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hellodarling1357 · 11 months ago

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Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 3

Hello hello!!! Part 3 is finalllyyyyy here, I’m so sorry for the wait. It’s a bit of a filler chapter but the next part should (hopefully) be up soon.

Here’s a link to part 1 and part 2 ✨

Enjoy and let me know what you think 🥰

Word Count: 2.3k

Your feet stumbled as you came to an abrupt halt, unable to tear your eyes away from the pair walking along the other side of the river.

The male you had let yourself believe you had a chance with, and the female, Evalina, who was clearly his perfect match.

Cassian and Evalina had been together almost two decades ago before their relationship was ripped to shreds by such a monumental fight that no one had dared asked Cassian what had caused it.

Although you had been concerned for Cassian during the fallout, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden joy that coursed through you at the thought of Evalina no longer being around.

It seems, however, you were wrong.

Embarrassment washed over you as you realised this is what Cassian would’ve wanted to talk to you about this morning; he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying and, oh, by the way, Evalina is back in the picture.

“Y/N?”

Mor pulled you from your thoughts, her eyes tracking over to see what had you stopping, causing her to let out a sigh as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and forced you to keep moving.

“Come on. Let’s skip dinner and get you nice and drunk.”

You wouldn’t argue with that.

*****

“Hello ladies, welcome, welcome,” A handsome fae male greeted as you stepped inside the cozy wine bar. “How can I help you today? Table for two?”

You let Mor answer and guide you to your seat, too caught up in self pity to say anything to the male.

“Now,” He said with a clap of his hands and a dazzling smile. “My name is Bryn, owner of this establishment and your server for today. We are fairly new here and are missing a few shipments so our drinks list is somewhat limited, but I’ll do my best. What were you both after?”

Mor shot you a glance but you were preoccupied with looking out the window, torturing yourself by trying to catch a glance of where Cassian and Evalina might have gone.

“Just a bottle of wine please,” Another glance in your direction had Mor adding, “And two shots of vodka”

With a chuckle, Bryn took your menus and promised to be right back with your drinks.

“So,” You glanced back at Mor as she spoke, knowing your face was the picture of misery but unable to bring yourself to care. “Are you finally going to admit to me that you’re head over heels in love with Cassian, or do I have to keep pretending not to notice?”

You let out a groan and placed your head on the table.

A soft “ahem” caused you to jump up, cheeks flushing, as you realised Bryn had just arrived with two shot glasses.

You gave him a sheepish look and muttered a quick “thanks”, kicking Mor under the table as she laughed at you and your clearly broken heart.

Downing the shot, you glared back at Mor before reaching across the table and downing her shot as well.

“Hey!” Mor grumbled as you slammed the glass down.

Before you could respond, Bryn appeared again, bottle of clear liquid in hand.

“Looks like you might need this,” he said as he filled up both glasses again. “It’s on the house.”

Mor quickly grabbed her glass back before you could finish both of them off again.

With a sigh you pushed your now-empty shot glass towards the middle of the table.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Does Cassian know?” If he knew it would make the whole mess of a situation so much worse.

“I don’t know, Y/N. But I’m not sure if—“

You were hardly listening to what she was saying as you replayed the past 24 hours and the emotional roller coaster you had endured.

“I feel so stupid,” Mor stared back at you in silence, giving you a small smile that encouraged you to continue. “Last night, once we got back, we were just arguing back and forth, just about dumb things, and then he said…he was drunk, really drunk, but he said he loved me.”

Two wine glasses were placed in front of you and you graciously took a sip, unable to bring yourself to meet Mor’s eye.

“He said he loved me, and…I don’t know, I passed it off as him being drunk and just being him. But then, before he went to bed, he said it again, and the way he looked at me…,” You let out a heavy sigh before taking another sip of wine. “I just feel so stupid for letting myself think, hope, that it was real and that he actually meant it. But then this morning he wanted to talk, and now that Evalina is back in the picture…” You trailed off, still trying to piece your thoughts together.

Mor was silent for a moment as she turned over all you had said. It didn’t make any sense. She had seen you and Cassian together, the way you looked at one another, the joking and back-and-forth banter, the way both of your feelings were obvious to everyone except yourselves. But maybe she had been wrong…

“It might not be what you think it is,” Mor finally said. “Maybe just give yourself a couple of days, get some distance from him so you can sort out your own thoughts. Then we’ll work it out.”

Giving her a small smile, you nodded in response before changing the topic.

“Enough about me,” A sly smile spread across your face. “Will your friend from last night be joining us at Starfall this year?”

*****

You didn’t need to try too hard at avoiding Cassian over the next few days. Despite the upcoming celebrations, your workload remained never ending, allowing you only fleeting greetings as you crossed paths with one another.

As luck would have it, the week before Starfall, Rhys sent Cassian to Illyria to look into some rumoured wing clippings that had started springing up across some of the smaller camps. Although you missed him and worried about your friend whilst he was away, you found a sense of relief filling you as you were no longer having to hide away to avoid him.

You knew you would have to talk it out eventually, but for now you let yourself ignore the emotional turmoil and instead focused on the upcoming Starfall celebrations.

*****

You were just adding the finishing touches to your makeup when there was a knock on your door, followed by Mor letting herself in, not waiting for you to answer.

“Hello to you too.” You smiled at your friend in the mirror as you swiped some blush over your other cheek.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted as she passed you a generously filled glass of wine before setting herself down in one of the armchairs.

“Says you, you look absolutely stunning.” Mor just brushed off your compliment with a wave of her hand.

“Well go on, let’s see the dress. Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Taking a sip of wine, you walked over to your changing room, haphazardly throwing your silk robe onto the floor as you donned your Starfall dress.

Despite yourself, and the whirlwind the past two weeks had been, you couldn’t help but look forward to tonight. The distance from Cassian had helped you sort through your racing thoughts and allowed you to compose yourself enough to act as though nothing had changed.

Cassian had been delayed at one of the war camps and, according to Mor, had only returned to Velaris a few hours ago. Having been locked away with Rhys upon his return to go over his reports, and then with you spending the better part of the day bathing and getting yourself ready, you were yet to actually see him.

With a sigh you brushed out the skirt of your dress before grabbing your shoes and heading back out to the main part of your bedroom where Mor was waiting.

“I told you it was the perfect dress.” Mor squealed excitedly at the sight of you.

Grinning back at her, you quickly slid into your shoes before doing a final check over. You could feel your nerves start to flutter at the thought of seeing Cassian again, most likely with Evalina by his side if the other night was anything to go off.

With a final deep breath, you picked up your wine glass and turned to Mor.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

*****

The echo of music and excited chatter flowed down the hallway as the two of you headed towards the crowd. A quick glance around the room told you Cassian was yet to join and you felt your tension somewhat ebbing away as you and Mor headed over to where Rhys, Azriel, and Amren stood.

You lost yourself in the music and just being able to enjoy the night with your friends, your worries from earlier were long gone, the multiple drinks you had consumed definitely playing a helpful factor.

Noticing everyone’s glasses were getting low, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar to get the next round.

Patiently waiting for a tray of five glasses, you leant against the wall and watched the party before you in a contented silence. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you were also keeping an eye out for a certain red-siphoned Illyrian who you had yet to spot.

“Well you’re definitely looking better compared to the last time I saw you.”

You startled at the fae male who suddenly appeared by your side.

“Hi…” You trailed off, giving him an apologetic smile. He definitely looked familiar but you couldn’t place where you had met.

“Bryn.” He laughed. “You and your friend visited my bar the other week. Though I don’t blame you for not remembering me, seemed like you had quite a bit on your mind.” He finished with a wink at your clearly embarrassed expression as you thought back to your sorry state that night.

“Bryn, of course. How are you? How’s business?”

Shooting you another grin, he excitedly said, “Oh, it’s really great. Been pretty busy so that’s keeping me busy, but I do love it. We have a similar establishment in the Dawn Court but my partner is originally from here so we decided it was time to move back. Actually…would you excuse me? I believe one of the guests over there dabbles in the selling of fine wines…”

You blinked in response to his faced paced chatter and his sudden retreating figure, shaking your head a bit with a chuckle at what felt like the conversation equivalent of whiplash.

“Miss…” A voice called out, “Your drinks.”

Turning back to the bar, you hurried over for the tray, offering a gracious smile before heading into the throng of people to where your friends stood.

“Well you took your time, did someone catch your eye?” You rolled your eyes at Mor’s teasing as the others chuckled and thanked you for the drinks.

“Actually,” you started, giving Mor a dismissive look when she excitedly perked up. “Bryn, the owner of that new bar we went to the other week, is here, he was just telling me how it was all going. Here, someone hold this, I’m just going to take the tray back.”

You handed your glass off to Azriel before weaving your way back towards the bar. You waved at Bryn as you passed, who was now animatedly talking to who you assumed was the wine seller.

Movement behind you and the sudden call of your name had you looking around, your heart dropping as you were suddenly stood in front of Cassian and Evalina.

You gaped for a moment before quickly collecting yourself and plastering on a smile.

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re back.”

Cassian gave you a soft smile, opening his mouth to say something but Evalina cut in.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Cauldron, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You stiffened as she locked her arm around Cassian’s, a smirk gracing her features. “Can you believe that I’ve finally found my mate?”

And there it was.

You felt the blood rush to your head, the surrounding sounds of the party becoming a distant murmur as your body tensed and eyes went wide.

Her mate. Cassian was her mate, and she was his, and…

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cassian’s concerned voice had everything rushing back into focus.

You blinked up at him, cursing yourself for the burning sensation as tears welled in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, you should be happy for him, for them. But you couldn’t muster the energy to pretend anymore, not as you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.

Ignoring Cassian’s question and the bewilderment on Evalina’s face, you turned on the spot and walked away.

*****

Sorry… 👀

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #morrigan acotar #amren acotar #marley writes

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roselensedeyes · 1 year ago

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Be still, my foolish heart - part two

Pairing: elriel, elain x azriel

Word count: 5k

NSFW: yes

Hello everyone!

Here's finally part two! It's shorter than the first part, but don't worry! I have a multichaptered elriel fic releasing during Azriel's week. It features Elain as a single mom, and I'm super excited to finally share it with you!

Here's the link to Part one and the link to AO3! I hope you enjoy!

Uri’s arms were tight around Elain’s neck as Azriel gathered both of them in his arms and shot in the sky.

Although his flying had improved greatly in the month since his first flying lesson with his new father, the flight from the town house to the river house was still too arduous for Uri’s recently-healed wings.

Not to mention how nervous he was for tonight’s dinner.

Elain and Azriel had tried to reassure him that everything would be fine, yet his heart still beat too rapidly, his hands felt clammy and shaky, and he still kept picking at his nails.

He was fidgeting in Elain’s arms, trying to assess how long until their descent. Not that he had any actual idea; after all, this was going to be the first time he visited the river house, the first time he met the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, and their inner circle.

“Don’t fret, sweet boy,” his mother soothed. “Everyone will love you. I heard there might be presents with your name on them, too,” she whispered, conspiratorially. Even the promise of gifts wasn’t enough to draw away his anxiety. So Elain settled on rubbing his back, hoping the comfort of her embrace would help calm her son down. It did, a little.

“We’re here,” Azriel announced.

She heard Uri take in a deep breath as they made their way down the path that led to the entrance. Elain assessed the state of the flowers she’d planted a few weeks back; she made a mental note to remind her sister and brother-in-law how often some of the flowers needed to be watered.

Uri was holding both of his parents’ hands as they walked. When they were a few feet from the door, their son stopped dead in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Az asked him.

“I want to go home,” the Illyrian boy replied quietly.

“Can I ask why?”

Uri didn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on the ground. He shook his head, once.

Elain and Azriel exchanged a look, before Az got down to Uri’s eye level. He gently lifted his chin. “If you want to go home, we can and we will,” he said firmly, holding Uri’s gaze. “Though I know your aunts and uncles really, really want to meet you.” The boy’s eyes gleamed with uncertainty at that. “All week, your mom and I got so many questions about you from our family.”

Some of the nervousness had eased off from their son’s face the more Azriel spoke. He glanced behind his father’s back, toward the door. His eyes widened.

Elain looked at it, too, and saw Cassian staring at them from the window near the entrance. She rolled her eyes, and tried her best to hold in her laughter. Especially as she saw Amren’s smaller figure trying to take a peek from behind Cassian’s much bigger frame.

Her mate had noticed them, too, and snorted. Uri glanced back at him. “I told you,” he shrugged. “They’re really excited to meet you.”

With one last look at the now-clear window, his hands in each of his parents’, Uri took the final steps and entered the river house.

Azriel watched as his son played with his cousin Nyx and his uncle Cassian. He wasn’t sure what game it was, but as Uri laughed, loudly, again, he found he didn’t care much. As long as he was happy and safe, he let him have his space and possibility to explore himself, to find out who he was, what his likes and dislikes were.

As he sat on the end of the sofa, his lovely mate on his side in the middle of what appeared to be an intense conversation with her sister Nesta, Azriel thought back on tonight’s dinner and how smoothly it went.

He’d had no doubts that Uri would adapt quickly — even less that his family would wound up loving his son — yet he didn’t have the words to convey the emotion that overtook him when Uri had finally relaxed his body completely, and hugged Feyre of his own will.

Az’s High Lady hadn’t let him go for a long while. Nesta had tried to take him from her, but Feyre refused, claiming her favorite nephew needed her love a while longer. Nevermind that he was her only nephew, a fact she waved off when her older sister pointed it out.

When they’d gotten through the threshold, Uri had been pale with apprehension. Rhys had answered the door, and promptly stopped his new nephew from bowing to him. “You’re my family. I never ask that of my family,” he’d explained gently. The young Illyrian had blushed, but before his embarrassment could escalate, Rhys said, “We weren't sure what you liked. Your mother and father weren’t really helpful with that, so if you don’t like it we can change it.” Then, the High Lord of the Night Court gestured behind him, towards a pile of presents.

Spring was approaching, yet it felt like Solstice. “They’re all yours,” Rhys nodded at Uri, whose jaw dropped open in wonder. He pointed at his chest in disbelief. Rhys smiled and, grabbing his hand, led him to the gifts. They were from Rhysand and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, from Mor and even from Amren. He’d gotten toys and clothes, shoes and jewelry. Cassian had gotten him Illyrian fighting leathers, promising him to be the one to train him when he was ready. Uri had glanced at Azriel at that, murmuring he wanted his dad to train him. His heart had warmed in his chest, and he’d looked smugly at his brother. The latter had rolled his eyes at him, before grudgingly amending that Az could train with them, too.

His son had been shy for the majority of the dinner, until Nyx had woken up and demanded to play with his new friend. After that, any tension that still held Uri in its grip vanished. His quietness had released him, and Az was now rubbing his temples, sensing a headache forming.

Elain’s delighted laugh brought him back to the present. He looked at her now. His mate was the most beautiful in all of Prythian. He was a lucky bastard. He wondered if he’d ever think he deserved her. He shook his head. How could he, so broken and sullen, deserve someone as perfect as her? Elain’s beauty went beyond a pretty face. No, hers manifested when she cared for their son, when she looked after her garden and baked her family’s favorite desserts. It came out when she used her power to help the court she belonged to, when she used her weaknesses to create something greater. It showed when she kissed him, soft and sweet, in their bed late at night, early in the morning in the bath, nothing between their naked bodies. When he was inside her, the loving sounds she made.

No, he could never deserve something as magnificent as she was.

Azriel was still staring at the love of his life as she looked him over her shoulder. Elain smiled softly at him, light dancing in her eyes. I love you, she mouthed. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to find a hidden alcove and show her with his mouth and body how far his love for her went.

A shadow appeared in front of him. Not one of his own. Rhys.

Things between them had been tense for a while, since that fateful night over a year ago, in the office where Rhys had forbidden him to be with Elain. Even after their mating bond had snapped into place, things between them hadn’t gone back to how they were before. It made Az feel guilty that he couldn’t let that sense of betrayal go.

A week after they’d accepted the mating bond, when the frenzy and animalistic instincts had finally allowed them to be around people who weren’t their son, they’d announced it to their family.

Azriel could still remember the tension in his body, how cold and clammy his hands were, how Elain’s were shaking, the rapid beat of her heart as they told their family. Feyre and Nesta had been overjoyed. They’d been worried about their sister ever since she’d told them about how she and Lucien intended to cleave their bond. It was something never-been-done before, their fears well understandable. They’d thrown their arms around her, hugging her so tight with their love and happiness. So was Cassian, while Amren only smirked and sipped from her cup. Mor had looked at them with a strange gleam in her eyes, but had smiled and congratulated them.

Yet they weren’t the ones who worried them. It was Rhys, Rhys who had stayed silent while the others expressed their felicitations, and who now was looking at them without a hint of what he was feeling. Az had been ready to grab Elain and take them back to the town house, to Uri, who they’d thought best to leave at home with Nuala and Cerridwen for this meeting. Then Rhys had smiled at them, and had wished them a happy union for eternity.

Azriel had frozen as Elain had thanked her brother-in-law and kissed him on the cheek. Az’s brother had noticed his reaction, though, and a while later, while everyone was distracted, had taken him aside and told him, “I am sorry, brother, if I made you feel like your feelings didn’t matter to me. They do, they always have and always will. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

And that had been that. They’d exchanged a look of understanding, before they hugged and went back to their family. Where Elain and Az had dropped a bigger news: they’d adopted a child.

Yet things still hadn’t smoothed between them yet. He guessed some things needed time to heal and grow anew, and perhaps this was one of those.

“Hi,” Rhys said now. “It looks like Uri is enjoying himself.”

Az smiled and nodded his agreement. “He does. Now he has a friend to play with, as does Nyx.”

