#time spent in garden made him look miserable but turning just pushed it to another extreme

[ksen-noodles]

Some CG Luffy designs!

I made a reference for myself so I can keep my doodles kinda consistent :D

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha romanoff x noble!fem!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: ppl are upset, shit gets ruined, swearing? the “l” word

word count: 3.5k

what is this, like the sixth part? this was definitely supposed to be a miniseries lmao- all the other parts are on my pinned post!

The nights passed the same, but the days were entirely different. Days kept flying by, and with every single cycle of the sun, you were forced more and more by tradition to prepare your home for your future husband. It had been days since you and Natasha confessed your feelings for each other and kissed under the starlight, and still, the feeling of her arms around you and her face in your hands still ran around in your mind, pushing thoughts of your duties out of your mind without any effort. And it was for that reason, against your judgement, that you still met with Natasha Romanoff every night. 

  It felt like ever since the honesty started flowing, you began to feel lighter. With every glance at Natasha that became less and less stolen, your soul felt like it could deviate more and more by the second. Your mind knew what was going on, the high before the impending fall, and you knew for a fact that when you hit the ground, you were going to shatter. But you couldn't find your mind wanting to acknowledge how fragile you were becoming for love. And how could you? How could you mind the chilling fall and the results of it when Natasha cradled you so gently, just like stained glass?

 Wanda was the sane one. She was the one who kept trying to bring you back down from the tops of your clouds, attempting to be the gentle reminder before reality itself slammed right into you and took your breath away in the worst of ways. She was the gentle hand of a mother that tried to shake her child out of  a nightmare disguised as a dream, and you were the insolent child who ignored her. 

 Pietro, on the other hand, encouraged it. He was all for splurging, and that went for everything. He was a borderline glutton and when he had money, it was gone within weeks, and he was an advocate for the way that you were divulging in your own little heaven. He would smile when he saw you off in your own head, reminiscing on a memory so sweet you could have sworn it was some sort of dream. He would tell Wanda in hushed whispers to leave you alone, and that you deserved to be happy, even if it was only for a little bit. 

  “But she doesn’t deserve to have it ripped away from her,” Wanda said to him on a day where the sun managed to pierce through the coverage of the clouds, and he just shook  his head at her, looking at her with slight pity. “It’s my duty as her friend to remind her.”

“She’s a smart girl, don’t you think she knows?” Pietro retorted, eyeing you as you picked a magnolia from your garden, standing  by yourself but still smiling. “Besides, do you really think that her lady love is going to let anything happen to her?” 

 Wanda gasped and looked around them, on alert for anyone who could have possibly heard what her brother had said. Her eyes were wild as she watched for anyone who may have heard the scandalous words, and when she saw that everyone was minding their business, she swirled her head back to glare at Pietro.  “What?”

Pietro grinned, and then his grin turned into a sneaky smirk. “What, you didn't know?” When Wanda hesitated to answer, he chuckled. ‘There’s no way you didn’t know.” 

“Pietro, you can’t just say things like that,” she scolded, heart still racing at the thought of someone knowing. 

“You and I are the only ones who know her well enough to know that she’s in love, and there’s no way that you haven’t seen the way that the knight is around her.” 

  Wanda had. She had a great read on people, always seeming to know everyone’s thoughts before they even knew it themselves. She knew the second that Natasha Romanoff started to change, and she would never forget the time where she realized that it was because of her very own dear friend.

 It happened on a particularly cool day, and Wanda had dressed you in a short and flowy dress before realizing that there was a breeze outside. You had walked down to the training areas, even though you said that you were just aimlessly walking, and you kept glancing over your shoulder to watch the red head spar with a man twice her size and hold more than her own. You had looked away the second that Wanda looked at you for a moment too long, with her eyes that were always seeking answers. The first pang of realization hit Wanda that day when she saw you stand up straight and tall when Natasha started to saunter towards the both of you. The second time that she saw it was when Natasha got an eyeful of you, too, and then her flawless steps faltered for the quickest of moments. Natasha never faltered. 

  “It doesn’t matter what we know,” Wanda muttered lowly, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear in an attempt to look like they were having a normal conversation. “We can’t just go around saying that our lady-”

“Likes women?” He asked, and Wanda immediately started throwing curses his way. “No one ever sees past their own problems here. I can assure you, no one cares if Lady Mirellis likes lying with women.” 

“No, but Brock Rumlow will care,” Wanda pointed out. “And he has the ability to make her life miserable. So please, watch your mouth. Or at least care for how loud you run it.”

 “They were meant to meet,” Pietro said, his words nearly running into Wanda’s. “They were meant to meet, that much is obvious. I knew it from the second that I saw them look at each other when the redhead stepped out of the carriage.” Wanda looked at him with shock in her eyes as she watched his face flood with smugness, the sort of effortless smile that made people smile back. “What, you didn’t see that coming?” He shook his head and ruffled his sister’s hair, ignoring the angered sounds she made. 

“And you say that you’re the observant twin?” 

§§

The stream became your hiding place. It was the place that you and Natasha went when it all became too much for you or when she wanted to celebrate getting another step closer to finding herself. You went on good days and bad ones, but at the end of it, you felt at peace. You both ended up forgetting why you went in the first place. 

Your toes were in the water, brushing up against a rock every few seconds as the red head practiced wielding her sword absentmindedly behind you, still looking graceful and as smooth as water while she did it. “What’s going to happen when you finish?” 

  “When I finish what?” 

“When you finish your knightly duties, you know, the reason why you came in the first place?” You asked, turning your head to look at her. She had her arm straight out, sword elongating it and was mid-lunge, but her eyes were on you and her forehead had gathered wrinkles. “What’s going to happen?” 

She dropped her arm abruptly and frowned. You heard her inhale over the sound of rushing water. “Well, I suppose I have to ride back to the capital.”  You knew that. “I’ll be officially knighted there.” 

  “Are you excited?” 

“It’s still a few months away,” Natasha said, and you knew that the statement was more for you than it was for her. “But when the time comes, I’ll be excited.” 

You knew she would be. She rose up from nothing to possibly being a woman knighted by the king, something that had never happened before. She was proud of herself, and you were proud of her. She was the perfect knight, honorable and strong, and everything that a person with that title should be. You sat there with your lips shut, hand in hers like it was meant to be that way, and your mind moving at a speed legs couldn’t even hope for. 

“Whatever you’re worrying about, darling,” Natasha said, the hand that wasn’t intertwined with you reaching up and brushing against your jaw, fingers caressing your face as she turned your head gently to face her. “Don’t.” 

  “If only it were that easy.” 

“It could be,” she retorted, and her pointer finger brushed over your top lip. “Just stop thinking about it.” 

You pursed your lips at her, shaking your head. “You truly do have a man’s brain.” 

“Are you going to be able to do it?” She asked out of nowhere, and you stopped tracing her eyebrows with your finger to give her a confused look. “I guess the real question is- are you really going to do it?”

You sighed, your heart already slowly breaking. “Yes.” You said, lacking hesitancy that you felt deeply in your heart. “It won’t matter that I’ll be married to him. I swear it.” 

“I believe you.” 

“Nothing has to change. We’ll sneak around like we always do, we’ll be fine.” 

“Hey,” Natasha said, grabbing your hands as they started to shake. Your eyes were gathering tears with every word that passed through your lips, and she made you focus on her. “I believe you.” 

The rest of the night was spent as all the other nights were spent. Silence other than the sounds of nature and each other’s soft breathing. The customary breeze that came and went brushing against your bare legs and Natasha’s clothed ones. Soft touches that ranged from hands to foreheads to each other’s backs. It was so intimate, and you were so alone with her that it truly felt like you two were the only people on the planet. You never felt safer. Seeing Natasha wield a sword or wear her armor had nothing on the security that you felt when she just had you close, where there was nothing but a sliver of air between your two bodies. It was in moments like those, when she held you in her arms and kissed your temple, where you truly felt invincible. 

§§

With every passing day, you fell more and more in love with Natasha Romanoff. That much was a given, and you knew that the first night at the stream was going to change your life for forever, but you never expected it to be that hard. And by it, you meant, getting married to someone you would hate just so that you could keep the woman that you loved safe. 

And it felt so good to finally use that word, even if it was only in the comforts of your own mind. You loved her. You loved her like you had never loved anyone else, and you had to tell her one day. Your heart sunk to your toes when you realized that the confession would have to be in an empty forest or in your gardens or somewhere else just a s secretive, and that no one would ever find out truly how devoted you were to her. You were never going to be able to tell the world that you loved her, and that was for more reasons than one. 

  You were going to marry Brock Rumlow the day after he arrived. And that day was hardly even approaching anymore, it was on your doorstep. It was so close, in fact, that you were standing in your wedding gown and crying as you tried it on one last time before the fateful day. 

One second, Wanda was doing your corset and fixing the collar on the traditional wedding dress and the next- she was watching you lose your mind. “I really- I can’t do it.” You had a hand over your mouth as you looked up towards the ceiling. You collapsed to the floor despite your chest struggling to expand and catch a breath while the corset constricted. Your hands covered your face as you allowed yourself to have a good cry for the first time in what felt like years. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Wanda breathed out, and you could feel the heartbreak in her just like it was in you. “I know. I know, just cry it all out.” 

Your head was spinning. You had no idea what terrible choices you had made for life to bring you to the spot that you were soon to arrive at and be stuck in forever. You had no idea what you had done to the world to make the universe want to make your life miserable. “I can’t do it.” 

“If you’re afraid that he’ll hurt you…”  Wanda started off, a slight tremble in her voice as she tried to gather her own bearings and be strong for you, “Pietro and I won’t let it happen. Pietro is strong, and I’m fierce when it comes to the two of you, you know that. Nothing will ever happen to you while we’re here.”

  “I can’t marry him,” you sobbed, and it felt like you were being crushed into a hug by the corset. “I can’t.” 

  “I will be with you every step of the way, just like I was before, darling.” 

“No!” You wailed, and you felt Wanda startle a bit. You were going in circles in your own mind, s fast that you couldn’t even stop your lips from moving if you had tried. “I can’t- I cannot marry him because my heart is fully in the possession of another.” You admitted lowly, so quietly that Wanda hardly even heard it. “I can’t.” 

Wanda waited a few moments before speaking again. “It’s Natasha isn’t it?” 

You stiffened up immediately, almost forgetting that quickly that you had shared the only secret that you ever kept from Wanda. Natasha. “What?” 

  “Pietro and I have known you for what feels like centuries,” Wanda said rubbing a smooth hand up and down your back. “Did you really think that we hadn’t caught on?” 

  You looked up at her, panic manifesting in your eyes. “Who else knows?” If you were in a rational state of mind, you would have known that Wanda and Pietro would never run their mouths, especially not about something that meant life or death. And you being with someone- a woman at that- before your betrothed came? That meant certain death for the both of you. ‘W-Wanda-”

“No one knows,” she said soothingly, a promise deep rooted in her tone. “Just the two of us. You hid it surprisingly well, but you can’t hide from your family.”

And they were family. The only ones you considered to be family, actually. “So now you know why.” Wanda nodded, and then the two of you sat on your wooden floor in silence, but it felt awfully loud with the thoughts running through you.

It felt like ages had passed by the time Wanda’s voice flooded your senses again, the despair in it hardly hidden. “What are you going to do?” 

“Try to keep us both alive.” 

§§

Your eyes were shut as you laid on your back and tried to will the tears away. Natasha was next to you, and you were supposed to be stargazing during your last night of freedom. You had been keeping it together, but the second Natasha heard a sniffle, she shook her head and leaned up on her arm.

 “You are not going to mope on our last- you know what? You’re just not going to mope tonight. Stand up.” Before you could even tell her that you didn’t want to she was yanking you up with one hand. You stumbled forward and into her arms, unable to stop yourself from giggling a bit before she steadied you. 

The moonlight was your friend as it lit her face, and like you always did, you momentarily lost your breath while the two of you locked eyes, yours clashing with her blue ones and creating a tension that you were so familiar with, the kind that everyone craved. “If there was no rush, nothing threatening to tear us apart, would you agree to marry me right now?” 

 You blinked. “What?” 

“In another life,” Natasha said, and you nodded with hesitant encouragement. “If this was another life and I was someone in a position to get down on one knee and marry you, would you tell me yes?” You stood there tongue tied, holding both of her hands as she stared at you head on. “If I were a man, a wealthy man who loved you for you, just like I do now, would you tell me yes? Would you agree to marry me if there were no obstacles?”

 Once you understood the depth of her question, the answer that had been stirring within finally came to light, and then it was leaving your lips in a surprised exhalation. “Yes.”

“Good,” Natasha said, the apprehension melting off of her face. She took a step back, but still held your hands tightly. “I’ll make it a point to find you in the next life, then.” 

 The next life. An unknown. Something that had so many variables, so many different meanings and outcomes. She was so optimistic, for someone who had seen so much hurt and suffering. But you were a realist, you had to be after everything that happened to you. And you knew deep down, no matter how much you willed for there to be one, that there was no second chance at a next life for you. And there wasn’t one for her, either. You didn’t have the next life. You didn’t even have the one you lived in. But you had a single night. 

“I would marry you tonight,” you said softly, and when you heard her breathing hitch, you turned your head to look at her, watching the slightest of flushes appear on her cheeks, like she was surprised that you would have even said the words that you did. “Even with everything going on right now, I would marry you. I would marry you with or without the people who hate us for loving who we do, and with or without Brock Rumlow coming in the morning. If I could, I would marry you. If you’d have me, of course.” 

“Of course I would,” she said, relief lacing in her voice as she touched your face, and one of your tears hit her pointer finger. “And it’s too late now, I’m afraid, but, I love you,” she said, and just like that, all of your worry and frustration and fear had melted away, like you were in some stupid fairy tale that queens tell their daughters at night. “Is that enough?” 

 No. It wasn’t. Not when it came to her. You wanted to give your all to her and you wanted it back from her. But as quick as you realized that you wanted it all, you realized that you would never get it. So, the little confessions and hugs and caresses in the dark were going to have to be enough. You would make them enough. “It’s enough,” you said, because wanting was enough. Being with her in the night and desiring for her during the day was enough. “It’s enough.” 

§§

You expected a more calm entrance from Lord Rumlow, but then again, you didn’t know him. But the second all of his horses and men came barreling down the road, you felt like you knew him quite enough. 

You knew all men like him at first glance. 

Wanda was on your left, and Pietro on your right as you stood in a pretty, floral dress that Wanda picked out for you. It was silent when she dressed you, but all the words were there. She did your hair the way that you usually did it, said you looked beautiful, and then the next thing you knew, you were standing and watching carriages arrive. 

 Natasha wasn’t there.  

You honestly didn’t know if it was worse or better for you. 

When the fanfare was finally over and the door to the grandest chariot of them all opened, you held your breath. And then, before you could even stop yourself, you thought, I’m about to see what a true monster looks like. 

He was a big man. Muscular, sturdy looking, and intimidating. You immediately understood why he came off as so hostile in the letters, and it was because he was so scary looking that he could get away with nearly anything. You tilted your head upwards in defiance, meeting his eyes even though he cocked a brow at you, easily recognizing you as his betrothed, and as a woman who was directly challenging him. 

He took a few steps closer, but like he knew of your extreme aversion to him and the way that you had two people beside you that would defend you fiercely, he stopped at a far enough distance. His expensive shoes dug up your grass, and you would have flinched if it weren’t for his steely, self assured voice coming your way.  “You must be my wife.” 

You couldn’t even scoff. “Not yet.” 

“But tomorrow is coming,” he said, looking around the estate, clearly pleased with the way it looked. He nodded his head once, twice, and then three times, before his gaze settled on you again, and he looked you up and down. “Couldn’t ask for anything more.

***

it literally astonishes me that this was supposed to be four chapters long, at most. but then again, it was supposed to be a fucking one shot just like all the flowers will bloom- so why am i surprised? i can’t write none shots for shit guys... 

please like and reblog if you liked this lil installment! i hope you guys have a great rest of your day/night :)))) 

taglist!

@teenwonder  @msmarvelsmain @saamwilscn​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering 

@xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

i’m pretty sure i didn’t forget anyone, and if i did, i’m sorry!

[batarella]

Wallpaper (Jason Todd x Reader)

A smile so palpable, a smile you saw him look at and return, for only just so few a second, it stayed and delved into this threshold with him you never would have foreseen.

A/N: I just realized I haven’t done a one shot since before Bullet. Here’s a little coffee shop one where you find out your best friend’s home screen on his phone is a picture of you.

WORDS: 2081 WARNINGS: NONE BUT FLUFF

MASTERLIST

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Two espressos at ten that night. At this hour, there were three types of people in the café with you. The hard-working strivers with bloodshot eyes and five different highlighters, the laid back, unbothered students on their phones even with a book wide open in front of them, and the likes of Jason, the friends of the mentioned two, asleep on the couch and/or their desks.

And it was just that when you got to your table and Jason had already settled into his seat, crouched over and unmoving. You poked his shoulder with your elbow to wake him. “Drink.”

“I didn’t order one.”

“I thought you needed it, with you on patrol tonight.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Wednesdays he patrols the alley, so he won't be getting any shut eye for the whole of the night. And he had an hour, maybe two, before he leaves. Still you convinced him to come with or the lack of company lulls you to boredom. And that wasn’t much an option even when it’d be inevitable having a paper due before AM.

Jason didn’t argue, and he wasn’t much to have caffeine before he goes on patrol. He just took the cup and sipped.

You pulled out your laptop. “Got anything to do for the night?”

From your screen, you looked up and Jason was on his phone. “Errands.”

“Errands?”

“Yeah,” he showed you his screen. It opened a text from Roy. “Is Roy asking you to do something for him?”

“Nah. I just need to reply. It’s been two days.”

“So errands to you is replying to text messages-“

“You know I don’t like texting when it isn’t necessary.”

“You reply to me.”

He snorted and sipped from his cup. “’Cuz you're tolerable.”

“Thanks so much.” You stretched out your fingers. “Now be quiet. I need to finish this.”

You never once would have thought that was the last thing you’d ever say to him that didn’t have any unusual undertones, when you didn’t have to think too much about what you’d say and what light you’d put yourself into. And what was worse, it wasn’t one you’d prepared for, neither was it anything to expect even when it was all in front of your nose for so many years.

“Bathroom,” he said to you after half an hour of silence.

And all else would have stayed that way if you let it. But even that had proven to be something so difficult for you to do.

It started when, out of the gaps from the supposed noise cancelling headphones you got from Wish, his phone rang. It was Roy. Because of those headphones, and how they failed at their one job, you heard that ringtone, the first of this descent, this succession you’d no longer knew how to stop.

You picked up his phone and told Roy he’d call him back.

Another step was looking too closely at his lock screen that opened just as you hung up.

It was taken from a couch. Your couch it seems. The one in your apartment that faced your window. And in front of it, too far for you to recognize immediately but close enough that you’d know, was a head of hair, back turned and facing out the curtains, with an arm outstretched so she was holding the fabric out the way to look out the glass.

Her hair was, however, something you could tell was yours. Because then you remembered the day this picture was taken. You invited him over to your apartment and a parade went on just outside your building. Jason didn’t care for it and stuck to the couch. You wanted to at least take a peek.

But it would have been nothing to think much of if it weren’t for the fact that the whole picture was centered on you, that it wasn’t the curtains or the windows or even the blank wall perfectly shined on was what the photo was so focused on.

It was ignorance, genuine confusion you just wanted an answer to.

But something, some voice perhaps, told you it was a good idea to snoop around your best friend’s phone, because that very voice knew there was so much more to this than you ever would have thought.

Another step you didn’t know would push you further into this fall was guessing his password right the first time.

It was then when you knew there wasn’t any turning back, whatever it was you’d gotten yourself into.

All it was, and all it should be, was a photo of you, one of you turning your back to tell him you’d seen god knows what outside your window, something that seemingly made you smile in a way you’ve never seen yourself before, so raw and candid, one you could never force yourself to have if you tried. Because it seems it came out when you weren’t. A photo that Jason had set as his home screen. All it should be was a photo, and a few taps of his fingers that should mean just as much as saying you looked at all decent. All it should be was pixels, a moment captured just because, something he’d look at amusingly that had nothing to do with depth nor thought.

All it was is you, his best friend, someone he took to prom once and ended up skipping because you had food poisoning that night, and he spent the night holding up your hair with your head in the toilet. All it was is you, the girl who tried and miserably failed to hook him up with so many others because no one seemed to stick with him long enough, longer than just a fling or enough to have meaning.

