think,” (Y/N) took a second to collect her thoughts. “I’ve always cared for you, Neville. You said so yourself. I guess I never really knew how I felt until I saw you, after all the fighting, saw that you were still alive and breathing,” she shrugged again. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you that day, too.”

“Did you ever…?” Neville couldn’t bring himself to finish his question, the answer almost seemed plain as the day before them.

“I did,” (Y/N) nodded.

“Do you think we could get to that place?” Neville asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his words as fragile as glass. “To be able to love each other at the same time, I mean?” 

“I’m not sure,” (Y/N) admitted, looking Neville in the eye. He looked almost defeated, his face turning down to his hands. “But I think we owe it to ourselves to try,” she leaned forward, gently placing her hand atop of his, the pink ribbon on her wrist tickling his fingers. “Obviously we both had some unresolved tension, if last night was any indication of that.”

“I-I’m not usually that bold—”

“—I know.”

“But you’re right, if we take it slow, start fresh,” Neville nodded, still staring at their hands. “Nurture it properly—”

“Are you comparing the complexity of our relationship to gardening?” (Y/N) laughed, pulling her hand away. Neville shrugged. “Should we make sure it gets enough water, too?”

“I’m trying to be serious here,” Neville said, pointedly. “Don’t have to go and make a joke about it.”

“What’re you going to do?” (Y/N) teased. “Break up with me?” 

“You said so yourself,” Neville stood up, adjusting his shirt. “Can’t break up with someone you’re not dating.”

“Ouch,” (Y/N) pressed a hand to her chest, right above her heart. “That hit me hard, Longbottom. Just annihilated my heart, crushed it to a thousand pieces.”

“Right,” He laughed. “We’ll take it slow,” Neville said again, circling back to their original topic. “I think we can get back to a place of mutual trust and understanding.”

“I agree,” (Y/N) said, finally hopping off Neville’s bed, unaware of the amount of time that had passed. “What does that make of us now, then? Surely we’re not just friends anymore…?”

“No,” Neville mumbled. “I suppose not…”

“And if we’re not ‘dating’,” (Y/N) said, stepping closer to Neville. She flung a finger between the two of them, now standing only a foot away from one another, waving it lightly. “What are we calling this…?”

“That’s a great question,” Neville gulped, now fully aware of the space, or lack thereof, between him and (Y/N). “B-because I have no idea. For now, anyway. If we can make it work, I’d want to ask you proper, not just in the heat of the moment.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t worry about putting a label on it,” (Y/N) said, pressing her finger onto Neville’s chest. “For now.”

“R-right,” Neville nodded, glancing down at (Y/N). “For now.”

“What time is it, anyway?” (Y/N) asked, trying to draw herself away from the situation at hand, fearing she’d dive too far and drown.

“Almost noon,” Neville said, taking a look at his watch, still attached to his wrist. “It’s Sunday, we don’t have any classes.”

“Sunday,” (Y/N) repeated, wracking her brain. “I think I was supposed to do something today…?”

“Funny,” Neville said, standing up. “Me too…?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” (Y/N) said, picking up her shoes. “Well, I better go and clean myself up for lunch, one look at me and the students will think I’ve gone mad.”

“Agreed,” Neville nodded. “I’ll save you a spot at lunch?” A small smile danced across his lips.

“I’d like that,” (Y/N) smiled back, fighting back a bigger grin. She exited Neville’s chambers, moving quickly to her own before anyone could see her. Thankfully the hallway was empty, allowing her to enter the room next door with ease. After a quick change and a simple detangling spell on her unruly hair, (Y/N) was ready for lunch.

The Great Hall was nearly empty, as the end of the lunch period was almost over. Students had gone back to their studying or other activities. The faculty table hosted only a few of her peers, Hagrid booming from the end, sitting next to Neville.

“…was beautiful, the weddin’!” Hagrid said, nearly sobbing into his napkin. “Ginny an’ Harry looked so happy!”

“I know,” Neville said, patting the half-giant’s back. “They looked really happy together.”

“Oh! (Y/N),” Hagrid stopped, noticing the young witch arrive at the table, sitting down next to Neville. “Sorry ya ‘ad to see that,” he sniffled, putting the napkin back onto his lap. “But it’s nice to see the two of you awake!” he glanced between Neville and (Y/N)

“Awake?” (Y/N) laughed, taking a plate of mashed potatoes and a thick red sauce. “You saw us last night, Hagrid, we weren’t sleeping.”

“Ya don’t remember?” Hagrid asked.

“Actually,” Neville said, swallowing a bite of bread quickly. “We don’t exactly remember much from last night…” he turned to (Y/N), noticing her face grow pink. “…from a certain point, that is.”

“Do you know how we got home? Back to the castle?” (Y/N) asked, hoping Hagrid had the answer.

“Well, I carried ya o’ course!” he boomed, laughter echoing throughout the hall. A few remaining students stared idly, wondering what could’ve caused him to laugh so loud. “I was walkin’ outside, ya see. Heard a loud thump from the courtyard,” he took a bite from his apple, leaving only half left. “Found the two of yer sleepin’ in a closet! Must’ve been the punch, ‘ad a few glasses of it myself.”

“We were… sleeping?” 

“On the floor?”

Hagrid nodded. “Figured ya ‘ad too much fun, took it upon meself to bring ya home,” he scratched his neck. “Tried droppin’ Longbottom off first, but,” Hagrid pointed at (Y/N) with his fork. “Ya started wakin’ up. Insisted ya were goin’ to sleep right there.”

“…and you let me?” (Y/N) said, hardly shocked, but her face was telling another story.

“Looked peaceful enough,” Hagrid shrugged. “Sorry ‘bout that mark, Neville. Thestrals accidentally gave ya a good kick."

Neville looked down to the growing purpling mark on his arm, oddly shaped like a horse’s hoof now that he took a better look at it. “At least that makes sense…”

“What doesn’t make sense is why we were knocked out in the broom closet,” (Y/N) said, voice growing low. “We didn’t have any punch and now we can’t remember?”

“Speakin’ of,” Hagrid said, setting his goblet down. “How’d yer meetin’ with McGonagall go?”

“Meeting?” the two said in unison.

“Semester briefing of course!” Hagrid laughed. “Reckon she gave me a nasty look ‘bout those murtlaps escaping, but we ‘ad a good laugh.”

“I don’t remember having a meeting today?” (Y/N) said, setting her fork down. “Neville, do you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Hagrid, do all faculty have this meeting today?”

“Yep,” Hagrid nodded. “Don’t tell me ya lot forgot?”

“Shit,” (Y/N) said, slamming her head onto the table, nearly missing her potatoes. “We’re dead,” she slammed her head again. “So dead.”

Neville reached over, stopping (Y/N) from slamming her head again. “We’re not dead,” he laughed, noticing the red mark now adorned to her forehead. “Royally screwed? Maybe.”

“Why in Merlin’s beard would we have forgotten? I never forget this kind of stuff! Hell, I can remember at least a hundred potions from the top of my head!” She stood up, readjusting her robes. “We have to go and talk to McGonagall.”

“We? But we just started eating…”

“We’ll eat something after we’ve kept our jobs,” (Y/N) said, pulling Neville up by the collar. “Unless you don’t want to keep working here?”

“Right,” Neville said, face determined. “You’re right.”

The two marched out of the dining hall, quickly working their way to the headmistress’ office, giving small greetings to passing students. (Y/N) cleared her throat, mumbling the password to enter the office. The stairs began to move upward, Neville and (Y/N) standing next to one another. “How mad do you think she is?”

“Hopefully not mad enough to sack us, I quite like this job.”

The office, still adorned with portraits of past headmasters lining the walls, was warm and inviting. The faint scent of vanilla wafted through the air, a cauldron burbling in the corner. 

“Professors,” Minerva said, glancing up from her paperwork. “Glad you finally decided to take a break in your busy schedule to show up.”

“Headmistress, we can explain—” 

McGonagall raised her hand, silencing (Y/N) effectively. “No need,” she stood up, walking down the few steps towards the two professors. “Forgetting our meeting isn’t like you, (L/N),” she turned to Neville. “I can’t say the same for you, Longbottom.”

“Normally I’d agree…” Neville sputtered, growing hot at the accusation. “But this wasn’t my doing this time, honest!”

“Minerva, we’re sorry we forgot about our meeting. At the Potter’s wedding last night, Neville and I—”

“—I don’t need the details of your night, Professor (L/N),” McGonagall raised her hand again. “I’m truly disappointed that the two forgot about the meetings. What sort of example are you setting for your students?” The two hung their head in shame. “Thankfully I really have no need to have the meeting with the two of you in the first place.”

“What?”

“(Y/N), your student’s marks are impeccably high, across the board. Even students who were struggling in Potions last year are succeeding in your class, even if it isn’t by a large percentage,” McGonagall turned to Neville. “Your classes, Longbottom, have only gotten the highest praises from students passing in the halls. The two of you should be proud.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Neville said, bowing lightly.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) mirrored.

“Besides the praises,” McGonagall warned, her voice growing more stern. “I shouldn’t have to punish you like students to get the point across. But, for this instance, I feel it to be necessary.”

“Are you going to have us scrub cauldrons? (Y/N) already keeps them sparkling,” Neville asked, his voice growing lower as the Headmistress’s eyes fell upon him.

“Of course not,” McGonagall scoffed. “Cauldron cleaning is left for the Potions Master to dole out for detentions as she sees fit,” she nodded at (Y/N). “But, seeing as the two of you seem to have enough free time in your schedules, you can add Wednesday evenings to your patrol duties. Both of you.”

“Wednesdays were one of our only nights off, Minerva,” (Y/N) blurted, allowing McGonagall’s first name to slip.

“And now they’re not,” McGonagall hummed. “If I remember correctly, you said so yourself, (Y/N), you’ve always wanted to patrol the halls as a professor, any chance you got, no?”

“I—yes,” (Y/N) nodded, caught in her own words. “Of course.”

“Redeem yourselves and the patrols will return to four times a week. Now that the business is out of the way,” McGonagall cleared her throat.

“Longbottom, if I recall you have remedial Herbology with two Hufflepuff students this afternoon, do you not?”

Neville’s face dropped. “You’re right! I completely forgot!” He nearly sprang from his shoes, hoping back to the entrance of the office. “Thank you, Headmistress!” He shot (Y/N) a small smile. “See you tonight, Professor (L/N).”

“That man wouldn’t remember his head if it weren’t screwed onto his neck,” (Y/N) chuckled, heading towards the door.

“(Y/N),” McGonagall said, “I have a feeling there’s something else to discuss?”

“Professor,” (Y/N) said. “Headmistress, I mean. I know this isn’t work related, but I need the advice of another witch.”

“Yes?”

“Last night, at the wedding, Neville and I after a certain point can’t remember anything. We don’t recall getting home, or anything after that. We also couldn’t remember our meetings today…”

“Did you have any of that vile punch?” McGonagall asked, tipping her nose into the air. “Potter said that the Weasley twins had concocted it. Hagrid drank quite a bit of it,” she smiled. “Are you sure your memory loss isn’t from that?”

“That’s the thing,” (Y/N) muttered. “We didn’t have anything to drink, as far as I’m aware."

“And you’re saying that you and Mr. Longbottom can’t recall your memories after a certain point? None, whatsoever?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. We woke up this morning with no recollection of anything after—”

“—after, what?” McGonagall asked, watching (Y/N) grow stiff. “After you and Mr. Longbottom had disappeared from the reception?” She smirked, readjusting her spectacles.

“Yes,” (Y/N) blurted, only slightly ashamed. “A bit after that…”

“Have you considered this to be the work of a memory charm?” McGonagall asked.

“That’s what Neville joked about this morning,” (Y/N) laughed. “N-not that we were together this morning,” she coughed. “I highly doubt that it could be a memory charm. Who would use a memory charm on us?”

“Normally memory charms are used to erase a specific memory,” McGonagall hummed. “But sometimes, when used improperly—or depending on the case—properly, the victim can forget more than the user bargained for.”

“I’m still not following…?”

“I would bet my last Galleon that someone used a memory charm on the two of you,” said McGonagall.

“Really? No joke?”

“No joke.”

“I know this may be a stupid question,” (Y/N) started, her eyes falling on the Pensieve. “But would it be possible—”

“No,” McGonagall said, cutting (Y/N) off. “The Pensieve doesn’t work like that. Once your memory is altered, you cannot call the memories to the Pensieve. Unless the witch or wizard who cast the charm on the two of you reverses it, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do.”

“Surely there must be a way to reverse the charm otherwise, right?” (Y/N) asked, voice dripping with hope. 

McGonagall shook her head. “Unless you’d like to undergo intense torture and suffering, I’m afraid not.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” (Y/N) bowed. “This has been helpful.”

“I hope it has,” McGonagall nodded. “And, (Y/N), please bear in mind what I had said to you on the first night of school.”

(Y/N) recalled the conversation. “Oh, Neville and I…”

“You two look good together,” McGonagall smiled. “But, please keep it professional. Students, they love their gossip."

“Of course, Headmistress,” (Y/N) nodded, finally bursting through the door. “How embarrassing…” she mumbled, walking back to her chambers. 

__

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[bratshaws]

goodness gracious 52. brb x oc

a/n: I'm just winging stuff and hoping for the best. Also, took me fucking 52 chapters to WRITE THIS BUT every feedback is welcome, reblogs or comments!! I'm not a good fic writer l o l

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pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, god this man is so whipped and i am here for it

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51

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-

If Evelyn’s living room,kitchen and balcony were impressive, her bedroom wasn’t far behind. Both Shells and Beatrice, with the latter still holding Wiley in her arms, widened their eyes as they took in the spacious area, the large windows that the dark colored bed was propped against showed more of the beach and residential area, there was a beautiful beige colored chaise lounge near the closet’s doors with pillows in different shades of red. It looked just as comfortable as the bed.

“Alright, now.” Evelyn says, turning her body to the dark mahogany closet doors as Beatrice dropped Wiley down to the bed, “I’ve called a few friends of mine, told them your sizes and they came through with options.” Her closet was so big Beatrice felt she had entered Narnia or something like that, because she had never seen so much space before and the mirror walls made it seem so much bigger. Of course there were her clothes there,but by the end of the closet she could see long dresses covered in clear plastic.

Evelyn stops next to the dresses, doing a show off motion with her hand and grinning sweetly, “Now, Bea your size is on the left and Shells yours is on the right.” the blonde wasted no time in checking every single one with quick movements of her fingers, giggling excitedly. Beatrice turned to her side of the closet, trying to grasp the amount of dresses and colors, she couldn’t even describe the types of dresses there were.

They smelled expensive, she couldn’t explain why but they did. She was scared to touch them, just hovering her hand on the sides of the dresses with her mouth parted in pure wonder. Her eyes traveled to each one, trying to choose and yet worrying she’d rip it or do something wrong with it. Evelyn, noticing her friend’s hesitance, walked closer to her and then pointed to a dark blue one, pulling it out of the rack and its plastic cover “This one I felt it’d be very you.”

Beatrice gasps, dropping her gaze to the mermaid tail bottom of the dress where the dark blue turned into a lighter shade but not light enough that’d be visible from a distance, the sleeves were long and exposed her shoulders with a boat-like neckline, “Oh…it’s so pretty.” she whispers, gently touching the fabric and feeling how soft yet stretchy the fabric was.

“Try it on.” Evelyn says, looking over her shoulder to see Shells’ clothes dumped in the corner and the blonde is looking at herself in the mirror, admiring the silver dress she got on“Shells already did.”

Beatrice paused, licking her lips but then nodding. She didn’t feel embarrassed about getting undressed in front of the girls, she only feared that the dress -while her size- wouldn’t fit her correctly or she’d snag it in some way. Evelyn and Shells were quick to help her out, with her taller friend assuring her the fabric was tear resistant. It hugged her curves much like the black dress she wore at the club, meaning that the chances of Bradley liking it were very high.

The brunette fixed her hair the best way she could before she stepped in front of the mirror to take a look, “Oh, wow.” she loved it, she really loved it. The boat collar showed a bit of cleavage but it wasn’t enough to be indecent and disrespectful and the sleeves were a bit billowy once they reached her wrists, giving her a bit more movement. While the bottom was a mermaid tail, it wasn’t so tight she couldn’t walk, it was actually very comfortable. 

She turned her body this way and that, following the curve of her butt and waist with a smile, “I love this.”

“You look sexy as fuck,babes.” Shells smiles from behind, “Good luck getting Rooster away from you.”

Beatrice laughs, pulling her hair aside to expose more of her neck and shoulders, preferring it like this and keeping it in mind for when the ball happened. “Oh,I don’t really need to do much for him to pay attention.” she says while still admiring herself in the mirror, “He’s very…appreciative of anything I wear.” the two women behind Beatrice shared a look, smirking at their friend’s red cheeks.

“Was that why you took so long replying?” Evelyn asks, crossing her arms with the smirk still present.

“W-Well…I mean, my period stopped yesterday and um…well-”

“He was just enjoying that the Red Sea finally parted.” Shells adds, cackling at Beatrice’s face who turned from light red to vibrant crimson, not meeting her friends’ eyes, “You are the only one I know whose period just stops as if you turned off a faucet. I’m jealous. You get some cramps and then poof it’s gone!”

“But we are very happy for you Bea,” Evelyn said, placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders to look at her reflection, “You look happy and that’s more than enough for us.”

Beatrice’s smile widened as she dipped her head shyly, “I am very happy.” she tells them, running her hands on the dress breathing in deeply, “He’s so wonderful, guys. He really is. I never thought–” her breathing hitches a bit and Evelyn gently rubs her arm to give her some courage, “I never thought I could get a guy like that, not even in movies girls like me get guys like Brad.”

“I think it’s fair to say that the movie industry is anything but real.” Evelyn says with a shrug, “Especially when it comes to…showing relationships and bodies…and ages.”

Shells snorts, “Yeah, teenagers looking like they are fucking forty is still hilarious to me.”

The three girls share a laugh before Beatrice turns to Evelyn and thanks her about the dress, when she asks when she could pick it up Evelyn just says she’s taking it home that day. Both Beatrice and Shells look at their friend like she grew three heads, with the blonde exclaiming she had no money to pay for the dress if it ripped or something similar, but Evelyn just waved her hand, reassuring the two that it’d be fine and they had nothing to worry about.

Easy for her to say, they thought. Even if they were a bit uncertain by what Evelyn said, they removed the dresses to place them inside the clear covers, folding them on their arms after they got dressed. Evelyn’s only advice was to steam them before using it, because it would help if there were creases or folds on the fabric.

Shells walks out of the closet first with Bea and Evelyn close behind, the brunette smiling when Bradley straightens himself on Evelyn’s couch, both men watching a football game and chatting amongst each other. He lowered the arms that were behind his head once he turned, smiling at his girlfriend, “No reveal? I thought we’d get a glimpse of what the dresses looked like.”

“There’s no fun in that,” comes Shells’ reply as she sits down next to Bob, the officer wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her closer, “Besides, isn’t it better to wonder and then finally see if you were right or not?”

Bradley moves his eyes from Shells to Beatrice, who is holding the folded dress in her arms, the dark blue color making his lips curl into a smile. No matter what the dress looked like, he knew she’d look amazing no matter what “It is.” he replies, holding out his hand for Beatrice to grab as she walks around the couch, with him tugging her enough so she’d sit on his lap, the dress resting on the curved arm of Evelyn’s couch. 

She no longer felt embarrassed of Bradley being so very touchy when they were together and there were other people - like their friends - around. She loved that he wanted to be close and touch her at all times, it was a great stroke to her ego. “I think you’ll like it.” she says once Shells,Bob and Evelyn were busy talking amongst themselves “It’s really pretty.”

“Anything you wear is pretty.” he coos, making Bea blush bright red and laugh softly,  avoiding his gaze, “I think it’s because you are pretty.” he leans closer to kiss her under the jaw, smiling when she just hugs his neck to bring him closer to her neck. Of course they wouldn’t go beyond that, but it was still really nice no matter what. 

They chatted for a little while longer until it was time for the two of them to go. They thanked Evelyn again, with Beatrice promising she’d bring it back in one piece and clean even if she didn’t dirt it up. Her friend just chuckles, waving it off because Bea ‘worried too much’. The elevator’s doors close, a voice letting them know they’d be reaching the ground floor in 45 seconds and to enjoy the music in the meantime.

Beatrice looks down at the dress, the clear plastic crinkling as she moves it in her grasp to have a better look, “Her closet is so big.” she says suddenly, “It’s enormous, it’s like another room inside her room.”

Rooster laughs, ‘I can imagine,” but he noticed how Bea’s eyes shone when she spoke about it, “Would you like something like that?”

“I’d love a closet. But…not that big? Just with enough space to put my things, I already don’t have a lot of clothing,” she shrugs with a little smile ”But I’d like something like that, just not so large.”

He hummed in knowledgement, keeping her words in the back of his head as he grabbed her hand so the two could walk out of the elevator. The concierge bid them their goodbyes and the doors parted automatically so they could step out of the building. 

Beatrice very carefully, almost if it was made by the finest porcelain in the world, placed the dress on the backseat of the Bronco, running her hands over the plastic cover and checking if nothing was out of place, “Okay.” she breathes in relief, “Okay, we are good.” but she does look over her shoulder every once in a while once she sits on the passenger seat, making Rooster chuckle in amusement over her worry.

“It’s not going to fly away, you know?”

“I know Roos but,” she looks back again, “But it’s expensive. Evelyn didn’t even say how are we supposed to pay for it? She just told us to get it.”

“Maybe it’s a gift then.” he suggests as he drives them away from the immense building. Beatrice hums, chewing her lower lip before she pulls out her phone,”What are you doing?”

“I’m going to check it with Ev,” she says, waiting for the phone to load the messages app, “And then I…” but she trails off, reading something else entirely. Rooster waits for her to say something but she just keeps looking at her phone, eyes moving as she reads whatever message it was with her mouth repeating the words.

He was worried for a second, thinking it was one of the weird accounts that have been following her on Instagram and figured out how to message her, “Babe?” he questions, flicking his gaze from the road to Beatrice with his brows furrowed, “Bea?” his girlfriend blinks up in surprise, turning her face towards him, “Everything good? What happened?”

“Oh, sorry. Leo just messaged me.” she explains, “Bibi is going on Christmas Break this week and she wants to sleep over.”

“Oh, really?” she nods, “That’s not bad is it?”

Beatrice purses her lips, tapping the pad of her thumb on the side of her phone case, “It’s not, she’s been doing that ever since she was really young but…” but she had to make things ready for the 24th and Bianca being there wouldn’t be wise, she’s too curious and she asks a lot of things, not to mention she’d go to the ball on the 23rd “It’s just because well, it will be only one night…but it’s on the 23rd Brad. We have the ball…and-and we will be pretty busy.”

Bradley takes in her explanation, then he rubs his chin as he thinks about it, “Well, that’s true but…” an idea popped in his brain, it’s a bit crazy but if he talked to Mav…maybe he could figure a way, “She could come with us.” he could hear a pin drop as Beatrice looked up at him, her lips parted in complete surprise, “You can bring kids to the ball.”

But his girlfriend just kept staring, “I-I…” she licks her lips, looking back down at her phone then at him, repeating the pattern for a few more seconds. She tried making the math in her head…how fast could she prepare everything without her niece seeing and asking what she was doing? It’d only be one night! She could figure it out, right? “I-I mean…well, she’s my niece, she’s not really– w-wouldn’t it be weird, Roos? What if they ask me things about who she is?”

“I think people will end up loving her too much to care.” he says honestly and her heart warms up under his words…but she was also freaking out at how easily he said that, “You can ask Leo if that’s okay with him.”

“...right, yeah,I will.” she turns her eyes back to the phone, chewing her lower lip then typing a message to her brother.

Bea (11:42)

Leo, listen, this is a bit weird but…Me and Brad are going to this Naval ball on the 23rd and…if it’s okay with you we can take Bibi so she can still have her sleepover.

Bea (11:42)

IF IT’S OKAY WITH YOU AND CYN I MEAN!!!

Leo (11:45)

Woah, a ball? A Navy ball? Damn that’s some fancy shit, are you…sure it’s a good idea to take Bibi? I mean, is it even legal?

Bea (11:46)

…why wouldn’t it be legal, Leo?

Leo (11:46)

I have no clue! I’m not part of any forces Bea, I don’t know how that works…doesn’t she have to be like, related to Bradley or smth??

Bea (11:48)

He said it’s fine and he’d talk to his godfather in any case…so…

Leo (11:48)

I mean, Cyn is okay with it. I just talked to her…but you know, just make sure? In any case I can tell Bibi you’ll be busy and she’ll see you on the very next day. 

Bea (11:50)

Okay, Leo, thank you. I love you!

Beatrice drops the phone on her lap, breathing in heavily once she’s done typing, “Promise me you’ll talk to Mav?” she asks softly, “Just to be sure? Because if Bibi can’t go, Leo can work things out and check how it could be done.” her boyfriend just gave her a little smile, then brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers before interlacing them together.

“I will baby, don’t worry.”

-

That was one of the first things he wanted to ask Mav once Monday rolled around, they now had lunch together at least once a week so it’d give them time to talk and chat about the most mundane things. But of course this wasn’t mundane, this was something he knew his godfather would have to share his opinion on, “So,” Bradley begins, after chewing the last bites of his pizza, “I have a question.” Pete looks up from his drink to his nephew, arching his eyebrow, “Would it be okay…to bring a kid to the ball?”

That got his attention immediately, he could see his godfather’s eyes widen and the question already making it’s way out of his mouth “Bea isn’t pregnant.” he cuts quickly, even if it hurts part of him to say it but…too soon, too soon. Let them move in together first then talk about that. 

“Oh,” Mav’s shoulders dropped and he tried to cover his disappointed face the best he could, “Oh then,well, whose kid is it?”

“Her niece, who’s just the cutest thing ever. She wants to sleepover on the 23rd so we can go together to her parents’ celebration on the 24th.” he pulls out his phone, swiping in the gallery to find the picture of Beatrice and Bibi at the wedding, the one he took when she wasn’t looking and the little girl just climbed on her lap at the first hours of dinner, “Here,”

Pete wiped his hands clean before grabbing the phone, his mouth slowly curving into a smile, “Oh, she’s precious.” he chuckles, returning the device to his nephew, “I don’t think there’s any problem, there will be other kids there.” he shrugs, “So why not?”

Bradley heaves out a sigh of relief, chuckling to himself, “I don’t know, it’s not like she’s my kid.” He doesn't meet his godfather’s eyes when he says it, “I thought it’d be weird, maybe?”

“Well, this is more of a celebration ball than anything, Rooster.” Mav begins,folding the napkin in his hands “Not to mention there will be other people with kids there, so I don’t see any issue about you bringing her. And if you want, you can leave her in the kids area so you and Bea can enjoy some time together.”

His godson’s cheeks flush just a bit, which made him smile because he just seemed so happy whenever Beatrice was mentioned. Back when he found out about his crush on Beatrice at the beach he could just see how much she meant to him, how much he wanted to make a move but was always nervous to.

And now that they were a thing it just warmed his heart because Bradley…had been through a lot and he deserved something good to happen to him. Their relationship got rocky at points, several times in fact, but he was very happy Rooster felt safe enough to share things with him especially when it came to Beatrice. “I know she won’t mind.” the younger pilot says, setting his phone aside “But you know, I just wanted to make sure. Even for her own brother to know.”

“Of course. But really, it’ll be fine.” Mav says, his shoulders expanding when he breathes in, “He would’ve liked to know there’d be children there.”

“Yeah….I guess so.” Bradley says gently, leaning back on his seat to run his hands through his hair, feeling a lot lighter than he was before with his body relaxing, “I need to tell Bea. Just to let her know.”

“Go ahead,” Pete says, grabbing the trash from both of their sides, “I’ll toss this away. Tell her hi for me.” his godson nodded with a smile, quickly typing on his phone. He knew it was still early for her therapy session, so she was probably home right now if not taking Jolene on a walk.

He pressed the phone to his ear, hearing it ring for a few seconds before her voice appeared with a sweet ‘hi Roos!’ “Hi, baby,” his own voice drops to a sticky sweet tone he barely notices, walking to a quieter side of the cafeteria to have the conversation, “How are you? What have you been doing?”

“Oh I’m fine! I’m just cleaning some stuff,”he could hear the sound of something metallic being moved about, followed by the sound of a zipper opening, “Before I go to therapy so I won’t forget. How are you though? How’s your day going?”

He leans his shoulder against the wall, his smile widening, “Been great, even better now that I’m talking to you.” she giggles over the phone, still messing with stuff on her side. “It’s true, it’s the best part of my day.”

“I’m glad I can help you out with that,Roos.”

“Always, angel. But, the reason I called was that I talked to Pete and he said it’s fine to bring Bibi.” he explains, digging his hand in his pants pocket, looking over his shoulder to where Pete was on the phone as well, probably talking to Penny, “So if you want to tell Leo about that, you can. Oh, and he also said hi.”

It takes a second for her to reply, soon after she inhales deeply, “I will let him know, yeah. I mean, as long there’ll be no trouble because she’s there I’m okay. She can be a bit…of a wild thing but she can behave if she stays with me…and tell Pete I said hi back!”

“You are her favorite aunt.” Bea laughs, no doubt shaking her head when he says it, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Ah,well…Bibi was also a preemie so, I guess we connected that way. Plus when she was born Leo and Cyn were still finishing their house so they’d stay with my parents when I still lived there. Bibi always liked to come to my room as soon as she learned how to walk and spend time there.” she laughs sweetly, a door closing in the background, “And maybe, I mean, this comes from Cynthia but she told me she might ask for Jolene to spend Christmas with them.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s been asking for a dog for months. So my theory is that if Jolene stays with them for the Christmas night and then morning, they’ll see a dog isn’t so bad…but Jolene is also a good dog that has the chillest personality I’ve ever seen.”

“You said yes then?”

“I did, mostly because…well it’s not for long and Jolene doesn’t mind as you well know. She loves Bibi and knows I’ll come back for her.” Beatrice moves something in the background, then fills it with liquid - probably a glass “Also, she visited them before when she was a puppy, she likes them.”

Bradley hums, still leaning against the wall as she speaks, “Well, I mean, I’ll miss that giant bean of a dog.” she laughs on the other side, “It’s true, I’m used to her and she’s used to me. And you know I love dogs.”

“Aw, I know Brad. You are just too sweet,amore mio.”

He stills, blinking at the sudden nickname, one he had never heard before, “...what did you call me?”

“..a-amore mio?It’s Italian for my love.”

Bradley inhaled sharply, his whole body seeming to react because of her simple usage of a sweet Italian nickname. His cheeks felt hot, hotter than they ever felt before and he was glad he was leaning against the wall because he felt like he’d fall if there wasn’t any support, “I…” he licks his lips, still processing what she said, “...I really like that.”

“You do?”

“It’s not often I hear you speak in Italian.” 

“Oh…”she paused for a second, “Well…se ti piace, parlo italiano più spesso, Brad.”

Jesus Christ. 

He’s not okay. 

“I…” he feels his throat tighten, like there are cotton balls inside, preventing him from speaking. “It’s…I have no idea what you just said but it sounds really fucking hot when you speak.” Beatrice laughs sweetly on the other side and Bradley almost pushes himself even more against the wall, lowering his voice so only they could know what was happening.

“Hm, I’ll keep that in mind.” she says innocently, “Maybe I’ll come up with more stuff since you liked it so much…but I have to get ready for therapy, Brad.”

He tried to not sound disappointed, especially after that, but he knew that was what she always did during Mondays, “Okay, baby. Have a good session, okay? Send me a message when you are done. I love you.”

“I will! Ti amo anch'io amore mio, bye!” She finishes the call with a kissing sound before she hangs up and Bradley has to mentally prepare himself as he lowers the phone. He feels like he’s on fire, he had no idea that Beatrice speaking another language would have that effect on him…well that and because of her voice. 

He rubbed a hand over his face then ran the fingers through his hair, rolling his shoulders as he tried to get just a smidge of dignity and hide the fact his girlfriend turned him on by speaking Italian. Bradley slips his phone back in his pocket, giving himself an once over and checking if everything was still the same as before, then turns on his heel to walk back towards Pete who had just finished his call.

The older pilot squinted his eyes at his godson’s flushed complexion, “Everything okay?” Bradley nods, clearing his throat and not desiring to elaborate more than that. Mav just chuckled in amusement, tapping him on the shoulder,”Alright. Come on, time to go back.”

[hqamore]

boreal star ✵ chapter two

kirigan wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t care for appearance and reputation. he supposed he would have to tiptoe around you until you showed your cards. until then, he’d have you play new recruit.

series genre: romance & angst

series pairing: [past?] general kirigan (the darkling/aleksander) x reader

word count: 1.7k

warning: slight suggestive theme (mentioned in passing)

note: wow. i’m absolutely astonished with the enthusiasm the first chapter had. thank you guys so much! i have two exams next week so i’m not entirely sure if i’ll be able to update. i will try my best :)

here’s the masterlist

“here’s your room.” aleksander gestured to a room that was vaguely familiar.

brows furrowed, you turned to him. “your room is next to this one.”

his eyes rounded in mock innocence. “really? i hadn’t noticed.”

your nose crinkled in distaste as you glimpsed down the hall. “what of my old bedroom?”

“someone else is staying in there,” his arms folded across his chest. “alina starkov, the sun summoner.”

“oh? it’s to be expected, i suppose,” you bobbed your head, stepping to explore the room. “why create another staged cage when you already have one ready?”