Rhys gave him a pleased smile. “They do. It’s what I always saw in my mind, as I worked to build this court into something I was proud of. Our children being friends, playing without a care in the world.”

Azriel thought on his words, and realized it was the truth. His son, and any other children he might have one day, would never again feel unsafe or scared. And it was thanks to him, to Elain, to Rhys and the Night Court.

Elain interlaced her fingers with his in that moment, as if she could hear his thoughts. He sent his gratitude and love down their bond, and felt a kiss through it.

Their family had insisted, though it hadn’t taken much convincing.

As she walked down the aisle in a beautiful strapless, champagne, flowy dress, Elain thought back to her girlhood, when she used to dream and plan her wedding. There was always a handsome young Lord at her side, but reality had given her someone else. Someone her young, human mind couldn’t envision. He was much better than any of her fantasies.

The love of her life, her husband, was looking at her as she made her way to him. Elain had thought they’d have a mating ceremony, but Azriel had surprised her by telling her he wanted to have a human wedding.

“We’re already mated,” he’d explained. “All fae know we are. Now I want the humans to know you’re mine, too. Plus, I want to put my ring on your finger,” he’d shrugged.

She’d rolled her eyes at that, though the smile on her face was huge. She’d kissed him, and kissed him some more when he told her he knew she had their wedding planned already, and wanted to hear it.

The reality was pretty faithful to what she had in mind.

Elain reached her soon-to-be-husband, stared him in the eyes the entire time the High Priestess talked, when they recited their vows, when they slid their rings on each other’s fingers. Only closed them when they shared the kiss that sealed their union.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. They danced, laughed, ate. They celebrated their marriage with their family, but most importantly with their son. Uri had perhaps been more excited than them.

But now they were back at their home, alone. In the morning, they would leave for the continent, where they’d spend a week there traveling from town to town. It was Elain’s dream, and her perfect mate was about to crown it.

But that was tomorrow, tonight their first as husband and wife. It felt foolish to be nervous. It technically wasn’t different from the others, from their first as mates. Still, her stomach was fluttering, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Azriel was looking at her, hunger and love battling in his eyes. Elain swallowed before she turned around, giving him her back.

“Will you take off my dress?”

Nothing— He neither said nor did anything for a few beats.

Then she felt him walk over, his scarred hands landing on her nape, where the zipper lay. The descent was agonizingly slow. Goosebumps appeared on her back, her arms, her neck. When the zipper met its end, she could have sworn his little finger grazed the top of her bottom. She shivered, arousal making her eyes roll in the back of her head.

She heard him take a deep breath. In a flash, she was against the wall, his mouth pressing against her hard, hot, wet. She matched his fire.

Elain felt his hardness against her pelvis, thrusting against her, seeking relief. She bit his lip, hard enough that he reared back. “Take your wife to bed, husband.”

His eyes flashed as he did just that. He stripped both of them. Then, his head was between her legs, tasting her wetness. He groaned as she gripped his hair as she thrusted against him, her legs finding their place on his shoulders. She gasped as she found her pleasure, but he wasn’t done.

In one single push, he was inside her. A moan wrenched out of her, loud, and she would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t already sliding in and out, reaching that sweet spot deep inside her. His mouth was wet against her throat, making goosebumps appear on her skin, before sliding down to her breasts.

When he bit a hardened peak, white stars appeared behind her eyelids. She soon heard his answering groan, before he fell on top of her, breath haggard.

They kissed, slow at first, quickly became passionate and bruising. Lust and devotion, fervor and tenderness. “I love you,” she whispered to him.

“I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I didn’t know at the time that that was what it was, yet now I look back and feel like a fool for not realizing it sooner. I will never be able to explain the depth of the emotion I feel for you. You are my sun, my moon, and my guiding star,” he said, not once tearing his gaze from hers.

Elain had managed not to spill any tears all day, yet now they escaped freely, rolling down her cheeks. She’d once thought Graysen would be the one to murmur these loving words to her, that he’d be her husband. She was the real fool, here.

She kissed him again, trying to tell him without words how much she loved him.

They fell asleep while he still was inside her, embraced tightly together.

Elain and Azriel had a secret.

They didn’t mean to keep it much longer – not that they could, even if they wanted to. But, they weren’t ready to share it with other people yet. They wanted it to be theirs for just a little longer, the unexpectedness of it still so surreal. Elain smiled each time she thought about it, though the knowledge stayed at the back of her mind constantly. It wasn’t something she could forget, something she didn’t want to forget. She smiled again now, before it nervously fell away.

Yet the main reason why they hadn’t told their family yet was another. And he was staring at them right now.

Elain’s leg kept jumping up and down as she dined with her family. Her churning stomach didn’t want her to introduce any food inside it, but the concern on her mate’s face was enough to make her force some of the stew down her throat.

Uri’s beautiful hazel eyes looked up at her, apprehension swirling in them. She tried to smile, but by the way his eyebrows furrowed even more, she knew it didn’t do anything to smooth his nerves.

“What’s wrong?” He asked them, putting down his spoon.

Azriel looked at her before replying, “Nothing is wrong, baby. Keep eating your stew.”

But Uri only shook his head. “You’re lying. Why are you lying? You hate it when I lie, so why are you lying to me now?”

The corners of Elain’s mouth threatened to quirk at the habit he’d picked up when he was five. Even though he was almost eight, it was still something he hadn’t outgrown. Maybe he would never outgrow it, instead become a defining trait of his personality.

Taking a deep breath, she met her son’s eyes. “Nothing is wrong, but we need to tell you something.”

Azriel went still at her side. Biting her lip she nodded, more to herself than to Uri.

“We have some exciting news.” Az grabbed her hand. “We haven’t told anyone, yet, because we wanted you to be the first to know.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Her words were met with silence. She watched as her son’s features slowly fell, her own smile equally dropping. She looked at her mate, lost.

“You’re going to be a big brother. Aren’t you excited?” Azriel asked him.

In answer, Uri began eating again. Elain placed a hand against her chest, where she could have sworn she could feel her heart breaking underneath.

She remembered how excited she was when her own parents had told her she was getting a new sibling. She’d prayed for another sister, who she could dress and have tea parties with. Feyre hadn’t really enjoyed them, though, so once again Elain’d had to play by herself.

“You’re going to have someone to play with all the time, isn’t that exciting?” She tried a different tactic.

He only shrugged. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Is there– Do you… not want a sibling?” Her voice was quiet, tremulous.

Again, Uri only shrugged. Az cleared his throat. “You know you can always come to us for anything, right? You know we’ll always love you, no matter what?”

He nodded. “I’m finished. Can I go play for a while before going to sleep?”

Her heart beating rapidly, lost for words, Elain only managed a nod. He was out of his chair before her next blink.

When she was sure he was far away, she let out a quiet sob. Azriel’s arms were immediately around her. “Shh, my love. It’s alright.”

Elain shook her head. “No, it’s not. You saw how he reacted, Az. He’s not happy about this,” she said, gesturing to her still-flat stomach. It would take a while before it’d begin to swell, Madja had said.

Azriel had insisted she visit the healer as soon as he noticed the change in her scent. It happened one lazy, early morning. His kisses had woken her up, and when she opened her eyes it was to the sight of Azriel’s filled with unshed tears. He’d held her in his arms, his hand resting against her belly. “My love,” he’d whispered. “You’ve given me too great a gift.”

They’d made love, gently, their hands held together, their wet cheeks touching. their breaths mingling. They told each other how far their love went, not just with their words, but with their hands, their bodies.

Yet, now that quiet joy she’d felt that day threatened to crumble in the face of Uri’s dismay.

“He only needs to come to terms with this. It’s a big change, and considering where he comes from, it makes sense that he needs some time before he can fully embrace this new adventure of sorts,” said Azriel.

Elain nodded, praying to the Mother that he was right.

He wasn’t right.

Azriel and Elain laid on the couch, going through reports Rhys had sent over. Nuala and Cerridwen, with the occasional help from Azriel, had trained her in the past few years, and now she proudly called herself the Spymistress of the Night Court. Her visions helped with their missions, although with the recent peace they’d reached those missions were now very few and far between.

Elain let out a yawn and snuggled closer to her mate, who dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go put our son to sleep, my love. Then we can go to bed, too.” He gently lifted her, sorting the papers and placing them on top of a shelf, where Uri couldn’t reach them. He knew better than to fly inside the house. Not that there was enough space, anyway.

Their boy hadn’t come downstairs since dinner. They’d hear him move at times, but mostly he was being quiet. Maybe Az was right, Elain mused, maybe he just needed to brood and work through his emotions and thoughts before he could understand how he truly felt about having a new sibling. After all, he’d been an only child his whole life. When he did figure out his true feelings, he’d come to them, and they’d discuss and face them like the real family they were.

Sure, it would devastate her if Uri was unhappy about his sibling, but she was sure talking about it would make him see how great of a news it was. Sentiment reinforced, she straightened her spine and got up, following her mate up the stairs.

That was when an eerie sensation had her go still. Her stomach clenched. She gripped Az’ hand, her eyes searching for Uri’s door. Az turned to her, a question written in his gaze. “What’s wrong, my love? Is it a vision?” They —Uri included— had gotten used to her sudden visions. She had better control now than when her powers first manifested, could block them or make them come forward when she deemed it best, yet when the vision was too strong, the message too important to be ignored, there was nothing she could do but submit to it. It used to frighten Uri, while it made Azriel restless, but now it was familiar, accepted.

Elain shook her head even as her grip on Az’s hand tightened. “Uri— It has to do with Uri.”

He didn’t question her — he never did. Her mate simply turned around and marched toward their son’s bedroom.

He knocked, once, twice, three times. Only then did he open the door

The sight nearly knocked the breath out of her lungs.

All of Uri’s clothes were no longer in his wardrobe. Instead, they were all over his bed and the floor, where the child in question was sitting, carefully folding his clothes. He looked up at them, then went back to placing the shirt in his hand in a big, black bag.

“What’s the meaning of this,” Azriel asked, though it was more of a demand than a request.

“I’m packing my stuff, and then I’ll leave,” Uri answered, and though Elain could tell he meant to sound collected, the tremors in his voice gave him away.

“What,” she gasped.

“I’m trying to be as fast as I can, I promise,” Uri rushed out to say. “I am not going to take all of the clothes, either. I know you’ll need them for the baby,” he said.

A shudder went through her body. The thought of having a brother or sister was so awful for Uri that he planned on leaving them.

“Can I take my toys with me? I would like something to play with at the orphanage, unless you want to give them to your baby,” he explained, and he sounded so calm, like this was a fact nothing and no one could change.

A sob wrenched out of her. Uri looked up at her in surprise, his eyes wide.

“You are our baby,” Azriel said, intensely. “If you think we’ll allow you to go away, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Uri’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But—But you’re having your own baby.”

Elain tilted her head. “You already are my own baby. Just because I didn’t bore you doesn’t mean you are not. It pains me to think I ever made you feel like I don’t love you from the deep well of my heart.”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I– I know you love me. It’s only that…” He trailed off, looking down at the ground, almost like he couldn’t bring himself to say the actual words.

Then Elain made the decision to sit down on the floor with him. Azriel quickly followed. She laid a hand against his cheek. It was still baby soft, one of the few remembrances of his childhood. “What’s troubling you, my sweet boy?”

Uri’s face crumpled. And then he sobbed. Elain’s hands wrapped around his head and brought it against her chest. She swayed back and forth, murmuring soothing words, stroking his hair. Az rubbed his back.

“I don't want you to stop loving me!” Uri bellowed out, like he’d restrained himself from speaking the words out loud for so long that now they fought to get out as loudly as possible. “I want you to love me forever, I don’t want to leave,” he yelled.

Elain’s eyes watered, and she wanted to cry, too, yet her words were steady and unfaltering as she said, “Listen to me, Uri.” She lifted his head up, staring right in her son’s red, shining eyes. “That will never happen. You’re not going anywhere. You are our son, and you’ll live with us forever.” She left feathery-light kisses on his swollen eyes. “And then one day, many, many years from now, you’ll decide it’s the right time to move out and create your own family, and I’ll be inconsolable for days on end, and you’ll roll your eyes and call me dramatic, which in turn will make me cry even more, but deep down I’ll be happy and supportive of your next adventure, even though you won’t be able to tell at first as I’ll be trying to lock you in your room—”

Her son’s giggles were the best sound she’d ever heard.

“You can’t say that, mom!” He admonished, even though laughter still colored his tone.

She smiled, and caught Az’s gaze. The Spymaster’s own eyes were glassy from unshed tears. Yet even that wasn’t enough to conceal the love reflecting in them, the love for her and their son. He cleared his throat, once, twice, before he said, “Uri, the baby your mom is carrying will be your brother or sister, do you understand? We will love you the same. You’re as much our child as this one.” He pointed at Elain’s still flat belly.

Uri looked at her stomach for the first time for a long time. Then he nodded.

She was aware the issue wasn’t resolved just like that, that it would take some time for Uri to truly believe it. Still, she peppered his face until he was gasping for air.

When his giggles quieted down, when he was nestled between them in their bed – no way was he sleeping by himself tonight. His room was a mess, anyway. — his Illyrian stuffed toy in his embrace, Uri sighed. “I hope it’s a girl. I want a sister.”

Azriel and Elain looked at each other over him. Azriel inclined his head, a silent agreement. They fell asleep with their smiles plastered over their faces.

Uri grumbled when they told him he now had a brother. Over the past ten months, he’d tell everyone he met he was really excited to meet his new baby sister. No matter how many times his parents tried to prepare him from getting disappointed. He was dead set on getting a new baby sister.

And now he had a brother.

“Mom, it’s so unfair,” he whined now. “I wanted a sister.”

Elain had just given birth. She was tired and in pain, though the tonic Madja had given her subdued it. Yet she was the happiest she’d ever been. Uri was nestled against her side, her mate on the other, her new child suckling at her breast.

She’d dreamed of it as a girl. It’d seemed an impossible dream when she was thrown into the Cauldron, the months of depression and heartbreak that had followed it. Yet it was now before her eyes.

It was exactly as she’d envisioned it. Perhaps even better.

“I know, baby,” Az echoed his statement. “But we love him, right? We’ll protect him?”

Uri rolled his eyes. “Of course. He’s my little brother,” he said.

Elain smiled. “You better. He already loves you so much. He told me.” As though he had heard her, the baby blindly reached out his hand. It landed on Uri’s cheek, a light touch that one might have called a caress. Uri kissed his brother’s palm. “I love you, Adi. Please grow up quickly. I want to play with you.”

“He loves you, too, baby.” Azriel pressed a kiss against his two sons’ foreheads. “Plus, next time you might get a little sister.”

Uri’s eyes sparkled with mischief at that. Elain shook her head, her smile still shining on her face.

It took two more tries before Uri finally got his long-awaited sister. That day, his scream of joy could be heard from all over Prythian.

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel x elain archeron #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #pro elriel

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thefourchimes · 6 months ago

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encanto undertale au thoughts part 1 rahhhh

so, encanto undertale au, i've mentioned it already in this post before but it was very vague

so lets do our best to expand a bit more

though fair warning that it's been a while since i've touched undertale in its full, and even then, i was never fully aware of every single lore detail in undertale, so i may miss or be wrong about something, feel free to tell me though woooo

wait, help, i'm realizing that the two have opposite problems: undertale has so much lore that it takes a while to take in, even if some are up to interpretation because at least there's already a basis, while encanto has so little information to work with since the only concrete source we have is the movie, posts from the creator, some comics and books (the latter three not even being 100% sure either)

but anyway, i actually still dont have full thoughts besides the general vibes but onto the thoughts (warning, it's a long post):

i mentioned before that the grandkids will be falling down into the underground for this au

just to be clear though, i am really not sure how to deal with the huge gap between time periods (1950s for encanto and 211Xs for undertale) and i dont think im in the right mindset for that atm so i'll leave it vague, thank you AUSIFHASUF

not unless this will be encanto but modern, but that's still up in the air, and i'm hesitant on it too since i want both encanto and undertale to be as canon accurate as possible oof

though there is a possible way by focusing on how disconnected the encanto is to the outside world, but not really sure either

i am also not gonna be diving much into the setting and place of undertale, and just generally all the parts about both encanto and undertale that can be left up to interpretation unless it's completely necessary (i'll try another day, but just not now IUAFHUAHSF)

anyway, let's make things on both sides clear first before fusing them together

so for encanto, we'll have it set around the months of rebuilding casita, so that means no gifts, the movie besides the very end of all of you already happened, the family's issues are already brought into light but are not fully mended yet (since that takes a long time—plus more fuel to add into the fire for this au mwahahaha), and they can get out of the encanto

on undertale's side, we'll have it all be and set generally the same, keeping the general timeline of it for the sake of continuity, so the kids will fall the same sort of way and "time" frisk does in canon game

i was kinda imagining that the mountains the miracle created would be sort of connected to mt. ebott somehow? it's a thought but i'm unsure on the execution of it, just spit balling a bit here

then again, we don't know the magic's full origins so maybe that can be played around with, but still up in the air, really

even though im not sure of it yet, following the previous thought, it's been a couple of months since they started rebuilding casita, and the kids were taking a break from it to take their time to bond with one another (everyone in the family has been bonding with each other as much as they could when they weren't helping in the rebuild, and this was likely established after the fall since they're all trying to do better with each other)

they had decided to take a walk near the mountains, but rather than on the side of the encanto, they're on the outside, so they went through the crack the fall had made (they did this for the new scenery and exploration, plus they wanted to see the river, so yeah)

after a while of walking and conversation, they find a cave (you know the one)

from here, i'm not sure on how they'll be falling into the underground yet (other than that it will be chaotic but also likely angsty), but they will be falling in