All it was is you. It was him. It was just Jason.

It can’t be anything more.

You put the phone down just as Jason came back from the bathroom.

“Roy called.” You found it difficult to even talk. “He wants you to call him back.”

The man just scoffed. “All he’s getting is a text outta me. You didn’t have to answer.”

You shrugged. Maybe you shouldn’t have.

But it shouldn’t matter if it didn’t mean anything.

That he didn’t actively choose to have your face to look at every day when you weren’t around, on his phone which he was on so much of the time, even when he barely talks to anyone.

That it wasn’t you, at a moment you didn’t even notice, and a photo he’d cropped out so it was you and you alone that he could see, that he didn’t care for the curtains, the view out the window, or the blank wall, that he only cared to see you.

That he didn’t choose to have you to look at every time he closes an app or sends a text or takes a photo or do anything with that little device.

It shouldn’t be any of those things.

But, even with your efforts not too futile, it didn’t even matter.

Ten years, more than that, without seeing him anywhere near that light.

But not one day out of those years did you remember looking up from where you were sitting quietly across him and notice how lightly his tongue dragged over his top lip to clean off the coffee’s brown, or how he ignores it when his hair tickles his eyelids but can’t stand it when it was on his nose.

You thought you’d never notice how that night, the dark circles under his eyes were more eminent than they’d so often be, how when he answered your call that late afternoon, he’d just woken up from a nap, or more likely, just had the time to at all sleep. How he didn’t even sound like it was a bother and went with you anyway.

How he’s never rejected a night with you at the café even when you thought he would, even when he’d barely do anything more than nap or fiddle with his phone. Sometimes he’d pretend to ask about what you were up to, pretend to be interested.

How he’s never said no to you at all. Even for the most trivial things, even when it seemed so unlike him to be invested in what you do, even when it doesn’t concern him at the least.

You never saw him in that light.

Suddenly he was shining under it brighter than any beautiful woman’s eyes or a concert stadium’s stage lighting.

At one point you couldn’t remember, you were told it was possible to fall in love in a day, and naturally you didn’t believe it. Or if it were true, that it wasn’t at all any deeper than a child’s play pool or a pond outside a garden.

And it was all too unlikely that you’d know all these with what time you had.

But you did.

All it took was an hour. Less than two.

And it was your chest burning, jumping even, that went with your stomach when he slid the small cake he’d ordered over to your side of the table so you could have a bite, even when you knew that little slice was barely enough to stuff him.

It was your eyes that took too long to linger on what was just his face, no longer just a face, but was now one you could stare at for so long as you could see, for so long that you’d take advantage of your sight and choose to only ever look at things so beautiful, such as him.

It was your hands, sweating profusely and defying all effort you’d pathetically exert, how they shook so much you had to fist them just to have some kind of conscious control.

But even that wasn’t possible. You had no control in any of this at all.

It was the opposite of gradual falling, the kind you thought would only bring out something so intense and genuine and at all real, something that’d last and evolve from the frantic beating in your chest into comfort you’d find in no one else.

It wasn’t something you’d seen come from so far and prepared for even with it so clear, that you’d look to yourself and actually watch yourself fall and at all have a say in any of it.

Because, if anything, it was tripping over a cliff that suddenly appeared behind you, or a beaver dam you thought was made of stone, but instead was filled with leaves and branches so brittle and fragile that the water broke through it easier with one, single ripple from its surface.

You watched yourself then, as everything you felt, every ounce of redness in your face that morphed into this fire that never would stop burning even with what you’d try to extinguish, that this shaking in your palms turned to this reeling, this desire to hold something or someone, someone that was him and only him, when you looked up and saw his hand and you realized it was what you were crying out to hold.

Like you’d transcended out your own body and saw what you never thought existed suddenly unfold.  

It wasn’t possible.

But you didn’t even allow yourself the time to deny it.

“Want me to get you more?” Jason asked you, and you realized you’d finished the cake he’d given. And you didn’t even like cake.

“I’d love one.”

Just as he started to get up from his chair, he looked at you quizzically.

“You alright?”

The nod you gave him was too subtle to imply truth, but he didn’t look into it twice. He just got up and bought you another slice.

Then he handed the whole thing to you, took one bite, then gave you the same fork he’d just raked over his lips.

A smile so palpable, a smile you saw him look at and return, for only just so few a second, it stayed and delved into this threshold with him you never would have foreseen.

But it was that very smile that sealed it, that locked you in, and right then you knew that perhaps, this was what you’ve wanted in a good life for so long.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

You couldn’t possibly have fallen in love with him in eighty-three minutes.

But at the end of it, you didn’t even try to deny.

You did.

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MASTERLIST

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[wildlyglittering]

Good at Starting Fires

I really hated the overly sexualised way that Cassian looked at Nesta in ACOSAF and ACOSF when he commented on her drastic weight loss. Instead of being concerned that she was losing weight at a drastic pace he was more 'boobs man, great they're still there' and it wound me up no end.

I was sent a prompt by an anon that said 'angsty Nessian set in the Illyrian camp where Cassian sees Nesta in her underwear for the first time' and I found that I wanted to try and right that 'wrong' in relation to the above. Probably not quite what the requestor had in mind but hey ho.

Some mention of weight loss and concerns surrounding it.

***

The rain lashed onto Cassian’s exposed skin.

The deluge hadn’t turned into a full storm quite yet but still, this was the worst weather he had seen in a long while, the wind barrelling into him warranting his full concentration in order to continue to fly upright.

Cassian would have chanced some different manoeuvres to make flight easier but he wasn’t flying alone.

The female in his arms had said nothing to him since they left the ground, perhaps planning to ignore him for the remainder of their eternal lives. Cassian would usually provoke her into retaliating against some jibe but tonight, with thick darkness surrounding them and the harsh pelt of the cold rain against their skin, goading wasn’t suitable.

Instead, Cassian flew through the onslaught, clutching onto a shivering Nesta.

They’d exited the river house in silence. Cassian thought she would fight the decision, fight Feyre, fight him, but she hadn’t. Her lips pursed together with her spine rigid and shoulders defiant; a stubborn refusal to give any indication of defeat.

Nesta hadn’t looked at any of them, or spoken either, instead turning with clenched fists to walk out the door she’d walked in from.

“Bye then,” taunted Rhys from his place by the fireplace.

A sharp rebuke came from Feyre while Cassian rubbed his hands over his face before glaring at his High Lord. His next action was to move fast to follow Nesta.

Feyre had been on his heels but if Nesta wanted nothing to do with him she wanted less to do with her sister. Cassian reached her first and Nesta stared at him with cold eyes. “We go now,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Nesta!” Feyre called out from behind, half running towards them.

“Now,” she demanded again her voice thick and trembling.

For a moment it seemed like Feyre was going to shift into her wings and fly after them but maybe there was something in his expression, or Nesta’s, which stopped her.

Nesta had clung to his neck the way a child clung to their mother but he got the impression she really wanted to use her hands on his throat in a different way. The rain followed them from Velaris to the mountains; Nesta spending the entire flight with her face buried into his shoulder.

Cassian would pretend along with her that it was only raindrops falling onto her cheeks.

If the betrayal had cut her, she’d resolutely decided to not let the wound show. She’d been cornered like a wild creature by one sister and the other, the one Nesta adored with the fullness of her heart, hadn’t shown to say anything at all.

When they arrived at the cabin it was Cassian’s pity for her which made him absorb the spite spilling from her lips. The force of his landing caused mud to splash up their legs and Nesta pulled away from him the second her feet hit the dirt.

Despite the rain and with dripping hair and sodden clothes she was beautiful. The words from her mouth, decidedly not so.

“Pathetic,” she hissed at him over the roar of the thundering rain and he somehow understood her meaning underneath – how Cassian was a grovelling sycophant to his High Lord who would never place a wing out of line and never fight back.

Nesta spoke with fists clenched at her sides. Cassian wondered if there was a part of her that wanted to strike him and he wondered if there was a part of him that would let her. She turned away, her back as rigid as before, every bump of bone showing through the fabric.

Cassian frowned. The dress was drenched, clinging to her flesh in a way it hadn’t when dry, illuminating what the material would otherwise hide.

He shouldn’t have been able to see the sharpness of her spine.

“Do we have a place to go or are you reducing me to sleeping in the mud?”

Those words were small, sharp cuts which stung though Nesta had no knowledge of how Cassian’s nights as a youth were spent doing just that, with the smell of putrefying leaves on his skin and clumps of dirt under his nails.

“Well?” she snapped, turning her head to glare at him from the corner of her eye. This was a glance which said he was beneath her, that she didn’t need to turn to address him, that the sight of him offended her glorious eyes.

What Cassian saw painted a different picture; tinged pink eyes, and a red nose. The skin around her eyelids swollen.

He let the stings dissipate. Nesta had been thrown from one world into another and from that one into something new. He would hold his tongue.

“This way, sweetheart.” Well, to an extent.

They trudged across the mud, Cassian’s feet sinking into the earth as he overtook Nesta to show her the way and he didn’t bother glancing behind him to see if she followed. She had no choice, there was nowhere else for her to go.

Rain had seeped into Cassian’s clothes, his skin damp and his wet hair dripped water down the back of the neck. He was feeling wet and miserable and wondered how worse this was for Nesta in her heavy woollen dress.

His siphons emitted a soft red glow and that was all there was; them, the rain and the glow in the darkness. Not even the moon greeted them.

***

The cabin was a welcome sight.

Their belongings were there, mostly Cassian’s with some provisions Feyre had arranged for Nesta. The door creaked on the hinges as Cassian stepped into familiar, if slightly musty, surroundings.

A perfume of earth and open skies lay underneath the dust and he inhaled the scent through his nose and into his lungs. He hadn’t been here in so long with wars and commitments keeping him far away; but if Velaris was his home, this place was his sanctuary.

There was a shuffling behind him and for a moment, lost in euphoria, Cassian forgot he wasn’t alone.

Nesta stood in the entrance, surveying her new domain. Her wet hair had unravelled from her coronet braid and tendrils clung onto the side of her face. A fat raindrop travelled from her temple past her cheek and hung from her jaw before finally dripping onto her collar.

Cassian frowned again.

Nesta’s dress buttons had popped open in the flight and he saw her neck and collar bone, a strange sharpness protruding from the stark white of her skin. Shadows, he told himself, from the candle that had flamed into life. They cast shapes and make everything harsh.

Nesta’s fists were now balled into her gown as a puddle grew around her. If she noticed Cassian’s gaze she never let on and continued to sweep her eyes around the room with a bored detachment.

“This is it,” she said, “my prison for the indefinite future.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “If Feyre was going to keep me caged she should have at least made a gilded one.”

Yes, he wanted to say, because your residence was so lavish.

“Move,” but Nesta didn’t wait for Cassian to step aside before pushing past him, head high and eyes forward. She stopped in the living room, her head turning left to right as she took in more of her surroundings. Her face gave nothing away as she scrutinised the spacious open living space which branched into the enclosed kitchen.

Cassian shook his head and ground his teeth as he closed the door behind her, the wind bringing sheets of rain into the cabin. A trail of water led across the floor to where Nesta stood.

The middle of the cabin was lighter, framed by the multiple fae lights and candles, and Cassian saw so much more. Nesta’s skin was white all over but her pale hands had red, cracked knuckles and dark circles like old bruises hung underneath her eyes. A shudder rippled through her.

Rain smashed against the window panes and Cassian looked to the vast inglenook fireplace which took over one full side of the cabin.

The hearth was filled with grey ash and lumps of half burnt wood and the basket aside the fireplace held strips for kindling. There were no pieces sizable enough to get a full fire going and getting a fire burning was exactly what they needed.

“Upstairs and to the left,” he said and Nesta turned to him. “That’s where your room will be. Mine’s next to it, same side. Both will warm up quick when the fire’s lit as the floorboards heat too.” Cassian jerked his head to the stairs, “Go and get changed, I’ll grab wood for the fire.”

Her face, one of permanent indifference and as smooth as porcelain, changed. The expression lasted only seconds before Nesta schooled it into something passing for neutral.

“Fine, I shouldn’t have expected you to be prepared.”

She stormed past him, leaving enough space so not a single part of them touched, not her dress brushing against his leathers – nothing.

Cassian waited until she’d gone before releasing a sigh. He hadn’t imagined what he saw; her eyes wide in alarm, flickering to the fireplace and back, a jerk of her body like someone had slapped her with the palm of their hand.

He’d best watch for that again.

***

A sandstone path ran down the left side of the cabin which wound around a small vegetable patch, a smaller pool and down into the sloped garden. At the very bottom was an alcove of trees and the shed containing Cassian’s axe, a chopping block and, if he was lucky, some pre-cut pieces.

Through the haze of rain, the distant lights of a camp flickered beyond. Cassian was fortunate to have this place for himself, not that he didn’t reside in the centre of camp on occasion to make his presence known, but this was his slice of comfort in the otherwise endless trudge.

Now, this place was also hers, for however long deemed necessary.

The rain bounced off the paving slabs as he approached his destination. The shed was old but well-kept and thankfully, stocked with thick slabs of timber.

“Thank you, old friend,” he said with a hand to one of the trees. They were fast growing and long burning, a house warming gift from Rhys half a century prior.

Cassian gathered what he needed and turned back, the cabin an angular silhouette outlined upon the backdrop of the night sky, the mountains looming some distance away. The candles and fae lights had lit the building up from within and shone through the dark at every window.

He was halfway up the path when he noticed how bright they lit Nesta’s new room.

Cassian had never been concerned with decoration, shoving a blanket onto a bed and gossamer curtains onto the window had been enough, but now he realised how thin those curtains were, how visible the room was from the outside.

Nesta wouldn’t be able to see him, not with his leathers black against the night, but he saw everything as though she stood before him in the flesh.

She’d untied the laces that bound the stays of her dress and Cassian imagined the wet thud as it fell to the floor.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted Nesta in front of him, unrobing for him, those long, graceful fingers sliding up her collarbone and dipping down towards the ribbons of her bodice. In his dreams he would help her, his thick fingers weaving into hers, pulling at the material until it gave way to pools of silk and satin on the ground.

Imagination gave him options.

Maybe she would have been naked, with expanses of creamy skin readily available for his viewing or maybe there would have been a delicate piece of chiffon covering her like there was now, something flimsy for him to move aside.

He would have started by kneeling. His fingertips would trace the skin of her ankles before moving upwards to her calves, her knees and to her thighs which he would have kissed until she was breathless. Finally, he would have travelled upwards with his mouth, towards the apex.

This was his fantasy. Smoothing his palms over her curves, travelling up the cord of her spine, his tongue sliding over her skin, teasing with his teeth and all the while her breath would turn into pants, his name a prayer in her mouth.

This was a dream. Nothing more.

He stood alone in the dark, pounding heartbeat thundering in his ears and pouring rain saturating his hair as he spied on a female he now never hoped to hold.

By the Mother though, her body was far from what his mind had conjured and his heartbeat turned into a pain sinking between his ribs.

He’d thought he’d seen glimpses but here was the truth.

Her collarbone jutted out severely while her breasts and curves of her buttocks shrunk as her starved body ate away at whatever flesh it found. Nesta’s ribs - Cauldron her ribs – Cassian was able to count every one, the indents of her bone visible as though her skin was the thinnest paper. When she turned, he saw the same with the column of her spine.

He swallowed the lump in his throat down, a sting in his eyes that was nothing to do with the chilled wind.

***

Inside the cabin, Cassian dried out the wood and lit the fire, the red and orange flames dancing in the hearth.

Nesta might not eat but he would try and convince her, starting with something simple and small which would fill her but not make her sick. Shoving a plate of meat in front of her face was a bad idea so he decided on a light broth consisting of flavoured water and leafy vegetables and herbs grown from his garden.

Cassian was surprised she came when he called her down but was pleased when she did. Nesta stepped along the floor with bare feet, a new gown just as thick as the last covering the bones of her body.

She stayed close to the wall when she passed through the living space, the fire cracking and snapping opposite and she eyed the flames as though they would reach across the room and snatch her.

Cassian wasn’t sure where this fear had come from, tried to dredge any memory of where they’d faced fire and came up wanting. He’d ask her – not now – but when they’d reached a point of peace.

Still, she walked toward him, her throat moving as she swallowed fast.

“I’ve made us dinner,” and he gestured to the two watery bowls in front of him. Opposite each other. Face to face. Her eyes narrowed but she sat, suspicion on her face.

“What is this slop?”

He took a deep breath. Imagined her words as darts and his skin as impenetrable armour.

“An Illyrian broth; vegetables, herbs, some spices and the thinnest slices of poultry you’ll ever find.”

“It looks revolting.”

A muscle twitched in Cassian’s jaw. The dish was plain, colourless and watery but was filled with flavour and had what Nesta needed nutritionally.

He would refrain from telling her this was the staple of Illyrian’s recovering from sickness or injury, that he’d spooned this liquid into the dribbling mouths of multitudes of his brethren over the years and how he wasn’t above doing the same to her.

“Try it,” was all he said. “You might like it.”

“Doubtful.”

But she picked up the spoon, a tremor in her hand. Fear, withdrawal, or exhaustion he didn’t know. Maybe all three. Maybe rage.

Nesta bent her head forward, bringing the spoon to her lips and as she did, her dress, far too large for her frame gaped at the collar once again showing Cassian the sharpness of the bone under her skin.

Something sat heavy in his stomach, something like guilt and shame. He’d once thought of her as sharp tongued and soft curves, his mouth watering at the promise of the swell of her breasts and the shape of her backside.

His thoughts had been occupied with images of grabbing her with his hands, fingers digging into the folds of her flesh while they pounded the force of their desires onto each other. Nesta was no less beautiful now but when he thought of her body, thought of what he knew, he considered differently as to what his body would do with hers.

His fingers would likely bruise her, leaving crescent moons into her skin and the bones of her spine would be obvious to his gaze. Now, he wanted to use his build to hover over her, to envelop her with his wings and cradle the back of her skull with the palm of one hand and cup her cheek with the other.

Cassian needed to make this situation right but he didn’t know where to start other than this meagre offering of broth.

Nesta ate two spoons, possibly three, but at least she ate, her eyes fluttering closed as she savoured her meal, the shadows of her eyelashes playing on her cheekbones. He smiled at her enjoyment, however brief, feeling his heart soar.

Nesta opened her eyes and looked straight at him. Cassian dropped his smile and her eyes narrowed.

I’m happy you like the broth, he wanted to say, however little you take. I’m happy you tried. I think you’re dying. I don’t want you to die. I want you to want to live.

A log fell in the hearth and banged against the grate, popping into the air and Nesta flinched, her eyes snapping towards the sound.

The flames seemed to hypnotise her as they whirled among the wood, consuming what they needed in order to grow. Wherever she was in that moment she wasn’t in the room with him.  

The moment passed and Nesta snapped her head back to Cassian, slamming the spoon into the bowl.

“I’m not here for your entertainment.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop staring at me like I’m a festival showpiece.”

Cassian frowned, “I wasn’t staring.”

“Tell your gawping eyes that.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again. He was exhausted, not only from the long day but from arguing with Rhys about the plan, and from convincing Feyre that he and Nesta would be fine. His blood, already on the rise, had gained extra heat when Amren made her parting comment to him and all this was before he began flying.

“I wasn’t staring,” he repeated, “believe me when I say there’s nothing worth looking at.”

His temper was still hot, irritation singing a song in his veins and this was default for him, the well-travelled road to flinging insults.

It was a road Nesta travelled herself.

“Well, believe me when I say that even if I’m nothing I’m still worth twice of you, bastard.”

“You’ve been exiled to the camps so that’s not what your sister thinks. Either of them.” He gestured around with his hand, “Do you see Elain begging to be let in the door?”

Nesta’s nostrils flared, her hands now clenched into two fists, those red cracked knuckles on display.

“Well, this shows what your ‘friends’ think of you, if I’m worth little to nothing in their eyes and they have you taking care of me?”

“You should be thankful, sweetheart. No one else volunteered to listen to your temper tantrums.”

“Let me ease your burden then.” She stood, jolting the table and the bowl moved, spilling liquid over the side. “I would hate to bore you with one of my childish tantrums.”

“By all means, take yourself off to bed. You’re obviously in need of a nap.”

Nesta bared her teeth at him and Cassian schooled his face into one of boredom. She turned, her gown brushing against the furniture and as she passed through the living room, she grabbed a thick blanket draped across one of the chairs.