“what?”

you observed the flowers by the bedside and plucked one out to tuck it behind your ear. “you like to give your prized cattle the very best so they may feel important, no? it makes it so much easier to subdue them.”

“what? prized cattle? alina’s not— you were never—”

while he wrestled for a response, you continued to inspect the room before happening upon a locked door. “where does this door lead to?”

“my room,” aleksander cleared his throat, recovering from your accusations.

you froze, your hands twitching, before you tore away from the door. “your room?”

“my bedroom, specifically,” he clarified. in that moment, he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“why would anyone want to have a room connected to yours?”

looking into a mirror, aleksander fixed his appearance. “well, i assume these rooms were designed with my future lover in mind,” he replied.

bitterness rang throughout your body as you barked out a laugh. “your lover? to think you wouldn’t jump at the chance to house your precious sun summoner here. what? was there a snag in your plan to seduce her? a boyfriend back home?”

at his silent admission, your jaw dropped. then, genuine laughter erupted from you, causing you to lean on the bedpost. your knees nearly gave in until you saw his glare. you took deep breaths and tried to stifle your amusement behind your hand.

“i’m sorry. it’s rude to laugh,” you surrendered. while your giggles subdued, he remained silent. aleksander’s reflection was eerily still, his eyes far away from reality. when you stepped towards him, he broke from his stupor and made for the door.

“rest up. you have a full day ahead of you tomorrow.” he began closing the door when he paused just before it shut. “goodnight, [y/n].”

well, that was odd.

✵✵✵

with the sun high in the sky, aleksander walked with you to the training grounds.

“do all new recruits get escorted by you or is this arrangement special?” you walked beside him with your hands linked in front of you. you sported your new deep blue kefta with white detailing.

“i can’t risk you disrupting alina’s training with your spitefulness. whatever i may or may not be planning for her, she’s still ravka’s only hope of banishing the fold,” he said. “my accompanying you is a precaution as well as your formal introduction to the second army.”

as you approached your destination, you spotted multiple grisha huddled in a ring. two of them were fighting in the middle.

“you teach them physical combat now?”

“you’d be surprised how often we lose grisha to drüskelle because they’ve tied their hands. they cannot always rely on their powers,” he droned.

off to the side, you spotted a burly man. “you have a shu training them?”

aleksander looked down at you, “he used to be a mercenary. i think you’ll find him adequate.”

“i think you’ll find i’m already above your training,” you whispered as everyone turned their attention to you or, rather, aleksander.

the shu made his way over and bowed, “general kirigan, i had no idea you would be joining us today.”

you see a girl peek her head out from the corner of your eye, her face lighting up at the darkling’s entrance.

alina starkov. i see she already holds some sort of affection for him.

the general raised his hand, “please, botkin. i am only here to introduce everyone to our newest member, [y/n]. they’re a gravity summoner.”

at the sound of your name, you reverted your attention to the crowd and gave a small smile. placing a hand on the small of your back, aleksander guided you to the center. 

“actually, i was hoping you could evaluate their combat skills.”

you whipped your head around, staring at him incredulously. he didn’t change his diplomatic smile when he met your eyes.

“that is no problem, general.” botkin faced you and gestured to the crowd. “please, choose your opponent.”

your eyes scanned the crowd before you smirked inwardly. “if it’s no trouble to the general, i would like to fight him,” you requested. “i’ve only ever heard how powerful general kirigan is and, well, if he is the standard…”

the grisha around you looked at you as if you were insane. you peeked through your lashes at aleksander whose eye was ever so slightly twitching. before botkin could voice his disapproval, aleksander shrugged his kefta off.

“why not? i can’t remember the last time someone challenged me so bravely.”

you grinned as you threw off your own kefta. out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun summoner pushing her way into the circle with a dazzled look. botkin warily lifted his hand. “no using your powers. only your fists and wits.”

you nodded and took an offensive position. botkin threw his hand down, “fight!”

you dropped down, doing a low spinning kick, and swept aleksander off his feet. he landed on his back with shock evident on his face. you then pressed your knee onto his diaphragm and gripped his sleeve. grinning, you gave him a cheeky smile.

“i don’t think i’ve ever had you on your back,” you said in a hushed voice.

with annoyance written on his face, he grabbed the lapel of your shirt and pulled you off him. he trapped your arms by your sides as he straddled you.

“because you always liked it when i was in control,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. you thrusted your left hip up, effectively throwing him off balance and freeing you. you both scrambled to stand. aleksander crept closer to you and threw a punch. before his fist made contact, you blocked it and gripped his arm. you threw him over your shoulder and stepped on his shoulder joint. he groaned under the pressure when you leaned down.

“it’s a good thing i came to my senses then,” you said. “yield.”

he narrowed his eyes before you shifted your weight onto your foot. with the discomfort and pain rising, he quickly tapped your calf. you moved off him and offered a hand. he begrudgingly took it, allowing you to pull him up. the grisha stared with open mouths. you sheepishly smiled and hurriedly put your hands behind your back.

“i apologize, general kirigan. it seems i didn’t know my own strength,” you said in deceiving shyness.

he smiled tensely and slipped his kefta back on. “no, i am glad you are so advanced. it makes it all the more assuring that you are with us for the war effort.”

you bowed your head and brushed the dirt off your kefta, shrugging it back on. without another word, he left, alina following in his wake.

botkin clapped his hand on your shoulder. “you are an impressive fighter. where did you learn?”

“shu han. i lived there until hearing about the sun summoner.”

the man looked surprised before nodding. “your fighting style did appear familiar.” after that, he left you to be greeted by the others.

they were mostly friendly, some talking nonstop about how you defeated general kirigan. you just brushed it off as him going easy on a new recruit. you noticed another girl, a squaller judging by her kefta, glaring at you before stalking off.

“don’t worry about her,” a voice said. you turned to see none other than alina starkov herself. “apparently, she hates anyone that’s a threat to her spot as general kirigan’s favorite.”

“she must be delusional because there was nothing about that interaction that hinted at favoritism,” you snorted as you held a hand out. “[y/n].”

“i heard. i’m alina starkov.” she shook your hand with a bright smile. “it’s nice not to be the only new person.”

you returned her smile, “it all does feel rather isolating, doesn’t it?”

she laughed and nodded. “my friend, mal, and i never really liked grisha. they acted like they were the elite.”

ah, is mal the boyfriend?

“if i’m honest, i don’t like them either. i actually ran from ravka when i found out i was grisha,” you said honestly. “i guess i couldn’t run far enough.”

her eyebrows lifted, “oh? where did you run?”

“shu han. a nice place once the villagers get to know you.”

she tilted her head with confusion etching her face. “don’t they, you know, kill grisha?”

you scrunched your nose, “not as much on the outskirts. but, it gave me more reasons to hide my powers.”

“does that mean you’ll have to take lessons with baghra too?”

your shoulders tensed at the mention of the older grisha. you put on a grimacing smile, “i suppose so.”

oh, baghra’s going to kill me when she sees me.

with knowing eyes, alina grabbed your hands. “don’t worry. she’s a bit mean, but she does help you control your powers. 100% success rate, i hear.”

you nodded, patting alina’s hands, before withdrawing yours to your sides.

“alina!” two girls called. they waved their hands to usher her over.

alina looked at you apologetically. “sorry, i’ve got to go. lessons with baghra, actually.”

you sent her off with a wave. “it’s fine. it’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

she grinned, “right. i’d really like to be your friend, [y/n].”

you couldn’t help but soften at her words. “we already are, alina.”

her grin grew wider before she departed with her other friends, leaving you with your thoughts.

so full of life, that one. no wonder aleksander’s drawn to her. the brighter the light, the darker the shadows. let’s just hope he doesn’t snuff her out.

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continue to chapter three? yes

[thebookreader12345]

Identity Loss - Chapter One

Chapter Two     Chapter Three

What was that saying? Something about best friends being the best kind of lovers? Well, whatever it was, it was true. Best friends are the best kind of boyfriends. And I would know seeing as that just so happened to be the situation I was in. Will Halstead started off as my best friend, but as the years flew by, we fell in love. Maybe it was because we worked countless shifts together in the ED. Or perhaps it was because we spent too many nights at Molly’s where we were tipsy enough to share personal secrets and fears. It could also be a combination of both, plus many other factors. Will was my rock and I was his. We never kept secrets from each other, and because of that, we had complete trust in our relationship. And now, we were going to be getting married at the end of the year. But this is where things get rocky. So hold onto your seats, because this is going to be the love story of the century.

I stared at the glittering ring on my finger, admiring the way it caught the lights in the ED. Recently, whenever I had a small break, no matter how little time I had, I always seemed to spend it staring at the ring that now sat on my finger. The engagement ring belonged to Will’s mother who had passed away before I knew him. She left her ring to her sons, Will and Jay, and said that whoever was to be married first could use it. That’s how it ended up on my finger. I had never met Mrs. Halstead, but based on how Will turned out, and Jay as well, she must’ve been one incredible woman.

“Staring at that ring again?” Maggie asked, which broke me out of my daze. I glanced up at the charge nurse clad in her blue scrubs, which oddly matched pretty well with my maroon ones, and smiled.

“I can’t help it Mags. It just draws my attention,” I claim.

Maggie laughed softly and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think it’s the ring that draws your attention. I think it’s the man who gave it to you.”

“Will might be a contributing factor,” I admit.

“Speaking of the ginger-haired devil,” Maggie said and nodded behind me. I turned around to see my fiance exiting the elevator, and as soon as he met my gaze, a large grin appeared on his face. Will then made his way over to me, dodging the doctors, nurses, and patients in his path, and when he reached his destination, he leaned down to brush his lips against mine.

“There you are. I was looking for you up in cardiology, but Connor said you came back down here,” Will spoke.

“Yeah. My patient ended up having a cardio problem, Heart Valve Disease, so I passed him off to Connor and figured I’d come back down to snag another case. But so far it’s been a pretty boring day,” I explain.

“I think I can fix that. Come on,” Will told me and began to drag me down the hall.

“Will, where are we going?” I question as Will and I entered the elevator.

“You’ll see,” Will responded and pressed the button for the 4th floor. What the hell was on the 4th floor? The elevator ride only took a few seconds, and when the doors opened, I was met by darkness. When my eyes finally adjusted to what was in front of me, I realized where we were.

“This is the old orthopedics wing. What are we doing up here? It’s empty,” I point out and step off of the elevator with Will right behind me.

“That’s kind of the point,” Will disclosed and laced his fingers with mine before leading me down another hallway and into an empty patient room. The orthopedics wing was being transferred to another floor, so at the moment, this one was empty. Everything on the floor was pretty much intact, including the rooms, because construction hadn’t started yet. As soon as we entered the patient room, Will leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I melted into the kiss, my body instinctively bringing itself close to Will’s. As the kiss deepened, Will guided me towards the bed, and when the back of my thighs touched the sheets, I realized what Will was insinuating.

“You want to have sex in here?” I ask and look around while Will gripped onto my waist tightly and placed kisses along my neck.

“Yeah. Why not. Now, it feels like I haven’t touched you in days, so...” Will trailed off as his kisses became more fervent. I chuckled softly as I fell down onto the bed, my back hitting the cheap, cotton sheets. Will hovered over me, his lips attacking mine once again, and his hands slid under my scrub top, running over the skin on my sides. I pushed Will off of me for a second giving me enough time to sit up and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side. Will grinned and leaned back down, but before he could reach my lips, I tugged him down onto the bed, and his body fell on top of mine. With our bodies pressed chest to chest, there was no room between us. I ran my hand over the hem of Will’s scrub top, and after I lifted it about an inch, Will got the idea and took it off, throwing it somewhere in the room. I smashed my lips to Will’s, enjoying the feeling of his mouth moving in sync with mine. My hands moved up Will’s back, my nails digging into his shoulder blades when he bit my bottom lip. Will then stopped kissing my lips and went down to my neck, nibbling at a spot that he knew was sensitive for me. My fingers tangled themselves in Will’s curly locks as I arched my back in pleasure, a slight moan leaving my lips as Will sucked at the same sensitive spot.

“Will,” I breathe out.

“Mmm,” Will hummed against my skin. 

“If you leave a hickey, I’m going to kill you,” I mumble.

Will laughed and glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. “I thought you took an oath?”

“An oath that only applies to patients,” I clarify. 

“You made this go dark so fast,” Will said as I pushed him off of my body and onto the open space next to me. I then climbed on top of him and straddled his waist, placing my hands on his chest.

“And you proposed to me anyways,” I mention.

“That I did,” Will countered and placed his hands on my hips, caressing my bare skin. I laughed and leaned down to kiss him again, but just before our lips could meet, both me and Will’s pagers beeped. Will groaned as I rolled off of him and pulled his phone from his pants pocket. I did the same, and when I saw the page that there was a huge trauma coming to the ED, I hopped off the bed and retrieved my shirt from the floor. Will grabbed his shirt as well, and once both of us were fully clothed and looked like he weren’t just about to have sex, we rushed down to the ED.

“What do we got, Mags?” I question.

“Peds vs. Auto. Y/N, I want you on the driver, Mr. Wilson. He’s in Treatment Room 2. And Will, the victim is coming in now,” Maggie informed us as the paramedics entered the lobby.

“See you in a bit,” Will murmured and pecked my lips before heading towards his patient. As Will disappeared into Trauma Room 1, I slipped on some gloves and made my way to the man I was supposed to be treating.

“Mr. Wilson, I’m Dr. L/N,” I greet the man sitting on the bed. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I was just trying to get home when that idiot walked into the intersection,” Mr. Wilson answered. “And I had the damn light!”

“All right. It looks like you hit your head on the steering wheel when you slammed your breaks. Did you lose consciousness at all?” I ask and examine the cut on his forehead.

“No,” Mr. Wilson replied.

“Other than that cut, I’m not seeing any injuries. I’m going to get someone in here to stitch that up for you, and then we’ve just got to run a few tests before we can discharge you,” I disclose and throw the latex gloves I was wearing into the garbage can.

“Tests? What kind of tests?” Mr. Wilson quizzed.

“We’ve just got to run a tox screen and do some blood work. It’s standard protocol for car accidents like these. And then we also have to get the police down here to take your statement to clear you of any charges. Don’t worry,” I assure him. “You’ll be out of here in an hour, two tops.”

Mr. Wilson sighed, but nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” About an hour later, I got Mr. Wilson’s lab work back, and everything looked clear, so now I was heading back to his room to discuss next steps and discharge papers.

“Good news, Mr. Wilson. Your labs are all clear. There was no alcohol or drugs in your system,” I declare and shut the curtain leading to his room. “And I got word that an officer is heading over now to take your statement, so you should be out of here within the hour.”

“You need to call the police off. Now!” Mr. Wilson demanded.

“I’m sorry?” I question and set my tablet down.

“I’m not going to talk to the police. So call them off,” Mr. Wilson ordered and climbed out of bed. It suddenly dawned on me what was going on here. Mr. Wilson didn’t want to talk to the police because he would probably be found guilty of some crime. That’s why he was rushing home, and why he either didn’t stop at a red light, or didn’t pay attention to what was in front of him, causing the accident. The man in front of me was a criminal, and I was stuck in a tiny room with him.

“Mr. Wilson, it’s protocol that I call the police, and they’re already on their way so-”

Mr. Wilson cut me off. “I don’t give a damn about protocol! You call them off right now!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” I exclaim. Mr. Wilson growled, and before I could react, he rushed forward and tackled me to the floor. My head slammed into the ground, which caused a wave of pain to roll over me, and I also fell onto my arm, so a throbbing sensation arose there as well. “Help! Someone help!” Then, suddenly, I couldn’t breathe, and I realized it was because Mr. Wilson had his hands wrapped around my throat. I struggled under his weight and attempted to pry his hands off of my neck, but it was no use. I even kicked and fought, but nothing I did helped me. The last thing I remember before passing out from lack of oxygen was someone restraining Mr. Wilson, and Will’s worried face hovering above me.

......................................

I woke up with a pounding in the back of my head that wouldn’t seem to go away. The throbbing continued as I opened my eyes, but as the light hit my pupils, the headache worsened. I groaned and closed my eyes, hoping that pain would stop after a few seconds, but that didn’t seem to be the case because I was still hurting. I opened my eyes once more, starting at a squint, and once I was comfortable with the bright beams raining down on me, I opened them fully. Upon looking around, a thought arose in my brain. Where the hell was I? I could tell that I was in a hospital room based on the equipment around and because I had a sling holding up my left arm, but I didn’t know which hospital or how I had gotten here. That’s when a handsome, red-headed doctor entered the room, and when he saw that I was awake, a small smile broke out on his face.

“Hey. I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?” the man asked.

“I’m feeling okay. Where am I?” I question.

The doctor laughed, but when he saw that I wasn’t joking, he frowned. “Y/N, you’re at Chicago Med. Don’t you remember what happened?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea how I ended up here, nor do I know what Chicago Med is.”

“But you remember me, don’t you?” the man quizzed and took ahold of my right hand. I hesitated for a moment because I felt like I should know him, but nothing jumped out at me. Not even his name. But I got that from his doctor’s coat, which read William Halstead.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I don’t know who you are. I uh, I can’t remember anything.”

...............................................

That’s the end of the first chapter! Comment down below what you guys think!

________________________

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[buoyantsaturn]

there’s something precious about this (something so wretched about this) (3/?)

summary: the truth about Nico’s fiance comes to light

word count: 3,306

read on ao3 | read chapter one

Nico had been given a few novels’ worth of documents to read before the next meeting with his advisors. Proposals created by his advisors, treaties and trade deals with neighboring kingdoms. 

It was all horribly boring, but when Nico had gone to Will for a distraction, Will had grabbed his own book - some medical text he’d been studying - and dragged Nico outside. Will sat down against the trunk of a tree in the castle’s courtyard and pulled Nico down with him, laying Nico’s head against his chest. Will kept Nico in place with an arm across his chest, his hand keeping his book propped up on his lap. 

The proposals were still mind-numbing, but being bored out of his mind was a little bit more bearable with Will beside him. Still, he found himself starting to fall asleep not even a quarter of the way through his assigned readings. He only shook himself awake when he heard someone approaching them until there was a shadow covering the page his eyes were skimming over. 

Nico glanced up, shading his eyes from the sun as he recognized Reyna, one of the highest ranking members of the royal guard, standing above him. 

“The council would like a word with you,” she told him plainly.

Nico held up his still unfinished readings. “I haven’t finished with this yet. I told them I’d arrange a meeting once I was ready.” 

“That’s not what they intend to talk about,” Reyna informed him. “Would you quit being such a pain and follow me?” 

Nico pouted. “You can’t speak to the king like that.”

“What are you going to do,” Reyna asked blandly, “behead me?”

Nico huffed, and tipped his head back to say to Will, “I’ll find you again later. Let me up, would you?” 

Will pulled his arm away, giving Nico’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before Reyna pulled Nico to his feet. 

She led him into the castle, into the private meeting room where Nico’s council of advisors were waiting for him. Nico was sure to make his annoyance clear as he crossed the room and dropped into his usual seat at the head of the table, dropping his unread stack of papers on the table in front of him. “Could this not have waited until I had finished my readings?” 

“This matter is more important at the moment,” Lord Thanatos informed him.

Lord Minos cleared his throat. “You still have yet to introduce us to your fiance.” 

Nico choked. “Do I have to?”

“Obviously we will need to meet with your fiance in order to plan the wedding and send out the invitations--”

“Fine,” Nico cut in quickly. “Arrange a dinner for tonight, and I’ll make the introductions there.” He pushed his chair back, planting his hands on the table as he rose to his feet. “May I return to my work now?”

“One more thing,” Minos added, raising a single finger in Nico’s direction in a way that made Nico want to cut his hand off with a sword. “We can only assume that you have been spending time with your fiance unchaperoned. You must know that there is a certain image of the kingdom that we must maintain, and in order to keep that image intact, it would be best that you not be caught doing anything...unsavory with your fiance.” 

Nico felt himself flush, at the fact that his advisor would say such a thing aloud, and at the sudden, unapproved thought that passed through his mind of doing unsavory things with Will. “Are you going to tell me that, once the introductions are made, I won’t be allowed to spend any time with my own fiance?” 

“Of course not,” Lord Thanatos assured him. “You won’t be allowed to spend any time alone with her. Reyna has already agreed to acting as your chaperone until further notice - she is to keep you from behind like anything other than a royal, and prevent you from soiling your fiance before the wedding.” 

If Nico wasn’t bright red before, he surely resembled a ripe tomato now. “If that’s everything?” he said through gritted teeth. 

The advisors exchanged looks, as if double checking that they’d covered every topic, and then nodded. “You are dismissed,” Thanatos told him, and Nico didn’t hesitate to swipe his papers off the table and bolt from the room. 

Reyna kept up with him, always remaining a few steps behind, as though she was his shadow. As Nico threw open the exterior doors, attempting to return to the courtyard, Reyna stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t you think you should inform your fiance of tonight’s dinner before you return to your work?”

“Let me worry about my own affairs,” Nico snapped, and pushed open the doors. 

Will was sitting exactly where Nico had left him. Nico didn’t hesitate to sit down beside him once again, leaning into his side as if he’d never left. 

“That was quick,” Will commented, lifting an arm to wrap around Nico’s chest once more, allowing him to fully settle in.

“It would have been easier for them to have had Reyna pass a message along,” Nico grumbled, turning his focus back to the papers in his hands, shuffling them as he tried to remember where he left off. “Oh, by the way. There’s going to be a dinner in the grand dining room this evening. You’re invited.” 

“I am?” Will asked, finally lifting his gaze from his medical texts. He spotted Reyna standing a short distance away, at attention, as if guarding the area - though her eyes tended to stick to Nico more often than their surroundings. “Um. Why is Reyna still here?” 

Nico groaned and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been given a chaperone. She’s supposed to keep me from doing anything unsavory with my fiance.”

Will pressed his lips together, though that wasn’t enough to rein in his laughter. “Unsavory, really? What sorts of things do they think you’re doing with this mysterious fiance of yours, in your very limited free time?”

Nico hummed. “They probably wouldn’t be happy about this position we’re laying in, first of all. Second, they likely wouldn’t approve of the murder scene they’ll find if you don’t stop laughing at me.” 

Will nodded. “You’re right. Murder is just as unsavory as whatever the council thought we were getting up to.”

Nico had gone to change before dinner, knowing the council as a whole would scold him as a parent would a child if he showed up with grass stains on his clothes. He had made Will promise to change into something a bit dressier as well, though Nico had no intentions of breaking out his most formal clothes for a simple business dinner. 

Because that’s all this was, really. Nico’s life had become a tool for the council to use in order to make better deals with neighboring kingdoms. Deep down, he’d always known that would happen, but he’d also assumed that being king would give him at least a bit of power.

Whatever. At least he would feel some control once he had the chance to introduce Will as his fiance. He smiled to himself in the mirror after he’d finished being dressed for dinner, thinking about the looks on each of his advisor’s faces as he brought a man with him to dinner. He suddenly found that he was more excited than anything else. 

Reyna cleared her throat from the doorway, and Nico turned to look at her. “His Majesty seems to be forgetting something,” she commented. 

Nico glanced down at himself - he was fully dressed, decently accessorized. He was wearing the skull-shaped ring that had been pried off his father’s cold finger after his death and had been passed on to Nico as a symbol of the shift in power. His hair had even been pulled back and out of his face, so Nico couldn’t imagine what he could possibly be forgetting.

“Have you forgotten your fiance so quickly?” Reyna asked when Nico only looked at her in confusion. “How will she know to attend tonight’s dinner if you never bothered to tell her?” 

Nico grinned, which seemed to throw Reyna off slightly, which only brightened his smile. He added another face to his list of ones to watch when he made the introductions that evening. “My fiance will be there,” he assured her, and moved past her to leave the room.

He took his time walking to the dining room, knowing he was a bit ahead of schedule, though as he paused outside the doors, servants and lesser nobles alike kept trying to usher him inside.

“No, thank you,” Nico told them each and every time, “I’ll wait here for my fiance.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before he saw Will rushing into the castle, tripping over his own feet and struggling to button the last few buttons on his shirt as he moved. He had changed from the clothes he’d been wearing earlier in the day, though what he was wearing now was barely a step up in formality. Still, at least his shirt was collared and his pants were without rips or snags. 

Nico grinned the second he laid eyes on him, and as soon as Will looked back, he smiled as well. “Hi,” Will said, sounding out of breath as he approached, still fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Sorry, I got caught up in reading, and I lost track of time, and-- This stupid button--” 

Nico stepped closer, swatting Will’s hands away as he did, and carefully slipped the button into place. “You’re here now,” Nico told him, straightening the collar of Will’s shirt after he finished with the button, “and that’s what’s important.” Will beamed, and Nico felt warm all the way down to his toes. He suddenly felt himself thrumming with the urge to do something stupid, so he channeled that energy into doing something not quite as stupid as he could have, and he reached up to fix Will’s hair.

He cleared his throat and took a step back, eyeing Will from head to toe, nodding in satisfaction before he said, “You didn’t have any other shoes?” 

Will tilted his head in confusion, frowning down at his shoes. “What’s wrong with my shoes?” 

“Nothing,” Nico answered quickly. “Shall we go in?” 

Will took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then offered Nico his arm. As Nico set his hand in the crook of Will’s arm, he said, “Remind me sometime to contact the royal tailor.” 

“Huh?” Will asked, and then nodded when the words seemed to process. “Yeah, alright.” He led Nico toward the doors, and they paused as a pair of servants pulled the doors open for them.

“Maybe the cobbler, too,” Nico added quickly, and Will started to nod before Nico’s meaning caught up to him, and he made an indignant sound before Nico elbowed him in the side. 

A servant announced their presence as they entered, and Nico felt all eyes turn toward him - half of the nobles in the room had heard that Nico was waiting to enter with his fiance, and he had no doubt that word had spread to the rest of them. 

“His Majesty, King Nico of Angelos,” the servant announced, rather unnecessarily, in Nico’s opinion, “and William, the court physician’s assistant.” 

Nico felt Will tense under his hand, and he seemed to shrink under the attention - or maybe he felt ashamed by his lack of proper title. After all, Nico was one of the only people in the kingdom that knew Will’s true parentage.

“William of Solace,” Nico corrected, remembering the way that Will had introduced himself when they were children, and he saw Will perk up again beside him. It wasn’t his true title, though Nico hadn’t learned until a few years down the line that Will was actually the runaway son of Duke Apollo of Delos. Will had always preferred his mother’s home of Solace over his father’s Delos, anyway.

Nico led Will across the room to the head of the table, where a seat had been left empty for Nico’s fiance, at his request. Nico pulled the chair out for Will to sit, and push it in for him as well to help him get settled. In a moment of boldness, Nico reached down and lifted Will’s hand off the arm of the chair and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before giving the hand a comforting squeeze.

He stepped away to his own chair, though before he sat down, Nico said, “I’d like to introduce you all to my fiance, William of Solace.”

There was silence throughout the room as Nico took his seat, only breaking when Nico reached for his cup to find it empty and said over his shoulder to the nearest servant, “May we have some wine, please?”

The room around them erupted in loud complaints from Nico’s advisors, though Nico focused on making sure his own cup was filled before he passed it on to Will, then reached for Will’s cup for it to be filled as well before he took a sip from it. A quick glance around the room allowed Nico to see that his advisors were even more appalled that Nico was drinking from a regular tin cup, rather than the golden one he’d passed off to Will - it only made Nico all the more excited about the reveal.

He set down the cup and began listening to the words his advisors were spitting at him.

“You can’t marry a man,” one exclaimed. “Who will carry on the bloodline?”

“We simply cannot approve of this, Your Majesty,” another insisted. “How do you think the other kingdoms will respond?” 

Nico leaned back in his seat as a plate of food was placed before him, and he watched Will do the same, though across the table, Nico’s advisors appeared too furious to allow the servants to set their plates on the table. Nico glanced back at Will, studying his face to see that he looked somewhere between terrified for his life and like he might burst out laughing at any second. Nico wanted to reach out to him, take his hand and give it another comforting squeeze, but their chairs were just too far apart. Nico reached for his wine again, instead.

“A king can’t marry someone like him,” Nico heard one of the nobles say, “he’s just a healer!” 

Nico slammed his cup down on the table, dark liquid sloshing over the edges and dripping like blood onto the table. He raised his other hand sharply, and the room fell to silence once more. 

Nico leveled each of them with a cold glare, his voice firm and impressively collected as he told them, “He’s not just anything. He’s the love of my life, and I expect you all to treat him as you would any royal consort. My father had already given his approval for our marriage before his passing, as has Will’s. If any of you have any issues with our engagement, you are welcome to take a trip down to the Underworld yourself to question the former king’s decision.”

Nico watched as a few members of the council shifted uneasily, and then turned his gaze to Will, suddenly nervous as to how Will would take his outburst. Clearly, he needn’t worry, because Will was watching him with a soft smile and eyes that glittered brighter than the golden cup he drank out of.

He didn’t remember Will ever looking at him like that. What did it mean?

Nico took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, and took another sip of wine. If he kept up this kind of drinking without eating anything, he wouldn’t remember this night come morning.

After a few moments, Lord Thanatos cleared his throat, and Nico almost reached for his dinner knife just in case he needed to make his threat clearer somehow. “There is still the matter of William’s parentage to discuss,” he said calmly, and Nico felt himself relax even as Will tensed beside him. “Solace is home to no one of note - it is but a small farming community. Surely His Majesty understands that he cannot marry a humble farmer.”

“He is no farmer--” Nico argued, though he cut himself off when he saw Will setting down his utensils on either side of his plate.

Will cleared his throat before speaking. “My mother was from Solace,” Will told them, “but my father is Duke Apollo of Delos.”

“Then you are not of Solace,” Minos pointed out, “but William of Delos.” 

Will flinched. “No, I--”

“Meaning you’ve been living in this kingdom under a false identity,” Minos continued. “Should we assume, then, that you have lied and cheated your way into your position as the physician’s assistant? And that you gained your engagement to the king under false pretenses?” 

“No,” Will argued. “I earned my job here, and I--” He looked to Nico for help.

“I’ve known his true identity since we were children,” Nico assured them, “as did my father. Will has never lied or cheated his way into anything, especially not my heart.” 

Minos opened his mouth to speak again, but Nico was quick to grab his knife. “Minos, if you attempt to intimidate my fiance into a false confession, so help me, you will be advising my father again very soon.” 

Minos leaned back in his seat and began to eat.

“William,” Thanatos began, and glanced at Nico who was still brandishing his knife, “...if I may call you as such?”

Will nodded briefly, and Nico lowered his knife as he started to eat. “You may,” Will said before taking a bite off his own plate.

“How do you intend to fill your place in the court now that you’re engaged to the king?” Thanatos asked, keeping his tone measured. “You have been studying under the court physician for most of your life - how could we possibly find someone to replace you on such short notice?”

Will blinked in confusion. “Replace me?” he repeated. “I don’t intend to find a replacement.” 

One of the advisors scoffed, and if Nico’s knife hadn’t been lodged in his steak, he might have thrown it across the table. “Surely you don’t intend to continue practicing medicine throughout your marriage.” 

Will frowned. “Of course I do.” He looked to Nico for support, his eyes full of concern as if saying, you wouldn’t make me give up medicine, would you?

“Would you have told the queen what she could and couldn’t do?” Nico asked the council plainly, though there was a threatening edge to his voice. 

Minos scowled. “Would you expect us to call him Queen?” 

“Of course not, you idiot,” Nico snapped, “but I do expect you to pack your things and find a new king to advise, because you are no longer welcome here.”

Minos gasped. “Excuse me--”

“You have been given more than enough chances to correct your way of thinking,” Nico informed him. “Be grateful I am allowing you to leave the kingdom rather than locking you away in the dungeons. You are excused.” 

Minos rose from his seat with a huff, throwing his napkin down on the table before storming out of the room. Nico waited until the doors had shut behind him before he continued. 

“As for the rest of you,” he said, his eyes scanning the table to make sure no one else would try to argue. “Once we are married, you will refer to my husband as king, and nothing less.” He turned to Will, resting his chin on his hand as he asked, “Which do you prefer, King William of Solace, or King William of Angelos?”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee | more auctober stuff

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Heart-Shaped Box 💟 7

Warnings: noncon/dubcon sex, obsession, possessive, breeding, sex pollen.

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Okay, here we go. This chapter overlaps with GYF so we'll be caught up and get wild in the next one. Hope you enjoy.

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You dragged the cloth down the groove, your fingernail pressed deep along the frame’s edge. You stared at the stock image of an orchard set in an eerie black and white. Would these frames one day be set with images of you? Of the child James hoped for? The house was cookie cutter; trimmed from the pages of any homemaking magazine; DIY feng shui or whatever nonsense they sold.

Your flats brushed over the area rug rolled out along the center of the hallway. Your name sounded from the next room. You lowered the cloth and crept to the doorway. James sat in the middle of the room, just next to the bunk beds, parts laid out all around him as he screwed a drawer together. The former dresser was disposed of.

“You should start on dinner soon,” He said. “We will be having guests.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Steve should be on his way. City isn’t very far,” He took another screw and sighed. “He’ll be bringing his girl with him.”

“His girl?” You wondered.

“Yes,” He said, exasperated as he tightened the screw and turned over the drawer. “I expect you on your best behaviour.”

You were silent as he set aside the drawer with several others. He got to his knees and set to arranging the larger boards on the shape of the frame. Your heart fluttered. You thought about this girl. Was she like you? Probably not. Steve, despite some lewdness, seemed sweet, especially in contrast to his old pal. You crossed your arms.