so that will be the start of the journey and full crossover between the two

while the kids will be going through their journey in the underground, the adults and townspeople will be dealing with the kids' disappearance, but i'm not sure how long it will be

i know undertale canonically only took place in a day, but that was with frisk, and i'm not sure if that will be the same case with the madrigal grandkids

i still find it wild though that the entire game of undertale took place in only a day, it has the same vibes as "it only took days for casita to be rebuilt again" except the 1 day for undertale is canon, but i digress

the entire journey is still vibes, but i do imagine some thoughts, plot, and interactions that can and will probably happen in the au:

the kids not being surprised that there's magic (cause duh), but that there's more magic in the underground through the monsters

they're all gonna be in awe of all the magic they see too, considering the variety of it

though they will be missing their gifts more because of seeing all the magic around them

mirabel's definitely not gonna have her insecurities rearing its head again, oh definitely not— (welp, sorry mirabel)

them wondering about the colors of their souls, and how it doesn't fit their signature color help—

the kids thinking flowey was isabela's doing somehow lmao

they're all definitely getting whiplash on the violence that will happen with flowey, and eventually the rest of the underground

the older three, especially luisa, will immediately be taking up the protecting role though

isabela having a crisis because of flowey the psychotic flower, considering her gift (as non-existent as it is at this point in time)

they will not be understanding any game references here, nor the existence of the phone, not unless it's modern au, but again, still up in the air

antonio is gonna be having fun with all the animal-like monsters, and they can talk too, so it's like he still has his gift but his siblings and cousins can hear them too

luisa would be the one to push the rocks (including the talking rock) in the ruins since that's one of the things she had done when she had her gift

them being scared of napstablook at first because ghost but it will all be fine in the end

dolores and napstablook will likely bond through music later on too

toriel reminding them of julieta and her warmth and her cooking and baking

but when toriel is trying to stop them from leaving the ruins and is disappointed, she would probably remind them of abuela, which is fun lmao

each new terrain will leave them surprised and intrigued, especially for the ones they don't know about (like hotlands for example, i doubt they'd have encountered lava at any point in their 5-21 years alive, stuck inside the encanto—again, unless this is modern au)

huh, im kinda realizing that both the encanto and the underground are similar in the sense that both places are trapped and isolated (encanto with the mountains and undertale with the underground), leading the inhabitants to miss a lot of different things (undertale with the sky and stars, then encanto with the different terrains, and both with other people/humans)

sans and camilo are gonna get another prankster/jokester to work with here lol

i also feel like sans' laidback attitude will remind them of felix's own laidback attitude, along with how they both try to make everyone smile with jokes

papyrus trying to prove himself by joining the royal guard, along with his loneliness and want for friends, would definitely resonate with the kids, especially mirabel

also papyrus and agustin are similar in the sense that they're seen as innocent and clumsy respectively, but are actually really smart in their own ways, plus the feeling of wanting to belong is definitely shared by the two of them

not sure about the dating side quest with papyrus, but it will definitely be chaotic if it happens the way it happens

does the encanto have waterfalls anywhere? if not, then first time seeing a waterfall in...well, waterfall

isabela would probably wonder if she could make echo flowers, if she still had her gift (she wonders if she could have made so many of the plants they'll find in the underground)

meeting gaster would be fun, whether it be all of them or just one of them, though if it was the latter, i'm not sure who'd it be, though i'm imagining it to be dolores as of now

antonio cheering the snail on in naptsablook's snail game real

undyne would definitely terrify the kids at first

she's like a weather of chaos, whether it be through a rain of spears or rays of flames from a burning house, similar to pepa in that case

both are outgoing and outspoken, which definitely has the kids reminded of pepa

not fully sure yet but i feel like it will be one of the warm siblings who'll splash undyne with water when they reach hotlands

undyne (once she's not killing them lol) and the kids will be bonding through the cooking lessons, except we know how that ends

i imagine luisa and isa being the ones to take on undyne in both fight and bonding chaos sense ASHFUIAHSF

oh boy, alphys, this one's hard considering how modern things are at this point, even with her nerdiness and anime

but i do think the fact that alphys is hiding something will be noticed by the kids, considering how they were all hiding something for years before

also they'd be reminded of bruno considering alphys' similar vibes in a sense

especially with how they both ran away and hid from their problems (bruno to the walls and alphys to the true lab)

mettaton is fun, they'd probably appreciate him more as a performer if it wasn't for the fact that he was trying to kill them AIUSHFUIAS

ngl though, by hotlands going forward, it's gonna be hard imagining things since the kids will not know a lot of the modern stuff and tech here, but i guess we'll have to see how it goes

plus we can always play off the fact that the encanto is so disconnected from the outside world that they aren't aware of a lot of things, so yeah

but anyway, the core just being a maze will be fun, but whatever was going on with alphys here will be ringing alarm bells immediately

but mirabel will definitely be feeling for her here, considering she knows how it feels

mettaton's whole fight is just gonna have them be confused considering they never knew what tvs are and stuff (unless bruno shared more about the telenovelas he saw through his visions before they fell into the underground)

sans being serious in the judgement hall will give them whiplash lol

though in this sense, this probably emphasizes the similarity with felix in a way

asgore is very kind but is bound by his duty to his people, similar to alma in that case

and mirabel will likely be the one to realize that, as she knows and understands abuela's reasons in the fullest sense (i imagine the whole family got to talk about it already, but mirabel is the one with the emotional intelligence and empathy to notice how asgore is feeling, and also to make the sort of connection between abuela and asgore)

before i continue, all throughout, i realized how the madrigal adults and the ut characters are really similar in some ways to each other (whether personality, struggle, vibe, or others):

julieta = toriel

felix = sans

agustin = papyrus

pepa = undyne

bruno = alphys

alma = asgore

it's obviously not one to one, but the similarities are definitely going to be fun to notice, i think

i think asgore will be less "we'll take care of you and become a family" since they already have a family up top, and more "we'll help you figure something out so we can get out of here and you can go back to your family"

but of course flowey comes and ruins that

omega flowey is...a thing i don't even want to imagine, ngl, that's gonna be so brutal...

they'll beat him of course (with a ship's load worth of trauma as a gift) and they'll be out of the underground

but we know that's not gonna be the end, not yet

continuation in another post because i just hit word limit aaaa

part 2

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sonsofbal · 2 months ago

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V. The Mist Festival pt.2

During Morthal's Mist Festival, Alicent is torn between her budding feelings for Seth and her strained friendship with Joric. As the villagers make their offerings to Magnus for protection, tensions escalate and a sinister omen strikes, throwing the ceremony into uncertainty. With Seth's presence raising suspicions, Alicent begins to wonder if the gods are still watching over them, or if something darker is at play.

Morthal was divided into two parts by the Hjaal River. The villagers gathered to the east of the southern region, next to the house of Falion. It was his duty to preside over the ceremony as Court Wizard. The organizers had set up several rows of wooden benches. As the people took their seats, Falion finished preparing the torch to bless the fire.

By the time the ceremony was under way, night had fallen and the sky was aglow with stars. Alicent felt tiny as she looked up at the firmament; Maser and Secunda were shining overhead on this clear night, and the dawning light was the color of fireflies' thoraxes and butterflies' blue wings.

Looking out at his audience, Falion stood before the bonfire the guard had lit for the occasion. Behind him, willow branches swayed in the breeze, dropping leaves and creating meandering shadows in the air as the cold waters of the Hjaal returned flashes of light.

"Inhabitants of the Hjaalmarch, we gather for another year in commemoration of the deeds of Magnus, architect of Mundus." Phalion turned around in front of the fire. "MAGNUS!" he said, lighting the torch and raising both arms to the sky. “Hear our voice, for this day we commemorate your sacrifice, so that when the mists come and hide us from your eyes, you will remember us!".

Alicent felt sorry for Falion. The wizard was not a crowd person. She could almost feel his discomfort as he faced the audience again. He was a terrible speaker: he dropped his free arm to the side, where it would remain until the end of the monologue, and proceeded to recount for the umpteenth time the confrontation that Magnus and Molag Bal had had right there in the Shire of Hjaal, according to the legends.

Falion went on with the telling of the legend. The family of the Jarl took up the front row, and Alicent caught Joric looking in their direction. She was in the back row, next to Seth, and from there she had a good view of everyone. There were people she didn't know well, outsiders who only came to Morthal for supplies or, on days like this, Magnus' blessing.

Alicent's eyes searched for his mother and found her beside Thonnir. They've been spending a lot of time together lately, she thought, watching them lean in to exchange comments. Her attention shifted back to Seth; he seemed to be engrossed in the story Falion was telling.

"Molag Bal's roots in our realm run deep. When the lord of domination and slavery first set foot in these lands, Tamriel was young. It was on this occasion that the cruel Daedra taunted Arkay after the taking of the soul of Lamae Beolfag, the first daughter of the night.

Alicent leaned over to Seth.

"It's a reference to vampires. According to the stories, Lamae was living in this region at the time she met Molag Bal," she explained, trying her best to impress him.

"I've heard of that," he replied without looking at her. Still, Alicent appreciated that he managed to smile, amused.

"Not content with the transgression," Falion raised his voice, struggling to make himself heard over the murmuring of the people and the rushing of the river, "Molag Bal decided to outwit Arkay once more, twisting the magic of Tamriel to give his followers the power to kidnap the souls of those who died. The power to enslave them and thus prevent them from passing on to the afterlife.”

"Now he's talking about Necromancers," Alicent commented in a new attempt to get his attention. But Seth completely ignored her again.

Alicent let out a small sigh. She was beginning to wonder if she had done something wrong.

"You think anything he says is true?" Seth asked abruptly.

The question startled her. She had heard the story hundreds of times before, but she had never stopped to ask herself if there was any truth to it at all.

"Well... I don't know." She confessed.

"Come on, you must have an opinion about it. Do you think it is true?" Seth insisted. He leaned toward her without looking away from Falion.

Alicent shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so. I mean... If someone doesn't make their offerings, bad things happen."

This got the attention of Seth, who looked directly at her and turned his body in her direction. Alicent mimicked his pose as well.

"What sort of bad things?" asked Seth.

"Laelette didn't make her offerings last year." She whispered.

"It is my understanding that Laelette has left of her own free will," he replied.

Alicent searched the crowd again for his mother. When he found her, she stared at Thonnir and Virkmund, the young son the man had had with Laelette.

"Yeah, but... I dunno. It still feels strange.

Seth's face twisted. Suddenly, he seemed defensive.

"What's so strange about it?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know. It's strange, that's all," Alicent replied, feeling uncomfortable, "I find it hard to believe she would leave her son for a war she never mentioned. Plus, that's happened before..."

Alicent rubbed his shoulder uncomfortably. She looked away, her eyes misting over.

"Was it someone important to you?" Seth asked after a short silence, softening his tone.

"My father..." Alicent's voice cracked.

"Wow. I'm sorry I mentioned that," Seth said after a moment, sincerely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from the story."

"That's okay. I know this story by heart," she replied, tucking hair behind her ear.

Seth's gaze was on Falion for a moment before his attention returned to her.

"I'd rather hear it from you then."

That made Alicent smile a little.

"I don't know if that would be a good idea. I'm not a very good storyteller," she hesitated.

"Worse than Falion? I don't think so.”

Alicent looked down shyly, but a smile escaped her lips. Seth's hand caught her chin and forced her to raise it. He didn't have to say anything else, his smile and the way he looked at her encouraged Alicent to speak.

"Magnus did not like Molag Bal's use of magic, nor did he like the fact that he was challenging Arkay again, so he stepped into the body of one of his followers to confront him and his army. Though Magnus defeated him and banished him, Molag Bal managed to gouge out his eye during the battle. That is why the mist has covered Morthal for months. And that is why the flame of the torch is blessed today, so that it will see us today and protect us from his followers when the mist comes".

Seth remained thoughtful after hearing the story, his eyes fixed on the torch Falion held.

"I think I should do some more reading on the local legends," he turned his head back to her. "What would you recommend I read?"

Alicent nodded toward the Jarl's family and shook her head. Joric hurried to look forward.

"Ask Idgrod. She's the book person."

Seth nodded and looked forward again. Falion was just at the end of the story of the battle between Magnus and Molag Bal. It had been the end of a war, more than a battle. Alicent felt that she had not explained the events very well after listening to the wizard for a few minutes.

"Why is he looking at us like that?" Seth suddenly asked in a low voice.

Alicent followed his gaze and caught Joric looking in her direction once more. This time she noticed the look in his eyes. He seemed annoyed. Angry.

"Don't worry about Joric," Alicent murmured, in an attempt to play it down. "He's probably just wondering what we're talking about."

"When I first met him, he looked at me that way, too. I think he was upset that his mother suggested Idgrod and I might spend time together." He said matter-of-factly.

Alicent looked at him, startled.

"Oh," she murmured with poorly concealed disappointment. "I thought it was because of me. He seemed very angry when I told them about..."

Seth waited for her to continue, and Alicent blushed, aware that she had spoken out of turn.

"About me?" Seth asked, before he changed his tone of voice to a more light-hearted one. "I guess there are not too many strangers who come to this place."

"Not too many," Alicent confirmed, without taking her eyes off of the fire. "And you're the first who stays."

"It's not a bad place," he admitted. Alicent followed Seth's gaze. It was on her friend. "Perhaps I should take the jarl's suggestion into consideration."

"To spend time with Idgrod?" she asked, in dismay.

"To settle here. It doesn't have to be with Idgrod."

Alicent turned her head quickly in his direction and then jerked it back to the front at almost the same speed, as if she had done it by accident. At a loss for words, she pointed his chin in the direction of the campfire in an attempt to get Seth to turn his attention back to the ceremony.

Falion had already finished the tale, so he left the torch on a metal stand next to the table where he had everything ready for the preparation of the offerings of the people of Morthal. Falion placed a bowl and a candle on the table, lit the candle with the blessed flame from the torch, and poured a little melted wax into the bowl to stick the candle to the bowl.

"Magnus, today I light this candle in your name in prayer for your protection. And I offer this parchment to Julianos, that he may be my keeper when your eyes are not upon me."

Falion carefully placed the scroll in the bowl. With the sacrifice complete, he approached the Hjaal River. He bent down and placed the bowl in the water. The wizard's sacrifice began to drift slowly away from him, buffeted by the river.

The murmur of the people of the Shire rose a few notes, and as soon as the Earl stood up, many of them began to imitate her. The second to make the sacrifice was always Idgrod Ravencrone. Then each person in the county had to wait their turn for the sorcerer to prepare their offering and make their request to the Aedra.

“Do you think she likes me?” Seth asked out of the blue, innocently.

Alicent looked around to see who he was referring to. Alva was standing a few pews ahead. She said something to Benor and approached the offering table, around which a circle had already formed.

"Alva?" Seth nodded, and her brow furrowed. "You're too late. She's already with Benor."

Seth continued to look at Alva, and Alicent stomped a little, trying to get his attention back.

"You know?" she said in an attempt at a change of subject. "Mom says I'll inherit the Taumaturgist Hut. "

"Really?" Seth asked amused. "And are you going to give me a discount?"

"You might not even pay..."

She stopped looking at him in embarrassment when Seth burst out laughing. Apart from the two of them, there were only a couple of other couples sitting on the benches. Most of the neighbors were chatting animatedly around the fire, waiting for their turn to make offerings. Joric emerged from the crowd and made his way to where they were.

Alicent stood to greet her friend, taking the offering from his lap. Standing next to her, Seth did the same.

"Joric, have you made your offering?" asked Alicent, greeting Joric.

Joric glanced at Seth, then shook his head. He had a childish, shy, hopeful expression on his face. Joric's hair was a shade of ash brown, and though he always wore it short and messy, he had tried to comb it on this particular day.

"I was expecting that we could make our offerings together this year," he suggested, hope shining in his eyes.

Just like Seth, Alicent couldn't take her eyes off of him either. But not because Joric looked so beautiful, but because he looked as if a cow had licked the top of his head.

"Sure. Seth, would you like to join us?" She invited him, trying to shyly comb her hair with her fingers, wondering if she looked ridiculous to him, too.

"I was talking about us. You and me," Joric emphasized. "I don't want to have to make my annual offerings with a stranger."

"Oh, come on now, Joric. Don't be mean." She protested, holding out her hand to Seth. "Join us..." she asked.

This brought a smile to the boy who took her hand. The three approached the offering area. There were quite a few people scattered around the area, although most of them were huddled around the table. The three teenagers moved away from the group after realizing that they would have to wait quite a while for their turn.

"What did you think of Falion's speech?" was Joric's question.

Alicent noticed a certain amount of resentment in the question and frowned.

"I don't know. It was fine... like every year."

Joric's lip curled into a pucker. It was clear he was angry.

"Really? Did you really listen to anything? Because I saw the two of you talking the whole time."

Being addressed like that in front of Seth annoyed her. Alicent opened her mouth to speak, but Seth was quicker than her.

"Alice has been explaining your customs to me. It's good to have someone here who has an education," he reproached coolly.

The reply hit Joric like a bucket of cold water. He glared defiantly at Seth and clenched his fists.

"Do you have a problem with me, Athan?" he asked.

Seth put a hand on top of his head and reached out with his fingers to massage his temples. Alicent sensed an irritated smile behind his hand. He let out a sigh and then stared out into the crowd. Alicent followed where he looked, stopping to look at the torch. The breeze had been on the rise and was rippling the flame. From time to time, Falion raised his arm to light a candle to add to another offering.

"Me?" Seth snapped back, suddenly determined to have a confrontation with Joric. "It seems you're the one with the problem. If you want to talk about it privately..." He challenged.

Joric furrowed his brow and looked at Alicent. She raised her arms in a denial, but Joric stuck out his chest and turned to face Seth.

"Gladly, Athan. Follow me."