There was a change to her face as she went, fleeting but not fleeting enough for his sharp eyes. Regret? Yes. What she regretted he didn’t know but the snarl had also turned into a smirk, a twist of her mouth which screamed, I am victorious.

What had she won? The prize was a night alone in an unlit room with a blanket and empty belly.

As she left, the bored expression slid from Cassian’s face to be replaced by a furrowed brow.

Nesta was playing a game, one which required her to start fights so she could flaunt from the room as though leaving were her choice. He’d seen her grip, the furrow of her own forehead and the stark whites of her eyes.

She didn’t like the fire and she didn’t want to eat - or she couldn’t eat.

All Nesta’s choices had been stripped away from her in one afternoon and her decision to exit swiftly and in outrage was all she had.

He let her. He goaded her, stoking the small flame she held burning until she felt something, even if that emotion was irritation and anger - anything as long as it wasn’t cloying fear. If Cassian told her to leave then she would have stayed in her misery to spite him.

Cassian lifted a clay pot lid, surreptitiously positioned beside him on a chair, to cover her bowl. He would leave the dish outside her door with a slab of buttered bread. Maybe she would eat if it wasn’t in front of his watchful eyes.

He would eat his own in his room, the space of the kitchen and the living area seeming too big now, too empty without Nesta’s presence.

As he passed by the hearth, he lowered the flames with his siphons, letting them burn down. As he did, he thought of another fireplace, in another home, in a time which seemed forever ago.

He would help her even if she hated him for it. Cassian would prefer her vitriol to the nothingness living inside her where even her scent had turned glacial; ice cold to the bone.

So yes, Cassian would let the embers burn low for now but he was a creature of air and flame. He was good at starting fires.

TAGGING:

@nehemikkele

 You are the only person who has ever requested a tag from me so thank you so much! :)

[capitainelevi]

Drabble Challenge:

4 (Levi) or 128 (Petra)

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️ I combined them, I hope it`s alright!

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece.

"Don’t touch me. We’re fighting." and “Who gave you that black eye?”

For you

Underground boxer Levi

Word count: 1636

“Levi, you can`t keep this away from Petra much longer.”

Levi hissed when the disinfectant Isabel applied made contact with his wounds. He knew this time there was no keeping the secret from his wife, not in the miserable shape the fight brought him into. A black eye. A split lip. Two bruised ribs. He had gotten cocky and underestimated his opponent, contrary to Farlan`s warnings. His opponent was no match for Levi in the end, none of them were, but this fight had been his most difficult ever since he started down this path. Levi hoped Petra would forgive him for his actions, which all had a noble purpose.

Farlan looked at his oldest friend with hurt in his eyes. The guilt for helping Levi was starting to make its way into his heart, along with doubt- “Is it for the glory?”

Farlan`s distrust in his motives was the hardest hit Levi took that evening, and one look at Isabel`s face felt like a knife to his heart- “Tsk. Don`t be an idiot.”

Every punch Levi threw was for his daughter and wife. For his friends. For a chance for them to escape the hellhole that life condemned them to. He took no pleasure in the glory that came with it. The crowds screaming his name over and over again for every fight left him cold. Every time his fist made contact with someone`s skin, the only thing on Levi`s mind was the image of his wife, more dead than alive, looking to sell her body to any man willing to give her a piece of bread. The memory still haunted Levi`s sleep all those years later.

Petra`s father contracted the flu during one of the outbreaks, and she spent all of their money to try to get him medical care, but it was all in vain. After he passed away, Petra was left all alone, with no prospect for a decent future. The hunger drove her to the streets, and the first person she approached was a gruff-looking man. One glance at her and the image of his mother flashed in his mind, a woman too kind for the world she was born into. Levi did not have any second thoughts about what he needed to do. He took his coat off and wrapped it around her trembling body before he took her to the modest house he shared with Isabel and Farlan. He got her washed and fed and assured her that no one would hurt her while he was alive. Levi offered her the safest position in their gang and a place in their home, secretly happy that her cleaning skills matched his.

As the years passed, Levi could feel himself caring more and more for her every day. It took Farlan`s intervention of him calling Levi a “blind bastard” for not noticing his feelings were not one-sided for him to finally get the courage to ask Petra out on an official date. Six months later, they were married in a small ceremony, and two years after that, their family grew. The day Petra found out she was pregnant, they decided their child deserved a modest life, but with both of their parents in it. That day, they both promised they would stay away from the illegal activities they used to be involved in. But in reality, it was more difficult than either of them had anticipated, and the moment when he and Petra went to bed hungry every night, Levi made up his mind. Getting into illegal fights and making his way to the top in a matter of months was easy for Levi, who still lived by the teachings his uncle gave him. He wondered if Kenny was still alive and if he ever came to watch him fight.

“You think I enjoy any of this? Fighting in this shithole instead of putting my daughter to sleep?”

Farlan felt guilty, seeing the hurt on Levi`s face, but he had to be sure. He was tired of seeing Levi beaten up, of having to lie to Petra`s face daily, and he knew Levi must have felt even more consumed by the pain.

“I`m sorry, Levi. I…”

Farlan`s apology got interrupted as Levi got up and made his way out the door without looking back at his friends. He just wanted to go home and hold his daughter and wife in his arms, but based on the shape he was going home in, he knew that was the last thing he was going to do that night. Levi made his way back home with his head down as looking at the hungry women and children out on the streets made his stomach churn, knowing he could do nothing to help them.

When he got in the house, Levi was glad his wife`s back was turned to the door, and he had a few seconds more before seeing the hurt and disappointment on her face. Petra heard him come in, but her frustration with their living conditions took up all her attention.

“Levi, the sink broke down for the hundredth time this week.”

Petra sighed, wishing they had the money to get a new one, but with the way it was going, they were barely affording to put food on the table for the three of them. Her life with Levi was better than anything she would have imagined when she found herself thrown on the streets, but sometimes, Petra found herself dreaming of a small house above the ground. Her daughter would play in the sun every day while she and her husband watched from the porch. They would have a small garden and dinner outside every evening.

Levi didn`t respond to her and sat down at the kitchen table. He closed his eyes, waiting for Petra`s reaction, and it came a few seconds later. He heard glass shatter as Petra dropped the glass she was in the middle of washing at the sight of her husband all beaten up.

Petra barely whispered- “Who gave you that black eye?”

Levi finally opened his eyes, and his heart broke at the hurt painted on his wife`s face. He hated lying to her, but he knew Petra would never agree with him putting himself in danger over and over again, even if it was for the sake of their family. He opened his mouth to lie to her again when Petra interrupted him.

“Levi, if you dare say you got into another street fight on the way back home…”

Levi sighed and put his head down in shame. He loved her too much to put her through this every time, but he knew the truth would hurt her more.

“But it`s the truth.”

Levi was surprised when his wife lost control and raised his voice at him. Petra was the kindest, most calm woman he had ever met, even in the shitty world they lived in.

“I`m not stupid, Levi! Stop lying to me!”

He got up from the table, feeling the urge to wrap his arms around her, to let her know through his kisses every thought he could not express through words.

I love you.

I`m doing this for our family.

Our daughter deserves to grow up in the sunlight.

Levi couldn`t help feeling hurt when his wife pushed him away from her- “Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Levi turned away from her, too afraid to look at the hurt in her eyes- “I`m so tired, Petra.”

His guilt got worse when he heard his wife`s soft cry from behind her- “You promised me we were done with that life, Levi.”

When Levi didn`t have anything to say to her, Petra crumbled down on the floor. She loved her husband more than anything, and while their life was hard, she couldn`t help but feel selfish. She didn`t want to be a widow, and she didn`t want her daughter to grow up fatherless.

“Our daughter deserves to know her father.”

Levi broke down, unable to keep his pain to himself anymore- “Our daughter deserves the world! Do you know how hard it is to see you so frail?”

Levi pulled the tank of money out of his coat and threw it on the table- “Do you think I could get this by sweeping floors in a bar? Fight by fight, and I`m closer to our dream, Petra. With every jaw, I break I`m closer to taking you and Lizzie up to see the sun and not through a shitty hole in the ceiling!”

Petra just cried harder, and she finally let her husband pick her up in his arms. She knew how much Levi loved them, but she didn`t want him to throw his life away in an attempt to make theirs better. Levi kissed her, putting all his love into it, and she embraced it. Petra put her head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear- “I just hate seeing you like this, Levi. I hate seeing you get hurt.”

Levi wrapped his arms tighter around her, hoping his wife and daughter could have the quiet life they deserved. But he was willing to fight to offer it to them- “I know, love. It will all be okay.” He kissed her lips over and over again until he felt Petra calmed down in his arms.

“Do you want to go hold Lizzie?”

Levi nodded and followed his wife into the small room his daughter was sleeping peacefully in, unaware of their parents` struggles. Levi picked up his daughter into his arms and kissed the top of her head, and she hummed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Levi fell asleep looking into his wife`s beautiful amber eyes, with the thought of finally admiring them under the blue sky one day.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙6

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series), nocturnal playtime, unwanted touching.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: I’m working on more drabbles and Eye of the Storm! But for now, enjoy some Andy.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your appointment went as well as it could have. The doctor ran bloodwork and several other tests as Andy nodded knowingly as if to say ‘I told you so’, which he also did aloud several times after. The drive home was a reiteration of what you should, and more enthusiastically, what you shouldn’t do. 

It was really starting to feel like he believed you were an actual child. Your own father had never talked to you in such a way. You couldn’t say the same for your mother but even she could reel it in long enough that you didn’t feel like a complete moron. Andy just seemed to latch onto every mistake you made and sink his teeth in until he tasted blood.

And like the teenager he treated you as, when you got back to his house, you stormed up to the guest room and slammed the door. You fell onto the bed and screamed into the pillow. Oh yeah, that long lost adolescent rage returned. Then it all drained from every inch of you and you rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

You could hear Andy below. You listened to him moving around, the decisive click of his polished leather shoes. He climbed the stairs and you heard him stop outside your door. He sighed and retreated to his own room. Your day off an you’d spend it like this; raging at your new warden.

The knock on your door made you flinch. 

“Hey,” Andy’s voice sounded decisively through the door. “I’m going into the office for the rest of the day. I’ll be in around six.” He paused and the handle jiggled but didn’t turn. “You know where everything is.”

You didn’t answer him. You waited until he left, the footsteps on the staircase, the front door, the soft rollover of his car engine. You sat up and pulled out your phone. A single voicemail; your parents’ number.

“Hey, kiddo,” Your dad’s voice rose from the speaker. “Your mom wants to know when you’re getting the rest of your stuff.” A slight pause and a cough. “You know I don’t care and you take your time but if she asks, I told ya to come get it… Love you.” The line buzzed. “And your mom loves you too but she’s just as stubborn as you, you know? Well, anyway, uh, bye.” Another glaring silence. “Oh, and it’s still my house. I’ll be happy to see ya, kiddo.”

You saved the message and dropped your phone to bounce on the mattress. You put your head in your hands as you tried to resist the overhwelming swell of sadness that overcame you. You didn’t care about your stuff and you couldn’t bring it here. You wouldn’t. Sell it, toss it, you didn’t care.

You sat up and dropped your hands to the bed in defeat. You were such a fuck up.

🌙

You avoided Andy for a few days. You found excuses to stay in your room when you weren’t working and even spent a good deal of time in the backyard, weeding the overgrown garden. It didn’t matter. Autumn was close and most of the plants were dead. It must have been her job, or maybe a cherished hobby.

Aside from Andy’s prickly nature, she made it harder. That stranger; Laurie. You were an imposter in her place; usurping her as she laid in a hospital entirely unaware. You only knew what the press put out. He never said much about it. Did you really expect him to? All he ever spoke about was you, the baby, and everything you did wrong.

After a rather long day at work, made longer by your suddenly returned appetite and the smell of cinnamon and coffee, you returned to the house and found yourself back in the yard. You sat at the patio table and scrolled through your phone. 

Felicia wanted to meet up the next night. You hadn’t told her yet. If she took you for drinks, as she always did, she’d figure it out pretty quickly. Well, why were you hiding it? You wouldn’t be able to for much longer. You already felt a little bigger, wider at least. Would it be so bad to tell? To not be alone?

You swiped away her text and bit your thumbnail. You’d think about it and send your answer before you went to bed.

The screen door clattered and you sat up straight. You looked up as Andy emerged and strode across the deck. He had a beer in hand and placed it on the glass table as he neared the other side of the table. His tie was gone, his top button undone, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.

“Here you are,” He said as he pulled out a chair and sat. “How was work?”

You shrugged and turned over your phone. “It was work,” You sat back and crossed your arms. “Do I ask you? Is that the right thing to do?”

He chuckled and popped the cap of the beer and took a swig. “Well, it was an exciting day. Had a defendant attack the judge. Didn’t get very close but a they took him out,” He turned the bottle on the table. “He got me good on his way out, even if he missed my face.”

You let your arms fall to rest over your stomach. You didn’t know what to say. Did he want pity? Surely you couldn’t relate to his courthouse crusades.

“Well, that sounds… scary.” You offered.

“It happens. Not a lot but you can never predict people,” He took another gulp of beer. “What are you doing out here? It’s gonna rain soon.”

“Yeah?” You looked up at the grey clouds. “I never minded the rain much.”

He was quiet as he picked at the label of his bottle. His toe tapped and he pushed his shoulders back.

“Your mother came to see me,” He said gently. “Said something about tossing your stuff out on the lawn.”

“Shit,” You winced. “She shouldn’t have--”

“You haven’t talked to her?”

“And say what, exactly? She made her feelings about me pretty clear.” You played with the case of your phone as you turned it over. “My dad called me but… I don’t care about all that shit.”

“We can go get it. It’s not--”

You laughed and shook your head. “Why? You’re so eager to erase my former life, why would you care?” You threw your hand up and planted your elbow on the table. “It’s just books. A few stuffed animals. I never really could afford much of value. The poor pauper girl.”

“I never--”

You stood and slid your phone into your pocket. You still wore the plain black shirt and matching pants from work. Your fly was half undone to relieved the pressure and your shirt had caught in your waistband. You pulled the hem down and pushed in your chair.

“I’m hungry. I’m going to get changed and make something to eat.” You said.

You left him there and went inside. After slipping into some leggings and a loose tee, you swept into the kitchen and surveyed your options. Some linguine with chicken and spinach. That didn’t sound too bad.

You pulled out a chicken breast and the cutting board. You put the water on boil and heated the frying pan. You started to chop up the chicken into chunks as you heard the back door. Andy appeared and set his bottle down across from you as he stood on the other side of the island. It gave a hollow clink; empty, already.

“So, what are you making?” He leaned on the marble.

“Pasta,” You answered curtly. “You have any hot peppers? Hot sauce?” You opened the fridge. “I wouldn’t mind something spicy.”

“Check the door,” He said. “You must be past the nausea. You know, I always heard the cravings were the worst part. I never really considered pickles anything to drool over but---”

“Stop, please,” You interjected as you turned back with a jar of banana peppers. You could dice them up and mix them into the sauce. “It’s miserable. All of it.”

He sighed and stood straight. He rounded the counter and opened the cupboard. He added oil to the pan and it crackled. He put it back and turned to grab the spinach and rinsed it in the colander. He set it on the counter and turned back to watch you slice the chicken.

“You gonna keep this up?” He asked.

“What?” You set the knife down and dumped the chicken into the pan and washed your hands..

“You gotta try to meet me halfway,” He turned.

“Meet you halfway? Andy, christ,” You spat as you stirred the chicken and seared it. “How much more can I give you?”

“Bit of courtesy, maybe,” He said. “I’m trying here but you won’t even--”

“There you go again, speaking to me like a child. I am not a child. Let’s start there,” You pointed at him with the spatula. “You should know that.”

He considered you, his blue eyes drifted then returned to you. He gave a small smile. “I definitely know you’re not a child.”

“I’m serious.”

He nodded and exhaled. “Alright, I’ll try to ease off.”

You squinted at him. “I really wanna believe you will.”

He scoffed and brushed past you. He went to the fridge and grabbed another beer. He flipped the cap off and leaned against the door.

“I’m a lawyer. I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “But for the sake… of the baby, I’ll take my foot off the pedal. A little.”

“Cool,” You set the spatula down. “So you won’t mind if I go out tomorrow night. My friend Felicia wants to have dinner.”

“Dinner?” He repeated. You raised a brow. “Yeah, fine. That sounds like fun.”

“Great,” You smiled and grabbed the linguine noodles. “And you know, you’ll get a night to yourself. Win-win.”

🌙

You texted Felicia after dinner and for the first time in a while, you felt excited about something. So excited you found it hard to settle down. A bigger problem because you had an opening shift the next morning and you were already constantly exhausted.

You laid in bed and tossed and turned. You stared at the ceiling, then rolled over and stared at the window, then tried laying on your stomach until your leg fell asleep. It was at least an hour of endless turmoil, trying to force yourself to doze, before you just resigned to blinking into the dark.

You listened to the gentle spatter of rain. As always, Andy was right. It was really annoying. You sighed and peeked out the window as the rivulets streamed down the glass. The moonlight shone through the droplets in silver orbs. You turned onto your side and counted them, hoping it would coax you to sleep.

Then you heard it. At first, you were certain it was nothing. The wind, maybe. But it continued, steady, slowly mounting. The heavy breaths coated with sultry groans. You froze and craned your head to look over your shoulder as you listened. You’d left your bathroom door open without thinking and could hear a little too much through the one at the other end.

You dropped your head back to the pillow as the voice continued; deep and drawn out. It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on; what the only other person in the house was doing. Andy was only human after all. Well, you’d fucked him almost on sight. You were no saint. Yet it felt so wrong, hearing him like that. Worse that as you closed your eyes, you could only imagine him in the other room with his hand…

You pulled the duvet over your ear and pressed your head to the pillow. You felt a tickle between your thighs and squeezed them together. Ignore it, just listen to the rain. But his voice only got louder and louder until it finally peaked in a sharp grunt. Your lips parted and you shuddered. He was done, thank god.

It was silent for a few minutes, all but the gentle patter of rain. Then the bed groaned through the wall and soft footsteps. You were tense as you listened, moreso as you heard him near the other side of the bathroom door. 

Shit, he had to clean himself up and… 

The door opened and you heard his feet on the tile. He let out a growled and cranked the sink on. Your door was still wide open. It sounded as if he was right beside you as the water flowed and his breathing evened out. He turned off the faucet but lingered in the bathroom.

Then he stood in the door to your room. You could feel him there, looking at you. You were thankful your back was to him. Slowly, he crept closer and you felt him looming over you, just at the side of your bed. Your nerves were on fire, every hair on your body was on end.

The blanket moved just a little as he tugged at it. You made yourself stay still as he paused, waiting for you to react. He let out a long breath and yanked harder to dislodge the duvet from under you. You squeezed your eyes shut, terrified. You should say something, do something, tell him to fuck off!

He bared your leg and the cool air raised goosebumps along your skin. Your shorts offered little coverage and had ridden up your ass. He let the blanket rest on the other side of your leg and his fingertips grazed your calf and thigh. He touched your ass and pressed more firmly against it.

Then suddenly he recoiled. You heard him swallow and he pulled the blanket back over you. He turned and retreated into the bathroom, your door clicking closed behind him, the second which led into his own room. The silence was pierced by his muffled voice.

“Shit.”

[imaginejamesandsirius]

I know you have done something similar but maybe non-binary Sirius?

((A/N: Combined with the prompt “I love your blog so much! Please could you do literally any fluff after Sirius runs away. 💕💕💕”))

James couldn't decide if he was surprised or not. On the one hand, it wasn't much of a surprise to see Sirius looking downtrodden or outright miserable after talking to their parents. On the other hand, they didn't usually show up on James's doorstep in the middle of the night, crying.

He wrapped them in a hug without thinking about it twice. He should probably ask them what had happened, but for now, he just wanted to hold them. He could get answers later.

"I can't go back," Sirius sobbed. They didn't usually cry; they said they hated how it made their face all sticky, and they could never deal with the headache that followed.

James frowned but didn't ask what they meant by it. They'd said, dozens of times, that they didn't think they could go back to Grimmauld Place. The problem was that they'd never said it after showing up at the Potter's House, in the middle of the night.

He just held them, then waited.

After a while, he pulled them inside. Sirius had brought a bag with them. They'd never done that before. James would think about that later. For now, he was going to make sure they were warm and dry, because it was a cold rain out there, and they were shivering.

*

Sirius didn't want to talk about it, and James didn't push. Sirius had never been able to really keep a secret from him, so he figured that they'd come out with it sometime soon.