“Well?” He looked over at you.

“Yes, sir.” You muttered.

“I mean it,” He stopped what he was doing and let the L of wood fall onto its side. He stood and marched over to you. “Don’t think they’ll save you. The rules stand and I expect you to follow them.” He pointed the screwdriver at you as he came within inches. “Understood?”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. He turned the screwdriver in his hand and shoved the handle under your chin. He forced your head up until you looked at him. His jaw was set in irritation. He growled your name in warning.

“Yes, sir,” You recited staunchly. “I’ll behave.”

He shook his head and dropped his hand. You touched your chin where he had jabbed the screwdriver. He fidgeted with the tool as he turned his back to you. “Well, you should get started.” He said. “I’ll be down to check on you shortly.”

You watched him kneel again as he grabbed another piece of wood. You frowned as you lingered for just a moment. You eyed the screwdriver, the toolbox open on the other side of him. If only… well, really, even if you could snag something, you weren’t faster or stronger. 

You spun away and retreated down the hall. Your thighs brushed together as you tramped down the stairs and you murmured. He hadn’t touched you in the two days since your tantrum but the pills continued. You were able to distract yourself with your chores but the unwavering plucking had you on edge. 

You were antsy; impatient. More so, disappointed in yourself as you sank into thoughts of his body; of his touch. You couldn’t help but think of the sight of him as he worked on building that dresser. His broad shoulders, his firm grasp, the bulge of his muscles under his tee. You shuddered as you pushed the fantasies away.

No, he wasn’t what you wanted. He couldn’t be, he was your captor. He was a tyrant. He was the reason you couldn’t sit without squeaking. The reason you spent your nights behind lock and key. And, more importantly, he was the reason you felt that tickle. It wasn’t real, it was just another facet of his twisted creation. As artificial as the stock photos and plastic flowers. 

None of this was real, you told yourself, it was all a nightmare.

💟

When James finished upstairs, he came to look in on you in the kitchen. He was quiet as you prepped the evening’s meal; a roast with veggies. Content with your domestic tedium, he left and you heard him climb the stairs before descending once more, followed by the distant snap of his office door.

You busied yourself with tidying and setting the table as the food cooked then hovered around the living room. You peeked out the window as you heard people at the next house; a moving truck. You watched the men in torn jeans and sweat shirts as they unloaded the furniture and boxes. You tried to unlock the window but the latch wouldn’t turn. You just wanted some air.

You pulled your feet up onto the couch as you sat. The aromas of your cooking wafted in from across the hall. The windows slowly hazed as the sun began to sink. The timer dinged and you rose to stop it before the chimes started again. You shut off the time and pulled out the pan. You lifted the lid and checked the colour. It was done but there was no one yet to serve.

You put it back in the oven on warm and leaned against the counter. You could hear the movers still, then another car. You perked up as shadows darkened the dining room curtains and you went to the doorway to watch them loom closer. They disappeared to the front door and the bell rang. You blinked and waited. 

Nothing. James did not emerge, not even a shuffle from that direction. You slowly walked across the room and paused as you entered the hallway. You listened to the voices on the other side; their words muffled by the door. You reached for the handle and were stunned when it turned. It turned! It had been unlocked all day and you hadn’t even…

“Steve,” You greeted as you opened the door. You looked to the woman beside him. “And this is?”

Steve told you her name before he bent to kiss your cheek. “Bucky hiding from us? He asked.

“James is in his office.” You said as you held onto the door and pulled it all the way back. You wouldn’t call him by that name. He wasn’t your friend. “Please, come in. Dinner’s waiting.”

“Thanks,” Steve ushered his companion in first and followed her closely. You watched them for a moment and then scurried down the hall. You knocked on the office door and your stomach churned. “James, they’re here.”

“I’ll be out in a moment.” You heard him call from the other side. 

You nodded to yourself and returned to the entryway. You waved to your visitors as you passed and they followed. You looked at Steve and then the woman. Her stomach was round; a couple months or so, you guessed. She touched it and you blinked and looked away.

“Sit,” You said nervously. “Please.”

You were uncertain what else to do so you quickly fled into the kitchen. You sliced some bread and filled a pitcher. You placed them on a tray and carried them. You retreated again and pulled out the roast and carved it. You set the pieces on a platter and added it to the table, along with a bowl of roasted veggies. You looked up as James’ broad figure filled the doorway.

“About time,” Steve greeted and rose to shake his hand.

James sat and you flitted across to sit beside him. Your fingers ran along the golden chain around your neck. You cursed yourself as you thought of the door; still unlocked. It must’ve been quite amusing to him. He was taunting you.

“So,” Bucky said as he took a piece of roast. “How far along are you? If that’s not too forward?”

The woman sniffed and poured herself water from the pitcher. She spoke in a dull tone. “About four months.”

“Mmm,” James nodded and looked to you. “We’re still trying.” You ignored him and scooped some vegetables onto your plate. You peeked at Jame as you sat back. “But you know, the trying’s the fun part.”

You lowered your chin, embarrassed at the insinuation. You could sense the eyes of everyone else as they watched you. You took your fork and pushed your food around your plate as you avoided looking at anyone.

“A couple of months won’t make much of a difference.” Steve assured. “I’m sure our little ones will get along.”

You mumbled. Fuck that. You looked up at the ceiling and prayed this would all end.

“So, uh, you have a lovely house.” She said. “How long have you two lived here?”

“How long…” You tried to process her question and glanced over at James. He shrugged. “I just moved in um, well, you know it all just blends together.”

“I’ve been here about a year,” Bucky said suddenly. “Wanted to fix it up a little before she moved in, you know?” You nodded and crushed a yam. You wished it was him. He was so good at lying, wasn’t he? He had fooled you, too. He sighed and reached over to still your hand. “You know,” His metal fingers tightened over yours. “If you actually ate the food, you might not be having so many issues.”

You let out a long breath and apologized as you ripped your hand away from his. You scowled and he shook his head.

“Well, early on, I couldn’t eat a thing so it might be a good sign,” She offered. “Stomach would just turn so quickly--”

“Harder when you have to eat next to him,” You blurted out as you dropped your fork.

“Don’t,” James sneered.

You looked at him and narrowed your eyes. He knew. He knew you were close to giving up and so he unlocked the door as a test and you passed. You didn’t want to pass his stupid tests. Did he think he really owned you now? Because you were too stupid to try the fucking front door? You flipped your plate over on the table and crossed your arms defiantly.

“What are you going to do, hmm?” You trilled mockingly. “We have guests.”

Bucky’s face tensed and he lowered his fork. He sighed and cleared his throat. He made himself smile as he looked to Steve and his girl. He stood and reached over to squeeze your shoulder. His voice was thick with barely restrained anger. 

“Excuse us, she’s on some supplements right now and they’re not agreeing with her,” He grabbed your elbow and pulled you to your feet. “She’s a bit hormonal.”

You tried to resist as he turned you away and dragged you into the hall. He shoved you around the corner and to his office. He let go of you as he followed you inside and slammed the door behind him. You stumbled and turned back to him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hissed.

“Fuck you,” You sat back. “I’m going to go crazy in this hellhole, you know that? You want a baby so bad, find a bitch who wants one.”

“Shut up,” He barked as he neared you. “Shut up.”

“You think locking me in, chaining me up, caging me, will change the fact that I don’t want you or your baby?”

“I said shut up,” He came closer and you backed away. 

“I said shut up,” You mimicked. 

He grabbed your chin and forced you back a step. Your legs met the front of his desk and you gripped the edge of it as his metal fingers threatened to crush your jaw. 

“I warned you.” He reached down with his other hand and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. “All you had to do was be good.”

“Get off of me!” You tried to push him away despite the tickle along your thighs. He’d sparked that dormant flame that burned all day. “I don’t want you.”

“I’m going to shut you up,” He growled. 

He pulled his belt free of the loops and you tried to grab onto it. His hand slipped down to your throat and he held you at arm’s length. You tried to bat the belt out of his hand as he brought it towards you. You clamped your lips shut as he pushed it too them. 

“Open,” He demanded and you shook your head. 

He squeezed your throat until you gasped and he shoved the leather into your mouth. He let go of you and was quick to wind the belt around your head and tighten it so that you were forced to bite down on it. You murmured around it as you lashed out to keep him away.

He pushed you back and you crashed against his desk. You knocked several ornaments over and a notebook slipped onto the floor as you fell across it. He was quick to scoop up your legs. Your skirt flew up past your waist and left you exposed. He had given you no panties since the day before. His hand stretched between your neck and shoulder as he held you pinned to the desk.

You kicked around him as he unzipped his fly. He ignored you as he stood between your legs to keep them from closing. He pushed his pants down around his thighs and pressed himself against the desk. He dragged his cock along your folds and you shuddered as your arousal eased his intrusion.

He slid into you and hooked his hand under your leg. He thrust into you and you cried out around the belt. You tried to plead with him but could form no words around the salty leather; only babble nonsensically. He jerked against you roughly as he gritted his teeth. His jaw squared in blatant anger as he punished your body with his.

“You don’t want me?” He snarled. “Hmm? Sure feels like you do.”

He crashed into you over and over as you flailed out desperately. You wanted him to stop but also to keep going. With each thrust, your resolve melted away. You wriggled as you tried to push yourself up the desk. He grabbed onto your waist and dragged you back to him as he impaled you entirely. 

You let out a moan around the belt and he sped up. You reached down and latched onto his wrists. Your eyes drifted over the lines of his arms, the muscles limned beneath his shirt, the veins that lined his neck and bicep. Your voice rose against your will as your legs curled around him. You were close… and so weak.

Your body shifted back and forth across the desk as he used your body. He watched his cock glided in and out of you. You closed your eyes and turned your head away from him as you moaned wildly. He was right. As much as you hated to admit it, you wanted him, at least, the relief he could offer you. The small highs amidst the low valleys.

Your body spasmed as you came. He grabbed onto the tail of the belt and jolted your head. You opened your eyes and he pulled you up. He lifted you and pounded into you relentlessly. He bounced you against him easily as his deep groans surrounded you.

“You want me,” He grunted. “You want me.”

He swore and buried his cock to its limit. A warmth flowed through you. He leaned his head back as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He slowly lowered you back to the desk and you barely kept from collapsing across it. He pulled out of you and bit his tongue as he watched his cum drip from you. You gathered your skirt around your waist as you tried to keep it clean.

“Get up,” He breathed as he rounded his desk and pulled a tissue from his drawer. He wiped himself clean and tucked his cock away. “We have guests to attend to.”

You loosened the belt and slid it from around your head. You set it on the desk before him. You stood and noticed a ribbon of cum on your skirt. You wiped your cunt with your hand and held up your shining palm. “I have to clean up. Change.”

“No,” He scoffed as he tossed a tissue at you, “You can stay in that.”

[smugzayn]

Roomies

“So, what’s that mean?” you ask, trying to keep the bite out of your voice. Whether it’s apparent or not, it’s easy to read all over your body. Your hands are on your hips, your right toe taps violently against the floor, and your neck is jutted just ever so slightly forward in irritation. 

“Well,” your R.A. starts gently. “There’s nothing that can be done for you right now. All the assignments are full and there are no empty beds. You’re just going to have to room with him for a while”

You stare at her, hoping that she’s going to change her mind. Or maybe she will start laughing because certainly, this is some sort of joke. After thirty seconds of her falsely apologetically soft smile, you huff. 

“So, I will just live with him, then? Just live with Harry? There’s nothing you can do. I’m just - just roomies with him.” 

She nods, already inching her way back into her room, slipping behind a gently closing door. 

You nod, tersely, disbelief painting over your irritation. This is not at all going to plan.  

OR somehow you and Harry are assigned a dorm room at university. 

One.

You had been waiting all summer for university to begin. Every prep course, accelerated class, and extracurricular had prepared you for this very moment. You had even made sure to check every box on your roommate application that guaranteed your new bunkmate would be just as focused, driven, and ambitious as you. 

As other girls on your co-ed floor were popping into the boys’ rooms or flirting in the corridor, you were arranging your highlighters on your desk, flipping through your planner, and making sure the reading lamp was fastened tightly to your headboard. You didn’t have time for distractions. 

You were just ruffling out a lump in your duvet, the final touch of settling in, when a loud thump sounded from the entryway behind you. 

“Oh,” you turned around to find a tall, shaggy-haired boy standing in your doorway with several fancy-patterned duffles weighing him down. He struggled to flip his black ray-bans atop his head as he looked at you in surprise.

“You must be in the wrong place; boys rooms are on the other side of the hall.”

“Hello,” he grinned, ignoring your comment and looking you up and down, bringing what you hoped wasn’t a noticeable blush to your cheeks. There were two deep dimples next to his upturned mouth, a charming smile twisting his lips and bunching the skin next to his eyes, and a mop of dark hair that looked like it, at any point, could overtake his whole head. Unceremoniously, he dropped all his bags to the floor and shoved a hand into his pocket to un-crumble a tattered piece of paper. 

“Room 212?” he asked, pinching the plump of his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger as he scanned his paper. His voice had a long, slow drawl to it. “Right? This is room 212?” 

You shook your head in confusion. 

“No - Well, yes,” you agreed hesitantly, scrunching your brows together in confusion. “It is, but the boys’ rooms are on the other side of the -” 

“No,” he interrupted. “This is right.” He held the paper out for you to inspect. You read it over: Harry Styles - ID#1D-557819, Room 212. When you looked up at him in disbelief, he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled joyfully as if the matter was settled.

What was wrong with him? This wasn’t going to work? You couldn’t bunk with - with him. You were no prude, but it wasn’t really proper to just live with a boy you didn’t know. And he just looked like a distraction. 

You stood there in shock as he lugged his duffle bags in one swift motion onto the empty bed beside you. With no concern for the situation, he started pulling out a very haphazardly packed luggage full of flannel shirts, graphic tees, pink flamingo stringed lights, and at least three different bottles of vodka.

When he turned around to dump a handful of mismatched socks on his desk, you noticed his grey sweatshirt read Margaritaville University. Oh god.

“What are you doing,” you sputtered from where you stood with your arms tight across your chest, clearly flustered.  “You can’t - we aren’t - You can’t be my roommate. You - you have to move.” 

He grabbed a pile of shirts with a big fist and stuffed them into a drawer. “Look, roomie,” he drawled lazily, just barely glancing over his shoulder towards you with an easy smirk. “It’s happening. Embrace it -” 

“Absolutely not,” you huffed, looking at him in disbelief. 

You watched him force a too full drawer shut by throwing his shoulder into it- you think it was a mix of pants, shirts, and beanies - before he walked over to stand in front of you. He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair, leaning back to crack his spine and letting a sliver of skin at the bottom of his torso peak out. 

You hate that his smirk deepens when your eyes are drawn towards it. It’s infuriating.

“I’m Harry,” he says once again, flashing a sideways grin at you and holding out his hand in greeting. Shaking it would feel like some sort of agreement or a surrender to the situation. You’re not so easy to give in, so after you stare at it for a minute, he laughs dryly and shoves both hands into his pockets. “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you ‘roomie’?” 

“I’m going to go talk to the room advisor.” 

You storm out of the room, but his chuckle of “...nice to meet ya” still follows you out the door.  

.....

It takes about an hour after Harry moves into your room to find out that he’s terribly, terribly social.  

The university move-in date for Freshman is a Friday because they want Freshman to have the weekend to get “acclimated” before classes begin on Monday. So, you spend this time planning your routes to each class, visiting the library and booking a private study room for the semester, and starting an email chain to organize study groups for your courses. You go to the university bookstore and buy your books, begin taking notes on the introductory chapters, and hungrily read through the course syllabus listed on the online platform. 

Harry, on the other hand, well you’re not quite sure what he spends his time doing. He darts into your room to quickly change into a new top, or you pass him with a big group of people in someone’s room, or some girl pops by saying, “Oh, I didn’t know Harry had a girlfriend.” You are always quick to inform, begrudgingly, that you two are just temporary roommates. 

When the Sunday night before classes begin rolls around, he taps you on the shoulder from where you’re studying with headphones in at your desk. 

“What do you think?” he asks, modeling a black top and matching black jeans. He looks genuinely curious, like for some reason he truly wants a stranger’s input on his outfit. It’s disconcerting. “I’m worried it’s too much black.” 

You’re confused. 

“Is this what you’re wearing to class tomorrow?” 

He laughs loudly, falling back on his bed in the process. He starts shoving on a pair of black sneakers. “Class? What - no! I am going to a house party with a guy across the hall.” He flutters his eyelashes at you, “You want to be my date?” 

You rearrange your highlighters as an excuse to look away but still noticeably sputter, “I’m studying - and classes start tomorrow -” 

“Oh, god,” he groans, pretending to push a pair of glasses up his nose. “You are seriously going to have to loosen up. It’s the first weekend of university! What in the hell are you even reading?”

“It’s coursework -” you rebuke defensively. 

“Courses haven’t even started,” he interjects, reaching over you and snagging the book off your desk. “What even is this? Historical Particularism? Functionalism? Neo-What?”

“Classism. I’m pre-law.” You stand up to snatch your book back, but he plays keep-away and holds it with one long arm behind him. It isn’t until he pointedly clears his throat with a big, stupid smirk on his face that you notice you’re practically climbing atop him to get at it. 

You lean back, straightening out a wrinkle in your top, and holding out your hand impatiently. “Gosh! If you’re going, then just go.”

He rolls his eyes, but the amused smirk doesn’t falter. Teasingly slow, he gives you your book. “You’re going to be my date at some point,” he decides, as you look away. “You can’t be like this all semester.”

“I’m on scholarship.” You sit back down at your desk. “I have to get good grades.” 

You can tell he doesn’t really understand. He’s posh. From the moment he walked in you could tell it like he was wearing a public school uniform. He had the holiday tan, and his luggage was all the same matching, expensive print, and he had that confidence of someone who knows they belong. You’ve never had that assurance. You were the first in your family to attend college, you were proper working class, and you were here because of you. Not daddy’s money, or mummy’s network, or some sort of legacy connection. You were here because you had worked damn hard. 

Harry clears his throat from where he’s fixing his hair in the mirror. “But I still need your opinion.”

You throw your hands up in irritation. “On what?” 

“My outfit!” he growls, leaning back, posing with one foot out and a hand propped behind his head. He looks ridiculous. “Is the black-on-black okay? It’s a new top. I’m not sold on it. I’m going for rough and mysterious yet approachable and -”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, cutting off the rambling description of his aesthetic. “What do you want my opinion for, anyway? It’s not like I even know you.”

He shakes his head in disappointment, but the smirk he bites back tells you he’s enjoying riling you up more than he lets on. “You’re my roommate. It’s what we do. I need your -” 

You spin around to glare at him, “We are not roommates.”  He makes a show of looking about the room at his stuff and your stuff - all in one room. Not having to say anything to point out the very clear fact that you are very much roommates. “This is temporary.”

“Right,” Harry nods his head in amusement, unwilling to push you any further on the topic. After a moment, he adds, “Then what you’re saying is that it’s too much black.” He grabs a flannel from the mess of clothes under his bed and ties it around his waist. Then, once again, he looks at you expectantly. 

“Oh my God,” you groan, flopping your head down on your desk into your open textbook. “Yes, it looks fine. The shoes, the tee, the flannel, and the black, and your hair all look great.”

He nods his head happily, and snags a bottle of something that he had hidden in some mess of a drawer. He tucks into a pocket, arranging the tied top around his waist to hide the bulge. “Perfect,” he whispers to himself, the smile clear in his voice as he walks to the door, finally leaving you to your studies. 

“You like my hair?” he asks cheekily, slipping into the corridor with a final irritating call of “Don’t miss me too much, roomie!”

The highlighter you throw bounces off the slammed door. 

.....

“Oh,” you say from where you’re reading on your bed. “I didn’t know you were coming back.” 

Harry shrugs his shoulders. He looks hungover. It’s Saturday morning, so he probably is. There have been four weekends since school began - Harry’s gone out for all of them. Even during the week he goes out a few times. You're thankful that he never comes back to your room after; you don’t know where or who he’s staying with, but at least it’s not with you. 

You accidentally squish your nose at him before you register what you’re doing. He reeks of stale alcohol and floral perfume. 

“Do I smell?” he asks, grabbing his towel off his bed and searching through his drawers for five minutes before finding a set of fresh clothes. 

“A little,” you lie, looking away from him and returning your eyes, if not your attention, back to your book. 

“Y’know, you should come out with me sometime.” He grabs the towel off the hook on his wardrobe and slings it around his shoulder. “Oh. Can I borrow your shampoo?”

“What?” you look at him suspiciously, trying to determine how serious he’s being. You’ve noticed Harry likes to say things just to distract you from studying. 

“Your shampoo,” he repeats, nodding to where you keep it. “It smells good - like strawberries, and I ran out of mine days ago.” 

You ignore the silly warmth that burns your cheeks. “Yeah,” you nod. “That’s fine.”

“Awesome. Thanks. And you should you know.” He snags the bottle out of your stuff. “I mean come out with me sometime. It would be fun” 

You roll your eyes and laugh easily. It’s a nice offer, but you’ve seen Harry’s crew. It’s big, the girls all look like they’ve got 5,000 Instagram subscribers, and you’re sure most of the guys do, too. 

“That’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s nice of you, but I’ve got my friends and you’ve got yours-”

“I’m not saying it to be nice,” Harry bites and the tension in his voice takes you by surprise. You look up from your book to see him leveling you with a hard glare from the open doorway; he has one foot out the door. “I’m saying it because I want to be friends.” 

“Harry, this is just temporary. I’m sure we will hear back from the R.A. any day with a new arrangement. I don’t think we really need to force anything.” 

You trail off awkwardly and squirm a little under his stare. He looks irritated, and it’s an unfamiliar look on his face. It darkens his features and makes him look dangerous. He rubs a big hand along his tense jaw and you can just barely hear the scratchiness of his stubble against his skin. 

He opens his mouth to say something, decides against it, and slams the door enough when he leaves that the pictures above your bed rattle slightly. 

Two. 

Your side of the room looks like this: your bed is neatly made, your wardrobe is tediously organized, and your desk is arranged for academic success. When you return from the shower, your towel gets hung, your dirty clothes go in the hamper, and your shower cubby gets tucked neatly away at the end of your bed. 

Harry’s side of the room looks like this: his duvet is a mess - always. He has five pillows, and none of them are ever on his bed. In an effort to be neat, the dresser drawers are bursting open with whatever clothes Harry has picked up off the floor and shoved in them. When he returns from the shower, his towel gets thrown somewhere, his dirty clothes get tossed by the hamper, and he returns your shampoo and body wash to you because he’s been using it ever since that day in September. 

You will appreciate that Harry does keep a nice dividing line between your structure and organization and his chaos and mess. He even hung his pink flamingo string lights down the middle of the room to remind himself. You don’t hate them that much. 

Despite the common ground that you two have seemed to find, your R.A. never gets back to you about the unconventional situation and your growingly impatient emails haven’t received their due response. So, five weeks in, it’s October, and you and Harry had fallen into a strange kind of normal. You wake up earlier than him, go to class, spend any free time at the library, and return basically just to study, shower, and sleep. You don’t even see him that much. The only time you really ever run into him is when he’s gaming or sleeping. 

You actually hadn’t seen him for three days before all the sudden you do. 

You’ve been studying in the library for about an hour between your political science and anthropology courses when all a sudden there’s a loud knocking and Harry’s big, dimply smile is waving at you from the window in the door. 

“Unlock it,” he whispers loudly through the glass. “Let me in. I need to talk!” A passerby curiously walks by and Harry adds, “Don’t worry. It’s just my roomie.” 

“Oi!” you hush, standing up quickly to unlock the latch. “Will you be quiet?” 

He clumsily swings open the door and throws his book bag to the floor before flopping down into the extra chair in the corner. 

“Roomie,” he begins, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. “I need your help.” 

“Harry, what are you doing here?” You whisper, moving to shut the door that he had just left open. “How did you even know - Also, stop calling me roomie. It’s just a temporary -” 

“I checked your planner when you were in the showers Tuesday.” He cuts you off before you can object. “That’s not important. I need your help. I’ve got this math test tomorrow and I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. Plus, my literature class it’s just - I have some monster paper about some book an emo lady wrote and I don’t understand anything. I have no idea-”

“What lit class are you in?” 

“133. We’ve got our first paper due Monday, and I’ve got no idea -

“Harry -” you look at him in disbelief. “Please tell me it’s not with Professor Allison.” 

Harry nods, his fringe falling over his eyes until he swoops it back into place. “Yeah. Why?”

“Harry! How can you -” you regulate your voice back to a whisper when someone in the room beside you bangs on the wall. “I’m in that class. I’ve not seen you there once.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s why I’ve got no idea what’s going on.” 

You sigh - deeply. 

“Please,” Harry begs, leaning forward until one of his hands is grabbing onto your knee in desperation. “I will do anything. Midterms are in two weeks, and I have to pass these classes. Please, please, please -”

You pull away, ignoring the warmth that flutters in your chest at his touch. 

“I don’t know, Harry. I’ve got a lot of my own stuff I need to -” 

He falls to his knees suddenly, close enough that his pleading fists are nearly sitting on your lap. 

You look anxiously to the window to make sure no one can see the strange scene. 

“Harry, really -” 

“I’ll move out at semester,” he promises, suddenly staring into your eyes. “I will take all my stuff and move across the hall with Daniel. His roommate already dropped, so he’s on his own. I’m sure it would  be-” 

You can’t mask the excitement in your voice. “Really? You will? You promise?”

Harry leans back, the loss of his touch taking a warmth with it. 

He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it all out of his face. “I swear on it. You help me pass this semester, and I will move out in December. You will be all on your own by January.” 

He sticks out a hand to shake and this time you don’t hesitate to agree wholeheartedly. 

.....

You step in front of Harry, toss your copy of Frankenstein onto his desk, and hit the power button on the XBox. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Harry blurts, pulling his headset off and looking at you in irritation. “We were just about to storm that -” 

“You asked for my help,” you shove a schedule into Harry’s outstretched hands and pull your desk chair over to sit. He grumbles something, but he drops his headset to the floor and glances at the paper unhappily. 

“Study group? Library? Wake up time? What is this?” 

“It’s your schedule.” You move on despite his grumbling. “There’s a study group for your math class on Wednesday nights at 6 and a grad student gives private lessons every Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I’ve signed you up for both. Also, I’m going to start waking you up for our lit class. There's really no reason that you can’t -”

Harry curses under his breath, but, again, you ignore it and push on.

“Plus, I’ve scheduled you for library time with me every Saturday afternoon. That’s the pink highlight. However, I thought we might start that paper now, your literature one...seeing as it’s due in -” you look at your phone, “six hours.” 

“Shit,” Harry groans, and leans back in his chair, already exhausted with the task. “Okay, roomie, let’s get to it.” 

“Harry -” 

“I know. I know. It’s just temporary,” he smirks, sliding his chair close to his desk and then grabbing yours and pulling you close in one swift motion. “I wish you’d stop saying that.” 

You reach around Harry to grab the book instead of meeting his eye. 

“So, what did you think about Frankenstein?” you ask, flipping through the text to re-read some of your annotations and find your favourite quotes. “Was it the frame narrative? Or the subversive female voice? Or maybe the complex relationship between the Monster and Victor?”

“Well, you see,” Harry drawls, forcing you to hide a smile as his face turns with a boyish smirk. “I would say that everything is my favourite because -”

“You haven’t read it,” you realise flatly. 

“I haven’t read it,” he agrees, his charming yet bashful smile still painting his face. 

You sigh heavily, letting your chest heave dramatically and ignoring the flash of amusement in Harry’s eyes. 

“Well,” you decide, flipping until you are on page one. “Then let’s start at the beginning.” 

.....

“Harry,” you try to keep the whine out of your voice, but it’s no easy task. How can someone that looks as good as he does be so absolutely frustrating? “Harry, get up! Come on!” 

You pull up the duvet so it’s covering his bare shoulder and then push to rouse him awake. “Let’s go! We’re going to be late. Really, Harry!” 

It’s been two weeks since you gave Harry his schedule. He’s attended every study session with the grad student (you checked) and has walked with you to the library for all his study groups. He’s even come and sat with you at the library for the last two Saturdays. Although, you would argue, he’s spent more time pestering you than actually completing any studying. 

This, however, has not been Harry’s easiest hurdle to jump. You spend every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning thinking of new, clever ways to convince him to wake up. Although, maybe you should just be grateful that he’s sleeping in his bed way more often. 

You think you’ve rubbed off on him in some small way, at least. 

“Please, Harry. We really need to -” a strong tug on your arm surprises you and Harry suddenly has you tangled up with him in bed. Your cheek falls against the skin of what was his carefully covered shoulder and his entire torso is bare up against you. 

“Harry,” you squeal, pressing against his chest, but his strong arms are wrapped around you. 

“Shhhh,” he mutters sleepily, nuzzling you into his chest and pulling you close until your nose is near smushed tight against the curve of his neck. “Lay with me for five minutes and then I’ll get up. Promise. Then I’ll get up.”

His voice sounds like gravel. 

You squirm and he hushes you again by promising just five minutes. 

“Fine,” you agree, not really seeing another option. His hold relaxes, and you weigh heavy in his arms. 

So, you lay there, in his bed, tight up against his body for five long minutes. You can feel his breath against your hair, and the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek, and even his thick, strong legs brushing the front of yours. It makes you nervous, and anxious, and warm, and confused. 

You check the clock seven times before the five minutes is up. As soon as Harry let’s you go, you grab your bag, run a brush through the back of your hair, and make an excuse to wait for him in the corridor. 

You can’t look at him when you walk to class without blushing that morning. You think he notices because he keeps finding excuses to shove his face right in front of yours: you’ve got an eyelash, or a piece of dust in your hair, or a fleck of something along your bottom lip. 

He laughs every time you shoo him away and asks coyly about why your face is so red.

After that morning, he makes you lay with him for five minutes before he wakes up every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until midterms. He calls it a “roomie alarm” and somehow it becomes a normal thing. 

.....

“Thank god,” you sigh, flopping into your bed. You’ve just returned from your last midterm. The professor has already entered the grades, you aced it. Actually, you’ve aced all of them. You’re going to relax this weekend; you’ve completed your first quarter with a 4.0. 

You had gotten about four hours of sleep last night after staying up revising your paper on Canterbury Tales. You’ve decided there is a special spot in Hell for Chaucer. You’re just on the very verge of dozing off when the door to your room flies open, smashes into the wall, and a heavy mass falls atop you. 

“Oof,” you groan, wiggling uncomfortably until you feel the weight roll off you and thump to the floor. You prop yourself on your elbow and turn to see Harry laying on the floor, a giant grin on his face, a piece of paper held tightly to his chest. 

“We did it,” he laughs, holding the paper up to you. 

You sit up in excitement, grabbing it out of his hand and reading over it. One C, three B’s, and two A’s. You try to push away the thought that Harry had printed off his midterm report just to show you. 

“Oh my gosh, Harry! You got an A on your math and English midterms.” You look down at him, there are happy crinkles next to his eyes, and his dimples are two deep pinpricks. His smile makes your heart flutter. “I can’t believe you did it.”

He suddenly reaches for you, pulls you down by your arm, and hugs you tightly atop him. It’s like “roomie alarm,” but it feels different at this time of day, in the late afternoon light flooding the room. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

You laugh nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of your chest pressed tight against his, and his mouth in your hair, and his hands warm against your back. It’s one thing when he’s half-asleep in the innocence of the morning light. Why does it feel so different now? Like it’s so much more?

“Well,” you mumble, leaning just a little bit away from him. You laugh, “I really want my own room.” 

You can feel his grip slacken slightly, his body freezing underneath yours. 

“Right,” he clears his throat, gently shuffling so you’re sitting beside him now. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you get up until you’re sitting back on your bed. Putting the distance between you and him before you can even meet his eyes. Even then, after a minute, he clears his throat once more only to repeat, “Right.”

You go to your desk and shuffle around some papers. 

“So,” you try to lighten the mood. “How are you going to celebrate? Get pissed with your friends? Hit the pub? Pull a girl?” You ask, smiling easily at him over your shoulder. “You should go celebrate with your friends! You’ve earned it.” 

He smiles, but it’s tight, and it doesn’t light his eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow from the floor, he laughs, a dry puff of air through his nose, but there’s no humor to it. It sounds sad. 

“Yeah,” he raises his eyebrows, looking at you imploringly. “I guess that’s what I do, right? Go out, get drunk, pull a girl. That’s who I am then, right?” 

“Harry,” you watch as he pulls himself up, grabs a snapback from his wardrobe and throws a plaid top on. “I’m sorry. I just meant that-”

“What? It’s nothing,” he interrupts, brushing past you when you reach for him. “I get it. You didn’t say anything wrong. Don’t apologize.” 

He doesn’t look back when he walks out the door. 

Three. 

After midterms, things continue like normal, except they don’t. 

Harry still meets you to study at the library, but he asks fewer questions, and there’s less touching that makes your heart beat faster, and you don’t find him staring at you when you’re not looking like you did before. You don’t look forward to Saturdays anymore. 

In the dorms, it’s different too. 

He’s there more but less. It’s weird. He’s there all the time now. He sleeps there every night, and he goes out with his friends less, but it doesn’t feel like you interact any more. He doesn’t drive you crazy by asking you ridiculous questions, or teasing you about being a nerd, or start yelling at the screen while he’s gaming until you throw a book at him. Instead, he’s lights out at ten, and headphones in all the time, and he never sleeps past his alarm, and he never needs five more minutes.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt from across the table. 