Joric walked along the river, in search of the rocks and bushes that would hide them from the rest of the group. As she tried to talk some sense into them, Seth followed.

"Guys, don't be stupid. It's a party, there's no reason to fight." Alicent was on their heels, her attempts at dissuasion in vain.

"What's your problem, Imberbe Raven?" began Seth as soon as they were far enough away.

Alicent could imagine Joric's cheeks flushing at the comment, despite the darkness.

"What did you just call me, Athan?" he asked, closing the distance between them in such a shrill tone that Alicent felt as if he was going to strike Seth.

A white, glowing energy burst out of Seth's fingers and wrapped itself around his hands.

"Joric, stop..." Alicent demanded, trying to get between the two of them so she could face her friend. But Joric gently pushed her away so he could face Seth once more.

"You are my problem, Athan. I don't like you."

Seth raised his eyebrows.

He said: "I didn't do anything to you, kid. That's your problem, not mine, if you can't handle your jealousy."

Joric's aggressiveness did not seem to intimidate Seth at all. Preparing to intervene if necessary, Alicent held her breath. Luckily, Joric just grimaced.

"You have a false look to me, Athan. I don't like the way you look, or the way you talk, or the way you act. And I don't like the way you hang around with Alicent all the time, either," he spat before spitting in front of Seth's feet.

Seth's reaction was a pout of disgust.

"How vulgar," Seth merely commented, with as much contempt as coldness in his voice. "Is that how Earl Idgrod raises his kids?"

"In Morthal, we have Morthal ways. We don't need some hairdo from the city to tell us how to behave!" exclaimed Joric like a spring.

"Think twice before talking about hairstyles, kid."

Joric looked at Alicent, looking for support, but she was slow to react, hiding a nervous laugh after Seth's last comment.

“Boys," she interrupted, wanting to keep things from escalating any further, "We should come back. There's no need to…”

Suddenly, interrupting her words and frightening her, the wind roared over their heads. Though there was a glow of fire behind the rocks that served as a windbreak, only the fire of the torch was blessed. The flowers in her hands were a reminder to Alicent that she had not yet made her offering.

"We definitely ought to..."

"Maybe it was a mistake to come, Alicent." Seth cut her off. "It's clear I'm spoiling some people's party."

Seth's words hit her like arrows in the chest. Because of this stupid fight, he didn't enjoy the festival at all and he wanted to leave. Seth was on his way out, but Alicent grabbed his arm.

"I'm not going to let you go because of Joric."

"I don't understand why you are on his side," Joric complained in frustration.

"Because, unlike you, Seth has shown a respect for our traditions. And you... You're acting out of jealousy." She accused Joric. Alicent didn't even think about how her friend felt because she was so angry with him.

Joric looked at her, hurt. He let out a dejected sigh.

"Do what you want, Alicent." He kicked over a stone and started to walk away from them.

"Thank you," Seth said, whispering.

Alicent smiled and looked into his eyes, where she was once again in the grip of his gaze. Seth released her hand and slowly brought it closer to his face, an intimate atmosphere suddenly created between them. He was on the verge of touching her cheek when he heard Idgrod's voice in the distance, interrupting the moment.

“JORIC!”

The sound of the scream was just like all the times Idgrod had seen Joric on the verge of injury. Alicent's eyes were on the lookout for Joric, who was already on his way back to the party. Joric approached his sister and they began to talk. Not long after, he turned to Alicent in alarm. To hurry her along, he raised both arms and waved them in the air.

Alicent crossed the path of the river bank at a fast pace until she reached the two of them. She saw that Falion was not alone in preparing the sacrifices as she peered over the rocks. The neighbors were hurrying to make their own sacrifices. They could see that the torch fire was dying with every shift of the wind. Alicent and Joric looked at each other, panicked.

The two ran. Joric was picking up two bowls when Alicent reached the table. The wind blew another backhand, and the torch went out over their heads, leaving the two of them in complete silence. Them and everyone else there.

A louder and louder whisper spread along the banks of the Hjaal. Finally, Brelas, a dark elf who lives in a hut northwest of Skyrim, said out loud what everyone was thinking.

"This must be a bad omen for us."

Brelas was standing at the table and had not yet made his offerings, either. Alicent dropped her flowers, discouraged. Then fear gripped her. She was not the only one; there were a number of voices, and she could even hear a few tears.

Just in time to see him run towards Seth, she glanced over to Joric after remembering that he hadn't done it either.

"This is your fault, Athan." He accused.

Seth, who had been walking calmly in their direction, stopped in his tracks and crossed his arms over his chest. When Joric reached him, he shoved him, making him stumble. Seth stumbled and regained his footing with no pretense of self-defense.

"Me? It was you who started the fight."

Idgrod quickened her pace with Alicent at her heels. She stepped between them.

"Leave it, Joric!" She ordered. "Mom wants to see you."

"She's going to kill me," Joric cursed, running a hand through his hair.

Joric turned his back on them and walked away, and Idgrod gave him a farewell glance before following him. Up until that moment, Alicent hadn't even noticed that the people were looking at them. As she listened to the whispers, she understood why.

"It can't be a coincidence that the boy arrives first and then the torch goes out," Uthna commented to her husband Hroggar.

She turned to Seth, worried about how he was going to take this, and was surprised to find that he was looking elsewhere. She followed his gaze and found that Falion's gaze was on him, heavy with doubt. Alicent pretended not to notice when Seth turned his eyes back to her.

"Are you feeling all right?" Seth asked, his head cocked sideways. "You seem worried."

"I..." she murmured with slumped shoulders and a few tears in her eyes, "My offering..."

"It was my fault." Seth said regretfully. He grabbed her shoulder, pulled her to his body and hugged her. "I'm so sorry. I promise I won't let anything harm you."

In any other situation, that would have cheered her up. But the fear was so intense that she couldn't bring herself to look up. She didn't want him to see her crying like that. Then she heard the worried voice of her own mother behind her back.

"Alicent, my child, please tell me that you have made your offering."

#skyrim #tes art #dark fantasy #dark romance #fanfic #magic #morthal #the elder scrolls #tes #daedric lords #molag bal #aedra #tesblr

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istumpysk · 2 years ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Tyrion XI (Chapter 57)

The healer entered the tent murmuring pleasantries, but one sniff of the foul air and a glance at Yezzan zo Qaggaz put an end to that. "The pale mare," the man told Sweets.

What a surprise, Tyrion thought. Who could have guessed? Aside from any man with a nose and me with half of one. Yezzan was burning with fever, squirming fitfully in a pool of his own excrement. His shit had turned to brown slime streaked with blood … and it fell to Yollo and Penny to wipe his yellow bottom clean. Even with assistance, their master could not lift his own weight; it took all his failing strength to roll onto one side.

"My arts will not avail here," the healer announced. "The noble Yezzan's life is in the hands of the gods. Keep him cool if you can. Some say that helps. Bring him water." Those afflicted by the pale mare were always thirsty, drinking gallons between their shits. "Clean fresh water, as much as he will drink."

"Not river water," said Sweets.

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up she was shitting brown water. The more she drank, the more she shat, but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew, and her thirst sent her crawling to the stream to suck up more water. - Daenerys X, ADWD

+.+.+

Poor old Yezzan. The lord of suet was not so bad as masters went. Sweets had been right about that. Serving at his nightly banquets, Tyrion had soon learned that Yezzan stood foremost amongst those Yunkish lords who favored honoring the peace with Meereen. Most of the others were only biding their time, waiting for the armies of Volantis to arrive. A few wanted to assault the city immediately, lest the Volantenes rob them of their glory and the best part of the plunder. Yezzan would have no part of that. Nor would he consent to returning Meereen's hostages by way of trebuchet, as the sellsword Bloodbeard had proposed.

"No. Have the Yunkishmen chosen a new commander?"

"The council of masters has been unable to agree. Yezzan zo Qaggaz had the most support, but now he's died as well. - The Spurned Suitor, ADWD

The situation is bleak but salvageable. Yezzan might be gone, but there are still other lords who wish to honor the peace.

Unfortunately Barristan the Boob is going to arrest the one man who can save the situation.

+.+.+

"Some masters free their slaves when they die," said Penny.

Sweets tittered. It was a ghastly sound. "Only favorites. They free them from the woes of the world, to accompany their beloved master to the grave and serve him in the afterlife."

Oh good, Barry's already got his next job lined up.

+.+.+

The goat boy spoke up. "The silver queen—"

"—is dead," insisted Sweets. "Forget her! The dragon took her across the river. She's drowned in that Dothraki sea."

"You can't drown in grass," the goat boy said.

Should we consider Daenerys X her second rebirth on that Dothraki sea? Her final form. Lol.

She talks of prophecies . . . a hero reborn in the sea, living dragons hatched from dead stone - Davos V, ASOS

The frightened child who sheltered in my manse died on the Dothraki sea, and was reborn in blood and fire. - Tyrion II, ADWD

Thank you, @decadelongsummer!

+.+.+

"It was just a wish," said Penny wistfully. "We could sail away. There are ships again, now that the war is over."

Is it? Tyrion was inclined to doubt that. Parchments had been signed, but wars were not fought on parchments.

He should know better.

Some battles are won with swords and spears, others with quills and ravens. - Tyrion I, ASOS

Right idea, wrong execution from Tywin. Bran will show them both.

+.+.+

Sweets dabbed at Yezzan's fevered face with a damp cloth. "Yezzan must live. Or we all die with him. The pale mare does not carry off every rider. The master will recover."

Not everyone dies from the pale mare. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Some people only lose their minds in the middle of the Dothraki Sea.

+.+.+

When men are dying every hour, no one looks too hard at one more dead man, especially one as well despised as Nurse. Yezzan's other slaves had refused to go near the overseer once the cramps began, so it was left to Tyrion to keep him warm and bring him drinks. Watered wine and lemonsweet and some nice hot dogtail soup, with slivers of mushroom in the broth. Drink it down, Nursey, that shitwater squirting from your arse needs to be replaced. The last word Nurse ever said was, "No." The last words he ever heard were, "A Lannister always pays his debts."

Don't mind Tyrion, he's just casually murdering someone who was already going to die.

Somehow I doubt George introduced those mushrooms to the story to kill Yezzan's overseer.

+.+.+

He waddled toward them. "Scar," he barked out, "the noble Yezzan has need of fresh, clean water. Take two men and bring back as many pails as you can carry. And be quick about it."

The soldiers broke off their game. Scar rose to his feet, brow beetling. "What did you say, dwarf? Who do you think you are?"

"You know who I am. Yollo. One of our lord's treasures. Now do as I told you."

The soldiers laughed. "Go on, Scar," one mocked, "and be quick about it. Yezzan's monkey gave you a command."

Tyrion hasn't lost his mind. He wants the soldier to send him to get the water.

Remember how George managed to include a bear in every ASOS chapter? This is kind of like that, except all the monkeys are probably Tyrion.

<- The Iron Suitor (Victarion I)

The monkeys, though … the monkeys were a plague. Victarion had forbidden his men to bring any of the demonic creatures aboard ship, yet somehow half his fleet was now infested with them, even his own Iron Victory. He could see some now, swinging from spar to spar and ship to ship. Would that I had a crossbow.

+.+.+

"Bring the pails," Tyrion told Penny. He went off with the man Morgo to fetch Ser Jorah Mormont from his cage.

The knight had not adapted well to bondage. When called upon to play the bear and carry off the maiden fair, he had been sullen and uncooperative, shuffling lifelessly through his paces when he deigned to take part in their mummery at all. Though he had not attempted escape, nor offered violence to his captors, he would ignore their commands oft as not or reply with muttered curses. None of this had amused Nurse, who made his displeasure clear by confining Mormont in an iron cage and having him beaten every evening as the sun sank into Slaver's Bay. The knight absorbed the beatings silently; the only sounds were the muttered curses of the slaves who beat him and the dull thuds of their clubs pounding against Ser Jorah's bruised and battered flesh.

+.+.+

Wearing a collar conferred certain advantages, particularly a gilded collar inscribed with the name of Yezzan zo Qaggaz. The chime of those little bells proclaimed their value to anyone with ears. A slave was only as important as his master; Yezzan was the richest man in the Yellow City and had brought six hundred slave soldiers to the war, even if he did look like a monstrous yellow slug and smell of piss. Their collars gave them leave to go anywhere they might wish within the camp.

Is that a Jabba the Hutt reference?

+.+.+

Elsewhere teams of slaves were raising ramps of stone and sand beneath their mangonels and scorpions, angling them upward at the sky, the better to defend the camp should the black dragon return. It made the dwarf smile to see them sweating and cursing as they wrestled the heavy machines onto the inclines. Crossbows were much in evidence as well. Every other man seemed to be clutching one, with a quiverfull of bolts hanging from his hip.

If anyone had thought to ask him, Tyrion could have told them not to bother. Unless one of those long iron scorpion bolts chanced to find an eye, the queen's pet monster was not like to be brought down by such toys. Dragons are not so easy to kill as that. Tickle him with these and you'll only make him angry.

The eyes were where a dragon was most vulnerable. The eyes, and the brain behind them. Not the underbelly, as certain old tales would have it. The scales there were just as tough as those along a dragon's back and flanks. And not down the gullet either. That was madness. These would-be dragonslayers might as well try to quench a fire with a spear thrust. "Death comes out of the dragon's mouth," Septon Barth had written in his Unnatural History, "but death does not go in that way."

Apparently the bookworm also forgot about House Uller.

In all fairness to him Meraxes was struck in the eye.

"It is said that the Yunkai'i have ringed the city all about with scorpions, to loose iron bolts into the sky should Drogon return."

Ser Barristan had heard that too. "It is no simple thing to slay a dragon in the sky. In Westeros, many tried to bring down Aegon and his sisters. None succeeded." - The Queensguard, ADWD

Two people from Team Daenerys claim a scorpion can't take down a dragon, which guarantees a scorpion will take down a dragon.

A man wounded Drogon with a spear, and crossbows tore through the membranes of his wings, so I don't know what the hell this whole eye business is about.

I imagine someone is going to attempt to stab a dragon in the eye.

+.+.+

To the naked eye the Ghiscari looked more formidable than the Yunkish slave soldiers, but Tyrion nursed doubts. The legionaries might be armed and organized in the same manner as Unsullied … but the eunuchs knew no other life, whereas the Ghiscari were free citizens who served for three-year terms.

In case it wasn't clear, Daenerys will stomp.

+.+.+

There were only a handful of wells within a day's march of Meereen, so the wait was always long. Most of the Yunkish host drew their drinking water from the Skahazadhan, which Tyrion had known was a very bad idea even before the healer's warning. The clever ones took care to stay upstream of the latrines, but they were still downstream of the city.

The fact that there were any good wells at all within a day's march of the city only went to prove that Daenerys Targaryen was still an innocent where siegecraft was concerned. She should have poisoned every well. Then all the Yunkishmen would be drinking from the river. See how long their siege lasts then. That was what his lord father would have done, Tyrion did not doubt.

Nobody is better at weaponizing a water system than Tyrion Lannister.

So to mark his manhood, Tyrion was given charge of all the drains and cisterns within Casterly Rock. - Tyrion III, ADWD

"I once had charge of all the drains in Casterly Rock," Tyrion said mildly. - Tyrion XII, ADWD

+.+.+

There was no better place to hear the latest news and rumors than around the well.

[...]

"The queen climbed onto the dragon's back and flew away," insisted a tall brown woman.

"She tried," said the old man, "but she couldn't hold on. The crossbows wounded the dragon, and the queen was struck right between her sweet pink teats, I hear. That was when she fell. She died in the gutter, crushed beneath a wagon's wheels. I know a girl who knows a man who saw her die."

I strongly believe this will not be the last time there's debate over how Daenerys Targaryen died.

Early the next morning, he was found dead on the throne, his robes sodden with blood, his arms slashed open by the barbs of the Iron Throne.

Thus ended Maegor the Cruel. How he came to die is a matter of much speculation. Though the singers would have us believe that the Iron Throne itself killed him, some suspect his Kingsguard, and others some mason whom the king had failed to kill and who knew the secrets of the Red Keep. But perhaps even likelier is the suggestion that the king killed himself rather than suffer defeat. Whatever the truth, it was a reign that ended in the only way it could after the six years of terror that Maegor had visited upon the realm. But his nephew's reign would do much to mend the deep wounds he had made in the Seven Kingdoms. - The World of Ice and Fire

+.+.+

Laughter erupted all around them. Even the old man joined in. "You saw her, then," said the redheaded boy behind them. "You saw the queen. Is she as beautiful as they say?"

I saw a slender girl with silvery hair wrapped in a tokar, he might have told them. Her face was veiled, and I never got close enough for a good look. I was riding on a pig. Daenerys Targaryen had been seated in the owner's box beside her Ghiscari king, but Tyrion's eyes had been drawn to the knight in the white-and-gold armor behind her. Though his features were concealed, the dwarf would have known Barristan Selmy anywhere. Illyrio was right about that much, at least, he remembered thinking. Will Selmy know me, though? And what will he do if he does?

Let you ruin her.

Someone who grew up with Cersei Lannister is not going to be enamored by Daenerys's beauty.

+.+.+

Selmy had never approved of Jaime's presence in his precious Kingsguard. Before the rebellion, the old knight thought him too young and untried; afterward, he had been known to say that the Kingslayer should exchange that white cloak for a black one. And his own crimes were worse. Jaime had killed a madman. Tyrion had put a quarrel through the groin of his own sire, a man Ser Barristan had known and served for years. He might have chanced it all the same, but then Penny had landed a blow on his shield and the moment was gone, never to return.

Barristan Selmy, Jorah Mormont, and Tyrion Lannister all hate each other. Add a Greyjoy, some sellsword captains, and a red priest and you have a terribly dysfunctional group of advisers.