In the meantime, they spent time together and pretended like Sirius's parents didn't exist. They played gobstones and tried to bake biscuits-- with limited success. The frosting was good, even if the biscuits weren't, so they both sat on the counter, passing a spoon back and forth.

"Hullo kids," Dad said, like nothing was the matter. James didn't know if he knew more about what was going on with Sirius or not, but he hadn't said a word about it where James could hear him-- and he knew that meant Sirius hadn't been talked to about it, either, because they'd been attached to James's side ever since showing up on his doorstep; it was almost a week and a half, now, and James couldn't be more happy to have them around.

"Hi Dad," Sirius said, and James tried not to stare. They normally refused to call him that, instead calling him Mr. Potter or-- when they were in a good enough mood-- Potter-Dad.

"Are we in your way?" James asked.

"Nope," he said. He puttered around, grabbing a tea bag and cream. He flicked his wand and the kettle filled, then whistled a few seconds later as it got hot enough. "What've you been up to?"

"We tried making biscuits, but they didn't turn out," Sirius said.

"Ah. I know a thing or two about making biscuits, and your mother won't be back for a while yet. What say we try another batch together? If you sprogs are feeling up to it, that is."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then their eyes glanced over to James, who gave a small shrug as if to say that it was up to them-- he didn't care one way or the other. "Sure," Sirius said with a smile. "That sounds like fun."

"Splendid," Dad said. He took a sip of his tea, and then they started discussing what type of biscuits they wanted to try this time.

Sirius wanted chocolate, so they all agreed to do chocolate biscuits. With Dad's help, these turned out edible.

"That was fun," Sirius said after Dad left the room. Their legs swung back and forth where they were sat up on the counter again, and James stood beside them.

"It was," he agreed. "Maybe we'll ask if he can teach us to do a cake next week or summat."

Sirius snorted. "Maybe we should stick to biscuits until we can manage it on our own."

"Mm, perhaps you're right." James nibbled on another biscuit. He should've stopped three biscuits ago, but what was the summer for if not overindulging? He'd never be able to get away with this in the middle of Quidditch season, not if he wanted to go on to play professionally-- which Sirius, as the ever faithful partner that they were, insisted he could accomplish.

"I don't want to bother him, though."

"I'm not sure either of us have ever bothered him. Not in the middle of the day, at least," he added, because whenever they were making noise in the middle of the night, Dad did get a bit annoyed if he woke.

*

"We should go shopping," James declared.

"What for?" Sirius asked.

"Muggle clothes. Now that you can have more, you should."

"Should I?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you look bloody wonderful in them," James said. "Duh."

"A lovely sentiment, but I haven't the money for it."

"Don't be stupid, my money is your money."

"I'm not sure your parents would agree," Sirius said.

"Our parents," James said, stressing 'our' because really, they should know better by now, "know that it's only a matter of time before we get married. Besides, even if something stupid happened and we broke up, you'd still be their child, in which case my money would still be your money. So let's shop."

"Are you going to let me say no to this?" they asked.

"Nope. I know that you love shopping, and we have nothing to do today."

"I get the feeling that you'll drag me out whether I agree to it or not," Sirius said, getting to their feet.

"See? We're practically married already, don’t you agree?"

Sirius rolled their eyes, but James caught their smile as they turned away.

"Is that a yes?" James called after them.

"You sodding well know it is," Sirius yelled back, and then they were gone, up the stairs.

Was that a yes to going shopping, or were they finally agreeing to marry James? They'd been surprisingly non-committal about the future of their relationship, but only in word. Their actions made it clear how they felt about James, and even though they teased that they'd remain unattached for all their days, they also mentioned matters of the future. 'Our' house after they moved out of living with Mum and Dad, 'our' future pets, 'our' career paths and where they might lead.

James could chase after them and ask for a little illumination, but he supposed that it didn't matter. As long as they were happy, James was happy. Even better, Sirius was safe now-- and it was long past time that they had that for themself.

*

"Oh, Sirius dear, is that a new blouse?"

Sirius glanced down, even though they knew that it was. One that James had bought for them just the other day. They looked up at Mum, feeling guilty for a reason they couldn't put their finger on. All they knew was that it sodding sucked, churning their stomach for no good reason. "Erm. Yes."

"It looks lovely," Mum said with a smile.

"Thanks," Sirius replied, and then she walked away to continue carrying her gardening tools to the backyard shed. They looked down at their shirt again and plucked at the fabric.

They hadn't meant to stay that way for very long, but it's how James found them a minute later.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you... not like the shirt anymore?" he asked, face falling a little. He'd liked that shirt on Sirius almost as much as Sirius had liked it.

"No, it's great," they said, smiling at him. "Thanks for buying it for me."

"Anytime," James said, but he sounded a little thrown, like he'd missed a part of the conversation.

Sirius understood the feeling. All they knew was that one moment they felt bad about wearing it, and the next, it was like their life had finally found a balance again-- one where they could stay here with James and enjoy it every bit as much as they had when it had only been visiting.

[grasslandgirl]

Um, yes PLEASE write the Beverlin!

aaaaahhhhh lizz i wrote this AGES ago like the whole thing in the span of 24 hrs and kept meaning to post it and then forgetting to and blah blah blah and then here we are. anyway. she's long and sappy sorry not sorry

read golden as I open my eyes here on ao3!!

It was the kind of perfect summer evening that Beverly thought only happened in movies. They got ice cream from the local shop down the street after hanging out at the park all day, and an evening summer storm caught them mere minutes after Erlin had finally finished his cone on the walk home. The rain was cool against the hot concrete, a refreshing baptism following the heat of the summer day. The kind of day where everything was warm and joyous, and even sudden rushing rain couldn’t wash it away. They ran back to Erlin’s house, laughing and shouting, kicking the puddles forming in the street at one another- they were soaked already, what was the harm of a little more?

Beverly felt effortlessly young and happy, like he and Erlin were seven again and the world was simple. The pressure from his dad and school and the creeping uncertainty that’d started to follow Bev everywhere he went were washed away; and it was just him and Erlin.

He loved Erlin, of course. Loved him, maybe, as long as he’d known him. They’d been best friends for as long as Bev could remember, almost all of his early childhood memories included Erlin attached at his hip. It was the easy kind of childhood friendship where loving each other was never in question- until Bev turned fifteen and realized that he didn’t love Derlin or Cran the way he loved Erlin. That he didn’t imagine a life with his other friends, stretching forever into the future, like he did with Erlin. That he felt an awkward, twisting sensation in his stomach when he remembered the times they pretended to get married as children- huddled under a tree in Beverly’s back yard, holding hands, Bev with his mother’s apron draped over his shoulders, Erlin with flowers from their garden in his hair, promising to be best friends forever.

The feeling hung over Bev’s shoulders, the twin terrors of spending the rest of his life with his heart in a wrench everytime Erlin smiled at him, or telling Erlin the truth, only to lose him entirely.

But in the warm summer air, with cool rain droplets falling on his face and shoulders, Bev let the worry and the fear slough off- if only for the night. Nothing bad could happen; not when Erlin was laughing at him like he was, not when Bev could reach out and wipe a stray raindrop off the tip of Erlin’s nose, not when Erlin blushed bright red and watched Bev with wide eyes. They were electric and indestructible.

They were both soaked to the bone when they scrambled up the stairs to Erlin’s house, bursting through the door still laughing. Egwene shot them a glare from her perch at the kitchen island, but even that couldn’t break Bev’s giddy joy, not when Erlin was still giggling into his shoulder- both of them laughing at nothing. Egwene rolled her eyes, scowling back down at her book, but Bev caught the edge of a smile as he glanced back over his shoulder at her, before Erlin dragged him out of the kitchen and into the back of the house.

Erlin shoved an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats into Bev’s arms and pushed him towards the bathroom- “Take a shower, dude,” he demanded, the edge of his voice undermined by the fact that he still couldn’t stop laughing, his smile gone soft and slant. “You’re not getting sick again on my watch.” They fell into another peal of laughter, silently remembering when Bev caught a miserable head cold sleeping over at Erlin’s a few years past. Waking up to Erlin hovering over him, soup and tea in hand, before promptly spilling the long-since-lukewarm liquids all over Beverly as he sat up.

Bev had spent more nights at the Kindleaf house than he could count, the smell of Erlin’s shampoo was as familiar and comforting as his own. There was always a certain secret thrill whenever he ended up having to shower at Erlin’s. The idea of spending the next few days smelling like Erlin, his spiced mint shampoo and conditioner, wondering if Erlin noticed it as much as Beverly did.

When he finished, Bev threw his soaking clothes into the dryer- Erlin’s were already in there- and started it. He shot his mom a quick text that he was sleeping over at Erlin’s- an occurrence so common it barely warranted a warning text anymore- and shuffled through the suddenly silent house towards Erlin’s room.

Erlin was perched on his bed, hair soft and damp from his own shower, face lit from below as he peered down at his phone. The t-shirt he was wearing was a couple sizes too big- maybe one of Egwene’s old high school sports shirts, if Bev had to guess- and it draped over his shoulder and bunched up at his hip where his leg was propped up, knee to his chest. He hadn’t noticed Bev silently hovering at the door yet, and Beverly had the heartwrenching opportunity to watch Erlin at rest, in a quiet moment of solitude, unaware he was being watched.

Bev wrapped the image up in his mind, tying it with a bow and placing it on a shelf for safe keeping. He’d imagined a life, a future like this with Erlin more times than he could count- living together, sharing a room like this, seeing Erlin before bed every night and first thing in the morning every day. He could imagine a thousand moments like this, spread out over a lifetime; snapshots of intimacy and privacy taken from the inside of his and Erlin’s life together.

Beverly broke the moment, pushing the door to Erlin’s room wider as he walked in so it would squeak. Erlin looked up with a tired smile, reaching over to the lamp on his bedside table and clicking it on. The lamp cast a small bubble of golden light, Erlin and Bev on opposite edges of it.

Erlin had a trundle bed, a smaller mattress underneath his bed frame that rolled out on wheels, that he’d already pulled out and thrown a pillow atop of for Beverly. He’d loved the trundle when they were little, had thought it was so cool that Erlin had a built in place for him to sleep when he spent the night.

But the quiet, greedy part of Bev- the one that saved memories of Erlin blushing when he touched his face, the one that daydreamed about an impossible life together- wished they’d gotten rid of the second bed years ago. Wished that maybe, if there wasn’t a second mattress, Bev could come up with a reason for them to sleep together in Erlin’s bed. Innocent, back to back, with space enough for Egwene between them. But still, close enough that Bev could maybe feel Erlin’s warmth through his t-shirt, that maybe they’d wake up curled into each other.

More impossible dreams.

The shared giddy laughter had finally faded away, leaving them quiet and warm in the afterglow. Bev sat and settled cross legged on the little trundle bed, the old metal frame creaking slightly under his weight.

“Pancakes tomorrow?” Erlin asked.

Bev couldn’t help his grin. “Yes, obviously. The superior breakfast food.”

“Don’t let your mom’s sticky buns hear you say that sacrilege, dude.”

“Sticky buns are an all day food, not an explicitly breakfast food, Erlin. Duh.”

Erlin snickered quietly into his hand, and Bev felt the warm glow in his chest he felt every time he made Erlin laugh like that. “Okay, okay, fair enough.” Erlin reached over and put his phone down on his bedside table. Beverly tried not to look at the sliver of pale stomach that peeked out from beneath his overlarge t shirt as he leaned over. “You all set for the night?” Erlin asked, glancing at the blanket folded carefully atop the pillow beside Bev on the trundle bed.

Bev nodded, swallowing the gut desire to say something about sleeping in Erlin’s bed instead. “All good, dude. See you in the morning.” Erlin smiled at him again, a tired, happy thing, and clicked the bedside lamp off again, plunging them into perfect darkness.

Bev shuffled as quietly as he could under the blanket, burying his face in his pillow. He could still hear the rain outside falling on the roof, how the trees groaned and whipped in the wind. He tried to focus on that, as opposed to Erlin’s slow, heavy breathing. He was only marginally successful.

Bev fell asleep quickly, Erlin’s snuffling breaths and the hard patter of rain turning into a lullabye, and his body was still heavy and tired from running home through the rain.

He woke up, hours later, to the thin trundle mattress shifting but a sudden new weight.

At first, Bev thought it was just Erlin trying to climb out of bed- probably to use the bathroom- and stepping onto Bev’s mattress as he did. But as the mattress continued to shift, Bev realized Erlin wasn’t using the mattress as a stepping stone to get to his bedroom floor. He was lying down beside Beverly.

Bev’s eyes snapped open as a line of anxious ice trailed down his spine, reaching out with all his senses to try and figure out what was going on. He couldn’t see much beyond vague shadowy shapes in the darkness of the bedroom- the line of streetlight peeking out from beneath the window’s blinds, the outline of Erlin’s desk against the pale wall behind it, the curl of Erlin’s hair as he buried his face in his pillow. Beverly blinked away sleep, straining to make out the line of Erlin’s body. The curve of his head into his neck and shoulders, disappearing below the blanket Bev was using, the line of his spine into his legs, his bare feet peeking out the edge of the blanket. His face was buried in his pillow, scrunched up between the pillow Beverly was using and the edge of Erlin’s bed frame, his whole body curled into the small space like a small animal looking for safety. Beverly couldn’t tell if he was awake, or whether Erlin had crawled into bed with Beverly in a fit of sleepwalking- sleepcrawling? Either way, that’s probably what had woken Beverly up, the abrupt weight of Erlin crawling into bed beside him, settling onto the thin mattress. Erlin’s shoulder was no more than an inch from the center of Beverly’s chest, where he had been asleep, curled onto his side. If either of them shifted even a little, they would be touching.

Then, a quiet snuffle. Erlin shook his head and buried his nose further into his pillow- Beverly didn’t know how he could breathe like that, but if he strained, he could still hear it. Erlin’s breathing sounded different than it had when they were first falling asleep; faster, almost wet sounding, like he was- was Erlin crying?

Bev’s breath caught in his chest, and slowly he lifted his hand and placed it gently on the back of Erlin’s shoulder. He heard the snuffling sound again, and then felt Erlin sigh beneath his hand. And then, as though Erlin had never woken up, Beverly heard his breathing slow and deepen, his spine going loose beneath Bev’s palm. He was asleep. In bed with Beverly. Part of him wanted to shake Erlin awake again, ask why he was crying and why he crawled in bed with him and what did this mean?

But Bev was still exhausted, and half asleep, and the initial adrenaline of waking up had faded, leaving him in a room silent save for Erlin’s breathing. It felt dreamlike, as though Bev would blink and wake up to the early-morning sunrise, Erlin asleep in his own bed again. Bev didn’t want to question it, didn’t crave answers enough to shatter the dream- real or otherwise- he’d found himself in. So he closed his eyes, let himself listen to Erlin’s even breathing, and fell back asleep.

When Beverly blinked awake again, it was morning, and the moment in the middle of the night felt like nothing more than a sugar-sweet dream. The sunlight tore through the crack at the bottom of Erlin’s blinds, washing his room in burning golden light. It took Bev’s eyes a moment to adjust, a yawn hiking up in his chest as he started to stretch out.

All at once, his arm bumped into something warm and firm and Bev’s eyes adjusted enough to catch a pair of pale feet peeking out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

Erlin.

Beverly’s eyes snapped towards Erlin’s bed and caught on his best friend, lying on his side facing Beverly, still tucked between Bev and his bed frame. Still lying next to Bev. The fuzzy memory from the middle of the night slotted back into place, and Bev was suddenly aware of his feet tucked against Erlin’s shins; that he’d shifted, searching for warmth in the middle of the night.

Erlin was awake, his eyes soft and open, watching Bev with the kind of tentative warmth that Beverly recognized from inside his own chest, everytime he looked at Erlin.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, his arm settling back against the mattress from where he’d frozen, mid-stretch.

“Good morning?”

“You’re… really here. I thought I dreamed you.” Beverly mumbled, his brain still foggy with sleep, struggling to put the pieces together.

Erlin flushed, and Bev let himself watch how it started at his ears and spread inwards, along the line of his cheeks and up to his nose until his whole face was red. “I woke you up?”

“Only a little,” Bev tried for a joke, and Erlin smiled slightly, acknowledging.

“I… um-”

“Nightmare?”

Erlin nodded. “My parents. And Egwene, this time, and Nana. And-” he hesitated, scanning Beverly’s face- “and you.” A confession that Bev could almost piece together.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, the word punched from his chest.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, I just- I wanted to know I wasn’t alone, but it felt silly to wake you-”

“Erlin. It’s fine. I- I didn’t mind.” That wasn’t fully true. “I liked it. I like waking up to you.” A confession in response, and Bev watched with bated breath as realization broke out over Erlin’s face.

“Oh.”

“Is that okay? I don’t- you’re my best friend, Erlin, and that means everything to me, and I don’t want to lose that. You. But- I just. I think about it. Sleeping beside you, and holding your hand when we go to the movies, and buying your ice cream for you, and all the little-”

“Boyfriend things?” Erlin whispered, his voice full of barely-veiled hope.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Erlin shifted forward on the mattress, just a little. “Kissing?”

Bev could barely find the breath to answer, terrified that one wrong move, one wrong word, and everything would come crumbling down around his ears. “Yeah.” Again, louder, more certain, “Yeah.” And then the important part, “What about-”

But before Beverly could finish his question, Erlin’s palm was on his cheek and he was leaning forward and then his lips were on Bev’s. They were warm and slightly dry and Bev could smell Erlin’s deodorant and shampoo and Erlin was kissing him. Bev combed his hand into Erlin’s curls- something he’d thought about doing more times than he wanted to admit- and pulled him closer, until their chests were touching and Bev felt electricity arc down his spine. Erlin’s hand was a warm, grounding presence on his face, and Erlin kept it there even when he eventually pulled away. His pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness wiped from his face, and his cheeks were burned fire engine red.

“Yeah,” Erlin echoed, breathless for a different reason now. “Me too.”

Bev pulled his hand out of Erlin’s hair and wrapped it around the hand Erlin was still holding against his face, twisting their fingers together. Erlin’s flicked between their hands and Bev’s eyes. “Let me take you to dinner,” Bev said, more a plea than a question.

“Like a-”

“A date. Erlin Kindleaf, I’ve been thinking about this for years, please let me take you on a date.”

“Yeah, dude, yeah, yes-” And then Erlin kissed him again.

It was even better the second time. Erlin tilted his head a little so their mouths slotted together and his hand was still cradling Bev’s cheek. Bev dragged his hand up Erlin’s chest, wrapping his fingers around the place where his shoulder turned into his spine turned into the nape of his neck. Bev had always wondered what the softly curling hairs there felt like. Now he got to find out, twisting his fingers gently through them and pulling Erlin ever closer. Their noses bumped as Erlin sat up, sitting on his knees and shuffling forward until they pressed into Bev’s side on the mattress. Erlin’s hand finally moved from his face to grab onto his shoulder, and gently ran his other hand along Bev’s side- hip to stomach to ribs. Bev broke away as Erlin dragged his fingers along a ticklish spot on his ribs, tucking his face into the soft space at the top of Erlin’s shoulder with a helpless giggle.

It felt like they were back in the pouring rain from the night before, when everything was washed in blue light and cool water, the hot asphalt steaming as the rain evaporated. Where everything was light and joyous and exhilarating. Bev could feel Erlin laughing breathlessly, the way his shoulders jumped under Bev’s forehead, how his head shook with tiny rolling laughs. His hair brushed against Bev’s face, soft and smelling like the same herbal shampoo he’d used the night before.

It was that, more than Erlin agreeing to go on a date or kissing him, that finally made Bev realize that this was real. That he could have the kind of life he’d always wanted with Erlin; hundreds of nights curled into each other as they slept, arguing over who could pay for who’s dinner, making out at the movies during the credits (because neither of them would want to miss the rest of the film).

The morning was golden as Bev sat up and started to pepper Erlin’s face with tiny kisses until they were both laughing too hard to breathe.

Hours or minutes later, Egwene knocked briefly before ducking her head through the door to Erlin’s room- giving them barely enough time to leap apart, sprawled on opposite sides of the tiny trundle bed, red-faced and still shaking with laughter. She raised a silent eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Nana’s making breakfast, fuckers.” Her eyes jumped between Beverly and her brother, her forced scowl failing to hide the smile in her eyes. “Quit giggling to each other, let’s go.” She ducked back out of Erlin’s room leaving the door cracked as she stomped down the hall. Bev turned and grinned at Erlin, knowing it was as good as a blessing they were ever going to get.