Harry arrived in your study room twenty minutes ago, but aside from asking to borrow a pencil, he’s not said a word to you. 

“I didn’t mean all those things. I don’t think you’re just some stupid frat boy, or caveman, or something. I don’t even - I don’t even know why I said it. It was just - I think I was scared and I just said those things to be mean or to push you away. I don’t know. I’m just really, really sorry that I did.”

Harry leans back from where he was crouched over The Great Gatsby. You think he could give Jay Gatsby a run for his money. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling it away from his head, and looking a bit crazed as a result. 

“Wow,” he smirks, his lips turning at one side to make his mouth all crooked. “That was...out of nowhere.” 

You try to keep your voice from cracking, taking a moment to brush back your hair and hopefully distract from the heat in your face. “Well, yeah. I’ve been wanting to say it forever. Basically since that night - since midterms. I really am sorry.”

“Well, that’s great and all…” he trails off.

“But you’re still mad?” 

“No,” he shakes his head and reaches out to grab your hand assuringly. “I’m not mad, but you’re going to have to make it up to me.” 

You look at him skeptically. The giant, devilish smirk on his face doesn’t make him look very trustworthy. His eyes are normally just a beautiful green; right now they look dangerous.

“My mate’s having a party tonight. A house party,” he begins and starts piling up his books and notepad and shoving it carelessly into his bookbag. “I want you to come with me.”

“Okay, but not as your date -”

He nods his head and waves his hand to stop you from voicing the thought. 

“As my roommate,” he assures but there’s something in his eyes that makes you believe he knows something that you don’t. As if there's a secret that he’s left you out of. “Just a roommate.” 

He doesn’t give you a minute to respond. Instead, he piles all of your stuff up too and starts shoving it into your bookbag. He ignores your protests. 

“Let’s go,” he demands, slinging your book bag over his shoulder along with his own and grabbing your hand to pull you behind him out the door. “It’s Friday night. We are going to go out, get drunk, and have a fucking blast.” 

.....

Harry looks amazing. You want to give him absolute hell for looking exactly like the frat boy of your nightmares, but those nightmares seem much less like scary dreams when you look at him. He’s wearing jeans, and a plaid shirt rolled up a bit and a plain, white tee underneath, with a backward cap on with little flips of dark, curly hair sticking out and you don’t know that you’ve ever been so attracted to someone in your life. 

And what’s most terrible is that you feel like an absolute tit. You had borrowed an outfit from a girl down the hall. Your wardrobe consisted entirely of study clothes - leggings, too big sweatshirts, and tennis shoes. They had had a blast dressing you in a short, little black dress and some heeled booties. The dress felt a bit too big, the booties a bit too tall, and makeup and hair a bit too unfamiliar, but you’re just trying to hold on to the way Harry’s eyes brightened as he met you in the corridor on the way out of the dorm. 

“Does it look okay? I can still change. Should I just go change?” you had word-vomited as soon as he saw you. His hand wrapped around your wrist is what stopped you from turning back into your dorm. 

“Are you joking?” he roared, biting at his bottom lip. “Absolutely not. Don’t you fucking dare.”  

You were thankful his mobile had buzzed with a text at that moment. It gave you the opportunity to hide your blush by rifling through your bag. 

Now, at the house party, you still feel out of place, but you’re sure the shot you’re about to drown will help. 

“Ready?” Harry asks, his eyes twinkling in excitement. His smile makes your chest burn in the dark, crowded room. There are people everywhere. They are pressed up against you, and the music is so loud that you can feel the bass through your toes, and you're thankful for the cool breeze coming in through the open window. “On my count.” 

You grab the shot glass - it says, “YOLO” on it. You thought that was a phrase that rightfully died a long, long time ago. 

Harry counts to two, forgets three, throws the shot back, and then smiles from ear-to-ear as he watches you follow his late lead. He offers you some fizzy drink to chase; you gladly accept it with a grimace. 

“One more?” you ask and watch as he laughs in delight. A big, happy, throaty laugh that makes you want to jump his bones. 

He happily pours another, hands it to you, and this time, when he gets to two, you remember and take the shot right along with him. 

Initially, you think you’re immune to alcohol. Harry leads you around, a hand on your back, and you dutifully follow his guiding touch. You meet his mates and laugh gleefully as they tell you about how they know each other or banter back and forth. It feels like Harry knows everyone and everyone loves him. You knew he was social, but it’s nice to see it in action. He just bounces around from person-to-person and he’s got a story or a joke with all of them. 

And he makes it easy for you, too. He doesn’t make you feel like some afterthought or tag along; rather, he excitedly introduces you, or makes sure to include you in each story, or tells his friends some interesting anecdote about you that you didn’t even realise he had noticed: 

“Bro, she’s proper smart. She’s pre-law undergrad with a focus in family law.”

“Yeah, she played football and tennis growing up.” 

“She grinds her teeth so bad. Drives me absolutely mental.”

“She actually used to vacation by where your mom lives. She's still on the coast, right?” 

By the time you start to feel this warm, fuzziness building in your stomach, and chest, and head you’re not sure if it’s from Harry or the alcohol. However, when Harry leads you to a new spot in the house, gently guiding you with a hand on your lower back, you know it’s the alcohol that allows you to easily slip your hand into his, push him ahead of you, and hide behind his shoulder as he meanders his way to a new spot. 

You see him duck his head just slightly to hide the grin threatening to split his face in half. You hide yours, too. 

The new spot is the dance floor, and god there is nothing that could have been more perfect. 

It’s too loud to talk, there are so many people that you both have a good excuse to be pressed up tightly against each other, and someone bumps into Harry and makes him drop his beer, so now both his hands can wrap tightly around your body to pull you into him. 

You love the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You can feel the hard lines of his muscles, the tightness of his stomach, and the knotty muscles of his shoulder, back, and neck. It’s easy to sink into his touch, let his big hand run up your waist, graze the side of your neck, and take your cheek into this hand. When you lean up, giving yourself to him, he doesn’t hesitate to fall into you. His mouth crashes against yours, the warmth of his lips, and tongue, and his overpowering scent sending shocks through your body. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, pulling away and trying to bite back a smile as Harry looks down at you. His lips are red and more swollen than usual, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and heat, and bits of his hair are matted to his forehead. “Please, let’s go back to our dorm,” you ask, leaning up to pull him into a kiss. 

He laughs against you, holding your jaw in his hands until he forces you back and instead grabs your hand to lead you out. “I’ve been waiting all semester to hear that.” 

Four.

When you wake up the next morning, its snowed outside. 

It makes it easy to snuggle under the covers and burrow yourself into Harry’s body. You think it should be awkward, but it’s not. It feels overdue. 

“Good morning,” Harry grumbles, and you can feel his chest vibrate from where your cheek is pressed against him. A heavy palm sweeps through your hair, brushing it down, and his nails drag lightly along your scalp. 

“I didn’t know you knew so much about me.” You lean up from your spot on his chest, so you can see his face. “When you were talking to your friends, you actually knew a lot about me. Like what I want to do with my degree, and my favorite band, and all my siblings’ names. I didn’t know.”

Harry’s smile is soft. His hair is fluffy and somehow angry looking. It’s all messy from sleep and other activities. 

“I like you,” he shrugs simply. “I’ve always liked you.” 

You roll your eyes and smack him gently on the shoulder. “You did not always like me.” 

“I did too,” he insists earnestly, and the sincerity in his eyes erases your skepticism. “You’re just so fucking dense. As soon as I walked in here on move-in, I knew. You spent like two minutes straightening out a ruffle in the bed, and your wardrobe was color-coded, and everything was in neat rows on your desk. And then you were so goddamn huffy and puffy about me moving in -”

“And you knew?” you joke lightly, but he grabs your hand and kisses it with conviction. 

“I swear, I knew.” He throws his head back, ruffling a big hand through his messy hair. “Why do you think you never got a different roommate? Or I never got kicked out?” 

“Wait! What?” You sit up, staring at him in disbelief. “What do you mean?” 

“You didn’t think it was suspicious at all?” he asks, propping himself on his side with an elbow. “Sure it was pure coincidence that we got roomed together. But, I mean, you didn’t think it was weird that our R.A. never fixed our living arrangements? That never was like a red flag to you?” 

You shake your head. You had spent hours at the beginning of first quarter begging, reasoning, and even crying to the R.A. that you needed to be moved. 

“Well, I have my connections. I made sure it wasn’t going to change,” he smirks, seemingly pleased with himself.

“Harry,” you gasp, but dissolve into chuckles when he pulls you into his body, rolls you over onto your back, and leans over to kiss you deeply on the mouth. His hands tangle in your hair, and run along your jaw, and slide over the curves of your waist and hips. 

He eventually falls onto his side and pulls you into his stomach, the soft curves of your body melting into the hardness of his. His arms around you feel heavy, and make you feel secure and small. You think you could lay here forever. 

“I was looking at my schedule for next semester,” Harry begins and you nod back into his touch. “And, I’ve got a lot of hard courses. Geometry, another English, biology, philosophy, and music -” 

“Philosophy is not hard, and you’re excellent in music,” you point out. “You can play like three instruments, and I know that you-”

Harry stops any disagreement with light, nimble fingers that tickle your sides. 

“I’m going to need help. So -” 

“So, I don’t think you should move out,” you finish, turning in his arms until you can kiss him. “I think I would get lonely, and I think your grades would suffer, and I think I might like this.” 

“This?” he asks, leaning over you again and pressing you into the bed with a hand on your hip and a heavy thigh falling between yours. You shudder as he presses into you, the weight of his body holding yours down, and you can feel your heart rate rising up as his mouth crashes down on yours. 

His lips playfully kiss along your jaw, and neck, and collarbone. His hands feel like they are everywhere; their warmth covering your thighs, belly, and chest. You never want it to stop. You want to be here, with him, in this bed forever. 

“Hmmm?” he hums, leaning back to stroke a stray bit of hair from the side of your face. “What’s this?” 

“I like this,” you run a thumb over his plump bottom lip and guide his mouth down to yours, “being roomies.” 

xx

[masterpost]

[loveislattes]

Patience Is Key (Darkiplier/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt:  Reader only knows that sex is pain, so Dark shows her otherwise...?

Caution! This story does contain mentions of past borderline-abusive relationship and there is one scene that slightly delves into the situation, but it never goes further than pushing and forced kissing.

This chapter is SFW other than some cursing. The next chapter will be the oh so lovely smutty bit. ^^ Chapter 2 will be out next week! 

“Ah, damn it!” 

The curse left my lips the second I finally registered that I had dropped the extremely large box of pots and pans on my toe, and not on the flat floor as intended. Jerking back, I fell into the rickety wooden chair behind me and pulled my injured foot up into my lap with a wince.

“Why am I such a fucking klutz?!” I wheezed through the pulses of pain. 

It took a few minutes of babying my poor toe but eventually, I managed to soothe away the pain and get back onto my feet. Why was it that toe injuries always felt so much worse than other injuries? As I debated that question, as well as the existential existence of pain at all, I got moving about the sparse kitchen once more. The boxes weren’t going to empty themselves after all and I only had the two days until I started my new job to get it all done. 

“Lord knows if I had to take one more extra day off, it’d be the end of the world,” I muttered under my breath.

Working retail had to be one of the worst career choices in the world. Sadly, it was all I could find for the time being and this new house mortgage, low as it was, wouldn’t pay itself; Not to mention that my savings were meager at best and wouldn’t last long if I had to rely on them, thanks to my problematic ex. 

This house was a blessing in disguise and I definitely couldn’t afford to lose it. A beautiful victorian-style two-story home at only four hundred fifty a month, with no real damage other than cosmetic updates needed? Yeah. It was practically impossible. My first thought was that it had a sordid past, whether drug crime or murder related, but that didn’t seem to be the case thankfully. The owners had inherited it and we’re willing to sell it for a steal just to get rid of it so they didn’t have to pay taxes and insurance. Their loss, my gain, apparently. 

I had gotten so lost in my thoughts about work and the house that I was done moving the last of the boxes before too long. Score one for daydreaming! 

I set about organizing my cabinets next, emptying the boxes one by one until they were all barren and tossed to the back of the room.

“That’s a problem for future-me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair with a huff, “I guess dinner is next on the list. Never a better time to find out what take out they have around here!”

I meandered into the living room and plopped down on the worn couch, pulling my laptop into my lap. While waiting for the screen to wake up, I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and turned it on as well, needing the background noise with how silent the old home was. I’d definitely have to keep an eye on that or else I’d find myself creeped out even without anything happening. A random cartoon filled the large screen and jaunty music spilled from the speakers as the characters conversed. Shrugging, I tossed the remote back down on the table and returned to my laptop.

After logging in, a quick google search led me to a page full of restaurants both familiar and new to me. Moving to a big city definitely had its perks! 

“Now the question is which one,” I sighed. 

It took a few minutes of debating but I finally settled on ordering from a highly rated Chinese restaurant across town. I was promised my food in about twenty-five minutes and a delivery tracker popped up on the screen right after.

“That’s nifty!”

Setting the laptop back onto the table with the dimmed screen facing my direction, I let myself be pulled into the ridiculous antics of the cartoon characters on TV until a commercial came on. My eyes instinctively drifted over to the laptop to check on the tracker. The red line was about halfway across, indicating they would be leaving the store soon. Nice! Unfortunately, I also caught my reflection on the screen and couldn’t help but take a moment to fix my hair out of reflex. As I adjusted my top to look less wrinkled, I suddenly noticed a black shape in the background, near what would be the corner of the room behind the couch. I froze, heart pounding in my throat as my eyes widened.

“No way,” I whispered. 

Leaning in closer, I focused on the shadow. Too afraid to actually turn around and look, I hoped I could debunk it from this angle alone. I was just about convinced it was actually a part of the LCD going out in that one spot- when suddenly it moved!

“FUCK!”

An uncontrollable screech left my lips as I leaped up from the couch. Spinning to face the shadow, I reflexively snagged up the throw pillow on the couch and tossed it full force in that direction while trying to move away. Unfortunately, I forgot exactly where I was standing in the new layout and the fact that the table was behind me. I was reminded painfully of that fact as my calf muscle slammed hard into the solid wood and I went careening backward. I frantically tried to catch myself but only succeeded in slamming my elbow into the edge of the table and whacking my fingers against the floor in a way that made me see stars.  

Tears pricked behind my eyelids as I hissed through the urge to cry. I was about to lie in a puddle of agonizing defeat until I remembered the whole reason I fell. With a curse, I rolled over to my hands and knees, panting as I looked toward the offending part of the room. There was nothing there. No shadow and no reason I should have ever seen one there; no coat rack, no bookshelf, nothing. Just a bare wall. 

“What the hell was that?!” I groaned.

Now that there was no impending, visible, threat, I spent a good few minutes taking all my injuries into account. Sore calf, elbow, and fingers. Bruises were likely in each spot, unfortunately. Thankfully it didn’t get any worse than that. With my luck, I was surprised I didn’t crack my head open on the floor instead. It was with a heavy, defeated sigh, that I succumbed to the need to lay flat on the floor and catch my breath. 

“I’m losing it. That has to be it. All the stress of the move and being alone just got to me,” I assured myself quietly. 

I wasn’t sure how long I wallowed there in self-pity, but it couldn’t have been as long as it felt because I was soon roused by the sound of someone knocking at the door.

“Foooood!” 

Collecting my fallen pride and battle wounds, I scrambled up off the floor and rushed to the front door, snagging my wallet from my purse on the way. The delivery driver was nice enough and we made small talk as we exchanged food and money. I thanked him after he mentioned their loyalty program then shut the door before hesitantly making my way back into the living room. As I scanned the rather empty space, I was relieved to find it just as it was before; no shadows in sight. 

“I’m probably gonna have nightmares from that shit too,” I muttered, plopping onto the couch and popping open the box.

With a little shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I returned to the show and let the thoughts from the day slowly melt away with every mouth full of delicious food. 

…

It took two months of living in the new house to finally feel more at home. Most everything was put away and decorations filled the walls, warming up the once empty and creepy place. I no longer felt like an uncomfortably unwelcome stranger. The thought of that shadow did, unfortunately, still linger in the back of my mind every night though. I’d be fine all day until it was nighttime and dark in the house. Once the sun was down, it was like my gorgeous home was a totally different place. I didn’t see that moving shadow anymore, but I swore I saw things out of the corner of my eye and it constantly felt like I wasn’t alone. 

One particularly rough night left me searching the entire house for hidden cameras and trapped doors because I could have sworn I was being watched. Of course, I found nothing of the sort, but it didn’t lessen the fear by much. I even started making myself go to bed earlier than usual just to avoid being alone with my paranoid thoughts. Something had to give before I went crazy! 

I was even to the point of considering making new friends; Something to break up the monotony and constant feeling of being alone. Maybe inviting another person into the house would make the eerie feeling go away? One could hope! I wasn’t in the habit of bringing home people, due to my ex, but it was getting to the point where it might be necessary. A person could only take so much alone time!

A rapid knocking on my door tore me out of my lonely thoughts and back to reality with a jolt.

“Who could that be?” I muttered under my breath.

I hadn’t ordered any food and I was pretty sure I hadn’t ordered anything off Amazon recently. Uncurling from my nest of blankets, I hastened to the front door when the visitor knocked again. Impatient buggers weren’t they?

“I’m coming!”

Without thinking to check the peephole first, I pulled the door open and instantly recognized the horrible mistake I had made. I tried slamming the door shut before he could enter but already I was too weak with fear; simply seeing his menacing face leaving me powerless. He was easily able to catch the wood and shove his way in as if I weren’t even there. 

“Heeeey baby.”

I wasn’t even given a breath’s moment to respond. Instantly his hands were on my shoulders and I was slammed into the wall. Pain exploded through my skull and my knees weakened dangerously as I struggled through frustration and fear. 

“You thought ya could just move away and I wouldn’t find ya, baby? Ya outta know better’n that.”

The familiar sensation of bile rose in my throat when his lips smacked against mine. It took all of my resolves to hold it down. It would only add insult to my injury because he wouldn't give a damn and I’d be left worse for wear.

“Aw, come on. Play nice with me, won’t cha? It’s been far too long since I’ve seen ya.”

All I could manage was a timid shake of my head.

Fuck, it was like this any time he was around! Just being in his presence made the littlest of movements hard, like my body just instinctively gave up to avoid more trouble even though my heart told me to fight. If I could fight back, he’d probably back off after a while but I just couldn’t. Flashes of the times he tried to force himself on me, drunk and belligerent, held me back from it. Giving in was just easier, safer, in the long run.

I felt the numbing sensation of acceptance slide through my muscles when his mouth pressed on mine again. Disgust and hatred bubbled in my gut; not only for him but also for myself. So weak, pathetic.

Out of nowhere, the deafening sound of doors slamming rang through the air, causing us both to jump apart. With a Yelp, I clapped my hands over my ears to block out the painful noise as I looked around in shock for the source. To my utter disbelief, I found the cause to my cabinet doors, opening and shutting at breakneck speed. It only lasted for about half a minute before suddenly they stopped, just as abruptly as they had started. My astonishment was cut short by a cry from across the room. 

Having abandoned his pursuit, my ex now stood frozen near the door, ashen white and shaking. Upon closer inspection, I thought I could see a faint shadow around his throat but my line of vision was disrupted when he turned and rocketed out the door. Once the entryway was clear, the door shut calmly behind him. 

It was deadly quiet in the aftermath of whatever the hell happened. The sounds of my heavy breath were the only noises in the air. Scared, but thankful, I hesitantly surveyed the kitchen and the living room for any sign of what had caused the disruption. There was nothing, of course. Not even a hint of the shadow I had spotted months ago. 

Letting out a nervous sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and said, “Thank you… whoever you are."

I didn’t wait for a response before high tailing it to my room and diving under my fluffy comforter, torn between calling my mom or crying until I fell asleep. My body made the decision for me before I could contemplate it for long, shutting down and passing out quicker than anticipated. 

When I woke, it was dark in the room. The radio clock beside my bed read an irritating one thirty am. Despite having slept for six hours, I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink; nightmares resounding in my head like sirens the entire time. 

Rather than trying to force myself back to sleep, I slipped out of the bed, determined to get some hot tea or cocoa to help soothe my inner demons. Unfortunately, I spotted my reflection in my vanity mirror on the way by and I felt compelled to stop. My usually glowing skin looked pallor and lifeless and the bags under my eyes gave the same sentiment.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, pulling at my bedhead locks in frustration, “I’m not gonna recover from this.”

My outside reflection was only a sliver of the mess that was inside my mind though. And I knew I would get over it in the long run but it always felt so impossible at the start. I just had to turn the sadness into anger. My thoughts were derailed by the sudden feeling of eyes on my back; That familiar itching sensation of being watched sending shivers down my spine. I didn’t see anything in the room around me but when I finally turned back to the mirror I spotted it; an eerily familiar shadow. It was only moments before there was a man suddenly standing behind me in the reflection. 

Although my mouth moved, trying to scream or make any sort of sound, nothing would come out. Scads of questions bombarded my already frazzled sense of sanity as I tried to scream until eventually a worrying sense of calm washed over me in place of the stilted panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured me as if reading my mind.

The low timbre of his voice made the rational part of my brain melt but the way it reverberated around the room sent my hairs standing on end. My body instinctively went stiff and still as his arms reached around my sides. Cool fingers rested on my forearms and slowly rubbed the goosebumps away in a soothing manner while he stepped closer. I could hardly meet his eyes in the reflection without feeling as if I were staring a predator head-on.

“How did you get in here?” I finally managed to ask. 

An absolutely devastatingly handsome smirk curled up his lips before he flashed large, sharp, pearly whites down at me. 

Oooh fuck, those were some pointy fangs. 

“I’ve been here the entire time, darling. You’re the one who barged in rather abruptly when you decided to move in.”

I began to question my sanity once more as his form slowly lost color and brightness in the mirror, becoming a barely distinguishable shadow behind me. Though his touch on my skin never diminished, to the eye he was nearly invisible. Just as gradually, he filtered back into view. 

His reasoning was lost to me as I tried to figure out just what was going on until eventually, it clicked.

“You’re the mother fucking shadow that has been driving me insane, aren’t you?!” I shouted, jerking out of his reach and spinning to face him, “Just how in the hell did you do that? Why have you been scaring me? What-”

His hand came up swiftly and I froze immediately, only able to watch as he cupped my jaw. A whimper reflexively slipped out as his thumb pressed against my lips. 

“To answer your questions in order: Yes, I am. Shifting is just one of my many abilities. I have not meant to scare you, well, not these last few weeks anyhow. I’ve become- let’s call it- fascinated. Most would have left by now and yet here you stand, heels dug in like a stubborn mule. You’re intriguing.”

The moment he released his hold, I found myself asking, “What are you?”

“What do you think I am?” he retorted, stepping back and slipping his hands into his pockets.

I simply shrugged. How should I know? Before now, I didn’t believe in anything supernatural, but now I was questioning that stance.  

“A demon? A ghost?” I replied.

He hummed momentarily before cocking his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they burned into mine. 

“Does that scare you?”

So many freaking questions! I scrubbed a hand over my face wearily before slapping my palms against my thighs and mentally admitting defeat.

“Unless you’re going to kill me, no. You were terrifying in that shadow form but now that I’ve seen you face to face, I’m not so scared. Don’t get me wrong, I have a healthy respect for you but it’s also comforting to see that you’re not some decayed-looking ghost who is going to warp my face by looking me in the eyes,” I hesitated as another realization hit me hard then carefully added, “Not to mention, I’m pretty sure you’re what saved my ass earlier… right?”

There was a flurry of emotions across his face as his brows knitted together before he seemed to relax some and amusement showed at last. 

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

I shrugged in response before finally slipping past him to sit on the bed, the shakiness of my legs becoming too much to bear. I could put on a brave face but my body could give way any second. I had been through too much in the last twenty-four hours. Once seated and more comfortable, I met his gaze again. 

“Am I right? Were you the one that scared him away?”

He hummed and tilted his head once in a positive indication before adding, “Luckily for him, he’s as cowardly and self-concerned as most of you humans. Had that not have worked, I would have been forced to take further measures.”

The way his echo deepened and his fangs flashed in an animalistic snarl sent more goosebumps up my arms and neck. Fucking hell. My emotions were having a hard time keeping up through it all; enamored by his good looks, terrified by his powerful aura, curious about his existence. He was, simply put, overwhelming. 

If it wasn’t for his discoloration, echoing voice, and the fangs, he’d seem like any ordinary human. A very attractive human at that… I had to stop that train of thought right there! I’d be just like me and my horrible taste in men to get a crush on the ghost- demon- thing.

“So, um, you said you were here before me. Are you stuck here, like a ghost or something?” I managed to ask while rubbing my goosebumps away. 

“No. This is merely a residence of convenience. Your closet holds a portal to my realm and it’s the simplest way in and out for me. I choose to stay here when I must remain in the human world for any amount of time. You’re the first person to live here in decades.”

I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest in bewilderment when he suddenly moved towards the bed at an inhuman speed. A reflexive flinch had me jerking away when he reached out for me but he was quicker, hand snagging my chin to keep my gaze solely on him.

“Your turn to answer a question for me,” he stated without giving any room for argument, “Who was that man from before, and what is his concern with you?”

Eyeing him warily, I chewed on my lip then answered honestly, “My ex. I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily concerned about me. More so he’s concerned about losing his control over me. He was borderline obsessive and abusive.”

“Do you foresee him being a problem in the future?”

That was a hell of a question. Would he be back? I didn’t even really consider that after how fast he’d run away before but it was always a possibility.

“I honestly don’t know. I guess I should invest in some ADT or something, huh?” I half-assed joked, forcing on a weak smile.

The flat line of his lips told me that he didn’t find my statement as funny as I did. However he did, at last, relinquish his hold on me. 

“I will not stand for a brain dead ape damaging my property. If he comes back, he will be taken care of once and for all.”

Some little devious part of my mind dared to question if he was actually talking about the house, or if he was subtly making a claim over me. The domineering air around him made it seem like a slight possibility. I felt the heat flare over my cheeks before I could stop it and quickly wrapped my arms around my chest defensively before sinking back further onto the bed.

As if a private moment were suddenly disrupted, he cleared his throat loudly and stepped back while adjusting his suit jacket.

“I need to be going. It was nice to officially meet you. If it sits well with you, I will be more prominent around the house since I no longer need to avoid you.”

I nodded and awkwardly replied, “Yeah, er, that’s fine. I mean, it’s more your home than mine anyway, right?”

He made a noise of agreement then turned toward the closet, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. There was an indescribable expression on his face when he turned back; the whites of his eyes darker than before. 

A smirk that could only be read as cruel crossed his lips and he said, “You may call me Dark. If he comes back when I’m not here, simply ask for me and I’ll be here.”

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 4

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Chapter IV: in which ignorance is bliss

The next day found us in the next town over, a small farming village full of stout cottages and open pastures. Petra briefly suggested we snag a few vegetables from whichever farmer’s harvest looked the most plentiful, an idea I promptly shot down with a reminder that we don’t steal. She was not deterred, however, and I caught her more than once snatching a handful of berries or an almost-ripe cucumber out of some poor family’s garden.

On one such occasion, I caught her literally red-handed plucking raspberries off of a row of scraggly bushes behind a small cottage overgrown with vines snaking up the walls around a weather-worn wooden back door.

“Petra, how many times do I have to tell you to stop?” I scolded. “Every time I turn around you’re at it again. I thought we agreed before we left home that we weren’t here to steal.”

Petra stood up from her squatting position between the rows of bushes, dropping a handful of berries into her bag. “How many times do I have to tell you that I have done this a hundred times and have never been caught?” she retorted.

“You have been caught, Petra. Need I remind you yet again that I saved your life?”

“You and I both know that had very little to do with the food.” Petra stared at me incredulously, challenging me to argue further.

I took the bait. “Okay, fine, but that doesn’t change the fact that this food belongs to someone else.”

“Does it, Ace? Look around you!” Petra gestured broadly around us, at the overgrown house and untended garden rows full of weeds that came up past our ankles. To our right stood a run-down stable that looked like it hadn’t seen use in a very long time. I was beginning to consider the possibility that Petra was actually right when the back door clattered and a woman’s voice rang out over the garden.

“Do I know you two kids?” the voice asked, its owner scurrying through the garden towards us, holding a baby of no more than several months at her hip.

Serves me right, I thought, frozen in place at the woman’s approach like a deer at the sound of an arrow being unsheathed. Petra quickly hid her hands behind her back and kicked me lightly in the shin as if to say, be normal in front of this woman or I will leave you here and never come back.

“Sorry, ma’am,” I apologized when the woman stopped several feet from us, her free hand placed on her other hip. “My… sister doesn’t have any manners.”

At that, Petra kicked me again, this time not so lightly, though the motion was obscured from the woman’s view by the row of untrimmed bushes between us. I stifled a wince at the pain and shook my ankle discreetly, ignoring the odd look the woman gave me and every instinct in my bones telling me to run.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Petra echoed softly, sheepishly presenting her overflowing hands to the woman, and I bristled internally at how polite her tone was when she had kicked me moments before.

“Keep them,” the woman urged, to Petra’s quiet surprise. Then she examined our ratty clothing and, turning to me, she asked, “Are you both orphans?”

More or less, I thought. “Yes, ma’am,” I said aloud. “We’re on the road.”

The woman seemed to mull it over for a minute, rolling the idea around on her tongue for a while before she proposed, “Why don’t you help me clean up this place a bit? I’ve been so busy with the baby, lately, and there’s no one else here to help me. I can’t pay you, but I can give you some food and a place to sleep. I don’t have any spare beds, but I do have the stable. It’s been empty for quite some time, but there’s still plenty of hay to sleep on, and I may have some extra blankets.”

I had an excuse that I had been preparing the entire time she was speaking ready on the tip of my tongue when Petra broke in with a resounding, “We’d be honored, ma’am, thank you so much!” that gave me no room to protest.

“Wonderful! Let me put the baby down to sleep and then I’ll show you where the tools are.” The woman shifted the baby’s position on her hip and turned to go back inside. She called back over her shoulder, “My name is Esther, by the way!”

“I’m Petra, and my brother here is Ace!” Petra called in reply. Esther smiled wide and entered the house. When the door shut behind her, Petra turned on her heels and fixed me with her most exasperated expression.

“Why did you say yes? We could be caught!” I hissed before she had a chance to open her mouth.

“Caught doing what?” Petra shot back. “She already caught me stealing and is still choosing to be kind to us!”

I lowered my voice. “What if she figures out what we are?”

Petra narrowed her eyes at me. “How is that you’re the one who has lived on the outside and yet you’re more worried than me?”

“Because you need to learn that the more you press your luck, the closer you get to someone finding out the truth, and that never ends well.”

“You need to learn that not everyone is out to get you all the time. It’s not like you’re walking around with a big sign over your head that says, ‘Hey, look, I don’t have a pulse!’ If anything, acting like a paranoid weirdo all the time is what’s going to put a target on your back!”

I was going to argue further, but Esther returned then, carrying several baskets not unlike those we’d seen at the market the day before. She set them down amongst the raspberry bushes and gestured to a battered wooden bin by the back door.

“There should be some garden tools that my husband left behind over there,” she explained. “But let’s say we start by picking these berries before the animals get to them, and then next week one of the neighbors can take them to the market. That sound good? You can eat as many as you’d like—Well, not too many. I’m going to make some beans for supper.”

That seemed like an amicable enough arrangement, so I agreed, and Petra and I set to work while Esther went back inside to check on her sleeping child. We spent the rest of the afternoon filling basket after basket with the garden’s best raspberries, and taking breaks to lie back in the sun-baked dirt whenever Esther would come outside with something for us to drink or another story she wanted to tell.

When the blazing sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, Esther poked her head out the back door and called, “Supper is almost ready. Would you kids like to come inside to wash up?”

The prospect of “inside” felt daunting to me. Crossing the threshold into this strange woman’s home felt like overstepping some unspoken boundary, one that existed only in my own head to separate the relative safety of emotional distance from the dangers of familiarity. Out in the garden or in the forgotten stable, I could be merely a passing stranger. Entering the house, even if only for a few moments, felt like encroaching on something intimate and personal. Nevertheless, I trailed behind Petra into the tiny cottage, leaving my anxious thoughts in my wake.

The back door led into Esther’s small but lively kitchen. The windowsill was lined with tiny potted herbs, and in the corner stood a faded wooden table surrounded by three chairs to match. At its center sat a vase of striped carnations that made the whole house smell vaguely sweet. The walls were adorned with old portraits and photos of children and happy families, many with Esther and a man I assumed to be her husband. Esther stirred an old pot on the stove, the wood crackling softly as it slowly burned itself out. The baby could be heard cooing somewhere in a different room.

We ate our beans by the light of a small lantern out behind the house where it was cooler, out of small wooden bowls with delicate silver spoons that had clearly seen years of use but still managed to shine in the last fading sliver of sunlight.

Esther was a lot like that herself. She was a kind woman, soft around the edges, but she carried herself with the self-assured air of a person who knew she only had herself to count on. As the moon rose above the trees to replace the blistering sun, she told us about her life, as the baby slept in her arms. I learned that Esther’s husband had vanished on her about a year ago, leaving her to tend to their small farm by herself. She had been pregnant at the time and unable to work, and as time went by she was forced to sell what few animals they had and most of their equipment, leaving behind only what we saw before us. Since then, the farm had fallen into disrepair, and while it seemed clear to me that Esther’s neighbors were supporting her, I knew all too well the feeling that it simply was not enough.