+.+.+

"Ghazdor's collar," the old man boasted. "Known him since we was born. I'm almost like a brother to him. Slaves like you, sweepings out of Astapor and Yunkai, you whine about being free, but I wouldn't give the dragon queen my collar if she offered to suck my cock for it. Man has the right master, that's better."

Tyrion did not dispute him. The most insidious thing about bondage was how easy it was to grow accustomed to it.

+.+.+

The life of most slaves was not all that different from the life of a serving man at Casterly Rock, it seemed to him. True, some slaveowners and their overseers were brutal and cruel, but the same was true of some Westerosi lords and their stewards and bailiffs. Most of the Yunkai'i treated their chattels decently enough, so long as they did their jobs and caused no trouble … and this old man in his rusted collar, with his fierce loyalty to Lord Wobblecheeks, his owner, was not at all atypical.

+.+.+

Tyrion set the pails of water on the ground, grateful for the halt. His legs were cramping badly, so he found himself a likely rock and sat on it to rub his thighs.

"I could do that for you," offered Penny.

"I know where the knots are." As fond as he had grown of the girl, it still made him uncomfortable when she touched him.

Ask yourself why Tyrion doesn't want to be touched by Penny.

It's not her age, I can promise you that.

+.+.+

He turned to Ser Jorah. "A few more beatings and you'll be uglier than I am, Mormont. Tell me, is there any fight left in you?"

Boy, I can't help but notice the author keeps going back to this.

"The girl finally poked her nose abovedecks," Tyrion told him. "One look at me and she scurried right back down below."

"You're not a pretty sight."

"Not all of us can be as comely as you. - Tyrion VIII, ADWD

Not yet.

↓

A few more beatings and you'll be uglier than I am, Mormont.

Almost there.

↓

Ser Jorah had never been what one might call a comely man. The brand had transformed his face into something frightening.

Tyrion grinned. "As long as I look prettier than you, I will be happy." - Tyrion XII, ADWD

We made it!

↓

Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow. - Daenerys II, ASOS

Same monkey I've seen before!

It was Lemore who forced the water from your lungs after Griff had pulled you up. You were as cold as ice, and your lips were blue. Yandry said we ought to throw you back, but the lad forbade it. - Tyrion VI, ADWD

↓

Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

+.+.+

Sometimes he envied the girl all her pretty little dreams. She reminded him of Sansa Stark, the child bride he had wed and lost. Despite the horrors Penny had suffered, she remained somehow trusting. She should know better. She is older than Sansa. And she's a dwarf. She acts as if she has forgotten that, as if she were highborn and fair to look upon, instead of a slave in a grotesquerie. At night Tyrion would oft hear her praying. A waste of words. If there are gods to listen, they are monstrous gods who torment us for their sport. Who else would make a world like this, so full of bondage, blood, and pain? Who else would shape us as they have? Sometimes he wanted to slap her, shake her, scream at her, anything to wake her from her dreams. No one is going to save us, he wanted to scream at her. The worst is yet to come. Yet somehow he could never say the words. Instead of giving her a good hard crack across that ugly face of hers to knock the blinders from her eyes, he would find himself squeezing her shoulder or giving her a hug. Every touch a lie. I have paid her so much false coin that she half thinks she's rich.

Fuck yourself.

There's a lot to unpack here, but I don't have the patience or desire.

+.+.+

He had even kept the truth of Daznak's Pit from her.

Lions. They were going to set lions on us. It would have been exquisitely ironic, that. Perhaps he would have had time for a short, bitter chortle before being torn apart.

We are owed an ironic Tyrion death!

The author can't forget. He mustn't.

+.+.+

"Those are the tents we want, there."

"The Second Sons?" A queer smile split Ser Jorah's face. "If you think to find help there, you don't know Brown Ben Plumm."

"Oh, I do. Plumm and I have played five games of cyvasse. Brown Ben is shrewd, tenacious, not unintelligent … but wary. He likes to let his opponent take the risks whilst he sits back and keeps his options open, reacting to the battle as it takes shape."

Tyrion will end up promising Ben Plumm the world, making it likely that Tyrion will have to convince Daenerys to let the Second Sons return to her service.

That will be his first blunder as her adviser.

+.+.+

"A runaway slave is what I see. Three runaway slaves. Whose collar?"

"The Yellow Whale's." That from a third man, drawn by their voices—a skinny stubble-jawed piece of work with teeth stained red from sourleaf. A serjeant, Tyrion knew, from the way the other two deferred to him. He had a hook where his right hand should have been. Bronn's meaner bastard shadow, or I'm Baelor the Beloved. "These are the dwarfs Ben tried to buy," the serjeant told the spearmen, squinting, "but the big one … best bring him too. All three."

Rest in peace, Bronn's meaner bastard shadow.

+.+.+

"Come for another game of cyvasse, Yollo?"

"If you wish. I do enjoy defeating you. I hear you're twice a turncloak, Plumm. A man after mine own heart."

Oh, Daenerys. You silly stupid girl.

+.+.+

Brown Ben's smile never reached his eyes. He studied Tyrion as a man might study a talking snake.

Once again highlighting Daenerys was easily fooled by the man.

Dany tried to speak and found no words. She remembered Ben's face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted. - Daenerys VI, ADWD

Poor thing. Not everyone can be perceptive.

He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. - Sansa II, AGOT

"How . . . dutiful." Littlefinger smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes. - Alayne I, AFFC

"Oh, I think you do," said Littlefinger, with one of those smiles that did not reach his eyes. - Alayne I, TWOW

+.+.+

"I know you as well, my lord," said Tyrion. "You're less purple and more brown than the Plumms at home, but unless your name's a lie, you're a westerman, by blood if not by birth. House Plumm is sworn to Casterly Rock, and as it happens I know a bit of its history. Your branch sprouted from a stone spit across the narrow sea, no doubt. A younger son of Viserys Plumm, I'd wager. The queen's dragons were fond of you, were they not?"

That seemed to amuse the sellsword. "Who told you that?"

"No one. Most of the stories you hear about dragons are fodder for fools. Talking dragons, dragons hoarding gold and gems, dragons with four legs and bellies big as elephants, dragons riddling with sphinxes … nonsense, all of it. But there are truths in the old books as well. Not only do I know that the queen's dragons took to you, but I know why."

"My mother said my father had a drop of dragon blood."

"Two drops. That, or a cock six feet long. You know that tale? I do.

Tyrion pretending dragons liking Valyrian blood is a secret only he knows.

Ossifer Plumm married Elaena Targaryen, but died while consummating the marriage. Somehow she still had a child nine months later. Many believe Aegon the Unworthy was the real father. Two drops.

Not sure how many dragons will be left by the time Daenerys parleys with Jon at the Trident, but I'm going to assume he'll have to pass the dragon test before she believes Rhaegar was his father.

Most of the stories you hear about dragons are fodder for fools. Talking dragons, dragons hoarding gold and gems, dragons with four legs and bellies big as elephants, dragons riddling with sphinxes … nonsense, all of it.

Most of these are common fantasy tropes.

Dragons riddling with sphinxes is not.

He said the sphinx was the riddle, not the riddler, whatever that meant. - Samwell IV, AFFC

No closer to figuring that one out.

+.+.+

Tyrion cleared his throat. "You can talk of old times later … after I am done explaining why my head would be of more use to you upon my shoulders. You will find, Lord Plumm, that I can be very generous to my friends. If you doubt me, ask Bronn. Ask Shagga, son of Dolf. Ask Timett, son of Timett."

"And who would they be?" asked the man called Inkpots.

"Good men who pledged me their swords and prospered greatly by that service." He shrugged. "Oh, very well, I lied about the 'good' part. They're bloodthirsty bastards, like you lot."

"Might be," said Brown Ben. "Or might be you just made up some names. Shagga, did you say? Is that a woman's name?"

"His teats are big enough. Next time we meet I'll peek beneath his breeches to be sure. Is that a cyvasse set over there? Bring it out and we'll have that game. But first, I think, a cup of wine. My throat is dry as an old bone, and I can see that I have a deal of talking to do."

What is he even talking about?

It was Tywin who knighted Bronn, and Cersei who arranged his marriage to Lollys Stokeworth.

The mountains clans are still in the mountains.

Final thoughts:

There's only one more Tyrion chapter in this book. :D

Today I learned Preston Jacobs theorized that Penny is still working for Littlefinger, and her objective is to kill Tyrion or the dragons. Lol

46 down, 3 to go. :(

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #tyrion xi

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luvpogl-music · 2 years ago

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[And so devil's of delight of the night, let's take some time to see if we can leave Noir in a beat of peace as we bring these short pages of story to some sort of close before resting a while in summer sun].

Now for Noirs part, from all outward appearances things were going great. As the success and connections grew bigger and bigger it got easier accepting that not so good feeling one gets when they find themselves thrust into life so young. Learning to accept that it was just how business is done. Even more assured by some around her that encouraged deceits, for so long had love been anything exciting to talk or discuss in the world; the only way the money would come is to make sport of it having fun with anyone who still thinks that it could exist. Sure their were rules, which make it easier to justify in self-righteous eye. Exposed to people who believe that their bank account made them God and to prove it they'd shower down gifts and trinkets of insignificance to crowds and with laughter sit back as the pigeons scurried across the ground to pick them up, like pieces of bread tossed in the grass. A practice only confirmed by the praise pride demands when it forces one to praise the good works done.

Not all around her were like that, for she was also blessed to see a vast majority of people who genuinely cared for the work and tidings they'd give. People who's gifts from the heart really did make a difference never demanding a thing, sitting back silently wrapped in the joy of just being able to do it. And while both sides of the hourglass were given to her that she may see she found herself more and more struggling with the God she'd known from her childhood as life kept leaving the bigger questions she asked unanswered.

And then one day, one day a package arrived. She hadn't seen anything like it in years to her disbelief. Taken back again her heart began to sink, for all those thoughts the evil around her had worked so hard to accept as reality were in question again. In sense a new river flowed in trying to wash her heart. And then after a bit longer, another one did arrive, this one just as curious as the last and while he heart and mind were taken away; the other part of her snapped back. Assured by all that surrounded her that it couldn't be, that in fact it was much worse than she'd thought; it was, what people in her work feared most of all.

She battled their doubts with questions of great range and power, many they could not answer with honest guess. They then brought in their officials and highly educated who are experts in such things, to only confirm what they believed. She read and read them again, certain she hadn't misunderstood, but they all proved to her just how wrong she was and best if she would flee. In that flight they could work more tricks if misconception and ill-conceive notion only to confirm what they wanted to prove against her thoughts. And so the girl Noir disappeared in fear, far from sight. And in the course of the curse they were all sure did await she pulled from her sleeve power she wanted never to use against anyone, but one thing was clear from all the experts and friends, that she had no choice but to do it, for even those most knowledgeable among them with witchcraft agreed and encouraged their assessment of those marked packages.

And as more and more came it only confirmed their conjures of confection trying everything to force from her the last piece of God. But they had missed one particular thought, when she said stop, they all stopped; certainly only God could have known or done that. This angered the crowed around her further as they were closer than ever to gaining full control of her, and with the shine of truth again on her path, the devil would roar hire and hire sinking to new depths in his rumblings of men all to ensure that Noir would forever be part of his family. Securing another spot in the devil's wall of fame, claiming the mark of greatness in history for another family's name.

And after some time Noir began to carry on again, picking up where she'd left off, throwing back stronger and more powerful magic then she'd ever used before. Telling herself she'd see just which is right, and the more fire she hurled and magic that turned to greater heights the devil took her still further away. You see many of the mysteries of the Jews had been construed and perverted by many of those around who claimed to behold of it's beauty and truth; she had never seen just how sick some of those other tribe members would get just praying to claim victory over defeat in a battle that was only ever inside just themselves, to blind and angry with life to focus on them, only seeking to steal oil from the lamps of those who can see.

[And so that shall leave you well enough my friends to Noir's end. She is stuck casting and fighting back the evil that abounds her in her final breath of belief. Holding on to what truth she has left; part of her starting to accept that gifts are just tricks anyone can do. As for me my friends I am not sure if I will pick this up any more, as there is much more I could and do have to write, but as for now with all those handcuffs of life bogging me down it makes the obligation uncertain - as I sit staring at approximately eleven thumdrives and cards now seemingly rendered useless, loss of works started unable to work on, some dating back to a time when orange string shoes were all I had for bindings. Papers shuffled about, some taken for other's use, and a plethora of phone and internet problems I was told nothing can be done about, but like Noir, I refuse to believe that - and so those things must command a bit more of my time - Rest Easy You Masters of Beasts #luvpogl]

#luvpogl #music #love #poglwrites #storytelling

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muiiruii · 3 years ago

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sunshowers in the summer

mikey ; draken ; mitsuya ; kazutora

fluff ; age up (manga version) ; abstract ; love found in unexpected moments

— mikey gazed at the scenery rise and fall, his eyes lazily tracing over the different shapes of clouds dotted along the blue sky. he wondered why you insisted on pushing him when it felt like you wanted to be the one sitting on the swing. with his hands clasped loosely on the chains, for a brief a moment, mikey wondered if he should just let go. would he fly? how would that feel? he got curious. the urge to jump was like waves retreating before a tsunami. yet, before he could fully submerge himself into the free-fall of his own pleasure, the sudden light drizzle that came upon him seemed to hush up his thoughts. your firm grip on his shoulders put a halt to his momentum, his feet creating friction with the ground. “what’s wrong, mikey?” you had your hands cupped his soft cheeks, tilting his head up to look at you. it was then he realized, your hair was wet. your fringe leaving droplets of rain landing on his forehead, and although he hated the sun and its warm rays, it didn’t feel so bad with you by his side. perhaps, just like this sunshower, even a little passing rain could feel nice once in a while. a tiny smile was barely visible before he reached a hand out to the back of your neck. “nothing.” he mumbled, watching your eyes widen in surprise at the fleeting kiss he placed on your lips. maybe that curiosity of his could wait, for all he wants now is to have you occupy every inch of his mind. from your dimples to your crescent hues, the growing redness on the tip of your ears will always be his favorite. “shall we continue?”

— draken chuckled at another one of your failed attempt. it wasn’t like you to not ask for his help when it comes to wasting money on such games, perhaps this time you really wanted to win it yourself. “do you want me to help?” he noticed the angry pout hanging on your lips, pleading eyes finally darting over to him. with confidence laced in his words, he shot down the tiny piece of bottle cap with ease. “what did i say? aren’t i the best?” you snorted, taking the biggest teddy bear in your arms with a grin. “yes baby, the one and only.” he laughed, fingers almost pinching those soft cheeks of yours when he felt tiny droplets of rain against his skin. quickly, he lead you towards a nearby pavilion to take shelter. it wasn’t until you suddenly stop in your track did he turned to face you. the way your eyes sparkled mischievously did not go unnoticed by him when your innocent smile spread across your lips. with a hard push, he stumbled back a few steps as you ran away. “tag, you’re it!” you giggled when you caught a glimpse of surprise on his face. oh how surprised he was when you pulled such a stunt. not like he wasn’t used to it, but for once, he couldn’t help but laugh in amusement. you really do know how to bring different sides of him out. and this time, he wondered if the heavy pounding of his heart was from chasing after you, or the way your smile was ever so bright under the passing sunshower. your wet hair that danced along with the wind, the splashes of water against your feet, and the huge bear you were clinging onto, everything about the scene in front of him was breathtaking. “you’re too slow, ken!” perhaps it didn’t matter which was the correct answer, since you are the reason for both of it as well. “don’t regret starting this when i catch you later.”

— mitsuya watched you twirled in a carefree manner behind the camera. it was another unplanned shoot for his new collection, and having you, his muse, try it before anyone else was always his priority. after all, his favorite part in his line of work was having you model each and every piece of his artwork. “come here, my love.” you extended your hand out, a smile graced his lips at your invitation. taking your hand in his, you pulled him towards the pebble of steps by a calm river. it was one of those days where the sun was sitting high in the sky, the reflection of you smiling at him was clearly shown on the surface of the water. he was just about to snap a picture when a ripple caused the image to distort. it didn’t take long before more ripples were formed. being prepared as always, he took out a transparent umbrella from his bag. “i wouldn’t want my precious model getting sick, now would i?” he tapped your nose when you feel the tiny droplets stop falling onto your open palm. you frown, not liking the way he dismissed your fun. of course, a little umbrella would not stop you. with a huge grin, you lifted your dress up with your hands. “surely you can always find someone to replace me, mister popular designer.” with a wink, you hopped away from him and onto the other stones ahead. when you turned back to stick your tongue out, he realized perhaps you were hanging out with his little sisters too much. luna, especially, might have rubbed some of her mischief onto you. a sigh of content escaped his lips as he followed along, watching you light on your feet a few steps ahead. just as you slipped on your next landing, he broke your fall when he pulled you towards his chest. “no one can ever replace you though.” he let the umbrella slipped from his fingers, hands around your back when he lifted you up with ease. you chuckled, your finger combing his lilac locks away from his face. “what if you get sick too?” you rest your forehead against his, the sun doing real little to warm his back when he could feel all the heat making its way to his cheeks. does it matter? he thought, capturing your lips with his. once more, again and again. “i think it’ll be worth it for today, don’t you?”