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah.” Erlin grabbed Bev’s hand, dragging them both finally to their feet. “But not too many, we have dinner plans tonight.”

Bev pressed another kiss, quick and full of promise, to Erlin’s mouth. “Okay.”

The morning was golden, Bev could already smell the pancakes cooking, and he finally saw the future he wanted spread out before him; hand in hand with Erlin.

[wallwriterstuff]

A Little Trouble || Alec Volturi x Reader||

A request for: @tiger-khans-blog

Words: 4225

Warnings: None!

Summary: Alec’s mate is...not what he expected. Between hair dye, brownie mix and kitchen fires they’ve started their very own reign of terror in Volterra, but Alec’s learned that sometimes a little trouble can be a good thing...

When Aro had first seen Sulpicia, she had been selling seaglass on the shore of Greece, the sunlight reflecting off of dark streaks of hair and dark eyes so enthralling he’d been ensnared ever since. He’d brought almost a whole bag of the pretty, frosted glass and spent hours crafting the pieces into a beautiful necklace Sulpicia had done everything in her power to preserve until the centuries just made it to fragile to keep wearing. She had been smitten the moment she met the man willing to craft her a courting gift that looked every inch as precious as the pearls the wealthier women in town wore.

When Caius had first met Athenodora, she had been fire and brimstone in the shape of a woman towering over those who would oppress her. He had been immediately enraptured by the feisty blonde tearing off the arm of a man who had clearly wronged her in some way, the dark crimson of her eyes drawing him in and not letting go. She had easily taken care of the two Romanian lapdogs tracking him to, and as he watched her pale face shine in the flames Caius had known in that moment there would never be another woman for him. They were both such romantic stories and Alec had been inducted into this life hearing them, seeing the way Chelsea and Afton had fallen head over heels almost instantly and Marcus had fallen into despair with Didyme’s death. He knew the importance of the mate bond, knew it was something to be treasured, that his mate should be protected and loved by him at all times no matter the cost.

Imagine his surprise when the first time he met you, you swore at him for being in your way.

Modern women were nothing like the women he had been surrounded by growing up, or even the women in the guard. The old-world ideals of the demure and chaste woman were something the world had outgrown and here you were now, causing trouble wherever you went, the consequences be damned. If it wasn’t your mouth getting you in trouble it was your actions. He still shuddered when he recalled the first time he had presented you to the Masters. He couldn’t just leave you where he’d found you after all; you were his mate and so many things happened to vulnerable humans – and that was without the added complication that you were the mate of a witch twin. You had fought hard despite your obvious disadvantage until Alec had stripped your senses and taken you from your home city.

Aro had insisted on reading your thoughts, intrigued as to who could be compatible with his most powerful Guard. His stare had been intense and his skin ice-cold and, well, these people had just kidnapped you after all so nobody should have really been surprised when you tried to shove him away from you.

“What the hell is wrong with you all! You think you can just kidnap me and do whatever you want with me? You can take your huge ass forehead and shove it man, stop trying to touch me, Dome of Creepiness!”

Caius’s indignation had him pushing to his feet so fast his hair had swung about his shoulders as he spoke down to you, while Marcus only watched with the faintest wisp of a smile on his face.

“Insolent human! You are beneath-“

“I ain’t beneath nobody King Blondie Sparkles! You look like you’re in a damn Loreal commercial or something and you? Don’t even start me on the gloomy dude! This is some kangaroo court stuff right here!” You’d cried out. Felix and Demetri had been very obviously amused by you but Alec had just about died all over again, the embarrassment and astonishment too much for him. The whole room had been stunned into silence until Jane dropped you for your insubordination. His embarrassment had dissolved to sheer horror in moments and for the first time in his life he’d actually snarled at his sister. You’d been a handful when he met you and you’d continued to be one ever since. He could vividly recall your first month with them, where’d you’d endlessly pranked and shouted at them in an effort to be so annoying they’d simply let you go.

Jane had been your first victim, since she had naturally been predisposed to disliking you given your association with her twin. Every little thing you did irked her so it was really no surprise that the simplest of things had been what set her off on your second week in the castle. Anywhere that the Masters and the Guard were not was a refuge for you, and it just so happened that more often than not, the gardens were your chosen spot. Jane had taken to tending a small corner of the garden decades before you’d ever arrived and it was coming to the time of year where she stripped out and replanted it, but that was her job, not yours. Finding you knee deep in mud, her soil strewn everywhere and the bulbs that flowered every year scattered along the path while you tried your best to bury Felix’s journal had set her on a warpath she’d been on for months after the incident. Alec had barely saved you from her and had only ended up covering himself in dirt in the process.

Demetri’s hair had been the first real casualty, in Alec’s opinion. He’d been out for the day looking for trouble of his own, spending his down time how he pleased, and as was his tradition he took a nice, long hot shower when he got home. He had had no idea you replaced his leave in conditioner with bleach and to say he was furious to find the natural colour of his hair gone and the strands drying and brittle was an understatement. He’d screamed so loud the Guard had come running thinking he was in danger, only to find him holding a handful of his own, unnaturally blonde hair in hand and wearing absolutely nothing to cover his modesty. He had worn a hood for three weeks before the venom managed to leach the bleach out and return his hair to its natural luster and volume. It took him three months to consider accepting your apology.

Then you’d set the kitchen on fire.

It had genuinely been an accident on this one occasion, and Felix had been keeping an eye on you so was able to prove it. You had really just been trying to cook yourself some lunch, your usual mischievous mood dampened by three months of captivity in the castle and absolutely no progress in earning your freedom. When the sleeve of your shirt had caught fire on the hob it was perfectly understandable you had panicked…it was just unfortunate that your panic had carried you straight into the tablecloth, oven mits and tea towels, setting small fires everywhere that didn’t mix all that well with the natural wooden countertops. Aro was furious he had had to call the fire brigade and have so many humans in their home. It had drawn more attention to the Castle than there had been in almost two centuries.

“Your irresponsibility could have cost lives far more valuable than your own. Do you understand how reckless you have been? This petulant sulking will no longer be tolerated and you will-“

“Whatever.” You had muttered. Aro’s mouth had snapped closed, Caius’s eyes bugging.

“I beg your pardon?” his voice was soft, unthreatening. Alec knew that meant trouble. You kept your head bowed, your fists clenched at your sides, and he caught the slightest twinge of salt in the air. The truth was, Alec had been keeping an eye on you from a distance, waiting to see if you calmed. You had been given an extended period to see if your wilder tendencies could be calmed before you were changed – no one wanted to deal with a wild newborn after all. Instead, he’d watch your flame flicker and dim, your cheeky spark dying slowly as the darkness of Volterra enveloped it. He hated it. You were supposed to be loud and mischievous, a hurricane in human form; he wondered how he had ever handled the quiet before you came into his life because he couldn’t stand it now it had returned. Your energy was just drained from you and Alec didn’t want this, not for you, not when you were clearly miserable.

“Master. It was an accident.” Felix’s voice had surprised him, but the giant had stepped forward calmly to give him his hand and show him everything that had led up to the dreadful accident. Aro was quiet for a moment, his expression changing drastically.

“Are you alright, my dear?” he asked finally. Your glare had been venomous when you looked up at him then but Alec had decided enough was enough. In many ways he still looked back on that as a defining moment in your relationship, because Alec had done exactly what mates were supposed to do in that moment and stepped in to protect you. His concern had put the Masters off of punishing you as he ushered you from the room and into his. He’d ran you a bath so you could clean the soot from your body, and whilst you languished in his tub he had sat leaning back against the closed door, asking you the first things that came to mind. By the end of the night, as you lay fast asleep on his sofa, he knew all of your favourite things and all your worst fears, but more importantly he knew how to talk to you. It was easier after that, to engage you in conversations that didn’t end in a screaming match, and it had taken him a little under a month to fall completely in love with everything you were.

What you were was a complete menace, of course.

Felix had become your partner in crime and your pranks continued to extend across the castle, your cheeky spark returning once Alec had professed how much he missed it. In the span of three weeks Caius’s hair had turned neon green, the Guard’s robes became tie-dyed with shapes cut out of them, Marcus had had his hair braided quite nicely but Aro’s hair had had multi-coloured streaks woven into it and he’d been forced to wear it that way for a trial…Alec had no idea how you and Felix managed any of this but it had become very clear that you weren’t going to change your ways, much to the Master’s chagrin.

“Why exactly are we doing this?” Demetri sounded exasperated and Alec shot him an annoyed look.

“Y/N has never been given flowers, but Heidi insisted that humans liked receiving flowers and I would like to make it clear that my intentions towards Y/N are romantic.” Alec repeated for the umpteenth time. Demetri sighed quietly and Alec diligently ignored whatever it was he muttered under his breath while they observed the flowers at the stall in the square. There were blooms of every colour, size and shape, with equally as pretty ribbons and papers to wrap them in. It was almost too much choice almost. He knew your favourite colour of course, but he’d never asked about your favourite flowers because you just hadn’t seemed like a flower’s kind of person.

“How about a mixture of these?” Demetri suggested, his fingertips ever so gently lifting the stems of flowers from the tubs of water keeping them fresh as he picked out his samples. Alec tilted his head, quietly watching him work for a moment until he had two large headed blooms and some smaller sprigs of blossoms.  

“The small ones look out of place with the bigger flowers.” He frowned. Demetri shook his head.

“Not when arranged in a full bouquet. Besides, the meaning is impressive. These are salvia and the red ones in particular mean forever mine. This yellow one is hibiscus, it symbolizes delicate beauty, and these purple ones are morning glory’s, representing affection. Placed in a whole bouquet you are promising your delicate beauty your affections forever.” He concluded. Alec stared at him in shock.

“You speak the language of flowers?” he questioned. Demetri’s eyes rolled as he handed his stems to the stall owner with a few quick instructions in Italian.

“My lovers do not line up at my door purely for the scintillating conversation, Alec.” His tone told Alec he needed to drop that particular conversation, and since the tracker was doing him a favour Alec let it slide this time. Wrapped in some pretty polka dot paper with a white satin bow wrapped around the stems, he held his bouquet with a small smile, please with how it turned out. He couldn’t wait to give it you, see your face when you realised someone had decided to do something nice for you. It was his first real romantic gesture towards you and he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.

“Do you think we should have gotten the card?” he fretted. Demetri raised an eyebrow.

“Why go to all of this effort Alec?” he fired back, brows furrowed, “They’ve done nothing but cause trouble since they arrived. How could you possibly find it in yourself to expend the effort to reach out to someone so….so…”

“Demetri. I dare you to finish that sentence,” Alec said coldly, his eyes focused on the tracker in a steely glare. Demetri didn’t cower at much, but the witch twins were enough to make even the strongest men fall to their knees in fright. “Just tell me where my mate is.” Demetri was quiet for a moment as he put his gift to full use, and then he twisted and began to walk away, leaving Alec to follow him silence. Alec understood why so many of them had turned away from his mate, you had hardly made life easy for any of them after all with all your mischief, but Alec saw the reason you behaved as you did where nobody else took the time to. Your most harmless pranks (like dropping a water balloon full of hair gel on Caius who was stuck trying to get his hair to go flat for four days straight) were done for fun, a product of your immaturity and youth, but the big ones were usually reactions to things. You had done your very best to piss them off simply because you were scared of the monumental change you were having to adjust to, not to hurt anyone. You didn’t have a malicious bone in your body, he was sure.

His nose twitched as Demetri led him in the directions of the kitchen, something bitterly sweet invading his senses. What was that? He couldn’t place the scent at all though he did pick up on the lingering smell of gas, indicating the oven was on. Was his mate cooking perhaps? But what was she cooking that was so bitter?

“Ah!” the short, sharp yell had Alec moving at lightning speed towards the kitchen door. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that bang was, what sort of trouble you were getting into now, but come hell or high water Alec was going to save you from whatever hair-brained scheme you –

“Ghost!” Demetri screamed, his pitch so high Alec cringed slightly. It was enough to make him panic, as his eyes raked over the figure before them, a mixture of denim and dark brown that was bordering on black, the white of its eyes screaming at him through the dark sludge. For the briefest moment, Demetri’s own panic had skewed Alec’s perception enough that he didn’t see anything for what it really was. No, no Alec saw the brown sludge as burnt flesh, thick and solidifying and sliding slowly off of the bones of the creature before him. He saw exactly what he should have become all those years ago. A tortured, melted creature. It was enough to make even the fierce witch twin scream, and the flowers Demetri had helped him pick so carefully went flying upward out of his hands so he could use them at a moments notice.

It wasn’t until Jane shook his arm that he snapped out of it somewhat.

“Alec what is wrong with you!”

“Jane! I saw – it’s a – a – what?” he stammered.

“It’s a ghost Jane, tell me you do not see it!” Demetri snapped. Jane groaned, her expression exasperated as her arms folded.

“It’s not a ghost you fools! It’s Y/N,” she huffed, turning her cold gaze to his mate next, “And they’ve made a complete mess.” You had the decency to look embarrassed at least. Alec took another look at the ‘ghost’, sighing slightly as he realised his sister was right. The brown sludge was not burnt flesh after all, more…more…some sort of chocolate mix perhaps? Your lower lip came out in a pout and you looked so unbearably sad Alec couldn’t help but come closer to you, tempted to hug you but also not wanting to get your mess on his clothes.

“Y/N? What on earth happened to you?” he questioned. You whined pitifully at him.

“Jane taught me to make brownies with this recipe she knows and so I tried to do them myself, but the oven is too high up and I lost my grip on the tray and now I have a sore head and no brownies.” You had never looked more upset than you did in that moment and Alec blinked in surprise because…since when did his sister spend time with you? Jane huffed quietly behind him as he sighed and gently wiped some chocolate from her chin before it could drip to the floor.

“Oh dear. How about you get yourself cleaned up and I will clean up in here?” he suggested. You lowered your head.

“I didn’t mean it this time Alec, I swear, I just wanted brownies. I didn’t mean to scare your or Demetri.” Your voice was so small, it shattered his heart. You may have been a troublemaker at heart but you were also a bit of a guilty soul, and he knew you felt genuinely bad when you truly upset someone. You’d been trying to subtly make it up to Demetri for months now but the tracker was having none of it.

“I know sweet thing. All is forgiven.” He promised. He watched you trudge from the kitchen, leaving a trail of brownie mix behind you. Demetri was nowhere to be seen though Jane remained standing near the doorway, staring apathetically at the mess on the floor.

“It isn’t your mess to clean.” She pointed out.

“Nor is it a mess she made deliberately. Chocolate will be much harder to get out clothes than a wooden floor; though, as the recipes creator surely you’d know?” the subtle invitation to tell him and the smirk on his face was enough to make Jane scowl at him.

“Maybe Y/N isn’t so bad…but she cannot bake.” She sniffed, turning on her heel to leave the mess to him. Alec chuckled slightly as she left, pleased in the knowledge his sister was clearly trying to get along with his mate now. She had sworn off of you beforehand, so this was an improvement. It didn’t take him long to run a bucket of hot water, scooping up the large globs of chocolate mix before mopping the floor. He’d definitely have to change his shirt today but he had done it in half the time it would have taken you to clean up, and by the time he wondered to your room to find you you hadn’t even left the shower yet. To his surprise, when he poked his head around the door, his nose caught the smell of fresh flowers, because sitting proudly on your desk was the bouquet he and Demetri had bought for you. His brow furrowed, he didn’t remember giving you those, in fact they’d completely skipped his mind.

He decided to read whilst you showered, determined to speak to you after you were done and confess his feelings for you, but he got so absorbed in the pages it wasn’t until his door creaked that he realised you were clean and dry once more. In fact, almost immediately after his door creaked the sound of your feet thudding against the floorboards hit his ears, and Alec’s hands quickly dropped the book in favour of catching you as you all but dived over the arm of the sofa with a grin to reach him. With his strength he easily held you about a foot up from his lap, slowly lowering you down with raised eyebrows.

“Still trying to fly?” he guessed. You nodded.

“You betcha! One day I’ll manage it, you’ll see. If I have to have a gift it’ll be the coolest one, I’ll be the worlds first flying vampire.” You boasted with a smirk that told Alec you knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, if ever, as you sat up on your knees beside him. It was yet another thing Alec loved about you, just how refreshing your perspective on life was. You never took anything too seriously whereas his life had been focused around first, surviving, and second, gaining the reputation that ensured nobody dared mess with him or his sister again. He had had little time for games and tricks and fun but you…you were young and free, living the life he had missed out on, a life he could live vicariously through you.

“You know one day you will fall face first.” He said with a chuckle. You shook your head.

“No I won’t, you’ll always be there to catch me.” You sounded so confident and Alec couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Oh, will I?” he teased. You nodded your head.

“Yeah you will, because red salvia means forever mine, right?” your eyes were a little guarded still, a light pink coating your cheeks. Alec’s brow furrowed, his back straightening.

“You know what the flowers mean?” he asked. Your blush darkened, head slowly nodding.

“Demetri speaks flower…actually, Google Maps said quite a few things, actually.” You admitted. Alec felt his stomach curl tight, the anxiety settling in his gut like a ball and making him feel as close to nauseous as a vampire could get. He turned his body to face you, studying your expression carefully. You didn’t seem like you were setting him up for any bad news at least, your expression wasn’t twisted, you just looked…shy. It was a new and rather bizarre look on you since his loud and cheeky little mouthed mate was never shy. Demetri hadn’t been too harsh then.

“Such as?” he prompted. You took a breath, fingers twisting in your lap.

“Such as he’s never heard me apologise and mean it before apparently – which is a lie but we moved past that – and…and you don’t want to give up on me, because you think I’m okay as I am.” You murmured, not quite able to meet his gaze now. Alec felt his stomach flutter, those proverbial butterflies kicking up a storm as he reached for your hand.

“I think you’re more than okay.” He said softly. Your hand twitched as his fingers brushed your own, but you didn’t pull away and instead let him intertwine your hands with a small smile.

“Even if I’m loud? And annoying? And immature? And-“ You were cut off by Alec’s finger against your lips, his eyes rolling.

“Demetri’s personal opinion of you is something I could care less about. I like the noise and the pranks and when you are unapologetically yourself, Y/N. Maybe you do get yourself into a lot of trouble from time to time but you’re having fun with your life, you are living as you wish, you live freely and that is something I envy.” He admitted. Your eyes widened slightly.

“You envy me? But…you’re so powerful!” you exclaimed. His eyes rolled.

“Power isn’t everything Y/N.I know your life changed in ways you didn’t expect, that you weren’t really happy with it either, and I can never really make up for just taking you away from your home like that but I would like to try.” Alec squeezed your hand lightly, his eyes pleading for that one little chance he knew he didn’t deserve but so desperately wanted. You bit your lip, clearly thinking through your options. You hadn’t really been made to feel welcome during your stay, but if one person had consistently treated you like another human being instead of an out of control child it was Alec. It helped he was pretty handsome to, and for whatever reason, he liked everything about you that put others off.

“How?” you asked finally, head tilting. Alec smiled slightly.

“Humans go on dates when they meet their mates, don’t they? Perhaps we can start with that. I’ll take you to this bakery not far from the square and get you all the brownies you desire.” He proposed. You couldn’t quite fight the smile breaking out on your face.

“Deal.”

Alec came to the startling conclusion that sometimes, a little trouble is a good thing.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 14: The Reckoning

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Word Count: 2,438

Chapter Summary: With Loki gone, Teki finds herself reaching a breaking point.

A/N:  I’m sorry.

This chapter includes depictions of violence.

Thanks for reading!

TW: Graphic violence, child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Somehow, Teki managed to return to her rooms, although she didn’t remember how—she was fairly certain the Queen had offered to escort her back, but she wasn’t sure if she actually had or not. Perhaps she was in shock, or perhaps her mother’s training to keep a mannerly expression was rooted deeper than she realized, but some way or another Teki made it back to her bedroom before she completely fell apart.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. She sobbed into the front of her dress, the words circling her head in an endless chant. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

He was the only person she had, the only person she could talk to, the only person who would listen. He was the only place were she could smile, where she could stretch out and actually breathe instead of suffocating all alone laced into a crimson dress. He was the only person in her life that didn’t have to care about her and somehow the only person who did.

And they had taken him away.

It was clear that her mother and Osvald had known about it. The dressmaker debacle made sense now—it was all planned, to keep her and Loki from protesting until it was too late. That night, Teki face down on her bed, hiccupping into her pillow, listening them whispering outside her door.