“It gets a little lonely sometimes, with just me and the baby here,” Esther confessed. Then she smiled. “You two are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I welcome the help, and the company.”

I glanced down at my side, where Petra had already dozed off in the grass, before looking back at Esther and saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

I swallowed hard and averted my gaze out over the rows of raspberry bushes, the question laying heavy on my tongue. “What do you think it means to be alive?”

Esther hummed. “I think that would be different for every person. But to me, the point is to be happy, and to be a good person. Nothing more.”

I nodded. For the briefest of moments, I thought about telling Esther the truth. But the fear of being rejected, or worse, quickly swallowed that idea whole, and just as quickly as the thought had arrived, it was as if it had never existed.

The baby blinked back into wakefulness and stuck out a chubby arm towards me. Unthinking, I reached forward, and the baby pressed its tiny hand against my palm. The contact elicited a soft inhale, but I was left breathless. Esther merely chuckled. This baby, this precious child, knew nothing of curses or of what unexplained evils my calloused palms might hold. To them, we were one in the same, two pieces of the same star, floating under the same sky. I could never be sure if it were true, but that night, I had never been more certain of it.

 After supper that night, Basil and I sat in the tall grass behind his house, waiting for the fireflies to emerge as night fell over the village and the woods just beyond the yard. The summer heat was fading slowly into the gentle warmth of night, but I could not sit still.

“Stop fidgeting or the fireflies will get scared away,” Basil urged in a whisper.

I hesitated, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “Basil, do you think that story Marcus was telling us is true?”

My best friend tensed momentarily. “About the curse? Why do you ask?” His voice was uncharacteristically flat, as though he were trying to keep it from wavering.

I shrugged in response.

"Well, I mean, I don’t think it matters if it’s true.”

“Maybe.” I paused. “M-Maybe we can go ask your parents if they’ve heard of it before.” I pushed up from the ground to walk back to the house.

“Don’t!” Basil’s hand quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist, sending me falling back to the ground. The fireflies rose from the grass and scattered.

Horrified at the contact, I tried to pull my arm away, but Basil had a vice grip on it. “W-Why not?” I yelped.

“Because if you tell them about it, they might send me away!” he blurted. We stared at each other in shock; Basil didn’t move, but a certain desperation had suddenly filled his eyes. A single brave firefly landed on the hand around my wrist, glowing against his skin, but still he did not move. As realization replaced desperation Basil slowly released his grip at last and quickly averted his eyes toward the dirt. (I wondered if he had noticed I had no pulse.) After a moment’s hesitation I reached a cautious, shaky hand out toward him, but he flinched and pulled away. Instead, I grabbed his hand and pressed his palm against my chest, ignoring the ingrained urge to flee that began to buzz beneath my skin. Basil tugged for a moment, until I felt his hand go still and saw the panic in his eyes settle into calm confusion; when I let go, he brought his hand to his face and stared at it in disbelief. Basil’s expression evolved quickly from shock to awe to relief, and when he tackled me to the ground in a hug, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and I cried at the feeling of being understood for the very first time.

[skywalkingthegalaxy]

The Binary Stars Chapter 1

So another Mandalorian Fic out of the thousands that are written. Right? So I decided to get on this train because of the obvious. So I hope you all enjoy and here’s hoping that people will have fun reading! If you would like to be tagged please let me know! And I’ll see y’all later! 

Just attach this wire and….

And…

Anytime now please.

Nothing. Hmmm. Maybe just needs a little more aggression? Smacking the panel as the windmill turned back on and began spinning. With technology sometimes a little tap can fix it nicely.

Closing the electric panel to see that the only blurg in her fence was sound asleep. These Blurrgs including the one he’s riding towards the ship. They keep bitting the power lines and if one more does it I’m going to shoot her and make a nice stew.

Speaking of Kuiil he should be back by now from seeing if the ship was here for the bounty. He’s either being friendly or is taking a very long time riding back. Since the sun was setting he probably stopped to watch the sunset for a little bit. I’ll go get the tea ready at least for him when he gets back, and get an extra cup for the possible stranger coming to join us tonight.

Looking out to see Kuiil with a stranger following behind him. Must be another bounty hunter after this client that’s making Kuiil all sorts of upset. He doesn’t enjoy the violence which I don’t blame him for of course. After being enslaved for so long I imagine the taste of freedom is wonderful.

“Annika!” Kuiil yelled as I put my tool bag on my back then began climbing down the windmill. Landing on the ground to wait for them to approach me. That makes...twenty...there was the human with the symbiotic arm..twenty two. That is bounty hunter number twenty two attempting to capture this target. Maybe this time he’ll be able to catch the target and get these raiders off the planet.

“Twenty two. Congratulations your number twenty two on those who’ve attempted the bounty.” Commenting for them to stop right in front of me.

“We will discuss inside.” Kuiil told the bounty hunter as the Blurrg sniffed my hand.  

“Your blurrgs keep chewing through the power lines and eventually it’s going to end up killing one of them.” Commenting as Kuiil got down as the bounty hunter was looking directly at me.

“Welcome to Arvala 7. You’ll be comfortable down here till morning when we head out.” Motioning him to follow me as we began walking inside.

Kuiil was first inside already getting the tea ready for the bounty hunter to join us. I think the spare cot is still up from the last one that came through seeking this target. My gut is telling me that this bounty hunter in particular may actually get the job done.

The bounty hunter sat down at the table as I put down my tool bag next to me then sat down. He’s got some shiny helmet. I'll give him that much. Beskar which makes sense as it’s practically indestructible. Impressive. I’ve been studying my metals and other elemental stuff these past few weeks.

“Annika.” I held up my hand to him but he looked over than back over at Kuiil. Guess he ain’t too friendly.

“He’s a Mandalorian.” Ah. That makes sense with the armor and the stoic personality. Though the few stories Kuiil has told me I truly thought he would have brought more weapons. Not just a rifle and a blaster. Then again. If you’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy then you may not need much to get the job done.

“Many have passed through, they seek the same as you.”

“Did you help them?”

“Yes. They died.”

“Well, then I don’t know if I want your help.” Looking up as I stared directly at him.

“You do.” I commented as Kuiil handed me my cup and then to the mandalorian.

“We can show you the encampment of where it’s being held. And you’re going to need an extra body in order to get the job done.” Taking a sip as the warmth of it made me relax a little.

“What’s your cut then?”

“Half.”

“Half the bounty to guide? And volunteering to help? Seems steep.” Relax there shiny I don’t want payment. This has been sort of keeping my skills up to date so I don’t become weak.

“No. Half of the blurrg you helped capture.”

“The blurrg? You can keep them both.”

“No. You will need one. To ride. The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

“I don’t know how to ride blurrg.”

“I have spoken.” He poured himself the tea as the Mandalorian put down his cup. Right. They can’t take off their armor so there’s no way he would drink in front of us.

“It’s not hard. As long as you have some sort of good balance you’ll be able to ride it easily.” Telling him as he sighed.

Nighttime fell over the farm as I turned on the light underneath the canopy. Kuiil is dead asleep inside and rather not work on my weapons with him trying to sleep. My blaster needs some calibration for tomorrow. Rather not go in there with a blaster that can’t fire correctly.

The Mandalorian came out of the hut to start walking over to me, grabbing my poncho to then cover up my upper body.

“Can’t sleep?” Asking as I began taking off the barrel of the gun.

“Not really.” Motioning my head for him to sit on the spare stool.

“Feel free to sit here till you feel like falling asleep.” Telling him as I too off the barrel then continued from there.

“Do you clean your blaster often?” He looked down to put it on the work table.

“Better than what I expected. Here.” Handing him a spare pipe cleaner for him to take it. He began taking his gun apart as I began cleaning the barrel.

“How’d you end up all the way out here?” Sticking the barrel pipe down to start moving it up and down to get the gunk out.

“I was on a refugee ship coming out here to drop off people in the outer rim. Kuiil was sitting alone when a group of ass holes thought it would be funny to try to jump him. Beat them up and in return he offered me a home. Make sure you get around the gears.” Telling him as I grabbed my cleaning rag. We sat there in silence for the next few minutes while we continued to clean our weapons.

“What should I be expecting tomorrow?” Asking me as I put down my rag.

“About thirty to forty. One huge turret and an eagerness to keep whatever they have in that compound. The one time I went we made it a good way through but he was killed then they brought out the turret. Can’t exactly take a turret out by myself along with thirty to forty guards.” Telling him which made him stop cleaning and from what I can guess is thinking about strategy.

“Here.” Clearing a space then started moving around the pieces of my rifle to give him a visual layout.

“So according to their layout. This is where the asset is supposedly held in the main building. The rest of the buildings on the side is where these thirty to forty guards will end up coming out. A frontal assault is a horrible idea from a past mistake.” The Mandalorian began looking over the really bad layout of the compound.

“Now the compound is in the middle of the rock hills so there’s a chance for an attack from each side. But you’re the Mandalorian, I'll leave that up to you.”

“Does the main door always stay shut?”

“No. But they will shut it when we attack due to whatever this asset is, it’s worth a lot to whoever is paying the bounty. Can I know who the one is paying for this asset?”

“The Empire. What’s left of them in the universe.” The Empire? I...I didn’t think they were even around anymore. Figured the New Republic would’ve taken care of them by now. The outer rim must not be their top priority and if any planet isn’t Coruscant they don’t matter.

“Well I’ll let you get to thinking Mandalorian. Good night.” Getting up to leave my blaster apart on the work table.

*The Next Morning*

I sat under the canopy again to put together the blaster I left apart. After I finished putting back my blaster together I began working on my armor for the assault that was about to happen at the compound. My left shoulder plate just loves popping off after a few beams hit it. And rather not deal with an open wound in the middle of a firefight.

Putting it back on my shoulder for it to stay nicely on there now. Moving my arm around to see The Mandalorian and Kuiil walking towards the wild Blurrg. Hopefully we can get this done and be home by supper.

Hearing him grunting for my head to turn and see him on the ground. Oof. Who would’ve guessed that he lacked patience. Not that I haven’t ever but still I figured this would’ve been an easy task. It’s just a blurrg.

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet.”

“Perhaps it remembers that I tried to roast him.”

“That is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.” It's really not a pretty site when that happens as well. Yuck.

The Mandalorian got back up to attempt again. He’s rushing it and not giving them the chance to feel a bond. Every sort of animal species requires trust in order to ride and she’s a wild blurrg. Watching him fall off once again made Kuiil shake his head at him.

“I don’t have time for this. Do you have a landspeeder or a Speeder bike that I could hire?”

“You are Mandalorian. Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. Surely you can ride this young foal.” He’s not wrong. It’s just an animal that needs to make sure you’re not going to harm them.

See. They just need to make sure you’re not going to kill them! Clapping my hands together as he began riding around on the Blurrg. It just takes a minute to get a good grip and balance on these things. Truth be told I’d rather walk and jump around on the gorges for a little bit. Yet here we are.

Placing my foot on the table to grab my holstered knife into the boot. Next putting on my leg holster as I clipped it together. The Mandalorian came up to stand next to me to make sure he had everything.

“That a amban rifle?” Asking as he turned his head to look at it.

“Impressive.” Getting down on the ground to grab my gun case. Standing back up to see him still looking directly at me.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna take it.” Assuring him as I opened my gun case to pull out my DC-15LE. Snagged it on that refugee ship that was making its way out here. I imagine the Empire isn’t going to work their way out here to take it back.

“You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to.” He commented as I placed the rifle over my head and snuggled it tight around my chest.

“It’s not a matter of wanting. It’s a matter that you’re going to need my help.” Grabbing my shawl to wrap around my chest.

“Have you always helped the other bounties?” We began walking out and heading towards the Blurrgs.

“Only the last one. Everyone else I just assumed that they failed and were killed. But it’s been upsetting Kuiil with his peace and quiet being disturbed. So now I figured why not help a little to get this land to quiet down.” Walking past him then towards the blurrgs.

“Trust me Mandalorian. If I wanted you dead it would’ve happened already.” Winking as we turned the blurrg to start riding off.  

Passing through the cracks of the planet and into the rocky hills that hid the compound. Pretty decent spot to keep an asset because from the air it looks just too busy. Not to mention who wants to make the effort to climb rocky hills and cliffs just for an asset.

We should be getting close. You can see the remaining blasters and the smell of those who’ve attempted the bounty. The stench of these bodies never goes away, it only gets far worse and I can’t stand the smell. Slowing down the Blurrg for Kuiil to point towards the compound.

“That is where you’ll find your quarry.” The Mandalorian held out a small sack full of credits for Kuiil to decline it.

“Please. You deserve this.” Kuiil looked up into the landscape and sighed.

“Since these ones arrived, this territory has been an endless stream of mercenaries seeking reward and bringing destruction.”

“Then why did you guide me?”

“They do not belong here. Those that live here come to seek peace. There will be no peace until they’re gone.”

“Then why do you help?”

“I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only read the stories. If they are true, you will make quick work of it. Then there will again be peace.”

“I have spoken.” Watching Kuiil ride off as we dismounted the Blurrgs.

“The Blurrgs should stay here till we get back. Then we’ll go our separate ways.” The Mandalorian nodded as we began walking towards the edge of the cliff.

We laid down on top of the rocks as he got a closer view on the compound. Last time it was swamped with guards and some huge turret was directly at the entrance of the compound. Pulling out my electrobinoculars to get a good look at the entrance. So far it looks approachable and no heavy artillery in the main entrance.

“They usually have some sort of heavy turret.” Where is it?

“How many do you see?” The Mandalorian asked as I did a quick headcount from what I could see.

“About twenty from what I see. But without that turret it’ll be easier than before and is that a droid?” Double checking with my electrobinoculars to get a closer look.

“Oh no. Bounty droid.” Shaking his head for us to get up from the cliff. Watching the droid going into the compound and taking out the soldiers one by one. Wow this is the first bounty droid I’ve ever seen and it’s sort of impressive.

We began climbing down the cliff as quick as we could to see the droid was making his way through the compound. If he gets to the asset first I’m going to use him for spare parts! Climbing then turned into sliding down the hill and reaching the bottom. He was up first as he offered his hand to help me up. Getting up for us to walk towards the gunfire. Guess the droid is already making his dent in the compound!

“IG unit stand down!” The droid immediately shot him and sent him flying back. It held it’s gun up at me as I immediately pulled out my blaster.

“I’m in the guild!” The Mandalorian held up the tracker. Offering him my hand to help him off the ground.

“You are a Guild member? I thought I was the only one on assignment.”

“You alright?” Asking him for him to nod.

“That makes two of us.” We got behind the pillars waiting for them to come out from the doors.

“So much for the element of surprise.”

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.” Excuse me? Since when does a droid..what!

“Unless I’m mistaken, you are, as of yet, empty-handed.” Gottem there.

“This is true.” We both kept poking our heads out to see if anymore of the guards coming from the building.

“I have a suggestion.”

“Proceed.”

“We split the reward.”

“This is acceptable.” Thank goodness.

“Great. Now let’s regroup, out of harm's way, and form a plan.” They’re going to come anytime now! I’d like to be kept alive during this whole ordeal!

“I will of course receive the reputation merits associated with the mission.”

“Can we talk about this later gentlemen!” Yelling as they were beginning to take formation.

“I require an answer if I am to proceed.. ALERT ALERT ALERT!” Shit shit shit!

They started firing down on us from the roof of the compounds as more were coming out of the buildings. The bounty droid kept his stance in the middle of the battlefield as more and more were coming out of the buildings. The Mandalorian and I kept ourselves behind the pillars as I grabbed my rifle from my back. Loading and looking down the small scope to start firing back at the men.

“We gotta get to the door.” The Mandalorian yelled as he began moving to the next piller. I followed him as he turned his head up. Looking up to see one of them on the rooftop as I shot him down.

The bounty droid was focusing on every enemy for the two of us to work our way around to the door. This is going to work I think holy shit! The door opened behind me for one of the guards to tackle me. Kicking him in the gut for the Mandalorian to shoot him right in the head. Rolling over to behind the metal barrier to then sit up.

He looked at the tracker as it was still behind the main door. Glad to know that they haven’t evacuated it. I imagine they think they’ll kill us and move on. Not this time! The three of us began moving towards the metal door as the droid stood and began walking right in the middle of the path firing at them. What droid holy crap!

“Wow. I’ve never seen a droid move like that.” Commenting as I looked up to see two were about to fire down on us.

“Up top!” We both yelled as he got behind the opposite pillar.

The firing began to stop to see them beginning to gather up in the center of the compound. Why’d they stop? Is this when the turret is coming out? I’ve gotten this the last time and now it’s just a waiting game!

They began raining fire down on us again as we both kept out heads behind the pillar. Each time we would try to fire back the pillar would be shot to pieces right before we could fight back!

“It appears we are trapped. I will initiate self-destruct sequencing.” SELF WHAT!?

“Whoa you’re what?” We both stopped and were ready to shoot this droid in order to save our asses.

“Don’t you dare blow up!” Yelling at him as we kept trying to get a good shot of one of the guards.

“Manufactures Protocol dictates I cannot be captured. I must self-destruct.”

“If you blow up right now I will use your parts for my toilet!” I yelled as the Mandalorian looked over at the control panel.

“You two cover me!” Nodding as The droid was the first one out to start firing back. Landing a shot into the left one on the roof. They’re too much fire shit! More blasts were going past me than I could fight back!

“Go go go there’s too many!” I stood on the opposite side of the pillar as I was ready to go back out and face them.

“They got us pinned!” He yelled as I landed another target that was standing in the doorway.

“No shit!” Yelling as I ducked back into cover. They began cheering as the firing stopped once again.

“Do not self-destruct! We are shooting our way out!” The Mandalorian ordered as we all stepped out from the pillars.

THERE IT IS!

“Okay.” Is all he said for us to duck back.

“New plan!”

“What plan!” Screw it! I’m using it and if that means trouble brought down on me then screw it! Getting shot at like this is getting infuriating. Even last time wasn’t this bad and there’s three of us! Cracking my neck as I dropped down my rifle and taking off my poncho.

“Mandalorian! Get ready to run for that turret!” Cracking my thumbs and fingers to then step out.

“Papo. I can’t do it!”

“Yes you can.” Holding up my hands as I tried once more.

“The Gods have given you a duty my child. To protect those who can not protect themselves.”

“But it feels like a weapon.”

“Sometimes one must fight to save those who are in need. Concrete Annika. You’re the only one making it difficult.”

“It’s as light as air.” Closing my eyes as I began to concentrate.

As light as air.

As light as air!

Raising my hands to take in a very big breath. Turning my eyes into a bright white My white energy began glowring force field appearing before me as it was taking all the heat from the laser turret. The blast was bouncing all over for the shield to grow big enough for everyone to focus on it. He was staring at me as I looked over at him.

“GO!” Yelling as the droid went running from the other side and was immediately shot into the corner. The Mandalorian went around to then pull the turret towards him. Dissolving the shield as I watched him take out the rest of the compound.

Here it comes.

My breathing began to hurt as my lungs began to tighten up. This tends to happen when I don’t use this ability after a while. It feels like my body just sorts of tightens up for a little bit. Then it leads to the coughing which hurts worse.

“You okay?” The Mandalorian asked as I spat out the blood that came up. Whipping any remaining blood as I caught my breath.

“Give me a second. Sometimes my body doesn’t like it when I do that.” Chuckling at myself as I shook my head. There we go. All better.

“That was impressive you two.” The droid commented as I nodded.

“Thanks.” He nodded as he looked over at the door.

“Well, now we just need to get the door open.” We all starred at the door, then shifted our stance towards the turret. That’ll work.

“You two go in there and get the asset. I’ll stay out here and make sure no more come out to get us.” Ordering as I walked over to the turret and climbed on. I’ve been waiting to shoot this thing since I first saw it.

Flipping the switch for the turret to charge back up. Pulling back the trigger as I began shooting all across the door. It was shaking my entire body as I was super ecstatic at shooting at this door! YEAH!!! WHOOOOAAAA!!!

Now done.

The door fell over as the two of them stood in the doorway. For a few weeks I thought we weren’t going to be able to get rid of these people. All it took was just the three of us and some pure luck.

Now Kuiil can be at peace once again and I go..back to my life. Leaning against the pillar to go into my bag and pulled out my canteen of water. Taking a few sips to close the lid of the canteen. A shot rang out from the inside as I came running in to see the droid with a bullet in it’s head.

A little hand was poking out from the metal egg and was reaching for the Mandalorian. Is that a child?

Taglist: 

@mirkwoodshewolf​

[ggfj84]

“You and Me Against the Universe” - Chapter Two

I didn’t realize it was @sheithmonth! Unfortunately, this story is only three-fourths done, but I wanted to post something for the event. Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

For Day 24 - Soulmates 

Story on AO3 (including Chapter One) 

Chapter Two 

“You’re married?” Lance, the Blue Paladin from Nalquod, squawked once Shiro explained the situation. Lance’s otherworldly blue hair stood on end long after he had gripped both sides of his head. “You got married at the last coalition meeting, and you didn’t even invite us?”

Shiro wrung the back of his neck and offered a sheepish smile in apology. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“No shit, Shir-lock. Perhaps the plait in the room wasn’t a big enough clue.”

Propped up on the couch’s arm, Keith took in the whole scene in a daze. Less than a varga ago, he became the bondmate to the Black Paladin and leader of Voltron in front of the entire coalition and now sat in the paladins’ private quarters with Krolia and Kolivan as they all recovered from the whirlwind ceremony.

“There wasn’t much time,” Allura assured, resting a hand upon the Blue Paladin’s shoulder. “I know you’re hurt –”

“I’m not hurt!”

“I am,” the Olkari next to him, Pidge, replied. Her long antennae jutted out as if they could pierce Shiro’s armor. “It feels like when Matt eloped with his girlfriend out on that casino planet. You could have called us.”

Shiro’s shoulders slumped, and Keith’s own chest threatened to burst from the guilt that swelled within it. “Lotor was making a move to control the entire Daibazaal delegation. I had to act fast or Keith would have been –”

“So you listened to your dick rather than your brain, huh?” Lance spat.

Keith’s translator must have malfunctioned in the middle of Lance’s tirade because one word didn’t come across in Marmoran.

He looked toward Krolia and Kolivan. “What’s a –”

“You don’t want to know,” Shiro cut him off before turning back to the paladins with a heavy sigh. “Look, nothing has changed. Not really. Yes, Keith and I are bonded now, but that’s not going to stop me from being there for you guys.”

“It is a bit more involved than that,” Kolivan admonished, arms crossed and expression severe, while Krolia played with the wayward strands of Keith’s black and indigo braid. “Galran society deems bonding partners as sacred. As such, Shiro, you will be required to attend Blade functions as Keith’s bondmate and accept any invitations to the House of Sincline.”

Allura sighed. “Likewise, partners of paladins and coalition members are appreciated at meetings and galas. Delegates will expect to see you two together.” 

“I thought you said you were going to submit a grievance to remove the bonding clause?” Keith asked. Out the corner of his eyes, he noticed Shiro stiffen, but by the time he turned, the Black Paladin had already looked away.

Krolia pushed a stubborn strand of Keith’s bangs behind his ear. “We can try, kit, but the coalition may decide the removal will be applied to the next delegation’s heirs. Or they may not approve it at all. At the very least, the grievance won’t be heard until the next session, more than three phoebs from now.”

Dread pooled in Keith’s gut. “So you’re saying Shiro and I must stick together until then.”

“At least then.” There was a hint of something in Kolivan’s voice Keith couldn’t place. He thought it might have been resignation…or perhaps relief? “I would suggest you two take some time to discuss your plans as well as your living arrangements. I will be mindful of your new schedule when assigning your missions.”

Krolia pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead. “We’ll be in our quarters. Come see us after you and Shiro finish your discussion.” She approached Shiro then and coaxed him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Paladin Shirogane. The Blade of Marmora is in your debt.”

“Uh, my pleasure,” Shiro murmured, ears pink.

Once they left, Allura clapped her hands and turned to the paladins. “We must be off as well. Keith.” She cradled his forearm and offered him a precious, warm smile. “Welcome to the family.”

It should have reassured him, but instead, Keith’s stomach churned. What had he gotten to?

And then he was alone with his new bondmate and consumed by an intense, awkward silence he didn’t know how to traverse.

Shiro let out a quick, rushed laugh. “Bonding…was not my schedule for today. How about you?”

Keith debated about wielding his knife, just to intimidate. “I still don’t understand why you did it.”

Shiro sighed and collapsed to the chair across from Keith, arms dropping over the sides. “Full disclosure? I was engaged once. Few decaphoebs ago. It wasn’t a messy break-up so much as a quick one. Since then, Hunk’s tried to fix me up with his brother-in-law Rax. Allura’s introduced me to every single diplomat on Altea. Lance tried to hook me up with every member of his family. I think he almost convinced his mother to date me.”

Keith surveyed Shiro’s troubled frown, his trembling eyes, and utterly devastating grin. “So…you’re still in love with your ex?”

“What!” Shiro shot straight up. “No. We’re over. I just…I’m tired of everyone trying to find someone for me. Adam was—well, my flight partner for decaphoebs. We weren’t even together for the longest time. I learned that I just don’t…date. I meet someone, get to know them, and then fall in love.”

That made sense, though Keith wondered how many members of the coalition would volunteer to get to know Shiro over dinner. “Then this is mutual beneficial. You help Marmorans keep the Daibazaal delegation reflective of our planet’s people –”

“—and you help me stay sane.”

That was doable, even if Keith’s heart plummeted. “I can do that. So what happens now?”

Shiro struggled and looked down at his cut-off gloves, palms open and wondering. “I guess we get rings, exchange numbers, and then see you at the next diplomatic function for the coalition?”

Keith jerked a shoulder. Their bond already tugged at Keith’s soul, yearning to get to know his mate more intimately, if not physically then emotionally. But Shiro wouldn’t know about the bond, and Keith couldn’t possibility bother him with the unnecessary details. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Great.” Shiro snagged Keith’s wrist, and fire shot through his veins. Shiro typed his number into Keith’s gauntlet and then flashed his patented disarming smile. Did Shiro know how charming it – he –  was? “Don’t forget to write, my mate.”

Keith still hadn’t managed to lift his jaw by the time he meandered out of the paladins’ common room. He stopped short when he noticed Lance standing opposite the exit door, one foot flat against the wall behind him, arms crossed.

“Look, go easy on him, okay?” Lance asked. “And be good to him. He deserves the universe, and he’s decided that’s you.”

If Shiro and he were going to spend time together, Keith was going to need to get along with Shiro’s family. “It’s not like that for him. He’s still getting over his ex, and he could use a break from the endless stream of suitors you and your friends have sent his way.”

Lance snorted and glanced away. “He told you that? And you bought it?”

How else was he supposed to take his mate if not at his word? “What are you saying?”

“I haven’t seen Shiro look at another person since he joined the paladins. I haven’t seen him smile at anyone, not like he does with you. And now he’s jumping into the deep end.” Lance shook his head while stifling a laugh. “Look, just give him time to adjust, find out what he really wants.”

Keith’s heart ached as he glanced over his shoulder at the door. If only Keith didn’t know what he wanted. “I don’t want to hurt him, Lance. I…I want to help him.” Whatever that would actually entail. 

Lance’s eyes narrowed, searching Keith for something, but before Keith could retort, Lance dropped his arms and cocked a wide, mischievous grin. “You said it wasn’t like that for him. You didn’t say it wasn’t like that for you.”

Keith’s mouth dropped, agape, and as he struggled to recover, Lance clasped him on the shoulder. “That’s all I needed to know. See you around, Plait.”

As Lance retreated down the hall, Keith sighed and started off in the opposite direction. In the Galran diplomatic quarters, his mother and Kolivan waited, and he just wanted to forget the day ever happened.

If only the bond pulsating deep within his soul would let him. 

--- 

Hoping to post at least one more chapter by the end of Sheith Month!

[saundraswriting]

Need Some TLC Chapter 6: Gratitude

(I lied on the last chapter? I guess I had one more ready that needed formatted. Told you all I am freaking clueless.)

SUMMARY:You discover just how far these two men are willing to go for you. You wonder at your inability to portray your thanks, they seem to ignore your determination to be polite.

WARNINGS: None. 

Masterlist // Previous // Next

Your eyes popped open, your alarm jarring you to full awareness. You got out of bed and made your way into your apartment, the event of the previous day fuzzy and vague. Until you saw the Blue Planet case on the coffee table.

"Cool. Cool. Yesterday happened, for real. Captain America and The White Wolf broke down my door, in an attempt to save my life. Sort of. Then we had lunch and Captain Rogers replaced said door." You spoke to yourself. "Jeez, those two men." Your tone of exasperation was undermined by the fond smile you had. The apartment was clean enough when you went to bed but it somehow felt more lived in and looked more clean. You shrugged it off as morning fog. "Whatever, breakfast time." You walked to the fridge and saw the note left on the fridge.

"What. What? What?! Groceries? Tony? Tony Stark?" You asked the note in your hand. When it didn't answer-as expected-you shook it and threw it on the counter. You wrenched open the fridge, freezer and pantry. All three were full to bursting with food that was most definitely not there last night. Both made and not, and packaged and not. You knew your mouth was gaping open like a fly trap but You could only blink in awe and confusion, your hands trembling. Your cupboards were full of someone else's time money and effort. The most anyone has every done for you.

'Go thank them you idiot! Be polite.' Your manners snarled at you. The thought hit you in the face. You twitched and raced across the hall.

"Sargent Barnes! Captain Rogers! Open this door. Right now." You knocked frantically. You had a second to be thankful for the lack of neighbors. "Captain! Sargent!" You knock again.

Steve throws the door open, eyes wide. "Y/N! what is wrong? Are you okay? Do you need help?" Steve questioned. You pushed your way inside, ignoring his questions and muttered invitation.

"Where is the Sargent?" You ask. You turned in a slow circle, gaze never settling-searching.

"I'm right here, doll. Everything okay?" Bucky came out of the bathroom in only sweats, leaving his Wakandian arm on display. He was wiping away the shaving cream on his face but missed a spot by his ear. You quickly moved on, not wanting to lose you determination.

"Is Mr. Stark here? I would like if he was." You kept searching, trying to squash your nerves.

"Yes, for exactly one minute. Who is asking?" A man you could only assume was Mr. Anthony Edward Stark came out of Steve's room, thumbing at his phone.

"My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a nurse at Mercy Hospital. Mr. Stark, I want to thank you for helping these two men dote on me last night. It wasn't needed at all. But I greatly appreciate it." You looked at the other two men in the room. "I woke up to a spotless apartment, and more food then I will eat in a month probably. I-No one has ever stepped up to help me. No one has ever surprised me before with anything, let alone groceries. Honestly, Life is overwhelming and my coping mechanism is to work and work and work, then when I take a breath, I am lost. I have absolutely no idea how to thank you." You paused to blink quickly and sniff. "I can only offer myself. If you need a person for anything, a medical emergency, or an extra player for game night, or a warm ear to ramble to, I will be there." You made eye contact with the Captain and Sargent. Your pause made Tony look up for a half a second. "My door is always open and my coffee pot is always ready." You grew embarrassed by your heartfelt declaration, fidgeting with your hands.

"My, dear. A friend of Frostbite's and Capsicle, is definitely a friend of mine. Now you are positive about refusing F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony for the first time since he came out of Steve's room made full eye contact.

You waved your hands in front of you. "Mr. Stark, No. I am just a nurse. You have much bigger fish to fry than a nurse who doesn't know when to quit." You rejected his offer politely.

"Very well. But if I or they deem it necessary then you lose. They scare me more than you." Tony grinned and shot you a saucy wink. "Now, boys and girl, some of us have day jobs. Chao." Tony waved at the soldiers and headed out. Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes shouted their goodbyes just as the door shut.

You and Sargent Barnes turn simultaneously to look at Captain Rogers who was looked over from where he was staring at the door. "No. Absolutely not. Drop it. He helped last night a lot. We talked a lot about the girl-across-the-hall and then I sent him to sleep in my bed. God only know when he saw on last." Captain Rogers tried to end the discussion before it began. He pointed a finger authoritatively before stalking towards the kitchen.

"Yes, dad." You and Sargent Barnes chorused. Captain Rogers began getting things around for breakfast. Sargent Barnes joining him.

"Y/N, any interest in joining us for brunch?" Sargent Barnes offered. Captain Rogers smiled and nodded in agreement. You looked around, the facts settling in causing you embarrassment and anxiety. You had just barged into their apartment after demanding them to let you in to thank them aggressively for being so caring and thoughtful.

"Um. No. I think this is my cue to go, Sargent. Captain, sorry to ruin your morning. I don't want to impose or over-stay my welcome." You shake your head. Sargent Barnes glances over at you from where he is putting plates at the kitchen island.

"Y/N, I though we talked about this. I am Bucky, James is you must. And he is Steve, Steven if you must. We are friends, family. You don't have to be so formal. Relax a little." Bucky reminded you. You nodded once a jerky motion. Bucky and Steve could see your growing uneasiness. The looked at each other, in their moment of distraction you took a slow measured step backwards. You pushed down the feeling that you were running away, you would rather avoid any confrontation about your impulsivity. One step turned into two and two turned into three. Finally you could feel your fingers brush the doorknob.