— kazutora squeezed your hand in his, a smile on his face when you tugged at the collar of the akita inu you were helping him take a walk with. the ball of fluff wagging its tail excitedly at whoever that walked passed, obviously wanting a pat or two from them. “he reminds me of you sometimes.” you thought aloud, your gaze fell onto the little girl ruffling up the cheeks of the dog with her little hands. “what do you mean by that?” he gasped, tugging your hand to look his way. he loved the way your eyes softened at the kids playing with the dog, but he was more concerned about what you said. did you just compare him to a dog? you smiled at the parents of those kids, returning a small bow before resuming the walk. “oh, you know,” you stalled, biting back a laugh when he waited for you finish your sentence. maybe he did know the meaning behind your words, for he wasn’t oblivious to the times you cooed at him like how you would towards the pets in his shop. maybe he just wanted to be loved the same way they were loved, and maybe he wouldn’t mind being labeled as one if he belongs to you. “because you’re just that cute too.” your words probably wasn’t everything you wanted to convey, but it was okay. when the sky let those droplets of rain fall, he watched you struggle to hold onto the excited ball of fluff. kazutora hated the rain, the drizzle feeling prickly against his skin, but somehow he didn’t mind it today. was it because he was with you? instead of taking the ropes away from you, he carried the dog into his arms. “shall we run back to the shop?” you nodded, tipping your toes to give him a pat on his head. a laugh slipped from his lips at your gesture, even though it was short, it was enough to ease himself from the sudden sunshower. “i’ll dry your hair and we can cuddle afterwards, okay?” maybe a little rain wouldn’t hurt if he gets to indulge in your affection each time.

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jessmalia · 3 years ago

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it is only logical | peter pevensie

pairing: peter pevensie x fem!reader summary: valentine’s prompt 10 “everyone is going as a couple to the valentine’s day party and it would look stupid if we both went alone, right? maybe we can just go together.” requested by anonymous. peter and reader are college aged. a/n: I DID IT I FUCKING DID IT! I mean it’s actually half past midnight here, but it’s still Valentine’s in some parts of the world, right? I DID IT ANON I DID NOT LET YOU DOWN! ps: peter is a slut and somehow I manage to write it into every fic I write lol. warnings: drinking. wordcount: 1525

masterlist

It was Friday the 13th of February, and Y/n and Peter had gone to the library to get in some extra studying before the weekend came around. They were sitting across from each other at an otherwise empty table. Y/n was writing, and Peter was reading through his textbook.

“I heard Merissa is having a Valentine’s Day Party tomorrow,” said Peter.

Y/n nodded, keeping her eyes on the notebook in front of her. “I’m not surprised. It’s most of what she talks about.”

The side of Peter’s mouth pulled up ever so slightly into a small smirk. “Are you going?” he asked.

“If I didn’t, you’d see my body being pulled out of a river on the News in a couple days.”

Peter chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not too excited about it?”

“Your deduction skills truly are immaculate,” she said, before releasing a heavy sigh. “Yeah, not to sound like the nerdy girl in a Disney Channel movie, but literally everyone is going with someone. I’m not even exaggerating, I’m best friends with the host, everyone has a date. And being the only single person at a party on Valentine’s Day doesn’t exactly sound like the best time to me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” said Peter, “I’m not going with anyone either.”

That admission was what it took to make Y/n look up from her writing, eyes wide with shock. “Really?”

Peter nodded.

“But what happened to that brunette with the red headband?”

Peter frowned. “Yeah, I dumped her ‘cause she blamed global warming on gay marriage.”

Y/n’s eyebrows flew up. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she said with a sarcastic smile, eyes returning to the paper once more, “at least I won’t be alone in my misery.”

“Well…” Peter trailed off for a bit, “shouldn’t we just go together then?” he asked, and Y/n froze midway through her writing. Was Peter actually asking her out? If he was, she’d probably be jumping out the window within the next minute.

Just to make sure, she slowly looked up and locked eyes with Peter again, who somehow looked like he’d just said something perfectly normal that didn’t change the very nature of their relationships, and raised her eyebrows to ask him to explain further.

Peter understood the silent command, and said, “We’ll have someone to talk to the entire night and no one will be judgy. It would solve all our problems without it having to mean anything.”

Oh. So Peter wasn’t asking her out. He was simply presenting a mutually beneficial deal. Good. Relief washed over her as the weight disappeared from her shoulders, but she could feel something else too, a twist in her stomach. Was it… disappointment? No, there was no way.

Y/n bit her lip, considering the offer Peter had made. He was right that it made sense. They would get all the benefits of going with a date with none of the potential drawbacks. She couldn’t see anything wrong with the idea.

“It is only logical,” she agreed.

---

Y/n had just finished getting ready when there was a knock on the front door. She opened it and was met by Peter Pevensie’s handsome figure. It was so incredibly cliche she was ashamed to admit it, but her breath really was taken away when she saw him. He was wearing dark grey dress pants, a white fitted button-up and a nice jacket. It was a simple look, but boy, did it look good on him.

“Wow, you cleaned up nice.” Her words were nice in theory, but the sarcasm and bite in her voice was evident, and she was grateful that her words hadn’t failed her. Stomach twisting into intricate knots, insides fluttering, palms getting clammy — it was a miracle that she hadn’t tripped over her words.

But Peter remained unaffected by her mockery. “You look beautiful,” he said earnestly.

The genuine comment caught her off guard for a moment, before she rolled her eyes and walked past him towards Merissa’s house. “We’re not dating, Peter. We’re just going to a party together. Flirting isn’t required.”

He just chuckled, stepping in to walk next to her. “You know, your inability to take a compliment is really hilarious sometimes.”

---

They had barely stepped through the door when Merissa accosted them.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, running up to Y/n and wrapping her arms around her. “I thought you were gonna ditch there for a minute.”

Y/n returned the hug, frowning. “We’re only like 15 minutes late.”

“Yeah but you can’t lie to me,” Merissa pulled away, throwing a pointed stare at her, “you were considering it for a while.”

Y/n gasped, and placed a hand against her chest in fake mockery. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing.” Merissa just rolled her eyes.

“Come on, get in! The fun’s just about to start!” she said before running back to the party.

“We haven't even taken our coats off, calm down!”

---

An hour in and Y/n was pleasantly surprised by the evening. Merissa might not know how to get anything over a C on a test, but she did know how to throw a party. Peter had been a sweet surprise, too. Even though they had been friends for a good while, they had never spent time with each other in this way before, but now she knew that Peter Pevensie was really good with dates. Which explained a couple of things, for sure.

��She had sneaked off into the kitchen after one of the Valentine’s themed games to pour herself a drink and get some breathing room. The place was empty, and she stood alone, silently sipping her drink, tapping her foot along to the beat of the Taylor Swift song coming from the living room until Merissa came in.

They greeted each other, and when Merissa had poured a drink for herself, she turned back to Y/n.

“So…” she said. “You and Peter, huh?”

Y/n shook her head violently. “No. Not at all.”

Merissa smirked. “Double negative. That’s a yes.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/n replied, “You and I both know that’s not how it works. Peter and I just went together because we had no one else to go with. We’re friends, that’s all.”

“I don’t think that’s how he feels about you.”

Y/n frowned. “Pardon?”

Merissa looked to the side, eyes glazed over like they were whenever she got day-dreamy, and a smile stretched across her face. “Man, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. It’s like you’re his whole world or something. I’m so jealous! I wish someone would look at me like that.”

“Merissa, you have a girlfriend!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know how she looks at me when I’m not looking?”

Y/n rolled her eyes again. “You know what? Let’s get back in there and I’ll let you know.”

---

By the time Merissa had gotten so drunk that she’d started shooting people with a nerf gun, claiming to be Cupid, the two of them decided that it was time to head out. Peter had insisted on walking her home, and no matter how much she protested he wouldn't back down. He was a classic gentleman through and through. It was infuriating, but kind of cute in a way.

They had just as much fun walking home from the party as they had during it. Peter was a great conversationalist, and Y/n was just tipsy enough that she had stopped evading every question and compliment with sarcasm.

The conversation drifted away as they arrived at Y/n’s doorstep.

Peter nodded. “So.”

“So…”

“Guess this is good night then,” he said slowly, yet — he did not move.

The tension in between them was thick and palpable. They both let it sit there, simmering, until Y/n opened her mouth and whispered, “This kind of feels like that doorstep moment.” Her voice was so quiet, had Peter not been standing inches away, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Peter smiled that perfect smile of his, lopsided and just the right amount of cocky. “What moment would that be?” he whispered back, taking a step closer to her while fixing his gaze on hers, a look in his eyes that she couldn’t describe as anything other than pure infatuation. And before she knew it, he had placed his hands on the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Y/n had only let herself think about what it would be like to kiss Peter a handful of times before, but even in her fantasies she hadn’t imagined his lips would be this soft, nor that he would be this gentle, letting her lead the way, to not overstep any boundaries. As she moved her hands to wrap around his neck, he placed his on the small of her back, shifting, getting closer.

When they pulled apart his hands were still on her back, and hers had moved down to rest against his chest. Y/n stared at Peter’s swollen lips and let out a content sigh.

“Something like that.”

---

A/n: Please reblog and tell me what you thought!

taglist: @valentine-melody

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real-jane · 3 years ago

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Right For You, Too

[Bucky Barnes x fem!reader] [past Steve Rogers x reader]

Part 2 of the Right For You-niverse

Summary: A birthday re-do at Yankee Stadium, sweet questions, a surprise from Cap.

Warnings: None. Fluff for days and days.

Words: 4.9k+

A/N: This is the sequel to Wrong About Me, Right For You. Enjoy!

like what I do? buy me a coffee on ko-fi. :)

It was so warm that the heat off the pavement made the ice cream vendor on the corner of River and E 161st look like an oasis. Straight off the D train, which unloaded an ocean of white and blue pinstripes, Bucky knelt to offer you a piggyback ride–nevermind that it was too hot to tolerate someone else’s skin against his own; it was all in the name of your birthday, and that meant scoping out which intersection the sunglasses vendor had posted up at. Wherever the ice cream vendor was, Sal’s Sunglass Shack would be at the adjacent corner (Sal flirted with his wife across the street, as she scooped over-large helpings of vanilla into waffle cones before they could liquify, and pretend like they were thirty years younger).

“There!” You spotted Lara’s Ice Cream. “Think she’ll let me dunk my whole head in rocky road?”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” Bucky laughed. “Why’d you have to have your birthday when it was pushing a hundred?”

“I like seeing you sweat, Jamie.”

“What a pest.” He lovingly pinched your thigh, and crossed the street with the tide of sports fans when the light turned green.

It was unfairly hot, sticky even, but… Bucky didn’t mind that you were clinging to his shoulders, occasionally brushing your lips against his temple. When you had come out of your bedroom when he picked you up, holding a gift bag, he had narrowed his eyes. It was your birthday celebration, and here you were giving him gifts. So now, he was walking with the girl of his dreams in matching Lou Gehrig jerseys. They weren’t vintage–you’d said you had them made after he told you Gehrig was his favorite player as a kid, and your names were embroidered over the left breast, and it was the most thoughtful gift Bucky had ever received.

Then, you had put your cap on backwards and kissed him. Like you kissed his cheek now: sweet and lingering. “In case I forget to say it later, I had a nice time today.”

Bucky glanced up at you. “Don’t jinx it,” he chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter what happens. I might take a foul ball to the chin. Still. I’m here with you, and that’s the best thing you could do for my birthday.”

“I haven’t given you your present yet.” Bucky was so nervous about said present, he’d be sweating even if it was twenty below, but he was trying not to show it.

“What did you get me?”

“You gotta wait, doll. We have an agenda, remember? Two scoops of rocky road. Three pairs of sunglasses. It’s pretty far down the list.”

Upon arriving at Lara’s cart, Bucky allowed you to jump down. The gray-haired woman beamed; she had come to know both you and Bucky this season, and she knew before you had to ask that you both wanted “the usual.” Two scoops of rocky road ice cream, in a cup.

“It’s her birthday,” Bucky mouthed to Lara, pointing at you, and looking away innocently when you caught him. You poked him in the side.

“Honey! You came all the way here to see me on your day?” Lara said, like a history-making rivalry wasn’t being played out fifty yards from her cart.

“Technically it’s tomorrow, but yes.” You grinned. “Nowhere else I’d rather be!”

“Well your scoops are on me. Not yours, kiddo–you’re not special today.” She winked at Bucky, who couldn’t agree more.

Bucky gave her enough cash for three people’s worth of ice cream. “I gotta see a man about some sunglasses.” He signalled to Sal’s stand, where one Sam Wilson was currently perusing like he hadn’t been waiting for the two of you as planned. You gave him a thumb’s up. Bucky jogged across the street. Sam whistled as he approached.

“Look who’s in new gear! Gehrig, too? With your name–you’re kidding me.”

“That little nightmare had it made.” He nodded at you. You stuck your tongue out, and then used it on the rapidly-dripping ice cream. “I would’ve cried, except I am way too nervous.”

“I picked these out,” Sam said, temporarily ignoring Bucky’s nerves. He presented three identical pairs of sporty sunglasses, which had dark oil-slicked lenses and glinted from purple to yellow in shifting light. They were ridiculous, and perfect. “They’re not aviators, but I thought they’d make her laugh.”

“Say no more.” Bucky batted Sam’s hand away when he reached for his wallet. “Please. Hemorrhaging money helps me calm down. No offense, Sal.”

“Nobody else I’d rather gouge than you and your girl, Barnes.” The old man wore a tiny pair of circular sunglasses at the end of his nose, which served no purpose except making him look like he flew a dirigible.

Sam snorted. “Got any birthday deals in honor of the Princess?”

“Oh, I charge double for birthdays,” Sal snickered.

“How about for Cap?” Bucky suggested.

Sal shook his head. “Can’t afford the endorsement. But when I hit the big time, I’ll give you a ring.”

“You got it, Sal. Buck–Why are you freaking out?” Sam asked, when Bucky stole a glance across the street for the millionth time.

“Well…” Bucky hadn’t exactly told Sam the whole truth when he had invited him to come join the two of you for the big game. Mostly, he’d just insinuated that given how crappy your last one had been with Steve ditching, he had wanted to make it up to you. Sam readily agreed, and had even suggested going in with Bucky on season tickets as your gift, but… “I’m gonna ask her to move in with me.”

Sam blinked. He glanced between you and Bucky, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Y’all are… don’t tease me, man. Please, for the love of god… is this a thing? You two?”

“Depends,” Bucky blushed. “Are you happy about it or not?”

“You’re joking.”

Bucky scratched his cheek. “It’s very much a thing.”

Sam’s face fell for a moment, and his head dropped forward. He let out one long breath. When he looked up again, his eyes were shining. He held out his hand, and pulled Bucky in for a firm hug. He kept shaking his head, and smiling, but he looked so sad. Bucky patted his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I think that’s the feeling.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why it’s hittin’ me like this. You two deserve it.”

“Thanks, man.”

“How long?”

“Ran into each other by chance about five months ago,” Bucky said. “And, um.” He shrugged. “It was like… we both could breathe. Dunno. Maybe it sounds stupid–”

“Man, it sounds like you both finally got some sense,” Sam chuckled. “I never understood why she stayed with him when he ditched her all the time. Not complaining–it meant I got to know her when she wasn’t doing the Cap’s Girlfriend thing where she just… you remember how she’d stand behind his elbow and smile? God. Killed me. She’s the funniest person in any room, unless Steve was there, and her entire sense of humor got siphoned away–sorry. I’m clearly still pissed at him.”

“Nah. I’m sorry it took us so long to tell you, but we’ve been dealing with Steve’s stuff and trying to sell his place–turns out it’s hard to do when the owner had no will.”

To say it had been difficult was the understatement of both centuries which Bucky had seen, but it was resolved. Steve’s things were gone–given away to museums, thrift stores, or tossed if neither places wanted them–and now you and Bucky might actually focus on moving forward like you had been prevented from doing for so long.

“Christ,” Sam sighed. “Shoulda told me. I would’ve helped.”

Bucky shook his head. “She had a hard time with it. Sometimes she couldn’t handle me being there. It was something we had to do slowly, and give her a chance to breathe into the empty spaces until it was all gone. So. That’s done.”

“And now you’re gonna ask her to live with you.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I still… Sam, sometimes I wake up and worry he’ll come back.”

“Won’t happen.”

“Too many unknowns to feel secure in that. But. She knows how I feel.”

“You have been head over heels for that woman since at least her last birthday.”

“Longer. God–way longer. Years.”

“I know,” Sam said. He clasped Bucky’s shoulder. “I’ve seen you spend your whole day with her and then I’ve seen the aftermath, when you’re so sad you can’t form words, because you had to put her hand in his and walk away. Hurt me to see it. You two have always been two peas in a pod. You always fit better with her, and–”

“And now?” Bucky motioned to you. You were standing on top of the cement planter box, hands on your hips. You waved and grinned with delight.

“Come on slow pokes!” You hollered.

“She’s a live wire,” Bucky said proudly. “No making herself smaller, none of that shit anymore.”

“Thank god.” Sam pointed at you, and howled when you pointed right back.

“If you two are standin’ here all day, mind if I take a smoke break?” Sal leaned over the table covered in colorful frames, none of which likely cost him more than a dollar a piece, which didn’t account for his prices in the mid-twenties. He gestured to the sunglasses Sam had picked out. “You keeping my girl waiting?”

“Sorry, Sal.” Bucky paid Sal for the glasses, and put his on to hide the terror in his eyes. “I’m so nervous, I’m afraid I’m gonna ask her to the tune of take me out to the ballgame.”

“First of all… she would love that,” Sam laughed. “She will cry of happiness.”

Sam was right. Bucky knew that. It didn’t make him feel any better. Making you cry had about a fifty-fifty shot at making him feel terrible and lose his nerve, even if you were crying out of happiness. He couldn’t help it. He never wanted to see you weep when he was involved, but it couldn’t be helped in this case. There was no way you wouldn’t. He also was pretty certain you’d be happy. So.

When Bucky and Sam joined you across the street, you doubled over with laughter at the sight of them in their shades. You had to set their ice cream down or you would’ve let it fall to the pavement. Once you recovered, you lept at Sam for an enthusiastic hug.