“It’s a good thing,” her mother was saying. “Even with her throwing a fit about it. I’m glad the King agreed. He was just mucking everything up.”

Teki turned her head to the wall, staring but not seeing. Empty vials of poison danced across her vision.

Was Daddy mucking everything up too, Mama?

She was still sniffling that night when her door creaked open just a crack.

“Teki?” Brant’s voice was hushed, uncertain. “Can I sleep with you?”

She quickly wiped her cheeks, humming in quiet affirmation as she grasped for her responsible voice. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Ever since he had learned to walk, Brant had been sneaking into her room at night, fleeing his bed and the snarling creatures he was certain lurked in the darkness. He had only stopped this a few months ago, after Osvald found them curled up together one morning and spent breakfast ranting on about how Teki was turning his son into a recreant.

But tonight, Brant shook his head as he crawled under her covers.

She frowned. “Then what’s wrong?”

He stared up at her with wide eyes that glistened in the faint moonlight coming in from the window.

“You’re sad,” he said.

Oh, Brant. Teki pulled him close, and he hugged her back. She rested her cheek against his sandy hair. It was nice to have somebody to hold on to.

“Yes, I’m sad right now,” she murmured. “But it’s going to be okay. I promise. I’ll be fine.”

“I have to take care of you,” he whispered solemnly. “Prince Loki told me I’m s’posed to.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Prince Loki?” she asked. “When did he tell you that?”

“He came while you and Mama were gone. He said they were sending him away and he had to talk to you. He said he’d be learning more magic things, so when he came back he’d be able to give me wings.”

Teki bit her lip. She wondered what he would’ve said, had he managed to get to her before they sent him off. She thought of the day of the Games, hidden away in the healer’s tent.

I don’t want you to marry my brother.

Next to her, Brant inhaled.“Teki?” he asked slowly, as if he were afraid to put the thought to words.“Do you think you could maybe marry Prince Loki instead?”

There was a lump in her throat as she pushed his bangs out of his face. “No,” she sighed. “It has to be Thor.” Saying out loud only made the cords around her heart pull tighter.

“I like Loki better,” he whispered, barely a breath.

Teki stared into the nighttime shadows. “So do I.”

Suddenly, Brant grinned through the darkness. "We could run away!” he hissed excitedly. “Prince Loki says there's secret tunnels all over Yggdrasil. We could go through one and meet Loki in Vanaheim!"

"Brant." She hadn't heard that one before, but it sounded like something the prince would tell her brother. Teki felt very tired. "That's just a story. They're aren't any secret tunnels."

"Yes there are! He told me where— I put them on my map!" He sat up, readying to crawl off the bed. "I'll show you!"

Teki pulled him back. She wished she had his steadfast belief in everything-- in magic wings and secret tunnels and happily ever after. As it was, all she could do was hold him closer. "It wouldn't work," she said. "They'd follow us and take us back. It wouldn't work."

For a moment, Brant seemed completely deflated, but then he perked up once again. “If I change my wish, do you think he could make it happen?” he asked excitedly. “Instead of the wings?”

Something about his face, the way hope seemed to radiate from his smile, crushed her even more.

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing’s going to change.”

…

The next week was less of a continuous period of time and more like a string of actions that looped over and over again. She dressed. She played piano for Frigga. She picked halfheartedly at her food. She waited for Thor to ask her to dance, then waited for him to move on once he had. She fell asleep to the empty throbbing of her heart.

Rinse and repeat.

Sometimes at night, she’d  pull Loki’s dagger from its sheath and stared at her reflection in the polished blade, running her hands over the golden snakes on the hilt and wondering what he was doing. He had said he had always wanted to study in Vanaheim. She wondered if he was enjoying it. She hoped he was. Somehow, the thought that he was just as miserable worlds away from her as she was here made Teki feel even worse.

Her mother tolerated her gloom for a bit, but by the end of the week it was clear she was ready to move on.

“I had an idea!” she announced one day after barging into her room without warning. Teki had barely any time to shove the dagger into her nightstand drawer, but luckily her mother didn’t seem to notice her scrambling. “You know those little white cakes you love, that they make for the Winter Festival? I was thinking that perhaps we could convince the chefs to make an early batch. We’re nearing fall after all, and I can’t imagine that they’d refuse a request from the Crown Prince’s bethrothed!”

Teki mumbled a nondescript reply. Speaking to her mother—even looking at her—had suddenly become one of the most difficult tasks throughout the day. She avoided it when she could.

“Or, perhaps the three of us could take a day trip to the countryside! Remember that little cove we visited when Brant was a baby?”

When Teki didn’t even bother to answer this time, her mother huffed indignantly. “Tekla, I am trying here. You can’t just sit and mope in your bedroom forever.”

“Why did you marry Osvald?” Teki asked suddenly. It had been a question that had clung to her like a shadow for the last few days, Loki’s words rattling in her head. Your mother had a plethora of other options. Why Osvald? Of all people?

For a moment, her mother was stunned into silence. She laughed nervously. “Well, your stepfather and I met, and we got along very well, and we felt that we liked each other very much—”

“I don’t believe you.” The Teki of last month—the Teki of last week—would have fainted at the thought of such bitter words, but now she didn’t even flinch.

Her face darkened into a deep scowl. “What do you mean you don’t believe me?”

She should’ve stopped there, but the simmering resentment that had been bubbling within her for so long had just found a vent.

“Why did you really marry him?” she snapped. “What did he do to get you to marry him?”

“Stop!” her mother snapped. “I’ve had enough of this from you! You’ve had your time to sulk, now we have appearences to maintain.” She stormed from the room, only pausing briefly in the doorway to spit one threat. “If you won’t listen to me, then perhaps you should have a talk with your stepfather.”

The door slammed as she left. Teki sat in silence as the vibrations echoed in her eardrums. She had the sudden urge to scream—just to scream, at the top of her lungs until the windows shattered and the very foundations of the palace shook—but she swallowed it.

…

It came to a head the next day. She had just taken Brant for a walk in the gardens—his idea, as he insisted that looking at flowers always made people feel better. It had been sweet sentiment, and Teki tried her best to smile for him as they strolled past the lake, hoping that her brother didn’t realize that the sparkling water only reminded her more of Loki.

When they returned to their apartment, Osvald was waiting just inside. His cold glare immediately screamed trouble, but it wasn’t until she realized what it was that he was holding that Teki’s chest turned to ice.

“I found your little hiding spot.” His voice was low and dangerous as he tapped her father’s journal against his other hand.

Teki didn’t say anything. She watched the journal swing up and down against his palm, hypnotized by the soft beat of worn leather against skin. Besides her, Brant whimpered, gripping her hand more tightly. She didn’t move. Something kept her frozen in place, but it wasn’t the usual chill of fear. No, a single thought broke through the fog in her mind as she watched her only physical memory of her father dance in Osvald’s hands.

How dare you.

“You stole from us,” he continued. “You went through your mother’s things and you stole from us.”

“I didn’t steal anything.” She felt Brant stiffen at her words. You didn’t talk back to Osvald. They both knew this. They both knew what would happen if you did. But the fire blazing within burned through her caution.

Osvald was seemed taken aback by her bitterness, but he recovered quickly. “No?” He stalked closer to her, waving the journal in her face. “You’re lying to me now? Is this what I’ve raised? A filthy, lying little thief?”

“I didn’t steal anything,” she repeated. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her to drop her gaze, but she held her glare into his glittering eyes. How dare you. “That book is my father’s. It belongs to me.”

His scowl deepened. “I am your father. And I will not tolerate this behavior—”

“You’ll never be my father.”

She cried out when his fist crashed into her abdomen, doubling over as pain exploded across her ribcage and air rushed from her mouth. Her stepfather grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her backwards, slamming into the door. Colors splashed across her vision as her head smacked against the wood. Before she could completely lose her balance, Osvald yanked her up by the front of her dress.

“You think you’re tough, don’t you?” he hissed, throwing her back to the floor. Somewhere in the background, Brant was sobbing. “Brave little bitch.” His boot collided with her chest. Teki’s pained scream almost drowned out the sickening crack from her ribs. His foot came down again.

Her chest was on fire.  

Teki coughed as she struggled to shield her abdomen, the taste of blood metallic and heavy on the back of her throat. He kicked her again, crashing against her lower back. When she gasped for her next breath, it felt like burning coals rushing down her airways.

“You never seem to learn, do you?” he snapped. She braced herself for the next blow, but instead her stepfather cursed.

Painfully, she craned her neck just enough to see her little brother pulling at Osvald’s arm.  “Stop it!” he cried, tears running down his cheeks. “Get away from her!”

No—

Teki fought to get up but her limbs weren’t working properly, everything was throbbing, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe—

Brant shrieked in pain, a horrible screech that cut Teki to her very core. The room shook as a body hit the floor, Osvald growling words that she couldn’t hear over the pounding of her heart.

Get away him from Brant—get him away from Brant—

Her brother lay lifeless on the ground, Osvald towering over him like some malevolent spirit about to feast. Teki wasn’t sure how she made it to her feet, but once she did, she flung herself at her stepfather with the last shreds of strength she could muster.

He must not have been expecting her to move, because when she collided with him her meager effort was enough to send both of them tumbling to the ground. Her body howled as they hit the hard wood. She had barely enough time to gulp for air before Osvald had her pinned to the floor.

“Is that the game you want to play, you fucking cunt?” he snarled, his hand a vice around her neck. Teki thrashed against his grasp, but he only pounded her head against the floorboards. “Is this what you fucking wanted?”

She couldn’t breathe. Teki clawed at his hand in a panic as she battled for air, scanty gasps that were rewarded with a tighter grip.

She couldn’t breathe!

“Please!” she choked as his wild eyes bored into her. Her vision was going white around the edges. “Please!”

Osvald didn’t budge.

He’s going to kill me.

Tears flooded the corners of her eyes, running down the sides of her head.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead—

Please! she screamed in her head, for her voice no longer worked. Please! Mama! Norns! Somebody!

But it was only Osvald, panting down at her with eyes as black as Hel—

I don’t want to die!

Only Osvald, sneering mouth twisted in laughter because he knew no one else was coming—

… please …

But there was nothing. Even her stepfather dissolved into a million bits of sparkling glitter as Teki faded away into the white abyss.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Robron week - Day 6

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you, Dad.”

It had all happened so quickly. One minute they were welcoming Seb home from university and the next he and Robert were in the back of an ambulance and he felt like his whole world was falling apart.

Seb hadn’t even waited until they were sitting down to the welcome home lunch they’d worked on all morning before he’d dropped his bombshell. He was dropping out and taking himself off travelling. Aaron had wanted to sit and discuss it quietly having convinced Sara to go and visit her Grandma for a while, but Robert was having none of it.

The little boy that had clung to his Daddy on his first day of school refusing to let him go had changed into what his Mum would've said was a typical teenager, even at the age of twenty one, and he and Robert had been butting heads for years with Aaron stuck in the middle.

Predictably the pair of them had got into a massive fight, standing toe to toe in the living room, shouting over each other and getting nowhere until Robert had gone quiet as soon as the words left Seb’s mouth. Before Aaron could say anything he was having trouble catching his breath and complaining of pain. Now they were in a hospital room.

“Is Seb here?” Robert asks him, still sounding pretty stunned, but a lot better than he had a couple of hours ago.

“He’s in the waiting room with Sara. I'm going to call Ana in a bit.”

"There's no need, I'm fine."

“They’re our children and you just had a heart attack.” Robert huffs out a breath and groans.

“A mild heart attack.”

“A heart attack is a heart attack in my book. You heard what the doctor said, you’ve been stressing yourselves out for weeks and blowing your top at Seb certainly didn’t help.”

“He’s dropping out!”

“So what? Would you rather he was miserable? Whatever happened to them following their heart like you used to tell them?"

“Being a doctor is all he’s talked about for years.”

“Well maybe he’s realised it's not for him…I don’t know but you’re not going to find out by going toe to toe with him over it. If the two of you ever just talked to each other rather than everything turning into a slanging match then maybe you’d know that.”

“So it’s my fault?” Aaron's not looking but he can practically hear the pout.

“That’s another thing you could try and get better at, actually listening to what people are saying.”

“Very funny. Will you go and talk to him.”

“I’d rather stay with you.”

“I’m fine. Aaron…you heard what he said.” Aaron knew. As soon as the words left Seb’s lips he knew what Robert would be thinking. “Please. I can’t have him thinking he…make him understand.”

“Ok, ok. Just calm down or I’m going nowhere. I mean it, I can’t be worrying about you and talking to Seb, Robert.”

“Send Sara in then. You know she won’t let me get away with anything.” Aaron snorts, their younger daughter had acquired a bossy streak from somewhere which most of the time was a complete pain, but right now it could be just the thing he needed to keep Robert under control. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Good. I don’t want you going anywhere just yet, you hear me?”

“Mild, Aaron. A mild heart attack.”

“Still a heart attack.” He fires back, hand on the door handle. "Behave."

He takes a few moments to himself before going to find Seb, he can't remember the last time he was as scared as he'd been ringing the ambulance, seeing Robert look so pale.

He finds Seb in the waiting room, head in hands, Sara next to him flicking through a magazine but Aaron's sure she's not seeing any of it, unless she'd acquired a sudden interest in gardening techniques since she'd arrived.

"Sara, would you go and sit with your Dad sweetheart, while I have a chat with your brother. He's ok, but make sure he's not knotting his sheets together to escape or 'owt will ya." He squeezes her shoulder as she passes and looks back at his son. "Seb. Sebastian, let's take a walk."

"He's really ok?" Seb asks him when they step out into the sunshine. Aaron leads him to the hospital garden, that he'd found years back when Ana was born and he was here all alone, needing a break.

"He'll be fine mate. As long as he takes things easy."

"I'm sorry Dad. I didn't mean to make him ill." He sounds like the little boy who used to come into their room complaining of nightmares, not the confident young man he'd grown into.

"Hey, you didn't. Your Dad's been stressing for weeks about stuff and besides he got himself all worked up, that's all."

"ls...is he really mad?"

"No, not in the slightest."

"But..."

"He's not mad. He's worried that you think you're a disappointment to him."

"I...I'm not?" Aaron hates how small his voice is, like all his confidence has just melted away. He's always known he's a mini Robert, but sometimes it's still hits him and this is one of those times because this is Robert all over.

"Not one bit. If you want to go off and travel for years then do it, but can I suggest that if you tell your parents something that momentous you maybe prepare the ground a little and perhaps don't be quite so defensive when we ask you if you're sure."

"But it means I'm giving up everything you wanted. for me. A good job and that."

"Seb, me and your Dad wouldn't care if you were collecting trollies at Tesco. The only thing we care about is that you're happy, and now I think about it, you haven't been have you?" It hadn't really occurred to him until now but in their weekly chats Seb's sounded different, less like himself. He'd put it down to studying hard but now he knew better.

"I hate it, and I'm really not very good at it."

"Oh mate, you should've told us."

"Didn't want to disappoint you."

"Not possible. Dad and I would never want you to be miserable just to please us. Especially him, that's the very last thing he'd want. What made you think he would?"

"He's just... he was on my back so much when I was at school, making sure I had good grades, and always asking me how it was going and that. S'pose I thought I had to be the best."

"That's his way of showing an interest. He'd started watching medical documentaries on telly so that he could try and understand the stuff you talk about, which didn't really go well judging by the shade of green he'd turn."

"Dad!" He's pleased to finally get a laugh out of him.

"What? It's true! Listen Seb, your Dad just wants you to do what you want, what makes you happy. I know he gets a bit...well Dad but thats only because...If I tell you something I don't want you to tell your sisters ok?"

"Why?"

"That word is no less annoying now than it was when you were four and wanted to know what was holding up the sky,"

"Stop it!"

"Your Grandad Jack..."

"What about him?" They only knew him as Grandad, a good man and Aaron didn't want to ruin it, after all he'd been the only Grandad they'd known, even if it was only in a photograph, after he'd fallen out with his Mum and Paddy. He can remember Robert insisting they knew who he was even though Aaron and Sarah would've preferred the man be consigned to history.

"He and your Dad they didn't always get on. When he was little, your Dad wanted to do something with computers. he didn't want to work on the farm, like your Grandad expected...and well, instead of supporting him like you should he just got angry." He's not telling him everything. there was no need and Robert was adamant they would never know. "That and some other stuff that I'm not going into left your Dad feeling like he wasn't good enough, that he was a disappointment and he spent years trying to make up for it." Aaron sees the moment the lightbulb comes on.

"Oh."

"That's why what you said, and I know you didn't mean it, but yeah it hurt him. Your Dad he's so protective of the three of you and he's never wanted you to know this stuff but I think you're old enough now to know that not everyone is as perfect as they seem."

"So why can't I tell Ana and Sara?"

"Because it's not your place. It's up to your Dad. I only told you because he was so worried you were feeling like he did as a teenager. Besides, you're not grown ups to us, you're still our babies."

"Ugh, you're so annoying!"

"Yup. Come on, let's go and see your Dad. I expect he's driving your sister mad by now."

"I can't believe you thought she'd keep him calm. She's so bossy."

"Yeah yeah. Do I have to remind you who said she wasn't allowed your toys when she wasn't even a day old?"

"That's just common sense Dad. Ana had already destroyed everything I owned."

"Just a bit of an exaggeration. I found your giraffe the other day you know. I was clearing out the attic and there he was."

"I thought I'd lost him. You didn't throw him out did you?"

"I wouldn't dare. Your Dad would kill me for a start. You know he bought that for you. It was your favourite for years. You were a right menace if we forgot it any time."

"Still a menace though aren't I?"

"You're a Sugden-Dingle mate, that was a given." He opens the door to let Seb through. "Seb, maybe we don't say it enough but we're very proud of you, both of us."

"Alright, don't start gettin' mushy on me."

When they get to Robert's room he's sitting in the chair by his bed and Aaron looks at Sara who holds up her hands. "Don't look at me. The nurse said it was ok as long as he didn't get wound up."

"Well you were the wrong one to sit with him then squirt." Seb jokes, pushing her shoulder, yelping when she punches back.

"Exactly how old are you two? Sara, go ring your sister and tell her your Dad's ok and not to rush over."

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm the Dad." He sighs as Robert glares at him, telling him to leave them to it. "Fine, come on, I'll do it."

He takes one last look at them, Robert looking more like his old self, and Seb standing to one side looking anywhere but at his father. He hears Robert tell him to come closer and Seb's in his arms before he can finish. Robert catches his eye and nods.

They'd be fine.

[eveenstar]

Happy Together (Pre-Entity!Ghostface x reader)

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, slight manipulation, and kidnapping. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is considered a female.

Note: So I’m currently watching Scream (the tv series) and I’m in love with it. Expect to see more fics about our dear Danny Johnson/Jed Olsen since I’m very inspired to write about him.

Summary: Your friend invited you and Danny to their party. Even though Danny insisted for you to stay home on a horror movie marathon, you decided to go anyway. But things take a turn for the worst.

Word Count: 1,245 words

(gif not mine!)

He has always been there for you. 

You met Danny in a coffee shop, and soon after you both became close friends. Three years later and you now call him your bestie. Danny is your support, your confidant, and you tell him about almost everything in your life. But somehow, you keep lying to yourself; You have a tiny small little crush on Johnson. You couldn’t help but notice how charming, impossibly hot, and gentle he was! Maybe it’s from the alcohol on your system. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship so you kept quiet; what if he didn’t like you that way? Danny could just see you as a little sister.

But Johnson, on the other end, was beyond impatience and pissed. He spent four whole years waiting for you, waiting for the right time when you would finally fall from him but you didn’t. He had to hear you whine and cry about those useless men you’d tried to date but failed miserably (like c’mon, he’s right there. He deserves you above anyone else. Are you that blind?) for a few reasons; One night stands, ghosting you, not returning feelings or…disappearing mysteriously. After you invited him to your (F/N) party, he knew the time had come to finally take you.

So here you are. Your world was spinning, and your body wanted to throw out this morning’s breakfast. Your drink had a different taste; a bad one, and you should have noticed that before drinking it. Everyone was having fun, some of them had already passed out, others were having…a different kind of fun. You could see people shining, others had wings and you saw butterflies flying around and talking to each other.

Great, (Y/N). You were drugged.

You had to find Danny, he could take you home. But he wasn’t answering any of your texts…wait, is that even your phone? This night couldn’t get any worse. His blue car wasn’t outside neither.