" Bucky stepped in front of you, wanting to squash any miscommunication. His broad bare chest took up your entire field of vision. You were eye level with his collarbones. His scent of sage, cedar and sandalwood made your mouth water. You forced your gaze up higher and higher past his neck and jaw and lips to lock onto his steel-blue eyes. You felt warm and flushed, obviously your extended exposure to these men was not helping you build immunity to their looks as you thought. Bucky's eyes twinkled with mischief and you hoped he didn't know what reactions he caused you. But you knew he probably had some awareness about it with his enhanced senses. 'Can he see my pupils dilate? can he hear my heartrate pick up? My breathing? Can he smell my arousal?'

"Doll, we did that stuff as a thank you and an assurance that you are taken care of. You make my nights better just by knowing you are around. You accepted having Captain America and the Winter Solider leaving across the hall from you without even batting an eye. You just welcomed us into your life like it was no big deal. You reminded us what it means to be normal, and that means the word to me. We-I wanted to do this because you are the most important person to me. Maybe except Stevie over there." Bucky was rubbing your upper arms like he couldn't help but touch you, to push his thoughts into you, make you hear him, understand him.

"But yesterday, you risked your life to save me. Neither of you had any idea the fire was small. Then you fixed my door. Then you decided to provide me with at least a month maybe even more than that worth of food. And you expect nothing in return? I owe you." You tried to argue. Bucky was shaking his head before you even finished.

"Nope. You think we would let you sleep through a fire alarm? That is ridiculous. You could barely walk that morning. The door thing was just manners. and providing for you? That is just to help my state of mind. I won't worry about you so much. I know that you work too much and care for yourself too little. I can't not help. So you have no argument points." He flashed you a toothy smile, trying to relax you.

"Okay then, I guess I should just accept my fate as your girl. Not a bad thing, being Sargent Barnes' girl." You smile at him. "Captain, three eggs sunny side up! Please." You toss over Bucky's shoulder. If you thought you had seen Bucky happy before, it had nothing on the mega-watt smile he was wearing now. His eyes were bright and twinkling, teeth showing, you could even see dimples. You next breath was a half second late-snagged in your throat.

"My girl. That is right. Glad you have come to accept it." He laughed lightly before letting you go. You decidedly did not miss his warmth as the two of you went to sit at the island while Steve made you breakfast.

"Captain, may I ask something of you?" You looked up as Bucky slid you a coffee made exactly the way you like it. Steve hummed while poking at your eggs.

Please ask Mr. Stark out, This is getting sad. Take him to dinner, or coffee. I am not saying drop to one knee-"You stopped at Steve spluttered at you handing over your eggs. You dug in with gusto, needed to get ready for work. "People as smart as him, they need outlets. The need someone to listen as they ramble and talk for the sake of talking. People like him, get shut down a lot. No one wants to listen to the genius rant about something over their heads, they are seen as annoying or snooty. They get shut down a lot. They get easily ignored. Sometimes just having someone listen to them is enough to make a connection." You stood up and rinsed your plate putting it in the dishwasher. "If I may be so bold, you have been given two people to love. Do not squander your second chance." You patted his shoulder and upon seeing what time it was gasped. "I have to go. I am scheduled till 3am, hopefully. Bye Steve! Bye Bucky!" The sound of the door shutting and your dishes in the dishwasher was the only sign that you were there at all.

Bucky blinked at the now closed door and tucked back into his food. He shot a glance to Steve every few minutes. 'Battle plans in nanoseconds but working out feelings will take 7-10 business days.' "Steve, I know you have to rethink every interaction you have had with Tony but we also have to go to the compound later for our classes." Bucky gently reminded his best friend. Steve nodded and hummed in agreement. Bucky just rolled his eyes and began tidying up the apartment.

A few days have passed since your impromptu breakfast with the two super-soldiers. Your bosses had spoken to you about 6 12 hour days rather than 5 8 hour days this week. You gladly accepted because with 32 hours of overtime and each 4 hour shift being 100 cash bonus. Your bills would be paid easily.

'Especially with all those groceries the boys got for me.' You were getting ready for your fourth 12 hour day with some hesitation. You worked a 'catch all' unit, and lately it has been rough goings. The ICU and Med-Surg units had been busy so you had some hard patients to deal with, tracheostomies and chest tubes and packing wounds and IVs and...and...and...You were getting tired. Being the most senior nurse on the floor for the evening shift you had to help the others a lot. Which was fine for you, nursing is a team-effort after all, didn't make you less tired though. Honestly, the long hours helped with that, you knew everything you needed to know, working on muscle memory to get through parts of your shift.

You knew just in the four days you had lost weight, you didn't have time to eat during your shifts, relying on water to keep you going. you were barely think straight as you left your apartment. You stumbled out of the door, drinking a protein shake, cursing yourself vividly. You were going to be late at this rate. You swung your bag hard onto your shoulder not registering the slight resistance it meet. You were busy locking your door and mentally checking your pockets.

"Not even going to apologize for assaulting me with your bag?" A gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Hmm. Sorry, my bad." You tossed over your shoulder having decided you were good to go. You turned around to see Sargent Barnes beside you. "Sargent Barnes! How are you? I've missed you lately. Been busy at work, the both of us." You said, grinning up at him.

"Hello, Y/N. Nice to see you too. We were working at the compound, Avenger-ing has been keeping us on our toes. But we both are okay. Now, are you going to apologize to me properly?" Bucky leaned against the wall next to your door, arms loosely crossed, eyes fixed on your face. He could see the weight loss in your face-cheeks gaunt-eyes dull and glazy, bags large and dark purple.

Your face scrunched up in confusion for a moment before clearing. "It was you? I'm sorry. I am bit in the clouds, I am on day four of 6 12's. It isn't easy right now, census is high on the floor. are you hurt?" You swiftly began running your fingers over his chest and shoulders and arms trying to discern any injury.

"Now, doll, as much as I would love to sit here and have you touch me all day. I can promise ya, that little tap from your bag ain't gonna hurt me. Now, are you eating okay? Do you have a decent lunch packed? What about water?" Bucky was quick to turn the mother hen card on you. He couldn't handle you touching him so innocently so suddenly.

You stepped back, warmth coloring your cheeks. "I think I am late. I am going to leave instead of disappointing you with my answers. you continued backing up not looking away from Bucky and him not looking away from you.

"Y/N, you need to take care of yourself. I can see you lost weight just in these few days." Bucky lectured. You sent him a small smile.

"Bucky, thank you. For caring, I promise, I am fine. This isn't the first time this has happened. I eat a bit, but too much stress caffeine and sleep deprivation leads to limited appetites. I don't have that much time to eat when I am on shift anyway. I do have to go though. Tell everyone I said 'Hi!'. Text me, we'll hang out. You darted into the elevator and were gone in seconds.

Bucky sighed deeply and reached his hand into his hair and gave it a good yank out of frustration. You were ignoring your bodily needs again. He also couldn't shake the sensation of your fingertips slipping over his clothes. You hadn't even batted an eye at touching his left arm. His arm hadn't been a source of insecurities for a while now, but it always caught him off guard when someone accepted it with no thoughts. He entered his and Steve's apartment obviously distracted.

"Bucky, you're back. What took so long?" Steve asked. He had a smirk curling in the corner of his mouth.

"You know what stopped me. Y/N did. She was leaving for work. we chatted a bit and she left." Bucky didn't want to tell Steve how the conversation went. It was between you and him. He could tell the two of you were getting closer and didn't want to jeopardize that with Steve's input. Bucky also knew that Steve knew you two had talked, even if he didn't listen in-he had to have heard you.

Bucky heading into his room to change out of his jeans and into sweats. They had no where to go and nothing to do. Bucky got settled in the living room, him and Steve discussing you and their jobs and which item on the List they would check out today. "I am going to do something for her. Maybe bring her some lunch later?" Bucky mused. Steve voiced his agreement, Bucky got to planning.

You went to work. You dashed from room to room to room, changing tubes and dressing and passing medications. You only sat twice; once to go to the bathroom and once to chug a whole bottle of water. Evenings were always busy, you tried to help the other nurses and your aides as much as possible but with the intensity of the level of care right now, it took everything you had to do your job. Finally after several nonstop hours you could take a breather. you were tired and dehydrated and nauseous. It was almost nine and you still had 6 more hours. You still had to chart and begin the discharges for tomorrow-two pleasantly confused fall victims from a local nursing home. Tank goodness, you were here for a few more hours.

You had killed 3 hours with paperwork, You were pointedly ignoring the clock, you had a feeling that it wouldn't be telling you good news. That minute your supervisor walked up to the desk with an apologetic look on her face. You signed and nodded. "What is 4 more hours. I'll stay. However, this is getting old. She isn't showing up for the extra hours she should be stopped from getting them. I know for a fact Annabelle needs some OT. Ask her maybe?"

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind and shoot an email. It's another $100." He shrugged before walking away. You heaved a sigh and darted off for more coffee.

6:30 AM, light turning on made you jump. To help everyone almost all  the lights on your floor turned off, pardon some recess lighting in the ceiling. The housekeeping and Dietary staff were doing their rounds. The sight of disgruntled, coffee-sucking, barely-awake people gave you hope that your bed was soon coming. You were so patient, waiting at the desk for your relief to come in. You had been pushing back tears for several hours now. You had the entire unit to yourself and 4 aides. three people had fallen and one ripped their stitches open. You had completely checked out, staring blankly and bleary-eyed at your computer screen, waiting for the blessed phrase-

"Good Morning!" The chipper voice jerked you out of your fugue state. You blinked and blinked again. There sitting so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed was your relief. Sarah was a pleasant morning person type. "Another 16? Y/N, you must be crazy. You'll kill yourself at this point."

You waved off her concern. "Nope, just broke. I have bills to pay. My rent isn't cheap. Anyway, what beds? I had em all." You grabbed your report sheet, hoping you can read it.

Sarah told you who had what beds. You could see concern still lingering in her eyes. "I can't believe the whole unit was yours."

"Yeah, Beth called off and Jude was pulled to another unit. They know I can handle it. I take it and do okay. My fingers are ready to fall off and it was a terrible night." You two waited for the last nurses to come in and you quickly handed off your patients, "Good thing about all the hours? Report is quick. See you at three." You gathered your things and booked it out of the hospital.

You got in the elevator and shook off your tiredness to make it to your place. Your place, where the door was ajar, but not broken, and you could here two familiar voices arguing.

"I have no idea. What did she say yesterday?" The first voice said, higher pitch than the other, Steve.

"She said day 4 of 6 12's. It has been longer than that! Something could be wrong. Something could have happened. She could be hurt, Steve. This voice was deeper and gruff, steady but stress had it cracking. Bucky.

Bucky, it's Y/N. She is a nurse. Sometimes emergencies happen. Did you try calling her?" Steve was as usual the voice of reason.

"Her phone goes to voicemail." Bucky sounded so lost and defeated. "If something happened...I can't...Steve." Bucky was trying to keep his composure. You couldn't really stomach these two wonderful men worrying about you to this level. You gently pushed the door open. "Well at least my door is still intact." At your comment the two super soldiers whipped to face you so fast your neck hurt.

"Y/N!" They chorused. Steve stepped closer, looking you over with a practiced eye. Bucky stepped right in front of you, reaching out and running his hands over your head and back and arms, checking for injury. You allowed it, not like you had a choice.

So what can I help you boys with?" You stripped off you shoes and bags, putting you lunch bag on the counter. You were so tired but didn't want to kick them out until they were satisfied with your safety.

Bucky watched as you put everything away, a sluggishness and lack of motor control telling him how tired you were. "You didn't come home when you said you were going to. I got worried. I know you are cautious and careful but other people aren't."

"Sorry my relief called off. I needed to stay. My phone died around 2. I didn't bring a charger." You explained. Bucky and Steve nodded. "It happens quite a bit." You muse aloud. "I will put your numbers in my bag somewhere..." You trailed off. Bucky knew you would forget this conversation even happened, so he would take care of it for you. 'Maybe Tony would give you a StarkPhone. As an added safety measure.'

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that you need to be kept updated." You said. Your petulant tone but them on edge.  Bucky pursed his lips. He and Steve knew that you had been alone a lot. You never felt that you had people to help support you.

"No. You don't need to ask us for permission. You can do what you want. I wanted to see you last night when you came home-or rather this morning. As your friend and neighbor, updates are nice but not necessary. I worry. That is all. I may have overreacted." Bucky said, he ran his hand through his hair.

"No. You aren't controlling me. You are asking as my friend to have me check in. I used to do it to my classmates and such in college. Nothing different. In your line of work a missed check in can be devastating. I should be more understanding. We are friends and neighbors, we need to communicate. I will try to do better." You sighed and smiled. You walked over to Bucky and pulled him into a tight embrace. Bucky froze for a millisecond and squeezed back, relishing in your warmth and softness. He pulled away and you took a step back to pull Steve into a similar embrace. "I am the luckiest gal in the world. To have you two caring after me." You looked between your guys.

"I'll try not to panic so quickly. Now, you have been up long enough, sweets. Why don't you head to bed? Steve has to head to SHEILD for a meeting. I was hoping that maybe I could--" Yu cut off Bucky before he could finish.

"Bed. Yes. Now. You? Stay, please? Bye, Stevie" You nodded once at the two men. Steve twitching at the nickname. "I don't mind you staying while I nap. I could use the company." Your end of the shift adrenaline was fading very fast, leaving you tired, unbalanced, and drained.

"Very well. Night, Y/N. See you two later." Steve headed out the door, locking it on his way out. Bucky pulled out a documentary to watch, and you headed to bed-stripping out of your scrubs before leaving Bucky's eyesight. In a flash averted his eyes, preserving your modesty.

After your nap you stumbled out of bed and paused looking between the bathroom and the kitchen. You weren't sure where you wanted to go first.

"Afternoon. I wanted to thank you." Bucky interrupted your debate.

"Thank me for what?" You answered, mentally shrugging off your shower until you were done talking.

"Not many people like me. Even at work. You accepted me wholly. Thank you for that. You have been there through a lot. MY rehabilitation and acclimation. I am glad Steve and I found you." Bucky sent a grin at you from the kitchen. Just like the last time it made your breath catch in your throat. He was so unbelievably handsome. You had always know that from an academic standpoint but lately, it was haunting every interaction you had with him.

Sargent Barnes, Bucky, I am glad you found me too. My family-we don't get along well. Even less so since I decided to move to New York and go to school and get into healthcare. I like to think I don't need anyone but no one should be alone. Not a workaholic nurse or a 100 year old human experiment volunteer, or a victim of 7 decades of torture and evil brainwashing or a multi-billionaire CEO. I want to help people heal mentally, emotionally, physically. People include you and the others and everyone else." You were steady. You peered at him, like you could see every thought and insecurity that passed through his head and were going to single handedly rip them out and stomp on them.

Bucky froze at your earnest declaration. He tuned to you, his pulse quickened in his chest. He knew he was supposed to answer you but he was still processing your words. You in one statement made him feel like he deserved to be here. He knew he was far from healed but he was doing better than ever and it was thanks to you and your unconditional love for him and Steve and people. A love he would spend every day being thankful for. 'I am in love with you,' He thought, desperate. You loved him enough to see through him, and his monstrous past. He decided then and there he would make you see how much he loved you.

You saw Bucky hesitate and decided to end the conversation, seeing it was making him uncomfortable, or so you assumed. "Did you finish Blue Planet? Also I need to shower. I have another 12 hour shift that will probably become a 16 hour shift. So I won't be home until 3 or 7 in the morning. You began hurrying around your apartment gathering your gear and clothes for the day.

“I did. I loved it. The ocean is so scary but cool at the same time. How was your nap? Hurry and shower, I will pack your lunch and make a grilled cheese." Bucky nudged you towards the bathroom. It was all sickeningly domestic and you didn't want to think those thoughts too much.

"Great. I will need some coffee and I will be good to go. A girl could get used to all this constant providing and coddling." You laughed and shut the bathroom door.

"Anything for you, doll. Anything for you." Bucky murmured before starting on lunch for the two of you.

You flew through your shower before sitting down and wolfing down a sandwich and chasing it with coffee made exactly how you like it. "I am going to be late." You raced around gathering your lunch bag and work bag trying to put your shoes on at the same time. "Bye, Sargent Barnes. See you tomorrow." Yu slammed the door shut, thoughts of how much Bucky was growing to mean to you swirling through your head-distracting you. You mad it three steps  when Bucky opened your door.

"Y/N! Your keys and name tag!" He yelled at your back. You turned around and snatched them from his hand. Functioning on sleep deprivation and coffee and adrenaline, you stretched up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek "Thanks, hun." And you were gone. Bucky blinked at you but you had already vanished. He placed his fingertips where your lips just were and smiled. He knew that you didn’t mean it but that didn’t mean he would treasure the feel of you lips on his cheek.

The day passed slowly. You came back after your 8 hours off to find several people were discharged and no one was scheduled to come in today. To pass the time you texted Bucky some of the things your pleasantly confused geriatric patients were saying to you. You texted him about some frustrations with healthcare. He answered every message, actively listening and giving support. You texted him to tell him an aide came in with a possible flu case and didn't wear a mask cause "She didn't feel that sick". With her sick you needed to pick up the rest of your week 11-7 for aide shifts. However, your boss's boss came down and gave you an extended weekend and another $500 in bonuses.

"She is absolutely crazy. Crazy I tell you." Bucky said. Steve looked up from them book he was reading.

"What is she on trouble?" Steve asked. Bucky shook his head. He and Steve had talked about what had happened before she left for work. Bucky knew that Steve would be supportive, had been pushing for this for a while. But Bucky was nervous, he was going to take this slow. It wasn't anything he wanted to rush. He had waited this long, he could be patient.

"she has to do more 16 hour shifts cause someone came in possibly with the flu. She has been busier than usual on the floor and hasn't been eating. I can practically smell the caffeine in her blood." Bucky ranted. He had decided the other day to tell Steve what had been happening between the two of you. Bucky hadn't been one to keep things from Steve and he wasn't going to start now. He also could use another perspective. Steve agreed with his slow and steady method for now.

Steve smiled into his book. Since Bucky admitted his feelings to himself, his mother hen instinct was honed in on you with a vengeance. It was a nice turn of pace from it being honed in on him. "Oh, poor Y/N. Well, she'll come to us if she needs us. Now let her work. Us and Sam and Nat were going to lunch remember." Steve put away his book and swatted at his friend's head.

The next few days passed in a similar manner. You stumbled home at 8-ish to collapse promptly in your bed and sleep until it was time to get up for your next shift. You were tired. Tired down to your toes. Every day though Bucky was in your place working on lunch and coffee. You were in awe. No one had ever been around to help with your workaholic tendencies got the better of you. Bucky helped keep you fueled with more than willpower and sugar. He helped keep you healthy. The last 5 days had been spent working 16 hour shifts and on one memorable occasion 20 hours. This was the most you worked in recent months and the least amount of staffing.

However tired to you were it finally came- you day off. Finally you achieved your first day off out of the 3 that were given to you by your floor's  supervisor. You had worked 20 hours to get to this moment and you could cry you were so tired. The world was fuzzy around the edges but moved too fast to track. You jaw felt loose and you were positive you had been drooling at one point. You tongue was heavy and clumsy. The few words you tired came out broken and slurred. You were wheezing, unable to catch your breath. You were shivering constantly even though you felt warm. You stomach rolled violently anytime to paused to catch your breath. You were at the elevator-waiting to go up. You could see your reflection, you hair stood up all over, you panted trying to keep from puking and passing out in turn. You had a gray tinged to your skin. 'Amy did come in sick. Could I have caught it?'

The elevator opened on your floor with the super soldiers. You dug out your keys and the bight red one caught your eye as it reflected the light.. Th last time you were tired to this point you had slept through a fire. You stepped down the hall, still thinking if you should use it.

In Bucky and Steve's apartment, they and Sam and Natasha and Clint and Wanda and Pietro were enjoying lunch and some board games. Bucky was looking at his phone every 5 minutes.

"Dude, what are you waiting for?" Sam asked.

"Y/N. She has worked a lot this week, 4 16 hour days and one 20 hour day. She is supposed to be home already, for her weekend off. She's usually back round 8. it is past noon. She isn't doing great. I am worried." Bucky spoke to his phone willing it to vibrate with a text.

"Bucky, your girl is fine. She's tired. Probably home asleep already. She is a nurse, give her credit." Natasha said.

"I know. But she isn't mine. I love her, but she isn't used to attention. I don't want to scare her off. Anyway, I am going to start lunch.

Bucky stood up and everyone froze to the sound of a key in the lock.

"Steve! She is coming here?! Quick! Make some room on the couch!" Bucky and Steve jumped up. Steve clearing a path to the couch to prevent you tripping. And Bucky pulled out a shirt and sweats for you to wear and grabbing his pillow and a small blanket for you to use on the couch. He knew you would pass out instantly.

They finished just as their door swung open.

Masterlist // Previous // Next

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So? Longer chapter, I know it is seeming to rush here but I promise I fixed the pacing in the next chapter. I wrote most of this sleep-deprived in the small hours of my own 16 hour shifts.

[creampuffqueen]

Worlds of Fire and Darkness | Chapter Fourteen (Lyria, Rygan, Sam)

Read this on Ao3! (Here) Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Things get slightly nsfw in the first part, so be prepared for that. Also, Lyria and Folas’s song is Into You by Ariana Grande, Sam and Rygan’s song is Lucky by Jason Mraz. The lyrics for the Ballad of Terrasen are from the song by Inquillery on youtube! It’s so amazing, I definitely recommend listening to it while reading Rygan’s POV!

The long awaited Peace Ball is held, but things don’t go exactly as planned.

Lyria POV

“Folas, I need to get up.” Even annoyed, I couldn’t keep the stupid dopey smile off my face. The curtains were drawn, but the late afternoon sun still peeked through, pulling me from my sleep. 

The male in question rolled away from me, groaning his complaints. I was hit with a sudden rush of cold without his warmth, and I sat up, smiling at the goosebumps on my arms. 

“Do you really have to?” He asked, sighing below me. “Can’t you just stay here?”

“No, because the ball starts in a few hours. You don’t want to miss that, do you?” I grinned at him, bending down to kiss him swiftly. 

“I’ll miss it if it means I get to spend the night with you.” His purr was devious, and I rolled my eyes.

“You stayed here last night.”

“And I’ll do it again.” I snorted at that, but couldn’t resist another kiss. This one lingered, soft and sweet. 

When I pulled away, I waited for a moment, just watching him. Folas’s dark hair was mussed, and his tanned chest was above the blankets just enough for me to admire. 

It had been three days since our first kiss, and a whirlwind three days at that. After our fight that first night, I’d spent nearly the whole next day apologizing, even after Folas had assured me it was fine. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, and I’d lashed out at him unreasonably.

And that next night… I’d made it up to him, properly. He hadn’t made it back to his own room afterwards. Whether he even tried to was questionable, but I wasn’t complaining. 

I finally managed to pull myself away and get off the bed, and grabbed a dressing gown from the chair at my vanity. I pulled it on, relishing its cozy warmth.

“I need a bath, Folas. And you probably do, too.” While we had just woken up from a nap, we’d spent the hours before it rolling in each other’s scents, and the room was pungent with the smell of us.

“Besides,” I continued, “My friends are all coming here to get ready together. If you stay, you’ll have to listen to Asceline making fun of you the whole time.”

At that, Folas groaned loudly and rolled out of bed. I didn’t bother to hide my gaze traveling along his body, and he just smirked at me.

“Like what you see, princess?” He purred.

“Oh, you know I do. But alas, we don’t have time.” I still walked towards him, though, drawn to him by some magnetic force. 

Folas pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. He leaned in and gave me another kiss on the lips, but I pushed him gently away before he could take it further.

“C’mon, let’s hurry up.” I urged. “The other females will be here soon, and I want to be cleaned up by then.”

Folas gathered his clothes and pulled them on, giving me one last kiss before he left. I resisted the urge to lean into him, to tangle my fingers in his hair and drag him back to bed. We’d already spent far too much time alone as it was, and I was sure my parents and family were onto us. 

After he was gone, I drew a cold bath, using the frigid water to wake myself up properly. I didn’t even bother using my usual soaps and bath oils, instead just taking a few minutes to scrub my body and hair until they gleamed.

I toweled off, though I used my powers to dry my hair and curl it. I had just pulled on a petticoat and a robe when a loud knock sounded on my suite door.

“Come in!” I called, opening up my wardrobe to find the dress I wanted to wear. 

It was Asceline at the door, as expected, and my cousin breezed inside, her dress in a bag that she threw onto my bed.

“Really, Lyria,” She sighed, “You can’t bother to clean up this room even a little? So we don’t all have to smell what’s been going on in here? Aren’t your little sisters coming in here, too?”

“Calm down, Ash.” I said, rolling my eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s very bad. This entire room smells like sex.” She grabbed a bottle of my perfume off my vanity and sprayed it at me, grinning when I coughed.

“While I’m glad that you and loverboy have finally stopped being dumb about your feelings for each other, you don’t have to shove it in all of our faces.” Asceline spritzed some of my perfume on herself.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t get to say anything.” I laughed, taking the bottle from her and applying it to my neck and wrists. “You are totally acting stupid around Leo and won’t admit your feelings to him.”

My cousin smacked me lightly in the side, though she couldn’t hold a glare. “This is not about me and Leo.”

“What’s not about you and Leo?” I nearly jumped out of my skin as I saw Rose appear in the doorway. Despite the fact she was as human as could be, she’d perfected the Fae art of being completely silent.

“Nothing.” Asceline said defensively. She turned back to the bed, crinkling her nose as she took in the rumpled sheets.

“Look at my dress!” Rose giggled, ignoring Asceline. She held it up so we could all see, and my breath was nearly taken away by the beauty of it. 

It was floor-length, like most of our dresses, and made of flowing white tulle. However, the bodice was a deep purple, and the color lightened to a pale lavender as it traveled down the dress in an ombre pattern. The sleeves were off the shoulder, made of creamy white silk.

“You’re going to look stunning in that.” I grinned. Rose beamed, and set the dress down on the bed next to Asceline’s. 

The witches arrived next, Aris and Nysa squabbling as usual. 

“Nysa, you can’t wear that.” Aris snapped to her sister. “You’re barely sixteen-”

“Yes, and at least I’ve got a boyfriend to admire me in it.” Nysa growled. “If I want to show off, that’s my business.”

“Both of you shut up.” Kerrigan said, rolling her eyes. “Nysa doesn’t have another dress to wear, anyway.”

“Stay out of this.” Aris and Nysa snapped in unison, then turned their glares back to each other as the fighting continued.

“All of you hush!” I interjected, pushing between the sisters. “Nysa, show me your dress. I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful, but far too revealing.” Aris protested. “I don’t want my little sister walking around in that.”

Nysa snarled at Aris, then pulled her dress out of its bag to show me. It was bright red and made of silk, with thin straps that held it up- and a large slit that would obviously go from ankle to thigh when she wore it. 

“She’s fine.” I decided. “And like Kerrigan said, there’s not another dress here for her anyway.”

“See!” Kerrigan shouted, glaring at her older sisters. “I do know things, you know.”

Both of them rolled their eyes and continued to ignore their little sister. Aris showed us her dress, a pale blue thing that sparkled in the light. We oohed and ahhed over it, then were distracted when more people showed up.

Soon enough, my room was full of people. The girls from Anielle, from the Southern Continent, from Briarcliff. Even my own little sisters arrived, forgoing getting their hair done by our mother to spend time with all the older females. 

Besides, our mother would be getting ready herself. Or taking care of Fleetfoot.

For the past three days the dog had been living the high life. Hand-cooked meals three times a day, brought to her on a silver platter, a plush bed near the fire, walks through the flower garden every time she needed to go outside- the dog was spoiled to the heavens.

“Lyria, can you do my hair, please?” Evalin chirped. “I want it in a bun, just like Asceline has.”

My cousin was finishing with her braided bun, tongue stuck out as she focused. She’d managed to rope Giselle into holding all of her supplies, and the girl looked absolutely miserable.

“Come here.” Evalin sat on my lap on the bed as I brushed out her long, silvery hair, while Aerith tugged on Amelie’s dress until she turned around to see her.

“Can you please help me do my hair?” Aerith begged, making sure to speak slowly and clearly, so Amelie could read her lips. The older girl nodded, taking my littlest sister over to my vanity.

All around, the room was bustling with activity as people got ready for the ball. Words flew past, snagging me into different conversations as I fixed Evalin’s hair.

“Aris, can you zip up my dress?”

“Gods, I’m so bad at braiding- Asceline, can you help me fix this?”

“Teagan, will you pass me that khol when you’re done?”

I tied Evalin’s bun and fluffed it with the comb, sending my little sister off to get her dress. Seeing nobody else needed my help, I finally got up to get my own dress. 

I had hung it on my bathroom door earlier and now the sewn-on sequins were sparkling in the candlelight as the sun slowly dipped towards the horizon. It was Terrasen green, like most of my dresses, smooth and silky fabric that felt wonderful beneath my fingers. 

“Lyria, your dress is so pretty.” Asceline purred, prancing up beside me to rest her head on my shoulder. My cousin’s golden hair was the same shade as my own, one of the only physical traits we shared. 

While Asceline was a shifter and could therefore make herself look however she pleased, she usually didn’t. Sometimes she changed the color of her hair or eyes, or gave herself Fae ears to hear better, but that was the extent of changing her human form. My cousin loved herself, curves and and weird birthmarks and all. 

I smiled at Asceline and pulled the dress down from the door, unzipping the back so I could slip inside. 

Shucking off the robe, since I had my petticoat on beneath, I let my younger cousin hold me steady so I could step inside the deep green dress. 

I had one foot in when Asceline suddenly took her hands off me and put them on my shoulders, surprise written all over her face. Without her keeping me upright, I toppled over so fast I almost didn’t hear her shout.

“Why do you have bite marks on you?!” she shrieked, as I lay on the floor with my feet tangled in my dress. I could feel the stares of all the other girls turning toward me.

“Okay, you don’t have to yell about it-” I snarled, trying to slip out of the green fabric to put my dress on properly. Asceline made no move to help me up, and instead I hauled myself up using one of the posts on my bed.

I could see my cousin putting two and two together- the mussed bedsheets, the scent, the marks. When her Ashryver eyes returned to me, they were unreadable.

“Lyria, did you let Folas do that?” She asked softly. I bared my teeth in a snarl as I pulled my dress off the floor. 

“What does it matter to you? It’s my body.” I hissed. The room was very quiet as my cousin and I stared each other down. I prayed that somebody had gotten my little sisters away so they didn’t have to witness the arguement I knew was coming. 

“Lyr, I know, it’s just-” I cut Asceline off with a growl.

“You don’t get to decide what I do with my own body.” I stepped inside my dress and pulled it up, managing to stay upright by some miracle or another. Asceline moved forward, as if to help me zip up the back, but I pulled away with a glare.

“Lyria.” My cousin begged. “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt. You’re rushing into all of this too fast.”

“Like you would know.” I snapped. I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, watching as Asceline’s face fell and silver began to line her eyes. 

“Asceline-”

“Save it.” My cousin whimpered. “You’re right, anyway.” She wiped furiously at her eyes, turning away from me. 

I pulled the sleeves of my dress up and over my shoulders, keeping the bodice up and not sagging until I could get it zipped. When I looked up, only seconds later, Asceline had disappeared. 

Leaving a glaring Evalin in her wake. 

My little sister met my gaze with the heat of a thousand fires, her Ashryver eyes, so much like Asceline’s, furious.

“Lyria, you can be a real bitch sometimes.” Before I could scold her for swearing, Evalin had transformed in a flash of light, her peregrine falcon form flying for the window that someone had left open. 

I cursed my stupid big mouth as I stomped towards my vanity, grabbing the small jar of foundation and slathering it liberally on my neck, too furious at myself and my family members to care it was getting dangerously close to my neckline. 

It was only when a pair of soft, delicate hands wrapped around my wrists that I finally glanced up. Amelie.

She didn’t sign to me, or try to make any kind of communication. Instead, she gently pulled my hands away from my body, took a cloth towel from my vanity, and gently dabbed away the foundation to make it look natural again.  

When I turned back to the others, my composure slightly regained, I found almost all eyes on me.

“What are you looking at?” I snapped, before letting out a loud sigh. My temper was getting the best of me, and I was being unfair. This wasn’t their fault, it was mine.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” Aris assured me. “You two are family, you can’t be upset with each other forever.”

However, with the way Nysa was glaring at her sister, I wasn’t so sure. 

“Lyria, I got your shoes.” I peered down at Aerith, holding up a pair of silvery flats for me. I squatted down to her level, taking the shoes and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you.” I breathed. I stood up and slipped them on, managing to keep my balance long enough to fasten the buckles at the ankle. I was sure that by the end of the night I would be barefoot, but for now, before everyone was drunk, I would appear as the prim and proper princess. 

My little sister held out her arm, and we linked elbows. Her silver hair was in a half-up style, using the short hair she had. Aerith and Thallan had always cut their hair at their shoulders, meaning it was almost impossible to tell them apart by just a glance. 

“Asceline will be back.” Aerith assured me. “She won’t want to miss the ball.”

“I know she’ll come back.” I said softly. “I’m just worried she won’t let me talk to her and apologize.”

“Stop worrying.” Aerith insisted, sounding so much like our mother it took my breath away. “Let’s go and have fun, Lyria.”

The other girls were whispering behind me. I didn’t know what they were saying, if it was good or bad. But I found myself not caring. 

“You have to teach me the dance steps, okay?” My little sister said. “Because Thallan won’t learn them with me.”

“I will.” I promised. 