“Hey, Bean!” Sam twirled you around with a laugh. “God, you are so old!”

“You’re older than me, Robin.”

“Nice of you to take two old men out for your birthday.” Sam set you on your feet again and offered you the glasses so you would be stylin’ too. “I hope these are ridiculous enough for your weird sensibilities.”

“You have such subtle taste,” you giggled. “But I gotta say–you both look very sexy in them, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say you belong in the Yankees dugout.”

“Strippers were expensive, so. Play your luck right and you might get your own personal dance from our resident hunk.” Sam shoved Bucky’s shoulder, pushing him right out of the brooding panic he was in. “Not me, though. Got bad hips.”

“See? Ancient,” you giggled. “Can we go in?” You handed them each their own ice cream soup.

Sunglasses on, ice cream finished, wet wipes used from the small cross-body bag Bucky wore, the little party entered the stadium.

The seats Sam and Bucky had gone in on together were behind the first base line, right where you’d have the vantage of players coming out of the dugout. As far as you were aware, that was the grand birthday present you were waiting for. Bucky sat with you, while Sam took off in search of several combo boxes. You wiggled in your seat in excitement, chattering away about your favorite players as their faces flashed up on the jumbotron, and how very likely it was that they would beat the Dodgers, given their stats, on and on… how cool it was to be able to see the stitching in the baseballs, how much you loved the smell of the dirt…

“Baby, this is so cool!” you finished, fingers pressed into your cheeks to try to put a bottle on the smile which was threatening to cramp your dimples.

“It is,” Bucky laughed. He put his arm behind your chair, but thought better of holding your shoulders, given how hot the metal seat back was. He had never been more thankful vibranium didn’t retain heat.

“To think–we used to have to imagine the baseball from all the way up there.” You indicated the nosebleed seats, where you and Bucky had been sitting habitually this season. You were beaming, but your glee settled into an anxious itch as the music began to play.

“It’ll be over quick,” he soothed.

“You think I’ll ever get over his stupid voice?” You peeped. You meant Steve’s voice–Cap, as he made the formal announcements. It had been several weeks since you’d been to a game, but usually, you waited in the beer line so you didn’t have to see his face up on the jumbotron, either. Bucky brushed your temple. First would come take me out to the ballgame, and his deep, resonant voice would boom, welcoming fans to Yankee Stadium.

“You’ve heard it a million times, you know it’s a three minute clip and it’s done.” Bucky was always as shaken by it as you, but he tried to look passive for your sake. Still, you sagged into his side.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “It’s just–”

“Hey.” Bucky tipped your chin up. “Why you apologizing?”

“I don’t want you to think I… miss him. Or something.”

“It’s okay to miss him, doll. He’s no threat to my peace of mind,” Bucky lied, like he hadn’t admitted to Sam that very fear. Still.

“Okay,” you breathed. “But. Before I get all goofy, I… you know I love you.”

You hadn’t been saying it for long. A few weeks, at most, but. Bucky never got tired of hearing it, even though every time you said it, it hit his ear like you’d been practicing it in the mirror. You were still nervous to tell him. As if he hadn’t been in love with you since Steve introduced the two of you.

“I love you too.” He smiled gently. “Especially when you’re goofy.”

The song ended, and you laid your cheek against Bucky’s shoulder to brace for impact. But Steve Roger’s narration never came. Instead… you gasped. Captain America strode to the pitcher’s mound. Your Cap–the one who had cried at a sunglasses stall over being happy for you and Bucky. The man who kept his promises.

Sam.

The crowd roared. He was wearing a different jersey than his usual Ripken duds, which he had been wearing when he met up with you and Bucky–his own custom uniform, with Wilson on the back in bright red lettering against the navy blue, offsetting the subtle white pinstripes. Obviously outside the usual uniform standards, but exceptions were made for Cap. He was still wearing his stupid douchey sunglasses, and a hat with the Yankees logo, but with the shield behind it. It was perfect.

“They gave him a jersey with away colors?” you protested, but you were sniffling.

Sam winked at the two of you, and chuckled at your stunned faces. “Good afternoon, Yankee Stadium!” His voice bellowed. He had a little microphone pinned to his collar. The crowd was electric. “I would like to personally thank you for coming today, on this, the hottest day in the history of baseball. We are about to witness an iconic game, a rivalry between the coasts. As a Louisiana boy, I can’t pick sides… but one of these fine teams gave me a free t-shirt.” He gestured to his torso and the truly beautiful jersey he wore. “As a side-note… I want to thank you all for being here for my first game as your Captain America.”

If the crowd could’ve stormed the field to lift Sam on their shoulders, they would have. The whole stadium chanted Cap, Cap, Cap, Cap… on and on. Bucky squeezed your knee, and you shared a look of awe with him. Pride, too. That was his best friend. Sam wasn’t one to let fame go to his head, but this was different. He loved baseball more than most people like anything, and he was getting this opportunity to share his new role with a whole stadium of people who loved baseball, too. It was awesome, in every sense of the word.

When the crowd calmed enough for him to speak, Sam said, “Please join me in welcoming to the field… the Los Angeles Dodgers!” And the attention was diverted from him once more, as he liked it.

As the starting lineup for the Dodgers jogged on the field, Sam read off their names, and each man in turn raised an arm to greet the crowd. A smattering of Dodgers fans cheered. Then, the music changed. New York, New York began, and Sam grinned.

“And now… your boys… give it up for the New York Yankees!”

You and Bucky were on your feet in an instant, and you cheered so loud for your favorite players, Bucky was certain you were going to lose your voice.

Sam took a baseball and a glove from the Yankees catcher. He fit the glove, took his stance, and threw out the first pitch–a beautiful, fast throw which had the catcher wincing. This was, after all, the man who regularly threw a heavy shield. Sam shook the catcher’s hand, and pulled a marker out of his pocket. He offered it to the catcher, and had him sign the baseball. You and Sam often talked about how good number sixty-six was, how much of an asset he was to the team; it was surreal to see him speaking to the man himself. Then, Sam was crowded by guys from both teams, shaking his hand or patting his back, thrilled to meet Captain America. He passed around his baseball and glove to as many players as possible. The field was a little bit chaotic, but for Sam’s first game as Cap… it was perfect.

The regular announcer took over, but not before Sam ran over to the railing. He held out the glove and ball… to you.

“Happy birthday, Bean. From your team.” He winked. You looked up at Bucky, who was as shocked as you.

“Samuel Elizabeth, that was a dirty trick!” You crowed, clutching the ball and glove to your chest. Sam hauled himself up over the railing (which was an illegal and uncouth thing to do, but the security guard standing nearby chortled and gave him a thumbs up), and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Listen, I… I’m proud of you,” you said, making eye contact with Bucky over his shoulder. Sam squeezed you tighter. “Please tell me this is permanent.”

“Oh yeah, baby! You’ll hear my dulcet tones at the top of every inning, too.” He rubbed your back.

“You didn’t plan this specifically for my birthday, did you?” You pulled back sharply to look Sam in the eye. He shook his head.

“Happy coincidence. This guy didn’t know, either.” He patted Bucky’s shoulder. “So. Surprise! Y’all are my people, and I’m so glad we’ll be sitting in these seats together for every home game.”

“Seriously. You two are so sneaky. I cried on our tickets this morning,” you admitted. Bucky nodded when Sam looked at him for confirmation.

“You know she will sleep with that glove on,” Bucky snickered as you held the new leather to your skin. “Gonna have Gerrit Cole’s autograph printed on your forehead.”

“It would be an honor,” you said dreamily.

“I gotta go do a press thing,” Sam said, “but I’ll be back before the second inning.”

“With those sunglasses on?” you teased.

“I know you ain’t insulting Captain America’s shades.”

“I would never.” You pulled your own down the tip of your nose and winked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure you wouldn’t, Princess Beanie.”

“I swear to god.” You punched his arm, and immediately winced from the impact. “Get out of here with your stupid nicknames, and bring me the shittiest beer in the place when you come back!”

Sam saluted, and disappeared again, back up the steps this time, after giving Bucky a prolonged hug. Sam received many pats on the back as he passed through the fans, and there was something really… moving, watching him walk through the crowd, instead of trying to avoid them like… well, it didn’t matter. Comparison was pointless. Sam was Captain America, baseball’s Cap, and Bucky couldn’t be prouder.

You sat beside him, and handed your new souvenirs over for Bucky to inspect. He pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and whistled. “This is amazing. We gotta get you a real good display. Something that swivels so you can see all sides.”

“Where would I put something like that?” you giggled, as Bucky reverently ran his thumb over Cole’s autograph.

He gulped. “Well. Honey… you, um, could keep these at mine.”

“Yeah?”

“But… they would miss you, so. You’d have to visit pretty often.”

Your eyes sparkled with laughter from beneath your own sunglasses. “We haven’t spent one night apart in five months, but do go on.”

Bucky touched your chin. “Y/n… You know how I feel about you.”

“Remind me.” You leaned into his touch. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Please?”

“You're gonna make me get sappy in front of total strangers.”

“You don’t mind, do you, sir?” The man behind you was on his third beer and couldn’t have cared less if you jumped Bucky right there. “Go on.” You took off your glasses and hooked them on the front of Bucky’s jersey, smoothing your hand over his heart to give him courage.

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” Bucky cleared his throat. “I’m in love with you, babydoll. I’ve not made any secret of that since you snotted on me on our sushi date. But. I want to share a closet with you. Well… give you my closet, you know I have one suit, I’m not a hanging clothes kinda guy. And I wanna put up all our photos on one wall, and have his and hers mugs. So. Really, what I’m trying to say is: now that we’ve sold his place, I would love it if you moved in with me. You basically already live there, but. I got you a copy of my key. Actually–I wasn’t supposed to do that, so please don’t tell the super,” he said quickly, nervously. “I should’a asked you a while back, but I think part of me was still… I dunno. Not sure. If this is what you wanted.”

“Take a breath,” you said, breathless yourself. Sure enough… your eyes were brimming with unspent tears. You held onto his wrist as his thumb made circles over your jaw. “You still worried that if he was standing right here, I’d pick him?”

Bucky’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t want to nod, so he kissed you. Softly, to ask for forgiveness for being weak. But you hummed.

“Let me put you out of your misery, handsome. I’ll move in with you. I would love to.” You kissed the corners of his mouth, and his forehead. “I should’ve known from the minute I met you that you were it, Jamie. It was you who made my skin all tingly, not him. I wasted a lot of time because I thought I was lucky Steve chose me, but… you made me believe I deserve to be chosen. If he was here right now, I’d probably… well, I’d throw up on him out of shock, most likely. That would say everything. Just, all over his stupid Keds.”

“Gross,” he laughed. “But effective.”

“Yep. And I’d look him straight in the eye, and say, ‘the love of my life is James Barnes, so skedaddle!’ Something old-timey to twist the knife.” A tear streaked down your cheek to punctuate the feeling.

“So evil, so cute.” He wrinkled his nose. “Well. Okay, then. You’re gonna be my live-in lover.”

“‘Live-in lover,’ Jesus Christ. Am I your dame, old man?”

“I’m sorry, woman!”

“Oh boy. You hate the word ‘girlfriend,’” you giggled.

“I’m going to tickle you to death.”

***

The Yankees beat the Dodgers just for you, and Captain America provided a full flight of New York’s shittiest beer on tap to celebrate. You had a better birthday than you ever remembered having, and it was capped by Bucky and Sam helping you move what little belongings you had left into Bucky’s place the next day… your actual birthday.

Sam filled the long wall down the hallway with framed photographs–of the three of you, several of only you and Bucky on the various excursions and dates you had gone on since reconnecting, baby pictures of you, Bucky’s enlistment headshot, family photos of the Barneses… filled. Bucky built a bookshelf for your tiny collection of books, which barely filled one box. It was aspirational, he told you. You tossed your underwear into the drawer with his, and hung all your clothes in the closet, just like he hoped.

Seeing your belongings next to Bucky’s–sometimes indistinguishable from them–filled you with such a sense of peace that you wanted to stay awake as long as possible to enjoy your new reality. Sam left shortly after midnight, after treating you all to the best pizza in New York. Bucky fell asleep hard, soon after. But you stayed up, snuggled against him in the bed you’d slept in as long as you’d been together, but now was yours permanently. Bucky’s resistance to the word ‘girlfriend’ wasn’t discouraging, as far as forever was concerned. In fact…

At three fifteen in the morning, Bucky was awoken by soft fingers smoothing hair from his forehead. He opened one eye. Yours were glassy in the moonlight, and you smiled.

“Hey,” he whispered sleepily, catching your fingers and pressing them to his lips. You smiled, but… “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said, but your voice caught on thick emotion. “Everything is so perfect that I found myself laying here, crying.”

“Why, darlin’?”

“‘Cuz you’re good to me.”

“You deserve that,” he said. Bucky kissed your brow. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, no contest.” He laced your fingers together. “That’s been true since the day I first laid eyes on you. It’s only gotten more obvious with time. And now you sleep in my bed! How’d I get so lucky?”

“Because every morning,” you began, pressing your hand to his bare chest, over his heart, “you wake up and choose me.”

Bucky yawned. “Listen—it has never felt like a choice I have to make. That would be like ‘you, or breathing.”

“Had a nightmare the other night,” you admit, softly. “I was running to catch up with you, but you couldn’t hear me. And I was screaming, and trying to tell you how much I love you—but you turned around, finally, and realized I was there, and you vanished.”

“Shit. Been binging some Greek mythology?”

“Right? God.” You winced.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I did. Kinda. You rolled on top of me and said something I didn’t quite understand, and then started snoring.”

“I’m so charming,” Bucky snorted.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Would you wanna marry me? Someday. Not… not this second.” The moment it came out, you rubbed your cheek in worry. “I’ve never been with somebody who I wanted to marry before. But it keeps popping into my head. Every time I think about it, it feels so perfect. And not because you gave me season tickets to the Yankees, even though I’m so happy about it I want to cry all over again! And not because you asked me to move in, either. It’s everything else.”

Bucky swallowed hard, and rubbed his eyes. “You didn’t want to, with Steve?”

“No.”

“You’re serious,” he murmured. “You’d wanna be with just me, forever.”

“Only you, Barnes.”

“I’m—I—how… shit, gimme a second.” Bucky pinched his nose. Your face fell. “No, don’t do that, doll—I gotta find the words. Still half asleep. My brain is outpacing my mouth, here.” He grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger. “You’re telling me… I could call you my wife?”

You nodded faintly, smiling.

He didn’t hesitate, then. “Yes.”

You blinked. “Yeah? You mean it?”

“I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Babydoll, I’m serious as a heart attack.”

“You can live with this mess for the rest of your life?”

“I insist on it.”

“Might change your mind when you’ve had me as a roommate for a while.”

“Impossible.”

“Okay. That’s all, then. Go back to sleep.” You curled into his chest and fit yourself in such a position which had him laughing because of how ridiculous it was to have you burrowing as close as possible. He rubbed your back until you fell asleep.

But then he couldn’t sleep, because… because he was right. Right to love you, and to ask you to move in, and right to let himself feel every hard thing about Steve leaving until he could pick his fear apart and let it go, because for once, he wasn’t really scared about the future. The intrusive thoughts might still trickle in now and again, but his girlfriend was you, and you wanted the same things he did. Whether it was an entire afternoon of pro-baseball, or a life together. You were in.

Part 3

***

Thanks for reading! :)

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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dazz-linglight · 4 years ago

Note

Exo first I love you reaction

(yess baby, thank you for requesting!) (This took me a long time to post and I specified the reason below.)

Xiumin (Minseok)

After spending the night together he woke up first and tries to get up to go to the kitchen to make two mugs of coffee to start the day, but you protest holding him tighter still in your sleep

"Don't leave me, I love you.." He sees your eyes closed and decided to stay five minutes more to cuddle you.

"I love you too, baby." He kisses your cheek and nuzzles on your neck, laying down comfortably again with a big smile.

Suho (Junmyeon)

You have been friends with benefits for a while, sometimes made movie nights together and hang outs and not officially in a relationship yet, so you invited him to come over to talk. He arrived a few minutes later and you pulled him to the couch to sit down.

"Are you okay?" He asked a little worried by your seriousness and leaned closer.

"No.. I mean yes, kinda, I just don't want to hold it back anymore."

"What is it?" You had butterflies swarming on your stomach by adrenaline and the scary thought of failure on your mind, you squeezed his hand in the space between the two of you and gathered the courage to say it.

"I' love you. As more than a friend, I mean." He seemed surprised for a minute while you waited for some kind of response but soon he smiled seemingly relieved. It was your turn to be surprised when he wrapped a hand on your neck and pulled you closer in a light kiss.

"I was worried you were going to say you found someone else. Good thing I was wrong, because I love you too."

Lay

Yixing spent the day on his studio and you were worried since you knew that he often neglected himself when working, so you decided to pay him a visit in the evening and got food on the way.

"Baobei?" You placed the containers with food on the center table and got closer to him after noticing he was asleep on the couch and massaged his shoulder until he stirred.

"Oh? You're here" He showed those cute dimples with a smile and sat up to pay attention to you.

"Have you eaten? I bought hotpot, we can eat together."

"You didn't have to.." He tried to convince you it was okay but you're weren't having it.

"I had to because I love you and I worry about you, okay?" He felt like he was still dreaming when you said it and you saw his ears getting red.

"You love me?" You give him a pair of chopsticks and nod sitting by his side.

"Yes, I do."

"Fair enough, I love you more."

Baekhyun

Baekhyun invited you to a late night ride to the Hand River to enjoy the view with you with no interruptions. He put Bambi to play on the bluetooth and you both of you opened the doors to go to the back seats, getting comfortably close to cuddle.