Looking around the room while supporting yourself on the wall, you tried to focus and find (F/N)’s sister. Maybe you could convince her to take you to the hospital. Your mind was so dizzy and clouded, barely able to focus on anything. The loud music was ringing on your ears while you made your way down the hall, to the backdoor what led to the garden. Walking and pushing the drunk young people out of your way was harder than studying for an exam.

Why would anyone drug you? Did you have the wrong drink? And where the fuck was Danny? Damn it, you knew you should have stayed home instead of going to a party in the middle of the week. Outside was fresh, the soft breeze of the night made you feel less suffocated. It was so dark, and suddenly, you found yourself alone at the sound of the crickets. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, or light. Is this another hallucination? Now you were definitely missing the talking butterflies. This was creepier, scarier.

“(Y/N).” A whisper startled you, and you turned around to look behind, but nobody at sight. You looked around once more, and that’s when your eyes saw a male figure walking towards the woods outside the garden’s fences. Was that…?

“Danny…? Danny!” Your feet were already moving towards your best friend. He didn’t seem to hear you though, as he kept walking and disappeared behind a three with you following just behind.

(…)

Now, where are you? You lost yourself in the woods. How? You tried to remember, but your mind was not collaborating with you. So many blank spots within your memory, and you didn’t even record leaving (F/N)’s house. You didn’t have your phone with you, which made the situation even worse.

Crack

You immediately looked around at the sound of something breaking and saw a dark figure watching you not far from your current stop. The figure, wearing a black shroud and a Ghostface mask was staring at you while holding your…almost destroyed phone on his hands. You gasped out of shock and tremendous fear, before taking off running with the alleged killer chasing behind. You remember seeing the reports of the murderer, called Ghostface, murdering people. Apparently, he would choose random victims but the stab wounds seemed to be personal.

If you had stayed at home on a horror movie marathon as Danny offered, this wouldn’t be happening! You cried for help, trying to find your way back to the house until you realized the killer wasn’t chasing you anymore. You stopped to catch your breath, running a hand through your har while looking around in fear.

You took a few steps back, and you felt your back hitting something. You looked around and were face to face with your chaser. Letting out a scream, Ghostface merely tilted his head, like if he was mocking you.

“Hey, babe.”

That voice…

It can’t be…

“Danny….?” You placed your hands on your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. Your heart wished this was all a hallucination from the drugs, but your mind already knew the truth. All the signs were there, the times he got a bit mad about you going out with other men, or the strange coincidences of meeting him almost everywhere you went, or your…your dates going missing. How could you be so blind? So naïve?

You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you let a few sobs escape your lips.

“No, no, don’t cry.” He took his mask off, and you saw the insanity behind his dark eyes. Before he could grab you, you took off running in the opposite direction. You had to escape. You had to escape and call the cops on this man who you thought was different, who you loved and cared about.

You ran, ran, and ran until your legs couldn’t carry you further. You fell on your knees, sobbing and crying on the forest’s grounds. You were so tired, you just wanted to close your eyes and sleep; dreaming of waking up and realize this was all a bad dream.

Suddenly, two hands grabbed you softly and you screamed, backing off frightened. But you saw (F/N) looking at you with a worried look.  

“(Y/N), I looked for you everywhere! I was so worried you might have gone hurt or lost.” They said, helping you getting up and cleaning the dirt off your clothes before looking around. “How did you get this far? We should get you home.”

“(F/N), Ghostface is here! It’s Danny! Oh my god, it’s Danny…” You cried on their arms and noticed their expression turning to alarmism, quickly looking around.

“We need to go, now!” You both ran to the street, getting inside their blue car as fast as you could. You were a terrible mess; dirty, crying and desperate but also getting kinda sleepy. You didn’t wonder how (F/N) knew where you were exactly, or why they weren’t calling the cops yet, or why…their car was blue instead of white.

“(F/N)….?” You sleepily looked to the driver’s seat and saw Danny looking back at you with a smirk on his pale face. You wanted to scream, but your body was no longer listening to you.

“Don’t worry, babe, just sleep. It’s a long drive.”

You tried to move, to get away from the car now in movement, on an empty road. Your eyes were slowly closing, black spots blocking your vision.

“We’ll be happy together.”

[blue-bird-kny]

Hi Amanda, how are you doing? thanks for writing my request with Obanai, it was lovely and made me super soft. I liked the way he is affectionate in his unique way. I came because i dreamt something and I think you could write something with it! So, could i request Rengoku and Sanemi meeting their s/o on a garden they had never seen before, one of those that have ponds with koi and they keep finding excuses to come back and spend time with s/o? Thank you a lot, and take care!

Thank you for requesting again! This sounds like such a soft dream I hope you slept well that night. Also, I chose to write for just Sanemi so I hope that is okay:) Enjoy~Amanda (Creds to Artist)

Warning: Cussing

“In the Flowers”

(1.5K words)

It was the same everyday; Sunrise to sunset you tended to the garden of Oyakata-sama’s Estate. It was strange, you never knew such jobs like groundskeeper could be held by demon slayers, but Oyakata-sama offered you the position after he found you one night crying. You’d been miserable fighting demons, it was a miracle you’d even passed Final Selection. The life of a demon slayer just wasn’t for you, the harsh demands and long nights were beginning to take a toll on your health. He allowed you to continue working for the corps, just on a smaller scale, a job you were very good at. What could you say, you just got along with plants. Usually you’d spend the day alone, the occasional visit from Oyakata-sama himself or other members of the corp, but that all changed after he arrived.

He came across your garden accidentally. He says he was just ‘wandering around’ but really the real reason was because he’d lost his way through the winding corridors of the estate. As you tended to the roses, skillfully avoiding the sharp ends of their thorns, you hadn’t noticed his sharp eyes watching your every movement. Amongst the various blooming flowers that grew in the garden, Sanemi knew at first glance that you were the most captivating one of them all.

Your beauty was overwhelming, it blinded his senses and suddenly Sanemi could’t remember where he was going, but he knew that it didn’t matter because you were here. For reasons Sanemi couldn’t understand, he wanted, no needed to know who you were. His smirk was brimming with confidence as he made his way over to where you stood, so lost in your world of thorns and petals you hadn’t a clue anyone was there.

Sanemi was never one to be insecure, but with every step that brought him closer made his confidence drop little by little, his thoughts causing him to falter. It was too late though because when you spun around expecting hydrangeas, you found the scarred face of the wind hashira far too close to yours. “What are you doing?!” you yelled in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks.

You tried to move as far away as possible from the man, but of course you managed to trip over the rose bushes you’d previously been tending to. “Shit I’m going to fall!” you panicked, your eyes closed as you scrunch your face together. Instead of the cool, rough touch of the stone clad ground, your flailing body was caught by a pair of strong arms. Briefly a pair of concerned eyes stared into yours, but just as quickly they returned to their natural harsh gaze. A single breath was shared between your two forms, that's all it took for Sanemi to awkwardly place you on your feet. “Don’t be a dumbass!” he warned.

Your eyes traveled between his wide eyes to the hands that tightly held onto your arms. “Please remove your hands” your voice was timid, you’d already screwed up so much you didn’t want to further upset him. Quickly, as if your skin was suddenly scorching hot, Sanemi ripped his hands from your body. “You idiot!” he turned to leave as he felt the unfamiliar warm coat that began to spread through his face. He’d be damned if he allowed anyone, much less you, see him blush.

You stood wordlessly as you watched his retreating form, “What just happened?”

Days passed quietly after your little ‘incident’ with the hashira. Things went back to normal; you spent the days alone in your garden, just you and your plant pals. Usually the prospect of being surrounded by your plants was delightful, but something was bothering you. Gnawing at the back of your mind, consuming your thoughts “Why had he been here anyways?”.

It was a question you were dying to have answered, he must have needed something. Almost like he was summoned from your thoughts, Sanemi cleared his throat to grab your attention, this time a safe distance away. You both stared at each other, neither really knowing what to say. Sanemi opened his mouth first, “You never said thank you”. That was the best he could come up with, he didn’t quite understand why he’d come back but his feet unconsciously brought him back to your garden.

“Thank you?”

“Your welcome.”

You were dumbfounded, this man really came all the way over here because you didn’t say thank you? Like you owed him one? As frail and innocent as you appear, you’ve always been one to put up a good fight. “You came all the way over here so that I could say thank you? You asshole , don’t you have anything else to do with your time? I thought you Hashira were important and busy, I’m sure there is someone who needs you so go find them instead of harassing me, I’m working” anyone could tell you were pissed. “Shit now she's upset, fix this” Sanemi internally panicked, he wasn’t exactly a ‘people person’ nor was he prepared to handle a crush.

You returned to your plants, aggressively sniping at the weeds. The hot blood coursing through your veins pumped loudly in your ears, Sanemi had never expected that you’d be a hot-tempered person but it only made him fall further for you. You jumped in surprise at the pressure of his rough hand on your shoulder, peering up to find a much softer expression over his face. “Would you listen for a damn second” he lowered himself next to your crouched form. “I didn’t come back for your thanks alright, I came back because…..” his words trailed off, you watched as he racked  his brain for the right words. It was strange how you could find this person, who just made you so upset, so endearing in this vulnerable state.

“I wanted to watch you garden”

You didn’t know what made this rigid man to visit you twice now, but you never expected it was for gardening tips. Curiosity drove your responses as you turned your attention away from the man before you, “Fine” you continued removing weeds, “but stay out of my way, I can’t guarantee I won’t accidentally cut off you finger”

Sanemi smiled; he didn’t know where this was going to go or what was to come of your gardening sessions together, but for now he was content with just watching you.

With each day you and Sanemi spent time together, the closer you both grew. Like a flower needs the sun, Sanemi craved your light. Even he didn’t understand this feeling, he didn’t want it to go away. “Tomorrow” Sanemi promised himself as he watched you concentrate, tongue slightly peeking out between parted lips, “Tomorrow I’ll make her mine”

The next day, Sanemi was nowhere to be found. A frown had taken permanent residence on your face as the hours passed. He was a Hashira and did have responsibilities after all, but you felt that maybe he would have told you instead of just disappearing. “Stop it (y/n), your over reacting”  

You were so stuck inside your own head, you failed to notice the presence of the one person you’ve waited to see all day. Standing there, with a bouquet of Snow Lily’s gripped tightly in his palms, was a nervous Sanemi. He hesitantly walked over to your pouting form.

“Is she upset because I wasn’t here?” his confidence inflated, his usual smirk overcoming his face one again. The idea that you wanted him around made his ego explode. “Don’t look so glum, you're too beautiful for that” he commented, catching your attention. As if someone flipped a switch deep inside you, your lips broke into a wide grin.

He noticed your curious eyes watching the flowers he held, “They’re for you. I remember you said once these were your favorite but they were hard to find so you didn’t grow them.” he pushed them into your hands. “So I found them for you, that’s why I didn’t tell you about today” he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. You stared at the lilies in your hands, their delicate petals a brilliant white adorned with accents of a deep pink. Your eyes welled with tears “he did this for me?”

“Hey what’s with the water...ugh!” he grunted in surprise as you flung yourself in his direction, his arms instinctively catching your form. “Thank you” you voice was quiet, “nobody has ever done something so thoughtful for me. I’ll never be able to repay you for this” your words caused Sanemi to smile, easing into the impromptu hug.

“You don’t have to repay me, it’s a gift”

You stared into his soft eyes, so filled with sincerity it was hard to hide the love you felt for Sanemi any longer. In the quiet space you two shared, surrounded by nothing but warmth and flowers, you both leaned towards each other. Your lips touched in a feather-light kiss, meeting again with much more intensity and passion.

Your breathes became one as you two pulled apart, panting lightly.

“We should do that more often”

Main Masterlist

Yay another request done! I’m sorry it took so long and that I’ve been updating very slowly, but I do have some plans that I think are going to be fun so stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed, please stay healthy!~Amanda

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

Completely Enamoured Part Two

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x reader

Summary: y/n goes to the burrow for her annual summer visit, but other than the twins, no one knows that her and Charlie are now together.

A/N: Hello I’m so sorry this was later than I promised, yesterday was such an emotional mess and I got like half of the stuff I was supposed to do, done. But to make up for it this is suuuuuper long and just completely fluff. Like teeth-rotting fluff. Just teenage, domestic fun. Hope you enjoy! xx

Wordcount: 2.2k

Part 1

…

y/n hugged her mum goodbye at the top of the hill closest to the Burrow. She pulled the trunk containing the belongings she would need from the boot of the car, the muggle transport having always proved the most effective. “See you in a week!” She shouted after the car as it drove away, using her wand to make the trunk hover alongside her as she walked down, glad to finally be seventeen and be able to use magic for convenience.

She couldn’t wait to see Charlie again – since they had confessed their feelings to each other they had become impossibly closer, and the few weeks apart since their Hogwarts graduation had not done much but make her miserable, exchanging letters almost daily, to poor Errol’s dismay. His last letter to her made her laugh, as she was reminded how they were still yet to tell the family that their friendship was more than that (other than Fred and George, who had of course been involved in their getting together).

The familiar building came into sight, and she felt her heart light up. The time she spent here had always been her favourite week of every summer, and she had grown incredibly close with the whole family, with the possible exception of Percy, as a result of this time, coupled with the good words of Bill and Charlie as they made their way through school together. She used her wand to lift her trunk over the wall as she stepped through the gate, three figures burst through the door and came streaming towards her, all crying her name.

Charlie was the first to reach her, being much taller and faster than the twins, engulfing her in his arms as he swung her in a circle, her laughter ringing out in delight. He set her back on the floor, standing back a little but keeping his arms circled around her, his face split in a wide smile.

“I missed you, y/n/n” she stepped forward, bouncing onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, moving back before anyone watching from the house would notice.

“Missed you too, Charlie. It’s so nice to be here again.” She beamed at him for a second, before someone else’s hand was around her wrist and was pulling her away from her boyfriend.

“Okay, he’s had enough of your attention, it’s our turn.” She hugged the twins, glad to see them again and sad that she wouldn’t see the rest of their escapades in Hogwarts, them having been the highlight of her last two years there.

“There’s plenty of time for my attention over the next week, Fred.” y/n replied as they too took a step back, but glancing at each other with a look that was completely opposite to Charlie’s, one of pure disgust.

“I’m George!” he cried, resulting in Charlie and y/n laughing loudly.

“Yeah, Fred, that doesn’t work with me.” She deadpanned, as the twins both huffed and turned back towards the house. Charlie picked up y/n’s trunk and gestured for her to follow them into the house.

They walked into the kitchen, where the smell of something sweet immediately washed over her, and the comforting chaos of the burrow was immediately apparent.

“y/n, dear, it’s so lovely to see you again. How have you been since graduation?” Molly walked over to her, pulling her into the tightest hug yet since arriving at the Weasley household.

“Missing your boys.” She admitted, a knowing look appearing in Molly’s eyes. “It’s weird to think that we won’t be going back.”

“Are you missing one boy maybe more than the others?” She hinted. y/n’s first few years visiting the Burrow went without these comments from Molly, being too young for romance, but as soon as fifth year hit, there were countless comments about y/n and Charlie becoming a couple – which before they had both laughed off, and now they both chuckled awkwardly, wondering if this would be the way that she found out.

“She’s not still harping on about that, is she? Give them a break mum, y/n’s not been here for five minutes.” A new voice popped up behind them, saving them from the blush that had been creeping up on their cheeks. Y/n turned, delighted to see the oldest Weasley brother, another one of her close friends from her time at Hogwarts, although he had graduated before her and Charlie, and so she hadn’t seen him much in the last few years.

Yet again, she was wrapped into a warm hug – a trend in the family, no doubt – one that was familiar by far. “How’s curse breaking?” She asked, winking once Molly had turned her back, thinking back to their days at Hogwarts and the Cursed Vaults.

“I’m loving it. Any ideas what you’ll be doing?”

“Not the specifics, but definitely magical creatures. I think I want to help rescued creatures, get them back to the wild, you know.” She spoke, as the three of them began to walk up the stairs. They stopped on the way so that y/n could greet the other Weasley children, not believing how much Ron and Ginny had grown in the year since she last saw them, Ron himself about to start his magical schooling in a few months.

They said goodbye to Bill as they reached Charlie’s room, both heading inside as he placed her trunk against the wall. When y/n came to stay, she was given Charlie’s room and he moved in with Bill for the week – Ginny being ten it seemed that sharing a room with her might not have been the most comfortable situation. Charlie closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a sigh as his eyes rested on her.

“Finally.” With a few short steps he had closed the distance between them, his hands bringing her closer to him and tangling in her hair as their lips met in the middle. She melted into the kiss, having missed his lips so much, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip as she deepened the kiss and they began to stumble backwards, heading towards the bed.

They fell onto it roughly and broke apart laughing at their clumsiness. Charlie swung himself up to sit against the headboard, and y/n joined him, crawling into his arms and he pulled the Daily Prophet from his bedstand, one hand flicking through the pages as the other slowly pulled through her hair. He skipped to the section where jobs were being advertised, and they both sighed at the lack of anything suitable for them, promising to look again the next day.

They stayed in Charlie’s bed, cuddled up together, catching up on what they had been up to since they graduated, recounting stories which had been told in letters, ones which had been too mundane to include at the time. Hours passed, the blue sky outside the window turning to brilliant shades of orange and pink and Bill abruptly interrupted them, opening the door without knocking and walking in, stopping in his tracks as he saw them tangled up together lying on the bed. They had always been close before, sure, hand-holding wasn’t out of the ordinary, and their hugs always lasted beats longer than normal, but this was beyond that.

“Uh-sorry, Mum wanted me to tell you dinner is ready.” Bill spoke eventually, eyes still flicking between the two of them as they jumped off the bed, unable to refrain from saying something, thinking it was worth the panic-induced lecture he would undoubtedly be given from his brother later that night. “You two seemed very cosy.” To his surprise, Charlie didn’t start blushing like mad, immediately jumping in to change the direction of the conversation, instead just shrugging, throwing his arm over y/n’s shoulder as they walked towards the door.

“What, do you expect me to sit on the other side of the room from my girlfriend?” Their roles were reversed as Bill was the one left spluttering, blocking the door to prevent their exit – by non-magical means at least – needing to know more.

“You did it?” He asked to Charlie, a smile finally breaking across his face. “You asked her out?”

“Well, she actually cornered me until I told her how I felt, and then she kissed me. But sure, I asked her out.” y/n rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, but Bill looked ecstatic, clapping his brother on the shoulder proudly.

“Took you both long enough. Who knows?”

“Fred and George – they helped to get us together – and that’s it so far, other than the whole of Hogwarts. It’s fun to pretend.” She laughed, and he finally moved from the doorway, heading downstairs as the couple moved away from each other slightly, regaining the pretence that they were still just best friends, after they had made Bill swear not to tell.

…

They touched back down onto the ground, both pushing their windswept hair from their faces as they put the brooms back into the shed, making their way across the garden back to the house. With Charlie’s head start of a few seconds, y/n took the opportunity to let him get a few steps ahead, before running at him and leaping onto his back, that delightful laugh that Charlie still loved so ringing out as he stumbled at the unexpected weight, trying to regain is balance but failing as they toppled to the floor.

“Oh that’s it, y/l/n, you’re dead.” He laughed as he rolled on top of her, pinning her down as she instantly started to struggle under him, fighting to break free and fighting against the weakness brought about by her laughter. She resorted to her secret weapon, knowing it was the only way to gain her freedom, fingers reaching to Charlie’s side and tickling him, pushing him from her at the first chance she had and leaping to her feet, streaming towards the house before Charlie could catch her.

She made it through the back door seconds before he did, making her way to the table where the new edition of the Prophet lay. Charlie sat down and she stood behind him, absentmindedly working her fingers through the knots in his hair and beginning to braid it as he opened the paper.

“Have fun flying?” Molly asked from the other side of the kitchen, eyeing them up suspiciously as y/n’s hands were tied in Charlie’s hair and she was leaning over his shoulder to read the paper along with him, wondering when they would finally admit their feelings for each other, which only became more obvious as they grew older.

“Oh it was brilliant. I just wish I were as good as Charlie.” y/n replied with a smile, turning her attention back to the newspaper as she gasped, holding his braid in one hand as the other pointed towards the ad she had spotted. “Look! An opening on the dragon reserve in Romania, Charlie, this is perfect!” The excitement between the two of them grew at the prospect of working together, with dragons.

“Romania?” Molly asked, walking over to look at the advert too, the apprehension clear in her voice, which y/n knew was from the idea that yet another of her children would be moving so far away. “Oh, look, there’s only a one bedroom flat available, though.” She pointed out, a sigh following which seemed halfway between genuine and put on.