Aerith held out her pinky to me. So I reached over and linked my own. A pinky promise, the unbreakable sibling promise.

With that, my little sister grinned merrily and hauled me out of the room, the rest of the girls soon following as we made our way to the Great Hall.

Ready for the 20th Annual Peace Ball. 

~~~~

The Great Hall normally felt large, but tonight it felt even bigger than usual. The chandeliers were all lit, the decorations were set up, and tables and tables of food were laid out right before us. All set before the wooden thrones on the raised dias. 

My parents were the only ones inside the hall, slow dancing to music only they could hear. The musicians had yet to set up, and the only other living soul in the room was Fleetfoot, napping in my mother’s throne atop a plush blanket.

I almost felt bad about going inside, as if I was ruining their moment. But Aerith tugged me forward, then raced over to our parents and practically threw herself at our father’s arms.

“Aerith!” Rowan boomed, catching my sister effortlessly. He held her on his hip, like when she was a toddler, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Hello, Mama.” I smiled, greeting my mother with a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, Papa.”

“Hello to you, too, my beautiful girls.” Mother laughed. “Are you ready for the ball?”

“I’m ready for dinner!” Aerith giggled. Rowan smiled at that, giving her another kiss on her head. 

Slowly, guests started to trickle in; the early arrivers. Most of the girls who had been in my room to get ready were there.

Though I noticed that Evalin and Asceline were still missing. Neither of my parents noticed, as all of my brothers were still absent. Why, I would never know. They hardly had anything to do to get ready!

I watched the musicians take their place and start setting up their instruments, while last-minute trays of food were brought up from the bustling kitchen. 

When we were little, our punishments for acting up always consisted of helping out in the kitchen. Usually washing dishes. I always hated it down there, with the hustle and bustle and chaoticness. But Sam, always my opposite, would go downstairs to help on his own.

And as if my thoughts had summoned him, Sam appeared at the entrance of the Great Hall just as the music started. Aspen and Thallan were with them, meaning that only Evalin was missing now.

Glancing around nervously, I subconsciously began to chew on my manicured fingernails, only stopping when Aerith tugged on my dress. 

And then, my mother spoke the words I’d been dreading.

“Lyria, Aerith, where’s Evalin? Wasn’t she with you?”

Aerith glanced up at me, a silent question of whether she should answer or not. Looking between my mother and my baby sister, I slightly shook my head no.

“She’s in the bathing room still, Mama.” I let out a sigh of relief and turned away, scanning the Great Hall for a flash of my sister’s silvery hair. 

I spotted Nysa and Kerrigan easily, the two of them leaning casually against a wall and talking. Nysa’s red dress was tight around her abdomen, while one of her pale legs was on full display right up to her thigh.

More guests arrived, and I heard my mother snap her fingers to start dimming the lights. A few of the haughty old lords passed the Fae and witch arrivals with dirty looks, though they were largely ignored, as usual. 

Aedion and Lysandra arrived, Evangeline hot on their heels, hand in hand with Hazel Ironwood, Lord Ironwood’s eldest daughter. Three Ashryvers accounted for, one still missing. 

“Hey, you.” I flinched, whipping around, only to see Folas standing before me, grinning. I hadn’t even heard him approaching.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Don’t sound so excited to see me.” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes and punched him lightly in the arm.

But Folas grabbed my hand and twirled me away, and I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from my throat. When I regained my balance, he was there, kissing the back of my hand and looking at me in a way that made my face heat.

“Folas! Stop making out with my sister with your eyes!” Aspen shouted, pushing himself in between us. 

“Aspen!” I scolded. “Don’t be rude.”

My younger brother just stuck his tongue out at me.

“Very mature.” Folas commented, grinning in a way so I could see his pointed canines. My hand subconsciously went to the base of my neck, where the foundation covered the bite marks by those same teeth.

“Stop being gross, you two.” Now Sam was beside me as well, with a devious smirk that didn’t sit properly on his gentle features.

I pushed my way out of my crowd of siblings and onto the floor just as the music began to play. Folas trailed after me, his hand finding mine easily. 

It felt strange, to know that months ago, I’d lain awake with Asceline into the small hours of the night, just talking about Folas. And now, here he was, holding my hand, his marking on my body and mine on his. 

But- Asceline.

I cursed myself, over and over again, even as I kept a smile plastered on my features, for how stupid I’d been. My cousin was just looking out for me, and I’d pushed her away. Just like I had done to Folas days ago. 

“What’s wrong?” And there was Folas, more attuned to my emotions that I probably was. I shoved down the feeling of brushing him off, of claiming everything was fine when it most definitely wasn’t.

“Asceline and I got into a fight earlier.” I admitted. “And I said some nasty things, and she left. Evalin went after her, and neither of them are back yet.”

Folas’s dark eyes slide from my face to over my shoulder, his grin not fading in the slightest. I considered smacking him for not paying attention, but after a moment of consideration I turned around to see what had him so enraptured.

And a moment later I was so glad I did.

Because Asceline had returned, Evalin holding her hand. 

My cousin’s eyes were red and puffy, and her once perfect hair was coming undone slightly. But I didn’t think about any of that as I turned around and crushed her in a hug, tears welling up in my own eyes. 

“I’m so sorry!” I whimpered, pulling her to me as if I could somehow fuse her with myself. Asceline pulled away slightly, though still let me cling to her as she spoke. 

“No, Lyria, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have started anything with you. I was just worried for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She turned a glare on Folas. “I swear on all the gods, Lochan, if you hurt her I will flay you alive and feed you to my dogs.”

Folas gave her a dramatic shudder in answer. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Satisfied, I let my cousin free from my death grip so she could smooth her dress and fix her hair. Evalin had wandered off, and I spotted her over with my mother, getting food. 

“We’re all good.” Asceline finished. “You two go dance, okay? I’ll see you later.” She walked away, soon falling in with her family. I watched from afar as Evangeline and Hazel wrapped her in a hug, likely cooing over her dress.

Folas’s thumb caressed the back of my hand, prompting me to look back at him.

“What?”

“You heard what Ashy said. Let’s go dance.”

“It’s tradition for the King and Queen to do the first dance during balls.” I told him. Nobody was dancing yet, all waiting for when my parents would emerge. Though my mother always told everyone not to wait, the people always did, anyway.

“Well, you’re their future queen, so it can’t be that much different, can it?” Folas joked. He tugged my hand, like a petulant child dragging their parent over to a sweet shop. Even so, I found myself unable to resist his smile. 

So I let him drag me onto the dance floor, grinning wildly as he twirled me around and around and around. 

Laughter bubbled up from my throat, my heart beating rapidly as Folas led me through a dance, his own smile matching my own.

I let my power flow through me, sparks and embers floating around us, a crown of flames flickering over my own head. 

The music continued, and more and more gazes turned towards us, watching as the Crown Princess of Terrasen opened up the Peace Ball for the first time, the future Lord of Perranth serving as my partner. I could feel their stares on us, but looking at the embers reflecting in Folas’s dark eyes, I suddenly found I didn’t care.

The song faded into nothing, and Folas finished strong, dipping me so suddenly sparks erupted around us. His lips met mine in a brief kiss that left my lips tingling, before twirling me away one last time, throwing his hands in the air.

I took half a second to catch my breath, before I raised my hand and linked it with his. 

“Welcome to the Peace Ball!” I said to the crowd, letting my bits of summoned fire dissipate into smoke. All around us, it was silent, for just a moment.

Then the clapping started. 

From Asceline, grinning madly at the front of the crowd. Evangeline and Hazel following, my aunt Lysandra and uncle Aedion only a split second behind. And then the rest of the room erupted into cheering, people smiling ear to ear, clapping so hard the sound filled the room.

And from her dias, standing next to her throne and petting Fleetfoot, my mother cheered, letting out a raucous whistle into the crowd that had me beaming. 

The music started up again, a loud peppy song, and I watched as couples entered the dance floor, laughing and smiling the whole time. I stole a glance up at Folas, and found him grinning as well.

“C’mon, let’s dance!” He grabbed my waist and I squealed, letting him spin me through the now thick crowd of dancers until I was dizzy. 

This new song was light, happy, and I clicked my heels on the golden floor with relish, my laughter uncontainable. Folas would pull me toward him, kiss me quick, before letting me go to dance away from him, a trail of embers following my every move. 

It was exhilarating, the kind of high I wished I could have all the time, a sense of euphoria stronger than any drug in the world, I was sure. 

And my feeling of it was only heightened when Folas dragged me away from the dancers and into an offshooting hallway, large hands roaming my body over my thick dress.

“You’re perfect, Lyria. Perfect.” He mumbled against my skin, lips pressed feverishly against my throat, tracing closer and closer to where I was sure he knew his claiming marks lay, covered by the heavy makeup.

“I know.” I purred back, content to languish in his kisses until he tired of them, which, seeing the way he nuzzled the crook of my neck, wasn’t likely to be anytime soon.

Folas hummed softly, moving his hands from my back to lower down, pulling me closer against him as he pressed us both against the wall. The moon was out now, and most of the candles in the hallway extinguished to make the Great Hall seem brighter. We were alone.

But as the thought crossed my mind, my ears pricked, the sounds of the Ball and all of its attendees suddenly roaring loud. Alone, yes, but hidden? Definitely not.

Folas’s hands found the zipper on the back of my dress just as he pressed another kiss to my throat, and it took every possible bit of willpower in me to not just let him go, risk it all, if he promised not to stop what he was doing.

“Let’s go to the gardens.” I managed to get out, not able to resist threading my fingers through his dark locks.

“Mhm.” Folas nipped softly at my chin, and I had to bite my lip to stifle that soft groan that threatened to spill out.

“I’m serious.” I repeated. “The gardens will have hardly any guards right now. Someone’s bound to come down this hall at some point.”

“Yeah, and I bet I could get you to come at least once before that happens.”

“Someone’s confident in themselves.” I retorted. “I thought I was your first time, two days ago.”

“I had a learning curve two days ago.” Folas grinned. “And is that I bet I’m hearing, Lyr?”

“No, it’s not.”

Folas ignored me, sweeping me up into his arms and kissing me hard. “Maybe we can see how many times I can make you come before the guards find us.”

“In your dreams.” I snorted, though my I felt my toes curling in my shoes at the thought. 

“Oh, I’ll make it feel like a dream, all right. Just you wait, princess. I’m going to take you into the gardens and ravish you.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me for a kiss. 

“Better get on it, then. Sounds like someone’s coming down the hallway.”

Rygan POV

I was never one for large gatherings. My sisters adored them, being the kind of people who could talk and talk for hours. 

Me? Not so much.

Which was how I found myself dressed in a nice suit, my curly hair washed and tamed as much as possible, and standing at the back of the golden Great Hall while the rest of my family danced.

I didn’t mind being in the back while they had fun. It was more comfortable for me, anyway. I was content to eat good food, listen to the music, and enjoy the night by myself. 

I was busying myself by the food tables, sampling everything the cooks had made. Tonight the castle and the Great Hall were open to everyone in Orynth, including the servants. 

I took another chocolate filled pastry puff to snack on as I wandered, the cream inside of it melting in my mouth. 

I let myself get swept up in the crowd, humming along to the music while other people danced.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the tell-tale dark head of hair, neatly groomed and slicked back, that belonged to Sabron Lochan. The male was heading towards me, a glass of some mysterious drink clutched in one hand.

“I thought you’d probably be here.” Sabron chuckled, resting his free arm on my head, purposely trying to annoy me.

I shook him off and rolled my eyes. “I don’t like balls.”

Sabron’s grin turned feral. “Oh, I thought you did. I thought you were fond of balls.”

“No-” I suddenly realized what he meant. My eyes widened, and I could feel as the blood all rushed my face. “You are a terrible person, you know that, right?”

His laugh was more like a howl as he bent double, nearly spilling his drink all over his expensive suit. “Oh man, you walked right into that!”

“You’re a terrible, awful human being.” I repeated. 

I glared at Sabron, even as I let him lead me over to the food tables again. The musicians began the next song, another jaunty tune to get the people dancing. 

I couldn’t help the glance I gave to the dance floor. Or the way my eyes were instantly drawn to a tall, silver-haired male as he twirled his little sisters around. 

It’s only because he’s so tall. And his hair is so bright. It has nothing to do with anything at all.

I turned away, determined to ignore my heart which had absolutely no business beating as fast as it did. Sabron offered me a drink and I took it, not even asking what it was before I took a large gulp. 

Sabron began to talk, chattering my ear off in his usual fashion, but I couldn’t pay attention. Instead my eyes were glued on Sam, and that crooked little smile he always had, dancing with his family. 

“Rygan. Rygan. Hellooo, Rygan?” Sabron tapped me on the shoulder and I flinched, my drink spilling a bit over the edge of the glass as I did so. 

“You are so out of it tonight. Are you drunk?”

I passed him the drink back. “No. That’s the first alcohol I’ve had all night.”

Sabron finished my drink for me, knocking it back quickly. When he looked at me again, his eyes were serious. “What’s on your mind? You’re supposed to be having fun tonight.”

“It’s nothing. I am having fun.” I protested.

“No, you’re clearly preoccupied. Is it a patient back at home?”

It would have been so easy to just say yes to that. Working in the Northern Torre, I always had patients who were bothering me, occupying my mind. But right now, that just wasn’t it, and I couldn’t bring myself to lie to one of my best friends.

I shrugged and shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sabron leaned over my shoulder, watching me as I avoided his gaze and tried to look at anyone else. Big mistake.

When my eyes landed on Sam, now hanging on the side of the dance floor by himself, my heart skipped a beat. And Sabron, observant, people-watcher Sabron Lochan, noticed instantly.

“It’s Sam, isn’t it.” Not a question.

“Yeah.” I admitted.

Sabron just sighed. “I knew it. And both of you are too chicken to make the first move.”

“He probably only sees me as a friend.” I said defensively. “We’ve hardly seen each other since this time last year.”

“He’s always talking about you, you know.” Sabron murmured into my ear. “When you were gone, somehow he’d loop every conversation back to you. ‘Oh, Rygan would know what to do’. ‘Rygan would love this book’. ‘I wish Rygan was here’.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” He insisted. “He may not know it, but he is totally into you.”

Sabron nudged me forward, towards where Sam stood alone, looking suddenly very, very lost. 

“Rygan, what’s the worst he can say?”

“I am not going to admit anything!” I hissed. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You won’t. Come on, be brave.”

Sabron keep pushing me, until I was sure we were in Sam’s line of vision and I pulled myself away to walk on my own. 

Sam peered up at us, blinking rapidly. “Oh. It’s you two.”

“Who else would it be?” Sabron snorted. 

“If the nosy old lords can’t find Lyria then they ambush me.” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “And seeing as my sister has disappeared, it seems I would be a target now.”

“Where did Lyria go?” I questioned. Sam made a gagging noise.

“She snuck off with Folas a little while ago. I did not follow.”

Sabron’s shit-eating grin grew. “I should go interrupt them.”

“You’ll want to burn your eyes out afterwards.” Sam warned. 

“Please don’t burn your eyes out.” I sighed. “Eyes are so hard to fix, you know that, right?”

Sabron stuck his tongue out. “Know-it-all.”

Both Sam and I smacked his shoulder, and Sabron groaned a complaint. 

“Fine. I’ll go get more food or something. Maybe I’ll see if Asceline wants to dance.”

“She’d rather turn into a wolf and bite your face off!” Sam called after him, smiling in such a way I could see the pointed tips of his canines.

My heart skipped another beat. With Sabron gone, he’d just left me with Sam. I wasn’t sure I could properly trust my mouth to make words anymore. 

Thankfully, I didn’t have to. The candlelight dimmed even further, and the music stopped.

The entire room was silent, in bated anticipation. Slowly, the musicians began to play, softly. A young woman, red hair artfully done up, stepped forward.

And began to sing.

The emerald trees dance and the rivers run free,

The mighty stag follows, watching over me

I knew the song- the Ballad of Terrasen. The music was slow and gentle, as the woman’s lilting voice filled the Great Hall.

And on the floor, the King and Queen began a slow dance.

Somewhere, over the mountains,

There’s a place I called my own

Lysandra and Aedion joined them, a tender dance between them. And then Elide and Lorcan walked onto the floor as well. Then Evangeline and Hazel, the two women only having eyes for each other. 

The floor filled up as the song continued. Sam and I stood together in raptured silence, watching the woman sing.

No sight can contend with the steadfast oak tree,

That welcomes me home to the land of the free

And suddenly he was looking at me. The gold of his irises was reflecting the soft candlelight, his silver hair seeming to glow in the moonlight shining through the large windows. All the breath left my body at once.

Sam’s gaze was unreadable as he looked at me, with my whole body tense and blushing. And when the next words came, I thought I might faint.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

Somewhere, over the mountains,

There’s a land I once called home

“Sure.” I squeaked. 

Sam held out a hand, and I took it, trying to remember how to breathe. His hand was soft, with the barest hints of callouses on his fingertips. We walked out onto the edge of the floor, and then he took my other hand. 

But hear me my sisters, listen oh brothers,

One day we’ll find our way back to each other

His hand moved to my side, resting just above my hip. I put my hand on his shoulder, and our free hands stayed clasped together. 

Sam took the first step, sweeping us into the crowd. He was sure of himself, every movement made with precision. And yet, his eyes never left mine.

My own feet were clumsy, unpracticed. I stepped on his toes more than once, but he didn’t complain at all.

I promise I’ll find a way back to each other

The music began to swell, and the room seemed to swirl around me as we danced further and further into the crowd. 

I wasn’t sure when I had last taken a breath. Was I even breathing? I felt light headed.

“Calm down. Nobody’s watching.” Sam whispered in my ear, voice low and husky. Of course, he thought I was worried about the people.

No, I was more concerned with not melting into a puddle just from hearing his voice. 

Somewhere, over the mountains,

There’s a place I called my own

That smile. That smile. It was going to be the end of me. The little grin he made, his cheeks crinkling up, the barest hint of pointed Fae canines.

Sam twirled us across the floor, each step perfectly in time with the music. We moved through the other dancers effortlessly, with his hands holding me steady.

Somewhere, over the mountains,

There’s a land I once called home

The music was reaching its peak, and for the entire song, Sam’s eyes never once left mine. His hand, fingers entwined with mine. His body, pressed against me, leading me through the dance. 

I took a deep breath.

There’s a land I once called home.

“Sam.” His name slipped out, a soft breath.

There’s a land I once called home

We stopped, then. Right in the middle of the floor.

There’s a land I once called home

As if we were the only two people in this hall. Just two people, dancing.

There’s a land I once called home

The music faded out, as gently as it had started. The clapping began, but I didn’t hear it over the roaring of blood in my ears.

Sam’s hands were still on mine, clutching me tightly. When he leaned over me, silver hair falling in his face, every single part of me felt as though it was one fire.

His hand moved from my side to cup my face.

Sam Galathynius was touching me.

His eyes flickered down to my lips, a silent question. Almost a plea.

He was so close I could feel his breath on my lips, so close his chest was pressed against mine so I could feel the frantic beating of his own heart, echoing mine.

Sam tilted my chin up, and his beautiful eyes locked on mine again. I closed my eyes, leaned in to him. 

His nose touched mine for a split second, the scent of his skin all I could smell. I could almost imagine what it would feel like, to press my lips against his. 

He’s going to kiss me he’s going to kiss me he’s going to kiss me-

And then the world exploded.

Sam POV

Everything was a blur around me. One moment I was barely an inch away from Rygan’s face, every part of me screaming out to just do it, just kiss him! 

And the next moment the ground seemed to fall from beneath me, and Rygan and I tumbled to the floor in a heap.

The whole castle seemed to rumble, the shaking of the earth so strong I couldn’t stand. Terrified screams came from every part of the room, but I was so stunned I couldn’t even move.

A loud crack came from somewhere up high, and the scent of fear became overwhelming. People were shouting, screaming, praying.

What was going on?

A cloud of dust exploded from somewhere above us, and I buried my nose in my arm, trying in vain not to cough. I couldn’t see anything, even with my enhanced Fae eyesight. All I could do was listen as the screams kept on coming. 

I heard a soft groan beside me, and I turned, reaching for Rygan. If I couldn’t see through the dust, there was no way he could. I pulled him up beside me, and tried my best to stand up while the whole world seemed to be spinning.

“Sam,” Rygan choked out, mouth close to my ear, “We have to find the others. They might be hurt.”

“I know. Let’s go.” I took a wobbly step forward, and Rygan linked his arm with mine so we could steady each other. I couldn’t tell through the dust and the gloom what damage might have been done. All the candles had gone out. 

That didn’t bode well the state of my family. Where was my mother’s fire, Lyria’s too? Evalin and the twins could wield fire, though not well. Aspen didn’t have any fire at all, just like our father. 

My thoughts traced back to my older sister. She was gone, off with Folas. Where was she?!

“Sam, we have to go.” Rygan urged me. 

“Right.” I managed to focus my erratic thoughts enough to summon a ball of fire into my palm, though the flame was weak, sputtering. 

We stumbled through the dust together, as the frantic screaming died down. Now, people were calling out, shouting for their family and friends, for their loved ones. 

“Sam!” I heard the desperate scream of my mother, and I lurched for it, the fire flickering out. Rygan held tight to my hand, and I could make out just his blurry outline through the dust, face tucked into his collar so he could breathe. 

“Sam!” My father’s roar sounded seconds after, closer this time.

“I’m here!” I managed to call back, before hacking loudly as a cloud of dust flew into my mouth. Rygan flung his arm around my shoulder, having to reach with our height difference, and kept me upright and moving forward. 

Moments later I ran headfirst into strong, muscled arms. My father pulled me in, grabbing onto Rygan as well. I heard the distinct sigh of relief, followed by another round of coughing.

“Aelin, I”ve got Sam. And-” He scented the air. “I also have Rygan.”

I bumped into a small form, one that clung to my legs as I moved forward. Aerith, followed a moment later by Thallan.

“Do you know where Lyria is?” My mother asked, pulling me into an embrace. A furry tail brushed against my side, evidence that Fleetfoot had been woken up and taken to safety.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “She and Folas left after their dance.”

Rygan still held my hand, as if he was reluctant to let me go. I squeezed it back once, twice. 

I’m still here.

“We need to find everyone.” Aelin said. “Take a headcount.”

“I can try to clear the dust, Mama.” Aspen offered. Hardly a moment later, a strong wind flew through the room, sweeping the clouding dust up and away. I added my own powers, and we were both joined by our father.

But clearing away all the dust gave us a full view of what damage had been wrought upon the castle. A large fissure split down the Great Hall, as well as above it. Several windows were shattered, and only a few supporting beams still stood.

This hall could come crashing down upon us at any minute. 

Shards of glass were spread around, food and drinks spilled all over the floor. Some of the tables were overturned, and one was broken. The only light anymore was that of the moon, and the little fire my mother was providing. 

All around, people were huddled together in groups. I could spot the figures of the Lochan family, huddled around Marion, who was for once silent. The little girl’s eyes were wide with terror, and even from a distance I could see the white of her knuckles from gripping her father’s hand. 

“Everyone, please stay calm!” My mother shouted, doing her best to be heard throughout the hall. She turned addressing everyone. “Please, we need everyone to stay still so we can make sure everyone is here.”

Slowly the noise died down, shouting and screaming fading to whispers. Everyone counted their family, their friends. 

Rygan and I still held hands. If I let go I thought I might faint. The rest of him was shaking, but his hands remained firm. I watched those golden brown eyes scan around the room, looking for injuries. For people he could help.

Everything felt fuzzy and off centered, like the whole world was unbalanced. I turned to ask Rygan what he thought, when a sudden movement caught my eye.

“Sabron!” Marion screeched, jumping out of the way as her older brother lurched forward, vomiting violently. He landed on his hands and knees as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the gilded floor.

“Rygan, no!” He ripped his hand from mine and sprinted across the hall, running towards Sabron while his parents dropped to the floor beside him.

Shards of glass sprayed with each step he took, and I scented the moment one drew blood. But Rygan didn’t stop for even a moment until he reached Sabron, and bent down right next to him, even as the gagging continued.

“I’m going to go search for Lyria and Folas.” My father stated brusquely. “You all should stay here and help.”

“No, I’m going with you.” I protested. “Two sets of eyes.”

Rowan didn’t bother to argue with me. Instead he shifted, the flash of light nearly blinding in the dim light of the moon. I shifted myself, letting myself get swept away in my hawk form. 

Together, we flew to the top of the hall, and then went in opposite directions. I took the hall to the gardens, and my father flew down the hallway that led back into the castle. 

I summoned the winds for me to soar on, to soar through the hallway and the castle, my sharp eyes missing nothing.

Nothing. There was nothing in this hallway.

The scent of dust permeated the air, and I could smell nothing else. There was no sign of Lyria, of Folas. 

I flew through the opened doors and into the palace gardens. The wood of the doors was cracked, and the stone wall of the garden was crumbling before my eyes.

It was then that I noticed the tree. A large oak tree had been the center of the garden, surrounded by a bed of kingsflame flowers that had bloomed almost overnight, years ago.

The tree had fallen completely over. The top of the branches had crashed through the stone wall, and the kingsflame flowers were completely crushed. 

I hadn’t even noticed that I had shifted back until I felt the soil under my feet and the bark of the tree beneath my palms. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I took in the sight. The mighty oak tree, fallen.

I knew, deep down in my heart, that this tree couldn’t be fixed. Not even with the most powerful Fae in the land. The exposed rings inside the tree were too numerous to count. The tree had been standing for centuries.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. I could cry over the tree later. Lyria and Folas were still missing, and with the destruction wrought in the garden, I could hardly see a thing.

But I began to search regardless.

“Lyria! Folas! Can you hear me?”

“Sam!” I could have sobbed with relief when I heard the sound of Folas’s voice, steady and strong, calling to me from the back of the garden.

I flew over, clearing the fallen parts of bushes and smaller trees with ease as I located my sister and friend. They were alive, they were safe.

However, the sight that greeted me when I landed was anything but safe.

Lyria was hunched over, golden hair ripped from the style she’d had it in. On her hands and knees, silky green dress ripped, vomiting. Just like Sabron had been doing.

Folas was curled around her, holding back her hair. The scent of his fear was nearly tangible.

Lyria gagged, rocking back onto her knees so she could wrap her arms around her stomach. Spit dribbled down her chin, as well as tears.

I had never seen my older sister so sick. So feeble, and shaky, and hurting. Nothing was right.

“We were out in the gardens when the shaking started.” Folas explained, eyes wide and terrified. “We were going to try and get inside, but she just… stopped. She hasn’t moved since.”

“Something is wrong with me.” Lyria moaned, then leaned forward as she gagged again. “There’s a tugging in my stomach.”

“Lyria, we’re going to get you inside. There’s healers inside who can help you.” I assured her. 

I motioned to Folas, and we each grabbed her under an armpit and pulled her upright. The bodice of her dress sagged, and it was then I noticed it was unzipped, the sleeves no longer on her shoulders.

Carefully, I eased one of her arms back inside the sleeve, to at least hold the dress up while we got her inside. Lyria lurched, and I held her as she leaned forward to vomit. 

Only bile came up. 

Carefully, we helped maneuver her around the garden, back towards the castle doors. All of our clothes got snagged and ripped on thorns and broken branches as we moved, but none of us cared anymore. 

I held a ball of fire in one hand to light the way. Even the stars seemed to shine differently now. Lyria groaned as we moved her, green eyes rolling back into her head. 

Every noise she made spiked my nerves again and again. This was Lyria, my older sister, the strong, smart, witty, perfect one. And yet, here she was, hardly able to hold herself up, vomit staining the front of her dress. 

Wrong wrong wrong 

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as we reached the doors. Folas heaved one further open so we could all fit through, and then it was just the home stretch back to the Great Hall.

Folas was lagging, I could tell. He was exhausted, sweat coating his face in a sheen. When I turned to look at him, I saw the belt of his pants loose, the buckle undone.

Well, that was why they had snuck away in the first place. 

When we neared the Great Hall, Aspen found us, and his face went pale at the sight of Lyria nearly limp in our arms. She had stopped vomiting, instead seeming on the verge of passing out. 

“Mom!” Aspen yelled, and our mother was beside us in a moment.

“What happened to her?” She demanded, pulling her daughter into her arms. “My darling, are you alright?”

Lyria let out a low moan of pain, but didn’t speak. We all followed into the hall, where Aelin set her down near the wall, where the Lochans were still caring for Sabron. 

“What happened to Sabron?” Folas asked, voice a near whimper as he approached his younger brother. Elide pulled him down into a fierce hug, sobbing into his shoulder.

“Folas, we were so worried!”

I sensed a presence behind me, and I didn’t have to look to know it was Rygan. I held out a hand, and he took it, squeezing it tightly.

“Only Lyria and Sabron are sick. And we don’t know why. My mother and sisters didn’t sense anything wrong when they examined Sabron. There’s no reason he should be sick. They didn’t even find signs of shock.”

I turned to look at him. Dust was caked in his curly hair and smeared on his brown skin, and his eyes portrayed his clear exhaustion. But still he stood tall, and his hands were steady. I wasn’t sure if I could say the same. 

“Lyria said she felt like something was tugging in her stomach. One moment she was fine and then the next she wasn’t.”

“Okay.” Rygan breathed. “I’ll let Amelie know. Maybe she’ll find something in Lyria and we can help her.”

All I wanted was to lay down and sleep. The adrenaline that had fueled me earlier had abandoned me completely, leaving me exhausted. 

But I knew I couldn’t rest, not yet. My sister was sick, my best friend was passed out on the ground, the castle, my home, was in shambles. 

I didn’t know what to do. When Rygan finally let go of my hand, off to help someone with cuts and scrapes, I still stood there, motionless.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, I took a step. And another. And another. Until I was walking, stumbling towards where Lyria lay on the ground, hand clutching her stomach.

I sat down with her, beside my mother as she stroked her golden hair. I picked up her hand, rubbing the back of it gently with my fingers. 

Slowly, her breathing eased. Her muscles relaxed, her hand rested on her stomach rather than holding it. 

And there I sat, holding my sister’s hand while the world seemed to crumble around us. 

[mythopoeticreality]

The Road Goes Ever On - Chapter 3

And our adventure continues!^^ Everything is starting to come together now, meanwhile no one has any idea what’s actually going on xD

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900423/chapters/55152814

Chapter 3

By the time he’d woken Huan and set down the track himself, Curufinwë was a good several yards ahead of them, a swiftly shrinking shadow-speck becoming lost in the twisting corridors and narrow passageways the arching branches above created as they wove within one another’s grasp.

“Iron hells!” Tyelcormo nearly spat the words,swinging himself onto Huan’s back. Not a word needed to pass to the great wolfhound before he went sprinting off, the earth between the two of them and Curvo devoured in Huan’s great, loping strides.

Grasping twigs and low hanging branches snapped and snagged against his cloak and the hair whipping out behind him. Tyelcormo pressed low against Huan’s back, fingers digging into his fur.

“You need to stop him. He goes the wrong way,” Huan said. Spoken in the language of Hounds, the words came out a rumbling growl, one Tyelcormo felt in his bones as much as he heard in his ears.

“What? What do you mean? That path-”

“Does not carry the pup’s scent. Of what scent it does carry, I cannot say but...” The hound only trailed off, grunts and snarls transformed into a low whine.

Celegorm frowned. It was not like Huan to be confused. How far had he traveled? How much had the both of them encountered? Some things even now Tyelcormo did not think he could adequately describe to others. For Huan to not be able to identify a scent…

Tyelcomo pressed his lips together, for a long moment just frowning at the blur of silver and shadows about him before quickly shaking his head, urging Huan on.

“Curvo!” He called out as they neared, “Curufinwë! Stop! Slow down!”

Curvo ignored him. Tyelcormo cursed again.

“You know what to do.” He grunted to Huan.

Tyelcormo braced himself, but even so his breath still came in all a rush as Huan lunged forward, breaking into full speed. His face pressed down against the hound’s thick, ropy coat, as Huan rounded on Curvo, cornering him like a deer.

As he pushed himself back upright, he was met with a glower that could likely melt stone. Ah, well, they did always say that Curvo was most like Atar…

“Get out of my way, Tyelcormo.”

“Not until you listen.”

Curvo’s brows shot up at that, slowly his head turned on it’s side. His eyes remained ever fixed on Tyelcormo. “Until I listen?” He repeated. His voice remained level, even, but there was a blade hidden in those words. Meanwhile, Curvo’s thumb kept flicking, like one of Kano’s metronomes, over the blade held in his hand. “Forgive me brother, but were you not the one who alerted me to this matter? My son is --”

“Not down this way.” Tyelcormo cut in, “Or, at the least, Huan does not pick up upon his scent.”

There was a sharp hiss. Curvo sucking the air in between his teeth, as the knife bit down into his flesh. Were it not for that tight grip, that leash-like control he held over himself always, Tyelcormo was sure his brother would have bolted by now. He could see it, lurking there just below the surface, in the sharp ridge of bone that stood out along his knuckles and that flicker of worry just behind his eyes.

“We waste time, then.” Those were Curvo’s only words before he turned on his heel and began driving off back the way they had come.

Tyelcormo sighed. He trotted up Huan beside his brother. “We will find him, Curvo.” he insisted. “You must believe that.”

In an effort to comfort him, Huan leaned his head towards the elf, nuzzling against his chest.

“Tch.” Curufinwe raised his arms to push the hound away. Only to freeze.

Huan had gone still. Huan was growling.

In the next moment Huan rounded back on the trail again, lunging down it.

“Huan! To heel!” Tyelcormo cried, “What is the matter with you?”

“That scent. It is on him.”

“What? You mean--”

“Yes, whatever it was that took the pup, it has come down this way. And recently.”

Tyelcormo’s breath came in sharp. He swung around, calling over his shoulder to his brother, “Curvo, come! We have found something…”

~*~

“If it is another world you are from, can the same be said for those Hunters you spoke to earlier?”

By now, Fëanáro expected the answer. The silence that followed, that vague turn of the head, a gesture of the hand, halfway between a balancing scale and a dismissive wave. It hadn’t been long, perhaps an hour or so at most since first he’d encountered the Stranger, yet he felt he was beginning to understand -- not the man himself, of course, not really, but what he was like, at least.

And so he continued on. “If they are, then I imagine they would have come here through a similar path, yes? And that is the route we look for now?” He’d just remembered the lead Huntsman saying something of the like to the young man earlier. It had slipped his mind before, but, as it was, Fëanáro was rather concerned with other matters at the time. “But if that is the case, then I should hardly think you would need me to find it…”

The Stranger was simply watching him as he asked these things, eyes resting upon him in a lazy half-lidded stare. The corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Fëanáro snorted, catching the man’s look, “By all means,” he drawled, “if you have anything to say, your input would be quite welcome.”

“If I felt any need for it, I would.”

Fëanáro fixed the stranger with a flat look. With a slow shake of his head, he returned his gaze to the surrounding trees and mushrooms poking out of the leaf litter. They at least provided answers if one knew what to look for.

“I will say this.” The stranger said after a moment or so, “you are nearing the truth of it.”

“Am I, now?”

“You are. They are not of this world. But it is theirs more than mine.”

“Of course.” Of course, that should be the answer the Stranger gave him. The man seemed completely incapable of speaking in anything but riddles, should he expect anything different?

The mushrooms along the way were growing more thickly now, in long clusters forming lines to either side of them. Fëanáro remembered passing this way, beneath Laurelin’s light he had first seen it and it had struck him as odd then, as if something were trying to guide the walker somewhere. Now, the world bleached of all color save for Telperion’s pale cast, it was almost eerie.

He knew at least, he was going in the right direction. He began picking up speed, his step more assured as he led the Stranger onward.

“You have followed this way before?”

Fëanáro glanced up as the Stranger next spoke. It was the tone in the man’s voice as much as anything -- surprise, just laced with a faint air of judgement (or atleast what he interpreted as such). It made his hackles rise. “Yes…” He said, drawing out the word if only to hold back his own frustration.

A low, thoughtful sort of hum, that was the entirety of the man’s response as his eyes played along the trail of mushrooms.

“And if I had not?” Fëanáro pressed, “Where would you be then?”

The stranger’s gaze flickered back to the elf. There was something piercing in that gaze, searching. As though he were looking into Fëanáro, rather than simply at him.“I would find my way.” he said, before simply turning to look straight on ahead. “Do you really have no idea where this road leads? No tales that tell of such places?”

“What? Of mushroom strewn paths that lead off to other worlds?” But there were tales. Half forgotten in Valinor, dismissed by scholars such as himself as mere misinterpretation, encounters with Maiar upon Middle-Earth, or vauge glimpses of Oromë’s company before anything was understood. Folklore on the same level of the Black Rider. And yet those words began to whisper in his mind now, Nermir, Nandini, Orrosi, Oromandi… “Children’s tales.” Fëanáro insisted. “You cannot be serious abou--”

A high, ringing bark broke through the woods at that moment. It happened so fast, there was no time to react. A blur of white. A grunt and a thud.

Turko?

It was the only thought able to register in Fëanáro’s mind in that split moment.

Tyelcormo sat, crouched over Huan’s back, his hair streaming about his face, his eyes a wild reflection of the Hound’s own. Huan himself stood growling down at the Stranger, now pinned beneath the hound’s great paws.

“Tyelco, call your hound off!” Curufinwë’s voice. A moment later, he too came crashing out through the trees, “We need answers now, not the bastard’s blood streaming out over--Atar?!” He cut himself off, his eyes widening, gaze flickering between the stranger so near to Huan’s teeth, and his own father.

~*~

“Where is he? What did you do with him?” The words were a low, rolling growl, the sort that stretched on, and twisted at some deep, animal part of him. The part that was a frightened hare, and only screamed to run, over and over.

Wild eyes and gleaming teeth. Long, snaking flows of silver hair. Hot, reeking breath huffed into his face and creeping along his neck. In those first shocked moments, there was only impressions. The ground tipping up over itself, the bite of stones and twisting tree roots into his back. The weight pressing into his shoulders.

He blinked, staring up at the towering creature that now loomed over him. His mind still reeling -- he was not used to being surprised, not like this. He should have known, should have heard whisperings of something -- it took him a moment even to separate hound from rider.

Hound. It was a hound wasn’t it? The size of a horse, yes, but still undeniably…

There were voices shouting off, a way back. The voice of the first man he’d met on the road --his guide-- rising. The Rider twisted around, barked something to the other two. John Uskglass would not have understood it even were he paying attention. As it stood, the hound’s growling had grown only lower and more insistent, especially as the rider now turned back, and demanded something of the Magician.

“Do not just lie there! Answer him! Where did you leave --”

“Who do you think I am?”

The hound’s ears pricked, and for a moment the sharp little pins of pressure at his shoulders --the hound’s claws digging in -- eased up just slightly. John could feel the weight of the Rider’s stare upon him as well.

“You speak to me?”

“As you speak to me.”

This earned John another low growl, “You try to distract me. To win my trust against those of my pack.”

“No, I do not.”

“Then why do you not speak to me?” This time the growl had a much more human quality to it. John’s eyes flickered upward to find himself staring down the Rider. “I could have your throat torn out right now, and yet rather than answer, you reply to my dog?”

It was a threat few would have dared to make in any of his own realms, and it struck the Raven King as rather ironic. What could he have done if of a mind to do it? A faint smirk quirked at his lips. But he only shook his head, shut his eyes, pressed a long breath out through his nose. “I reply to the one speaking to me in a tongue I can understand.”

A sharp bark of laughter from the Rider, “And what? Were you raised by hounds that you cannot speak as one of the Eldar?”

“Wolves.” The Raven King replied.

And perhaps he had pushed too far. It was not a comment to win trust, even on his own world. The Rider’s eyes flashed. The Hound began snarling again. Somewhere behind them voices started to murmur and a call was shouted in this direction.

To the Raven King, it grew all too tiresome.

And so he vanished. Fell into the drowning dark of the Hound’s own shadow looming over him.

The Hound yelped, leaping back as though afraid to vanish himself.

The Rider made a sound like a strangled squawk.

As the Raven King emerged from the shadows between the trees (as though he were stepping from a doorway. Striding through and solidifying as though from a dream or some othere where entirely) it was the companion he first met upon the Road who’s eyes landed upon him first -- and those eyes were now blazing,just as bright as the heart of any star.

“My grandson.” He ground out, “Where is he? Speak, and speak quickly.”

[artboitrash]

His Bloody Rose (Stefano Valentini fanfiction) Chapter 22 - The Girl

After some discussion and some longer, much needed touches and kisses, I coaxed my Rose to lay down and sleep. After a while, she convinced me to sleep with her.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked when I said I'd been creating and using my power since Union fell apart.

"Several days, likely." I laughed it off. "Maybe even a week now."

She pulled me from my sitting position to down on top of her, on the bed. For a moment, I thought I had crushed her because she didn't move. When I began to sit up, she held tighter, with a quiet sound of defiance. After another moment I laughed and held her back.

"I'm not gonna let you make yourself sick, no matter what you do to me." she said in a playful tone.

"Oh, I guarantee you're going to deal with my wrath in the future."

I pulled away from her, moving her arms off of me. I slipped off my scarf and pulled my suit jacket off, placing them over the foot of the bed. I pulled off my shoes and set them on the ground. I stood on the cold floor, moving the sheets off of her and slipping into bed with her.

I'd cleaned her wound and rebound her chest with fresh bandages, and aside from her underwear, she wasn't wearing anything else. She hummed happily, and wrapped her arms around me despite the fact I hadn't changed for bed. I pulled the sheets up to our shoulders to combat the cold of the room. I had expected to simply wait for her to fall asleep in the safety of my arms, then go on my way to create the works I desired.

Instead, I found myself talking with her for an extended time. She yawned and stretched against me quite often, and it only made me realize how tired I really was. My head dipped against her, resolving to roll over and pull her on top of me. She had gasped and yelped quietly as I moved, but rubbed her head into my chest as I pet her hair.

"So, what are we going to do, then?" she whispered in her sleepy voice. "I don't even remember how I got here."

"Nor do I. When I left your home, I just remember going to meet someone and ask being let go from a letter program, and then I was here."

She nodded silently. "I just... I think I remember going to a therapist's meeting, but after that meeting ended, I was here, in a new home and being thanked for moving here."

I shook my fingers through her hair, removing a snag that inhibited the path through it. "To be clear, I do remember how I missed you. I didn't remember you, my dear, but I realized some time during my stay here that I was missing something."

"I'm sorry for running again..." She yawned, vocalizing quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You did not. I was attempting to be patient with you. I knew it would all go downhill once you found my newest works."

"I... Don't know how I feel about them yet."

I shifted myself, holding her still on my chest. "Go ahead, I won't be upset. I value your opinions, my muse."

"It's, well... I think it's a little different seeing your work portraying sculptures or staged scenes with dead people... But it's a little more unnerving seeing them in the instant of death and untouched otherwise."

I nodded, eye closing as my head lay back.

"I don't know if I find them as beautiful as you do. I guess I was slightly disconnected before, that your work somehow wasn't as deadly as it is. I mean, I know you use people you've killed to further your work, but I just didn't expect... Well, I guess I didn't expect to see them so up close and personal."

I laughed quietly. "It all becomes all too real, no?"

She nodded against my chest. "I'm still open to listening to your... process... But I... I  might need more time..."

She went silent and I looked down after some time passed. She was fast asleep, laying on my chest. I chuckled quietly, laying back again. I reached down and slid the sheets up to her head, given they had slipped to the dip in her back.

Eventually, I found myself dipping into sleep with her. It was dark, dreamless, and went by quickly. My dear muse, making me sleep sounder than I had for the past half of the year.

Once I awoke, I blinked the dreariness from my eyes. I sighed, stretching for a moment, and sat up. My torso was weighed down by something heavy, keeping me from completing this action. I looked at the body wrapped around my waist, taking a few moments to realize it was my dear muse.

My Rose, back in my grasp. I laughed and pulled her closer to me. She hummed in her sleep and leaned into me.

I turned over, onto my side, and allowed myself to rest a little longer. The core and everyone else in this world could wait. I was far, far too busy with someone more important than the rest of them.

-

I walked through my gallery with my Rose, showing her my newest pieces of work. She marveled over Rebirth, saying she loved the sculpture, but was hesitant to mention that it was made of real bodies.

She watched me as I collected blood from one of the male dead, and watched how I began to use it for a new piece of work. She met my creation, Guardian, and hesitantly shook her hand as she wasn't sure how to react. I kept my dear Rose by my side, but knew this wouldn't last for much longer.

People were looking for that girl, the core. A little girl who could evade most people, and I could feel her presence running around Union ever since I had been granted more control.

After some time, I discussed my predicament with my muse. I told her I would not allow her to come with me, as those new men had brought out several guns and deadly weapons. She didn't have any powers, and was nearly defenseless.

"I'm very sorry to say you would simply slow me down." I said.

She sighed. "There are better ways to put that, but blunt is better than nothing, I guess. I can take care of myself, too."

"Not at the moment, you can't. I don't doubt that you'd be able to fight back anyone, but given you are hurt so badly, I will not allow it."

Eventually we came to the understanding that she would have to stay in the gallery, where it was safe. As much as it pained me to leave her so soon after she remembered me, I had to if I wanted time with her in the future.

"Promise me, my muse." I leaned down a little, holding her head with one hand to me as I kissed her forehead. "Swear to me, you will not confront anything or speak to anyone when I am not here."

"I promise." she whispered, holding me.

"Bella..." I murmured. "I'll be home soon, my dear."

"I'll hold you to it. Why do you need to leave, anyway?"

I hesitated, almost unsure of myself once I heard that question. I frowned, and sighed at her.

"I have to find a little girl in this world."

"A little girl?"

I hummed in assurance. "Someone asked me to find her... Given my powers, I would be able to find her."

"Who... Is it? Is it her family, a friend of the family?"

"I do not know." I said truthfully. "I don't know his relation to her."

"Then don't give her to him! You're going to turn over a little girl to a complete stranger?!"

I stood aback, surprised at her bluntness. It made me smile, and I leaned forward, laughing at the surprise she had caused me. "You would make a wonderful mother."

She shook her head. "Just don't give her to a complete stranger, especially if they haven't proven that they even know her parents. How she's managed to survive, if she has, I haven't a clue."

Rose raised a hand to her newer bandages. I glanced over where her wound was. She had been too frightened to look, worried that she was now "ruined" in my eyes. Even as I tried to quell those fears, but she still seemed uncertain.

"If I got this on the first day of those creatures, or people driven insane, whatever they are, I can't imagine a little girl surviving in this climate."

"Would you be willing to take care of a child under 10 years?"

"It's better than the alternative. If you don't want to deal with her, then you won't have to. I just want at least someone to survive this nightmare."

"I'll bring her to you, then. At least until that man proves he has the best in mind for her."

She glanced up, a more relieved look crossing her soft features. I smiled and leaned forward, pressing my lips to hers. I knew that wouldn't work well with Theodore's demands. Given that he has been trying to hide his power from me, I wouldn't dare imagine how he would try to right this wrong. If he realized I had completely defied his stupid ideologies, I could only assume he would attempt to hurt me and my muse.

I smiled at her as I pulled away, and hugged her one last time. After I let go of her, I kissed her forehead as one last show of affection. I finally released her, turning away and moving myself further through the world. The look in her eyes, a look of worry, took to the back of my mind. I wondered if there was a solution to my problem. If there was a way to fix her wound and give her a way to never be powerless against anyone. I had yet to tell her how I feel about her, not willing to entertain the idea it was my hesitance that kept her memories so distant. I had taken to muttering it in my native language when I thought she couldn't hear me, hoping that somehow I could move passed this fluttering stomach stage of affection to something stronger.

One step lay in the hallway, and the next I was in the streets of Union. I walked to the area where I last sensed that little girl hiding. I began following her close behind, knowing she would instantly realize I was there. I didn't care, I enjoyed her fear as she ran through the streets.

Once I caught sight of her, I realized just how terrified the little girl was. She had dark black hair, darker than mine. A short bob that framed her head swayed as she ran, frilly pink children's pajamas that made silent swishing noises as her legs carried her.

Even if I didn't have my power, I could easily outrun her. She was so much smaller than me, and my legs were much longer than most.

I notice the man who escaped my Guardian following after a while. I could almost hear him running after us, shooting guns off with reckless abandon. I could only imagine how well that helped, given any noise would drag more corrupted citizens of Union running after him. I mentally groaned as I realized I would have to face off with him eventually. Whatever, I will deal with it when I come to it.

She led me to a restaurant, running into the back. I frowned as I heard her lock the door behind her. I walked after her, briskly making my way to the door she disappeared behind. Caught up in the moment, I tried the doorknob and began banging on the door. I jerked the door roughly, knowing full well I could use my gifts at any time.

I could hear her scuffling around in the room, and a sound like she was climbing on top of something floated to me. A smile flickered across my face. Now that I was closer to this girl, I could feel a stronger sense of my environment. I could almost feel it move with my will, large pieces of ground falling away and floating apart because of my will. My own imagination surged in my mind, feeling the world shift and change as I bent and broke it.

How far could my power go if I had her in hand?

Silence appeared around me, and I could sense her running away. I chuckled. That isn't going to help you, little girl.

I simply walked out of the restaurant kitchen, into the outside area. I saw her watching me as I stood. Her large, widened eyes showed how frightened she was. She gasped aloud and turned while shrieking, beginning to run away again.

I decided she could simply continue running. I wanted to know what the difference was, this little girl running further away from me and comparing what it felt like for her to go.

As I stood and watched her, the further from me she got the more difficult the world seemed to shape. It wasn't difficult, but I could tell it took more than a simple thought than it had a few moments ago.

I continued my walk through the town. She barely slowed down, running further into town and moving towards a shipping container warehouse. I felt myself wondering if all children had this amount of energy. Or, if it was simply the fear that allowed her to keep running. It doesn't matter to me, either way. I would catch up to her sooner or later, and testing my abilities will make it simpler to create my work. Aside from playing with her, I had been concentrating on something new. I wished to create something from nothing. I had a marvelous idea to use my power and create a titan to watch this world as I created it, a form that would serve for me to observe the world on a larger scale as I molded it to my liking.

But now that I do have more time to myself, I can't help myself from wondering about her. Theodore sent me after her, mostly in hopes that I would blindly follow his orders. I questioned if I should even give her to him, now that I was beginning to learn what I can do. Rose's words lingered in my mind, and I thought about what she had demanded.

Perhaps, for now at least, I will keep this little girl on hand. Her power seems to amplify mine, and if I did capture her then I could see what I can really do.

She sprinted through the warehouse, and I wandered silently in. I heard her shrieking as she came into contact with one of those changed being. I teleported to her and sliced the neck of the creature before it attacked her. It flailed backwards, and I turned to her. She stared up at me, and turned to run away again.

I chuckled quietly as she ran upstairs. I could hear her panting, continuing to give chase to the little girl. I watched her run into a room on the upstairs walkway. I followed her in, walking slowly as though simply playing a game as I followed her.

I glanced around vaguely, not caring about what I really saw. Her pink pajamas were visible and completely apparent behind a shipping pallet leaning against a desk. I smiled, and hummed to myself, turning around and beginning to walk out of the room. In an instant, I appeared myself in the room, watching her beginning to crawl out of her shelter. I got on my knees, yelling as I scared her.

The little girl shrieked and jumped back. Her fear was wonderful, and I reached for her, grasping her shoulder. I moved myself away from this warehouse, entering the hallways of my world, and holding tightly to her.

Once she was in my grasp, the entire world began to warp and change as I commanded as though it was all mine, laying before me as an untouched canvas. I gasped quietly, and felt the girl faint in my arms as I grasped her consciousness with my mind. The world was mine to control, and while her power was not quite under my full control, I could see exactly how to blend her will with mine.

With a smile, I approached my Rose. My back was straightened and my footsteps made her turn around. She rushed over to me, and looked at the girl in my arms.

"Is that her...?"

"Yes. Don't worry, my muse." I chuckled. "She has just fainted, I believe I may have scared her too much."

I realized that newcomer that had been following me had entered the warehouse. He had been so close to finding the core, but now with this new power I could torment him if I so chose.

"I'm afraid I have some... Unfinished business, my dear." I chuckled, and moved closer to Rose. I slid the little girl into her arms, the power now not fading since she is in the world I had created. "I will come back soon. Make sure you take care of her, she needs to be kept safe."

I left on the image of Rose holding the young girl in her arms. A little girl with hair darker than mine, and bright eyes that shine in the lights available. I smiled and disappeared from her.

I decided I must play with this new toy, the newcomer entering the room I had taken the little girl in. Having grabbed her, some of her memories transported to me, allowing me to understand some more. The newcomer is her father, and willing to do anything to get her back. She doesn't know he's alive, believing him to already be dead. Well, I will quickly rectify that.

But for now, with an extended ability, I shall turn my mind to create my titan. I shall call it Aperture, as its all-seeing eye would serve me just as my camera does.

[lilyvandersteen]

Out of the Blue: Chapter 8

Cover Art: @redheadgleek​

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage​

Links: AO3, FF.net 

Author’s Note:

Another big confrontation... And this time around, Kurt is in the wrong.

Chapter 8: Wedding Snags

“When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Charlotte tried to console her:

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

"Heaven forbid! THAT would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom on is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil."”

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

The preparations for Sam and Mercedes’ wedding brought Kurt back to Ohio several times. While dress-shopping with Mercedes, Kurt bumped into Chandler, who now worked at a bridal store, apparently.

“That’s great, that’s great,” Kurt babbled, not really knowing what to say to a sort of ex-boyfriend, even if they’d never had that official status.

Chandler’s expression darkened into a scowl. “Not really great. But it will do. For now.”

“Of course, of course. It’s good to see you again!”

That brought a smile to Chandler’s face again, and he kept up a steady stream of prattle while he flitted around fetching all sorts of wedding dresses for Mercedes to try on.

He didn’t seem to have a good eye, though. The dresses he chose were all wrong for Mercedes’ body type, and too small as well.

Kurt decided not to put Mercedes through the ordeal of putting on outfits that wouldn’t fit her anyway, and invented an emergency at his father’s shop to be able to leave the store at once.

“Is your father okay?” Mercedes asked.

“He’s fine,” Kurt assured her. “I just wanted to get out of that store. The clerk didn’t have a clue what would look good on you.”

“It seemed like… Was it someone you knew?”

Kurt sighed. “Yes. We dated when I was still in high school.”

“Ooooh! How come you never told me about this boyfriend of yours?”

“We were never boyfriends. We just went on two dates, and it never went anywhere. We got along, but there was no spark, you know?”

Mercedes nodded. “Funny that you’ve run into him again now. Maybe this time around, it will work?”

Kurt shrugged. “I doubt it. His fashion sense leaves much to be desired, and his compliments are rather stale.”

Chandler kept turning up like a bad penny, though. They didn’t go to the dress store again, Kurt having decided to design and make Mercedes’ dress himself, but Chandler was at the bakery they went to for taste-testing, because apparently his parents were celebrating their 25th anniversary and were turning it into a big party. He was at the flower shop they ordered the arrangement for the church in, choosing flowers for his parents’ anniversary bash. He was at the restaurant Mercedes had chosen to cater the wedding reception and dinner, vacillating between the fish or meat option, because his mother preferred the one and his father the other.

Each time, he turned to Kurt to help him choose, smiling at him and praising his taste. Kurt’s answering smiles were a little stiff, and he always excused himself as fast as he could.

The night of the rehearsal dinner, Kurt ran into Chandler again at the restaurant. He wasn’t alone this time. Blaine Anderson was with him, of all people, and seemed to have a hissy fit.

Kurt knew what it felt to be on the receiving end of that, and came to Chandler’s rescue, though he didn’t enjoy the liberties Chandler took as a result – taking his arm and calling him pet names.

He saw that Blaine had wine stains on his clothes, and took that to be the reason for his foul mood, so he explained how to get the stains out and advised Blaine to get on with it before they dried in.

Blaine took that to heart and disappeared at a run.

“Phew,” said Chandler.

“What was he angry about?” Kurt asked.

“Me bumping into him,” Chandler said. “We used to date, you see, and then he got tired of me, and he didn’t just dump me, he got his brother to fire me as well. Blackened my character and everything.”

Kurt’s mouth fell open in shock. “Really?”

Chandler nodded, his face grim. “Really. Can’t get a decent job anywhere because of him. So promise me you’ll never date him, no matter how much money he throws at you. Because when he gets bored, he’ll get rid of you, and you’ll be the one picking up the pieces.”

“I think I can safely promise you that,” Kurt said, his lips a thin line. “The way he treated you was horrible!”

Chandler shrugged. “Karma will bite him in the ass one day. Well, I’ll let you get back to the rehearsal dinner. See you around, sweetie!”

Kurt was halfway back to his table when it occurred to him that Chandler had no way of knowing he was here for Sam and Mercedes’ rehearsal dinner. Unless he had been eavesdropping. That was a bit unsettling. He’d wanted to share his piece of juicy gossip about Blaine Anderson with Mercedes straight away, but now decided to wait until they were alone together.

Mercedes had been planning to spend her last night as an unmarried woman with her parents, but during dinner, Kurt and Rachel had been able to convince her to come to the Hudmel house instead, for a sleepover.

While Kurt braided Rachel’s hair, he told them Chandler’s story.

Mercedes pursed her lips. “Are you sure he told you the truth? I mean, Sam has worked with Blaine several times now, and he says he’s such a nice guy. Works harder than anyone else, fixes any problem in a jiffy, treats everyone the same from the lowest intern to the big boss. Sam hasn’t heard a bad word about him from anyone who works with him.”

“Maybe they don’t dare criticize him,” Kurt suggested. “He’s the big boss’s brother, remember?”

Mercedes shrugged.

Rachel let out a giggle. “You’ve had it out for him ever since his rant at the Brittana wedding. And he APOLOGISED for that.”

“Still a dick move,” Kurt grumbled, but he let it drop.

The morning of the wedding dawned cool but bright, and Kurt hummed as he made some last-minute adjustments to the dress. A plate of no-drip, no-stain snacks stood next to him, and at regular intervals, he fed Mercedes a snack and took one for himself, too.

When he had pronounced the dress perfect, Mercedes’ cousin Alma took over, to do the bride’s and the bridesmaids’ hair and make-up, and Kurt slipped into the garden for fresh flowers. Mercedes’ mother was paying a florist to decorate the church, but Kurt had offered to do the bouquets and the boutonnières.

When he arrived back in the living room with the flowers, Mercedes sat on the sofa, looking at her phone and worrying her lower lip.

“Not having seconds thoughts, are you?” Kurt teased her, but if anything, her frown deepened.

“I’d silenced my phone so as not to be disturbed. And now I’ve just looked at it and my mom called me. Five times. And left voice-mails telling me to call back asap. Which I did, but I can’t reach her. What on earth is the matter?”

Kurt patted her arm. “You let ME worry about it, okay? Turn that frown upside down and think of nothing but marrying Sam. Your mom’s at the church, I take it? Checking the flower arrangements and such? I’ll go there at once and handle whatever snag your mom has hit. I promise.”

Mercedes nodded and smiled hesitantly.

“I’ll do the bouquets and boutonnières,” Carole offered.

“And if necessary, I can take them all to church,” Burt promised. “We still have lots of time to get there anyway. You go and deal with the problem, Kurt.”

That was all the encouragement Kurt needed to hurry to the church, where he found Sam in an old T-shirt and jeans with holes in it, scrubbing a swastika from one of the pews, and a teary Mrs. Jones being comforted by Cooper, of all people. When she told Kurt what had upset her, he blanched. Somehow, in less than 24 hours, all their careful planning had been torn to shreds. There had been a fire at the restaurant where the reception and dinner was to take place, so now they had no food nor venue. The church had been broken into and vandalized. Mercedes’ family and friends were cleaning everything up as best they could, but the flower arrangements were destroyed beyond repair. Mike, the best man, had disappeared, and with him the rings. And in front of the church, instead of well-wishers, there were two dozen bigoted idiots who were protesting against the wedding about to take place, because it was a white man marrying a black woman, and it didn’t do to mix races and sully one’s blood.

Kurt rolled his eyes at that. “That’s bogus. We’re all humans. The same race. Colour has nothing to do with it.”

“Yes, that’s all very well to say, but how do we get them to leave?” Mrs. Jones wailed.

Just then, two buses arrived. Out of them stepped about a dozen men clad in riot gear and armed to the teeth. They started herding the protesters onto the buses, and left with them after just a few minutes.

“That’s one problem sorted,” Cooper said cheerfully. “We’ll fix the rest too, don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Jones!”

“Flowers,” Kurt said. “I can do the flowers, no problem. It won’t be as grand as what the florist had planned, but it’ll look great nonetheless, I promise. Sam, Cooper, you’ll help once I get back?”

He didn’t wait for an answer but hurried to his car and headed home, where he assured Mercedes everything was under control, except that there had been a mishap with the flowers, and now they needed more. He stripped the garden of its flowers, put them into a few pails of water and ransacked his sewing supplies for ribbons. He also collected all the vases they had.

When he’d found everything he needed, he raced back to the church, and instructed Sam and Cooper to start tying roses to the pews, which thankfully were too sturdy to have been destroyed. They had been graffitied, but Mercedes’ family and friends had gotten most of it off, and had camouflaged the rest with a shimmery gauzy fabric. Silver. Perfect. Carole’s biggest vase was silver too, and Kurt would be using it to decorate the altar.

He carefully compiled a big bouquet for the altar and a few smaller ones to put in front of the lecterns. Then he inspected the arch at the church entrance. The wooden structure was chipped but still sound. The flowers, however, had been viciously shredded.

“Mrs. Jones, is there any more of that silver fabric? I’d put it over the arch and then pin the rest of my flowers onto it.”

Half an hour later, the church looked splendid again.

“What are we going to do about the best man and the rings, though?” he asked Sam.

“We have a back-up guy,” Sam smiled, “and he found us rings, too.”

Kurt hummed thoughtfully. “That leaves the food and a venue for the reception and the dinner. Where are we going to find that at such short notice?”

Sam clapped Kurt on the back. “No worries, man, the minister offered us the use of his garden, which is huge, apparently, and the whole church community is helping out, bringing chairs and tables and string lights and decorations and food and everything else we need. It’s all going to be all right!”

Kurt let out a deep breath and thanked his lucky stars for close-knit communities saving the day.

When Mercedes entered the church a few hours later, looking beyond gorgeous and glowing with happiness, Kurt wiped away a tear and blew her a kiss as she passed him. As he turned around to face the altar, though, he got a nasty shock. He hadn’t been paying much attention to Sam and his groomsmen, but now he saw that the back-up best man was none other than Blaine Anderson.

What on earth was HE doing here? Yes, Kurt had sent the Anderson brothers an invite, but what on earth did Blaine think he was doing, integrating himself into the wedding party?

Right at that moment, Blaine seemed to feel Kurt’s eyes on him. He looked straight at Kurt, nodded and smiled.

Kurt, still outraged at how Blaine had treated Chandler, shot him a glare and looked away to the minister, boiling inside.

He determinedly did not look Blaine’s way again throughout the ceremony, and hurried out of the church to the minister’s garden as soon as it was over.

As promised, the church community had turned the garden into a festive wonderland, and they’d set up an entire buffet of snacks and salads next to two barbecue grills. The wedding cake had arrived, too, and looked pristine and perfect.

“Dibs on this grill!” said a loud voice behind him, and Kurt shook his head with a grin as he saw Burt accept an apron from one of the women who’d be serving the buffet and inspect the contents of the cooler box.

“No red meat for you, Dad!” Kurt reminded him. “Remember what the doctor said!”

“Spoilsport,” Burt grumbled. “Just a teensy piece? Since this is a festive occasion and all?”

Kurt laughed. “All right, then, a teensy piece. I’ll tell Carole to check if it really is teensy!”

Soon, the party was well on its way. Everyone had enjoyed the impromptu barbecue, and now a band had arrived out of nowhere, and all the invitees were singing along and dancing and having a great time.

At Mercedes’ insistence, Kurt was telling her about all the problems they’d had to solve earlier that day, and she gasped and teared up a little.

Kurt was quick to dab the moisture away, “Your mascara, girl!”, and to comfort her. “Everything has turned out fine, hasn’t it? Thank heavens for your church community. They’ve worked wonders here! And everything else was dealt with satisfactorily. Well, except for Blaine Anderson being Sam’s replacement best man. Really? That rude, obnoxious ass? Don’t know why he’s always in a huff about something and throwing tantrums like a toddler or biting people’s noses off, but I’m far from impressed with his attitude. He needs to GROW UP. And seriously, after all that guy did, couldn’t Sam have chosen someone better?”

Someone cleared their throat behind them. They both turned their heads, and Kurt felt his cheeks heat up when he saw that it was Blaine. Had he heard Kurt bad-mouthing him?

“May I have this dance?” Blaine asked with a little bow, holding out his hand to Kurt expectantly.

Taken off guard, Kurt stammered, “Yeah. Sure.”

It was out before Kurt knew it, and there was no way of taking it back, seeing as Blaine took him firmly by the waist and whirled him away at once, beaming as he did so.

“That was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?” Blaine said a little later.

“It was,” Kurt agreed. “I’m not religious, but the minister said a lot of things that resonated with me. Yeah. I liked it.”

Blaine smiled at him again, his expression so disarming and charming that Kurt felt short of breath for a moment and had to remind himself of all the reprehensible things Blaine had done so as not to smile back besottedly.

The song changed, but Blaine showed no intention of letting Kurt go, leading him expertly and catching him any time Kurt stumbled over his own feet.

“Mercedes looks gorgeous in that dress,” Blaine said next. “It suits her so well.”

“Thank you. I made it.”

“Well, you’re an absolute wizard with a needle, then.”

Kurt giggled, and then covered his mouth with his hand in horror. Blaine didn’t seem to have noticed, though. He was looking pensive now.

“Why did you glare at me during the ceremony?”

Kurt’s chin went up. “You don’t deserve to be Sam’s best man.”

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. “Did you want that position?”

“What? No! I just mean, after what you did to Britts and San at their wedding, and after the despicable way you’ve treated Chandler, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near Sam, who is sweetness itself and deserves better than a cold-hearted, mean-spirited guy as his best man.”

Blaine had stopped moving now, and let go of Kurt. “Cold-hearted? Mean-spirited? After how I treated Chandler? Don’t you have that the wrong way round? Don’t you know what he did?”

Kurt scoffed. “What did he do to deserve you destroying his chances of ever finding a job again? Bite your dick while he was sucking it?”

Silence fell. Kurt noticed that people were looking at the both of them, and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

Blaine’s face was a cold mask now. “I’ve no idea what lies he told you, but you’re wide off the mark. We had good reasons to fire him.”

“Like what?”

“Like that he tried to kill you!”

Blaine turned around and stalked off, leaving behind a gaping Kurt.

What?!!