“Well that shouldn’t be a problem, we don’t need two bedrooms.” Charlie spoke offhandedly, before the three of them froze, him having given up their game.

“Well one of you won’t be sleeping on the sofa, that’s for sure!” Molly reprimanded, not seeming to have caught on. y/n looked at Charlie, who nodded, knowing that it was time to finally tell her.

“We don’t need two bedrooms because we can share one.” Her son spoke gently, bringing one of his hands up to hold the one of y/n’s that was resting on his shoulder, eyes boring into his mother as hers looked between her son, the girl standing behind him, and their connected hands.

“You’re not telling me?” She gasped, hands flying in front of her face. “You two are-” she was interrupted by their silent nods, the tears already visibly brimming in Molly’s eyes. “Oh I can’t believe you’ve finally admitted it!” She cried, pulling them both into bone-crushing hugs. “I’ve always known you would be great together. And now you’re going to be in Romania, living together. And y/n dear, you’ve always been a part of this family, this just makes it even more official.” By now some tears had managed to escape Molly’s eyes as she let them out of the hug and bustled out of the kitchen, mumbling about telling Arthur and her grown up children.

Charlie turned to face his girlfriend, kissing her for the first time all week without caring who might have seen, excited at the prospect of their future together, nothing but happiness and adventures before them. She was shining, looking utterly radiant as he admired her, breaking him out of his trance with her simple statement, his laugh bouncing around the room.

“I knew we could make her cry.”

[thereluctantinquisitor]

4 and/or 49 for the micro story prompts, for Adiran and/or Riin? :D

Thank you for the prompt! It took me a while to think of something but it is finally here! For context, this scene takes place before the tournament, but after Adiran’s older brother has returned to the palace. Adiran was a bit more of a mess than usual for that frame of time, and wanted nothing more than to get away from it all, even if only for a while...

4. one chance AND 49. nightfall

Most evenings, Adiran spent his time in quiet reflection. And by quiet reflection, he meant locking himself in his chambers with a bottle of something that wouldn’t be missed and the shelve of books Leisha had been collecting for him ever since he’d been limited to the palace grounds. Normally, that would be enough to get him by until dawn, when he’d wake with a throbbing headache and just enough regret to make the morning miserable. 

But things weren’t normal anymore. It wasn’t enough.

Nothing ever seemed like enough.

It was almost like sleepwalking, the way he ‘woke up’ from his usual routine to find himself cloaked and standing in the shade of one of the pines in the eastern garden. It was just past nightfall. Almost time.

Adiran could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Mindlessly, he pressed a hand over it, as though to still it. Smother it. Divider - do something with it, because he just realised he hadn’t even figured out what he was going to say, or how he was going to convince him, or---

“Adiran? Is that---”

“ ---Shhh! Idiot - shut up.”

As far as winning Riin over went, opening with a hissed insult probably wasn’t the wisest move. But with his heart in his skull and his hands damp with sweat, finesse was so far from Adiran’s grasp that it might as well have sprouted wings and flown across The Pale. Instead, he grabbed Riin by the sleeve and pulled him out of the torchlit path, into the shadow of one of the trees.

The branches were so low that Riin had to duck slightly just to clear them. To his credit, he hardly seemed fazed by Adiran’s sudden appearance. At least, not in the way Adiran had expected. Instead of getting angry or irritated by the interruption to his routine, Riin’s surprise melted away almost instantly. Instead, a familiar expression replaced it. One Adiran really didn’t need right now.

“What are you... are you alright? Adiran, did something happen?”

And there it was, right on schedule. The guilt. Adiran felt it like a knife to the gut. He could see Riin not-so-subtly trying to get a better look at him, squinting in the dark. “No, I’m... nothing’s wrong.” After having spent so much of the past three years with him, he could sense the man’s desire to push back the hood of his cloak. Reveal whatever ugly mark lay beneath it. Pre-emptively, Adiran reached out and grasped him by the wrists, his voice urgent. “I’m serious, Riin. It’s not what you’re thinking, okay?”

Riin searched his eyes for a moment, not resisting the makeshift restraint, but clearly skeptical. And who could blame him? It was more than a little strange for Adiran to ambush him on his usual trip out into the city. For years, he’d gone every half-turn, reliable as Valcretian clockwork. And he went alone. “Then maybe,” Riin said eventually, “you can help me out, and tell me what I should be thinking.”

Stomach lurching, Adiran released him and stepped back, almost running into the trunk of the tree in his haste. “Fuck. Right. I’m just -- I mean, I just want to...” Flustered, his eyes darted quickly to the palace, the wall, the unmanned side-gate. Focus. Damn it, he only had one chance at this. Convincing him. He couldn’t afford to screw it up.

It seemed he already was, because concern was all but etched into the lines of Riin’s face. “Adiran, I know you said not to worry, but you’re really starting to---”

--- “Take me.” The words rushed out of him before he even had a chance to check their credentials, but at the stunned look on Riin’s face, the rest hurried to catch up. “With you! Take me with you. To the city. Wherever it is you’re going. I don’t care. Just... take me too.”

The initial shock of what sounded like a very different kind of proposition was frozen on Riin’s face for a moment, his eyes wide, lips parted in what could have conceivably been the beginnings of a smile. A laugh. Disbelief. Something like that. But, after a few beats, the expression slowly faded, leaving the two of them standing there in the growing dark, nothing but the sound of trickling water and stirring insects dared share their company.

It just so happened that any silence, no matter how small, was too much for Adiran to bear right now.

“Forget it,” he snapped suddenly. Hands sweating. Chest aching. He had to get out of here. “Look, just forget I said anything. This was...” Stupid. So utterly, completely, fucking stupid. Standing there now, faced with the reality of what he was asking, a thousand uncomfortable truths seemed to crash down on his head. Riin’s contract was with his father. Not him. He shouldn’t have come here - shouldn’t have said anything at all, yet alone asked him to defy the King because... what? Because he felt like he was losing his mind? Felt pathetic? Felt utterly, crushingly lonely?

So fucking what.

“This was a mistake, okay?”Adiran continued, already bundling his cloak around him like a useless shell. “I know you can’t. I get it. I’ll just...” Mid-sentence, Adiran made what he assumed would be a fatal mistake. He looked up. Met Riin’s gaze, and found him...

... smiling?

“Oh - are you finished? If you need a little longer to, ah...” Wrinkling his nose, Riin made a vague gesture - a little like throwing something up, if Adiran was to be perfectly honest. Regardless, it was startling enough to stem his flood of words before he drowned in them. “I can wait, is what I’m saying,” Riin elaborated quickly, eyes glittering in the dim light. “It’s better you do this here, rather than down there in some tavern. There’s no need for awkward explanations when it’s just the two of us under a tree.”

Rather than down in some... wait... was he...?

“Wait... are you serious? Riin, if you’re caught doing this...” He should be elated! This was what he wanted, right? But instead, Adiran found himself shaking his head, some wordless instinct still trying to drag him back inside. Back to his chambers. Back to another night alone, where it was quiet and cold but safe. Honestly, he didn’t know what would happen if they were discovered defying the King’s orders. He doubted his father would sever his contract with a Kyriin - especially not so close to its successful completion. Worst case scenario, he’d probably end Riin’s duty as his training partner, and return him to loitering at his side like some miserable Crownsguard. But even that... “Damn it. I shouldn’t have asked. We both know I’m a selfish prick, so just do me a favour and forget I was even here.”

“Mmm, yes. How selfish of you, to be this worried about my well-being. You truly are your father’s son.” Even in jest, they both cringed slightly at the remark. “Sorry, I... what I mean is... it has been three years, hasn’t it? Has the King even told you when he plans to put an end to this?”

Sighing tightly, Adiran shook his head. “You know him about as well as I do. He doesn’t let things go.”

“You have already been punished more than enough for what happened.”

“Somehow, I doubt he’d agree.” A familiar sick feeling stirred in his stomach. “Riin, my father killed a man - hanged him in the square - just to send me a message. Just to make a point. This...” Swallowing, Adiran felt his gaze being pulled back towards the palace. “This is nothing. Not compared to that. I shouldn’t be out here.”

How could he possibly complain? He was alive. Breathing. That was more than could be said for others who had crossed the Talveran King.

Suddenly, there was a weight on his shoulder. Warm. Steady. It drew him back to the garden. Back to the tree and the trickling water and the cicadas. “You are not to blame for what your father did, Adiran.” Riin squeezed gently, leaning forward to catch his gaze. “And believe me, you are far from the first person to find themselves in a drunken brawl. Neither you or the other man deserve what happened. What is still happening.”

“But I---”

“Did you kill him? The man you fought.”

Adiran looked away. “I might as well have.”

“No - look at me.” Clenching his jaw, Adiran resisted for a moment, wishing they weren’t having this damned conversation, before finally giving in just to get it over with. “Good,” Riin said. “Now, did you order the hanging?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Then what did you demand?”

“Demand?“

“As compensation for your injuries.”

“Divider’s Own, Riin - nothing! We were drunk, and yeah, we acted like a couple of assholes. But I... I figured the city guard was just going to hold him until he sobered up. I didn’t even know I’d been recognised---”

Another squeeze, firmer this time. Adiran broke off, realising he was breathing hard. Too hard. Hard enough to have been mid-sprint. Nodding rapidly, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down. Tried to focus on Riin’s unnatural warmth. His hand on his shoulder. His voice, softer now, as he spoke again. “Adiran... I’m taking you with me tonight. Okay? In truth, I’ve wanted to for a long time.” Something brushed gently against his jaw - the back of a finger? - prompting Adiran to raise his chin and reopen his eyes. “Listen to me. You need this. I’m glad you’re here.”

What more could possibly be said? To deny the truth was pointless. And with those amber eyes staring straight through him, how could he even begin to try?

“Why?” was all he managed instead, and the answer was delivered with a frown. Not of anger, but genuine confusion.

“Why am I glad?”

“No, I mean... why?” Realising, with the help of Riin’s flat stare, that he was being far from helpful, Adiran grunted and forced himself to try again. “You... you know the risks. Why would you agree to this at all?”

To his surprise, Riin relaxed. It wasn’t quite the reaction Adiran had expected; after all, it wasn’t exactly an easy question. But when Riin’s smile returned, warm and soft and reassuring, it suddenly seemed like it was.

“Because you asked me to.”

That was it? Just because he asked? Divider’s Own, that wasn’t a reason! Not a real one.

Was it?

As the silence lingered, Riin eventually arched one dark brow, something akin to amusement in his eyes. “Do you... need some other reason?”

Fuck, he was infuriating sometimes. Completely insufferable. Folding his arms across his chest, Adiran snorted and looked away, doing his best to reassert some kind of control over the mess he’d created. “I mean, it’d probably make me feel better about losing my shit before, yeah.”

Sometimes it was strange, how much Riin appreciated unfiltered honesty. Surprised, he started to laugh, then caught himself, glancing around gingerly, making sure he hadn’t given them away. “Well,” he continued more conservatively, turning back, “it’s a nice evening, and we’ve got a fair walk to where I planned to go tonight. We should head out.” Smiling, he slid his hand from Adiran’s shoulder to his back, applying just enough pressure to coax him gently towards the side gate. “I’ll try to come up with something better along the way.”

“Uh-huh. You’d better.” Adiran rolled his eyes, but they both knew his heart wasn’t in it. Not really. Because what better reason - what better words than the five Riin had already given - could possibly be said?

No, Adiran decided as they slipped through the gate and he found himself free of the palace for the first time in three years. To deny the truth really was pointless.

[girlbabyvelez]

Royals // Chapter Three

Summary:  Royal AU: You’re engaged to marry Chris except the two of you don’t seem to really get along. But the King orders Christopher to get along with you.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

The four of you sat around the table in the conservatory. You watched as the maids served the hot coffee into the cups and set the little breakfast desserts around the table. You notice the maid that you first talked to, she seemed quieter than before and seems to avoid your gaze.

“So tell us about last night Y/N, you snuck off with Christopher,” Paola inquired as she reached out for one of the muffins that Evalia just set out. Evalia stepped back, her ears perking at the conversation topic. She loved Christopher and she couldn’t even think about him being with you, you weren’t even a problem until you moved here.

“Well, we agreed that we would try. We think it’s better if we try to get along, we’re going to be married unless my brother or his father break the alliance but that won’t happen so we might as well be happy.” You answer truthfully. You knew that both of your countries needed this, Ecuador needed men and the strong military backing of Mexico and Joel needed the support of Ecuador in order to have his coronation and fully be crowned king.

“I’m glad you guys were able to come to an agreement,” Itzel responds. You smile warmly at her and nod your head. You hated how Chris was cold towards you when you first arrived, especially because he was the only one you knew and he pushed you away. 

“Me too. So did anything interesting happen at the ball while we were away?” You ask. You wanted them to be having a good time here as well, their happiness was just as important as yours. After all, you did ask them here to be your ladies. You notice how Itzel and Alejandra share a look and a giggle prompting you to question it. 

“Richard and I might have hooked up last night. I mean we danced when you left but then one thing led to another and you know.” Itzel explains. You laugh at her words, she was very flirtatious so it didn’t surprise you but you hadn’t gotten to properly know Richard but I guess he was very flirtatious too if he got Itzel. 

“Damn Itzel you’re already making moves.” You joke and you all laugh. 

“But I’m not the only one. Alejandra and Erick bonded over their shared love for dessert and politics.” Itzel responds. Your eyes shifted over to the quiet girl who sat beside you, she blushed as she took another sip from her coffee. 

“I mean he’s really sweet and we talked a lot about Cuba. Apparently he’s here to help Ecuador too which is nice.” She informs you. 

“Well, I’m glad you are all getting along.” 

~

It had been two days since the ball, and you had yet to have some alone time with Christopher. Anytime the two of you would meet somewhere to spend time all of your ladies tagged along which prompted Chris to invite his friends. But today the two of you had planned to go to the library and try to get to know each other better. You walked through the now-familiar halls when you hear the singing coming from the library, you step quietly not wanting to interrupt or scare him. You had to admit he was a good singer which was something interesting to know about him. As soon as you stepped in the library you saw him running one hand through his hair while the other grazed the books as he sang.

“¿Tú cantas?” You ask, announcing your presence. Christopher quickly turns to you. He puts on a smile as he sees you. To be honest, Chris was mostly doing this for his country and because his father commanded him to get along with you. But he felt like he also owed it to the both of you to at least try. He motions for you to sit at a table 

“Yeah, occasionally.” He answers as the two of you decide to sit across each other at the table. This was nice, you had just arrived and you already knew more about Christopher. It was the first step into getting along. 

Just as you sit down, you notice the small bouquet that sat in the middle of the table as a decoration. You reach your hand out to touch the vibrant and delicate white and pink magnolias. Christopher noticed the way you gently touched one of the flowers.

“Do you like magnolias?” Christoper asks you, watching as you look at the flowers happily. 

“Yeah. They’re not my favorite though.” You answer. You pull your hand back to your side and look over at Christopher who was already looking at you. 

“What’s your favorite?” You take a moment to think about his question, you loved all flowers but your favorite was always between lilies and dahlias. 

“I guess I would have to say lilies. What about you?” 

“Oh, definitely magnolias. That’s why there are so many in our garden.” He tells you. You’re a bit surprised that he was the reason that so many magnolias were planted outside, it made the garden look so beautiful. 

“Wait how?” 

“Well when I wasn’t learning politics and law with my father, I would spend time with my mother outside. And she loved magnolias too so we planted one magnolia and that turned into us planting more.” He tells you. You sit there for a moment, processing the soft man in front of you. He was so cold yet he has a kind and down to earth soul that you appreciated. You were glad he was being open about this. 

“Aw well I’m glad you and your mother had something to do that was outside of your royalty. Sometimes it can be drowning when it’s all you do.” He nods at your response, he understood what you meant perfectly. Being a future leader of a country could be unbearable at times but he was born for it.

“So, how are you adjusting to life in Ecuador?” He questions changing the subject. You sigh at his question, Ecuador was so beautiful but you missed Mexico so much. You missed your family, especially Joel and Israel those were the ones who would have your back and they were the ones you spent the most time with.

“I love it here but I’m definitely homesick,” You answer honestly. Chris’ smile drops at your words, he didn’t realize that you had left everything you had known to come and be with him. This would become your new home since you would be the Queen of Ecuador, you would probably only return back to Mexico when your brother requested.

“I’m sorry. I know it can be tough but I’m here for you. Plus I wouldn’t mind if you taught me some traditions from Mexico.” 

“Really? You would be willing to try and learn?” 

“Sí, if you’re going to be my wife I want to learn everything about you.” He answers and you can see that he genuinely means it. After your encounter when you first arrived, you were nervous that this was going to be miserable for both of you but you felt better with his words.

“Sounds like a deal Velez.” You playfully wink at him. And he only chuckles at your actions. The two of you were feeling more comfortable with each other which was good, this allowed both of you to be able to talk more.

~

The King sat on his throne, surrounded by one of the commanders of their army, his wife, and Christopher. The news was bad, worse than they were expecting and Christopher gauged his father’s reaction at the bad news that was being delivered by one of the commanders to their army. 

“So Colombia is pushing their troops across our borders?” The King asks clarifying what the commander told them. 

“Yes, they had enough troops to take Tulcan from us and we believe they will soon take San Gabriel.” He answers. Christopher watches as his father slams his hand on the armrest of the throne before rubbing his face. 

“Okay take more troops, we cannot allow them to keep pushing and invade.” The King orders and the commander nods before leaving the throne room. 

“We can’t keep sending all of our troops padre. Soon we won’t have any.” Christopher warns his father as he steps up towards him. His father shakes his head at his words knowing that the sooner Chris and you married it would be easier to push against Colombia. 

“You need to marry princess Y/N and soon.”

“Well we can’t push it further, you know that Joel and his mom have to set the date.” Christopher reminds his father. They had more power in this alliance which meant that your family got to decide almost everything. 

“But we can push them. We’ll have to officially announce your engagement. They would have to marry the two of you before the end of the social season, it’s tradition.”

~

Christopher stepped into the entryway that connected both the west and east wings together. The two of you were meeting in the middle so he could escort you to the garden party where the two of you would officially announce your engagement and set it in stone, which made both of you nervous but the two of you have become closer over the past few weeks. After the conversation in the library, it became easier for the two of you to talk to each other and get along. You guys were friends now which was good for your future marriage at least.

As soon as he saw you standing with your ladies waiting for him, he stopped in his steps. You wore an elegant dress that was white with pink detailing, matching the native magnolias that grew in the garden and he had to admit that it looked stunning on you. 

“Princesa,” Chris catches your attention as he steps up towards you. You warmly smile at him and take a step closer to him reaching your hand out and laid it on his arm. 

“Are you ready?” You ask him and he nods his head.

“Yeah. Te ves hermosa.” He whispers as the two of you begin to walk towards the entrance to the garden. You blush and look down at your dress trying to hide your blushing face from him. 

“Gracias. I remember that you mentioned you loved magnolias so I got a matching dress for today.” You respond as the two of you step out into the garden. His heart melts a little at the fact that you got a dress because of his favorite flower. 

Once you arrive at the garden party, the two of you have only moments to greet everyone that you can before you get called over by the King and Queen. Christopher places his hand at the small of your waist and guides you over to them. 

“Are you guys ready?” The Queen asks as she looks at you, she wanted to make sure you were good and comfortable. She was nervous when she had to make the announcement way back before she married the King. You avert your eyes from her gaze and look at Christopher who looks at you the same way, with comforting brown eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m just nervous.” 

“Me too princesa but we’re in this together,” Christopher whispers. It was enough to reassure you so you grab his hand as the two of you place yourselves in front of the crowd.

“Atención todos!” The King orders, everyone quickly quieting and turning towards him. You and Christopher stood beside him. “I would like to thank you all for joining us for the garden party. Now my son has a very important announcement to make.” The King lays a hand on Chris’ shoulder. 

“I would like to announce that Princess Y/N of Mexico and I are to be wed!” Christopher announces. 

“Yes, my son will finally wed, Ecuador has a future queen. And we are pleased to announce that the wedding will be on July 18!” The King adds the surprise announcement. July 18 was only a month away, your mother or brother couldn’t have chosen this date, you know they wanted to do it in September if possible, but July? You turn to Christopher with questioning eyes and he looks just as surprised as you.

-

Author’s Note: Ahh sorry for the long ass wait, I’ve been dealing with some stuff and whatever I am back now. The next chapter will be juicyyyyy and it will be a lot longer soo. Any thoughts on this fic?

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