"You're so warm, I love it.." You sigh laying your head on his wide shoulder and he wrapped his arms around you, spreading his fingers lightly along the soft skin of your cheek and bringing your chin up to look at him.

"And I love you." You traced the veins on his arm. It was exactly then that you felt him as yours, belonging to each other. You pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss and separating a few seconds later.

"I love you too.." He nuzzles on your neck, humming softly in your ear to the music playing from his phone.

Chen

(I spent a long time wondering if I should write about him romantically now that he's actually married, and after much thought I came to the conclusion that yes, I will still write for him since this is just fiction and it won't do any harm to his actual relationship. If you're uncomfortable you can skip his part.)

It happened in the first holiday you were spending together with his parents. You had been wanting to say it for quite some time before that moment and had nearly said it on a few occasions but chickened out. The urge was stronger when he showed little gestures of cuteness that were his personal ways of saying “I love you” without words. Then he decided to take the lead and say it first in the middle of the kitchen in the early hours of the morning after making you tea.

“Pardon?” Just because you wanted to be sure that you've heard him right.

"I love you." He repeated himself, this time closer to you and then of course, you didn't hesitate to say it right back.

Chanyeol

You and Chanyeol were on your first trip together to a small town away from Seoul to see the cherry blossoms. It's the new season and the view is beautiful to see together on a hiking.

"Yeol! Look at this one!" You pointed at the biggest tree you saw until now and Chanyeol smiled taking pictures of you and the tree, wanting to register the moment. You run to his side and hug him by the neck, took his phone and clicked selfies while kissing his cheek, causing him to laugh wholeheartedly hugging you tight.

"You're so cute, I love you." He mumbled booping your nose. You were unknowingly recording, the rush of dopamine in your brain and quickening of your heart as your thoughts only focused on him.

"I love you too!" You replied with excitement, taking advantage of the empty place to shower him with many kisses, all of it staying engraved on his phone.

D.O.

You were preparing the salad when you heard the beeps of the code on the front door, meaning Kyungsoo arrived. He smelled the food and heard the noises coming from the kitchen, so he rolled up his sleeves and walked until he found you. You turn around to greet him as he took in the sight and stared back at you.

"Are you hungry? Dinner is almost ready!" You could practically see his irises dilating and he wrapped an arm over your hips and planted a light kiss on both of your cheeks and lips.

"You're the best, I love you." Your arms tighten on his back through the surprise but still gathered the courage to answer with a giggle as he nuzzles his nose on your neck.

"I love you too."

Kai

Jongin had to travel to another city for a special photoshoot and would stay there for a week, so whenever you both had time you called each other, during the day and at night before sleeping.

"Okay, now we really should hang up, you need to rest for tomorrow." You point out after seeing it's close to midnight.

"Then you hang up first."

"No, you first."

"You!"

"Let's hang up together."

"Okay. Count till 3?"

"1"

"2"

"3"

"Yah."

"What?"

"I love you." He answered first in a whisper.

"I love you too, sleep well." You smiled feeling all bubbly and could hear him giggling on the other side.

"Dream about me." He said at last and hung up, both of you fluttered by the moment.

Sehun

Sehun had gone out with the members for dinner and later arrived at your door by taxi since he drank a little too much.

"There's my pretty doll." He greets slurring his words as you helped him in and took his jacket.

"Come closer, I'll tell you a secret.." You get curious about what he was going to say in the first time you're seeing him drunk and scoots closer to him.

"Yes?"

"Hi." Sehun draped his arms around you, pulling you even closer to talk right on your ear.

"Hi."

"Baby."

"Yes?"

"I love yooou" He said followed by a fit of giggles from his drunk self and you squeeze his cheeks to make him focus.

"I love you too, silly." You kiss his face and wrap your hands around his torso. Someway Sehun end up tripping while kicking off his shoes and leads both of you to the ground, you above him.

#linawritings #exo fluff #exo blurbs #exo reactions #exo x reader #exo masterlist #exo reaction #exo imagines #xiumin x reader #baekhyun x reader #suho x reader #yixing x reader #chen x reader #kai x reader #kyungsoo imagine #kyungsoo x reader #sehun x reader #chanyeol x reader

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africanotaku92 · 4 years ago

Text

Schrodinger's Boy

I missed Phan Phic Phight but now I'm here for Dannymay! Not really going along with the prompts, just wanted to write something for the month.

I dedicate this to @five-rivers because i love their stuff so much!

Please, enjoy!

***

Schrödinger’s Boy

It was dead when she saw it.

Oh so very dead, but walking. Talking. Living.

That really doesn’t make sense, so let’s start from the beginning;

Nelia Ugochi d’Bandinello was not a normal child. Ever since she was young, she could see death. And no, not like the walking skeleton clad in black robes and a scythe most people assume, but real death; the dead, the dying, the undead, all. No one, not even her closest family members knew, and she intended to keep it that way. As long as she kept to her own and didn’t cross the line for the rules, she was safe.

Ever since her family moved to this country, she knew the small, sleepy town was a little dead. The essence was in every nook and cranny, even the air had a thin yet distinctive layer of it. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

That is, until now.

The air’s death suddenly sharpened the moment before it walked in.

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow.

And now, it was sitting two tables across from her.

She swallowed the milkshake that threatened to spill out of her mouth. She tried to turn back to her food, tried to ignore its presence. But she kept glancing its way, turning back to the most terrifying yet fascinating creature she had ever seen.

And she just. Kept. Staring.

One of its cohorts – the black one with glasses – pointed at her direction, and it suddenly looked over. Their eyes made contact. She gasped and looked away.

‘Such haunting eyes.’ She thought.

“Nelia? What’s wrong?” She looked up to see her brother Irnerio, who had previously been trying to unhinge his jaw to fit an absolutely massive burger, was now looking at her in concern.

“Nothing.” She forced out. She glanced back at them. Her brother’s concerned face was already contorting into a smug grin.

“Oh? Falling in love already?” He chuckled “It’s the pale boy, right?” Her cheeks heated. Definitely not what was happening.

“Shut up.”

“Well, you did say that one of the advantages of moving was ‘Date cute Americans’. Though I must say, I always thought that the goth girl would be more your type. You could both indulge in your weird fascination with death.”

She hit her brother in the ribs.

“Stolto*.” She hissed. “I said shut up.”

Her brother laughed.

***

“Dude, the new girl is totally checking you out.”

Danny swallowed his bite of a burger. “What?”

He, Sam and Tucker had gone to Nasty Burger for lunch that Saturday, and had noticed the two newest additions to the town residence. The girl had been looking at them ever since they walked in.

“She’s probably not into me. Probably looking at Sam. They look foreign, so for all we know, she may be their first goth.”

“An honour I am willing to have with pride.”

“She’s looking over here right now!”

Danny turned to where Tucker was pointing and sure enough, she was looking at them. They made eye contact, and hers widened and she looked away.

“See? Totally into you.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Tuck.” He continued eating his burger. But somehow, he couldn’t shake the stare off of him. As if she was looking past his flesh and staring at the very ghost that made his soul.

He shivered at the thought.

***

Oh God above, it went to her school.

The creepy thing goes to her school.

She wondered how it got into her school. She wondered why, of all things, it had to attend as a student.

Mondays where truly the worst days of the week.

She had learned the creatures name was Danny Fenton, official school weirdo, son of the two most successful ghost hunters (oh the irony), and all-round loser she shouldn’t interact with (according to the Mexican girl that approached her). She didn’t really care though, as much as she was weary, she still wanted to know what it was. And she was determined to find out.

The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed and pulled her books from her locker. She didn’t want to be late.

***

Hours later, school was long over, and Nelia was busy at work in the kitchen, kneading dough for her second batch of strawberry calzones, the first already in the oven. Her mother stood at in front of the doorway, watching her.

“That’s a lot of dessert calzones for 4 people.”

She finished kneading and started rolling out the dough. “Oh no, ours are part of the last batch. Most of these are offerings.” She turned to her mother. “I’m going to the Cemetery after dinner. To pay some respects.”

Her mother sighed. There was no talking her out of this. Every time they go someplace new, she always paid her respects at a local gravesite. She stopped trying to prevent her a long time ago.

“Well, just be back before midnight. But in the meantime, let me help you close the ones you’ve already filled. We could talk, use some mother daughter bonding time.” She smiled and nodded at her mum, handing her a spare apron. She gladly took it and set to work beside her daughter.

“Have you heard? There’s a story I heard. They say this town has some kind of ghost hero…”

***

It was late in the evening, and she had paid her respects at the last grave when she saw him.

And he was oh so very much Alive.

Silver white hair adorned his head like a glowing crown. Striking, electric green eyes, a black jumpsuit with white boots and gloves. Veins, across his skin, visible with the implication of pure green death flowing in them, the sound of each breath he takes. A pulsating buzz emitting from his chest, almost sounding like a beating heart. These where the features of Amity Park’s local hero and (dead) celebrity, Danny Phantom.

And he had just landed in front of her.

“Um, are you ok? It’s pretty late out.”

She blinked at first, startled to hear him talk, but composed herself enough to speak.

“Ah, yes I’m fine. Just, paying my respects.” She gestured to the grave and the basket of food.

“Oh, really? That’s nice of you! Apart from family, hardly anyone pays respect these days.”

“Yes, it’s something I try to do everywhere I go. Speaking of respect, where’s yours?”

Danny blinked. “My what?”.

“Your grave. I have to pay my respects to you. This is the only cemetery in town, but I didn’t see your grave.”

Danny froze in shock. He hadn’t really thought about it.

“Oh. I kind of, uhm, don’t have one?” Because I’m not really dead.

It was Nelia’s turn to be shocked. And then she was angry. Was this town really so ungrateful that they didn’t have a grave for their hero? That wouldn’t do.

“Where do you want one?”

“What?”

“Where would you want your grave? I’m going to make you one.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

“Your… going to make a grave for me?” “Of course? It’s only common decency, a basic right to the dead. I might not have your body, but if I have a photo to at least mark your image, it would do.”

Danny was stunned by this gesture. No one had offered him a grave before. So, he told her about his ideal spot.

Weeks later, in a secluded spot in the woods, he stands with her above a freshly dug grave, underneath a willow tree, facing directly at the night sky marked with a picture of him in his ghost form. She drops a plate of calzones and lights some lavender incense. She pays her respects and stands back letting him trace over the picture and admire the grave. It’s not the best grave, but it’s also the only one he’s received. He couldn’t help it, as a few tears dripped from his eyes. It was a sweet gift.

He turns to her, clasps his hand in hers. He manages to choke out between tears.

“Thank you.”

She stares back at him. This action, it’s so… human. She senses familiarity, like she could almost imagine him when he was alive……

Oh.

The connection between the dead boy and alive ghost hits her like a train, all the similarities adding up. She smiles at him.

“It’s your grave. You should bring your friends to see it.”

His eyes widen in panic, wondering how she found out. She shakes her head.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He relaxes and nods, let’s go of her hands and they stare back at his very own grave. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they see it.

That night, she’s back in her room, wide awake, thinking of everything that happened. His hands were cold, but not like death cold. Like he had stuck his hands in the freezer. His tears were so real.

This boy, who was dead yet alive. Walking perfectly on the line between life and death, tittering to neither side.

Schrödinger’s boy indeed.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannymay2021 #dp #long reads #i'm sorry i had to resort to google translae #even if it was just one word #i was gonna write more but i finished this at 1 am

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ramzawrites · 4 years ago

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A Painful Reminder - Dad!Schlatt and Reader - Part 2

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Philza, Fundy, Tubbo, (mentioned) Schlatt

Warnings: mention of past self harm (ripping off horns), mention of blood, abandonment, cursing

Series: A part 2 after multiple people asked for it (thank you)

Summary: Quackity found Y/N bleeding next to the river. Now he frantically tries to figure out how to help them in more ways than one.

Words count: 3243

Authors Note: Here it is! Thank you for all the nice messages on part 1! It took longer than I had hoped and I apologize but also thank you all for the messages that cheered me up :D I’ll be honest I was a bit intimidated by all this and I hope that you guys enjoy this fic nontheless 💙 Also I usually like to put the fics right beneath the asks but since I got so many messages I decided to answer some of them, I hope that is alright. Or tell me if I should do it differntly after all haha

NO GUARANTEE BUT I MADE THIS POST THAT YOU CAN INTERACT WITH IN CASE YOU WANT TO GET TAGGED FOR A PART 3, no guarantee I will actually sit down in the near future for it but HERE

Reposted as a test to see if it will appear in the tags

“See. It’s already working.”

These words continued to echo through Quackity’s mind as he carried the unconscious Y/N in his arms, not worried about the blood that was soaking into his blue jacket. If anything he was more worried that dirt from his clothes was getting into the fresh wounds.

“Anyone? I need a doctor! Healing potions! Anything!” once again he yelled out hoping somebody was around L’Manberg.

Even though Y/N was knocked out cold their expression displayed pain. Quackity could only imagine how they did this to themself but he tried not to think too hard about it. The wounds looked gruesome even without the exact knowledge of how this came to be.

How desperate must they have been to hurt themself like that?

How long have they suffered that this was their reaction?

How will he live with the knowledge that he was partially at fault?

“Quackity? What’s wrong?”

Said man turned around to see a worried looking Tubbo and Fundy standing behind him. As soon he did though both their expression turned from worried to shock.

Fundy’s eyes widened as he saw Y/N laying limp in Quackity’s arms “What the- For the love of Ender what happened! Their horns!”

“I don’t know but I found them like this. Can you- Do you know-“ Quackity was struggling to find the rights words but Tubbo knew what he meant.

Once again his expression changed. Now looking more serious and determined but the worry was still clear through his body language “Let’s go to Phil. He has some brewery stands and I’m sure he will let us use his.”

Fundy nodded “I’m sure grandpa will help us.”

Quackity didn’t hesitate, he immediately begun making his way towards Phil’s house, still making sure that Y/N’s head isn’t moving around too much. Scared that he might hurt them even more.

All the while Tubbo made sure to stay a few steps ahead. As if he was keeping lookout for any possible dangers or to make sure that the way was free for them so the group could reach Phil’s place as fast as possible.

Fundy walked side by side with Quackity on the other hand. His eyes always darting to Y/N’s head. Staring at the place where their dark horns used to be. Queasy with all of this he grabbed his tail with his own hands.

Luckily it indeed didn’t take long for them to reach Phil’s place. Tubbo knocked hastily against the wooden door as Quackity readjusted Y/N in his arms.

The door opened and a somewhat tired looking Phil stood in front of them. His eyes first landed on Tubbo and slowly wandered towards Quackity with Y/N “What the- What is going on?”

Fundy stepped forward, still nervously holding onto his tail “We need your help, grandpa. Y/N is hurt and we need potions for them.”

Before he even ended the sentence Phil was already making space for the small group to walk in “Yes, of course. You can put them down on my bed there. I have some ingredients for potions in some of the chests. Tubbo, Fundy you know how to make healing and regeneration pots?”

“We do.” Tubbo answered sternly.

“Okay, then I’ll clean the wounds while you both make them.”

Quackity laid Y/N carefully down on the soft bed. A few whimpers escaped their mouth as he let go off them. Their face was still stained with their own tears. Blood covering the sides of their face as well as their hands. Their clothes dirty and wet.

Phil immediately moved in with fresh water and a clean rag, slowly cleaning up the wounds where Y/N’s horns used to be.

Tubbo and Fundy ran around from chest to chest, collecting all the ingredients for the potions. The only sound in the room came from the glass bottles and the brewery stands as well as the occasional painful groan from Y/N.

No one was saying it but all of them felt sick to their stomach. Seeing them without their horns felt so wrong. A part of their body just gone. Especially for fellow Hybrids this was a gruesome thought.

“So, what exactly happened?” Philza dunked the rag back into the water.

Quackity was just pacing around the room as he asked that question. He didn’t know anything about how to heal Y/N and was instead battling the increasing guilt that was building up in him.

He took a deep breath in “I don’t know. I heard some crying and when I investigated I found them by the river laying in the grass like this. I asked them what happened but they just babbled something on the lines of that they freed themself so we all can live in peace.”

Tubbo gasped “Don’t tell me- Don’t tell me they did this to themself! But this doesn’t make any sense!”

“Really? I think it makes a lot of sense!” Quackity snapped at Tubbo “Everyone has been avoiding them ever since fucking Schlatt’s death and they are not stupid! They realize we left them alone because of their relation to him! I know for a fact that you too saw their horns and had to think of him! You left them alone just how I did. How everyone did! This is our fault!”

“Quackity-“ Fundy wanted to calm the other man down but he was way too angry.

Too angry at everyone and himself.

“No! There is nothing else to say! We fucked up!”

The young president just stared at Quackity. Surprised with his reaction but he couldn’t fault him for it. He spoke the truth. It was an open secret after all. Something everyone knew but no one dared to talk about. No one thought of the consequences.

Fundy frowned and stared at the ground, mumbling something no one could understand.

Quackity still agitated turned towards him “What did you say?”

The Fox Hybrid looked up, his frown still present, showing his fangs “We were hurting as well! We all needed time to heal!”

“On the expense of Y/N?”

“What were we supposed to do!?”

Phil let out an annoyed groan “Can you two shut the fuck up? We can deal with this later! Right now the priority should be healing Y/N.”

After that no one dared to say anything. Tubbo and Fundy stood each at a brewing stand and stared intently at the glass bottles while Quackity decided to stand close to Phil and Y/N.

Schlatt’s rule was a horrible time. During that time Y/N and he bonded. Trying to keep each other’s spirit up as Schlatt destroyed everything in his wake. Including his relationships with his own child and him. Hence why he felt this increased sense of having to make sure that they were alright. It was the least he could do after screwing up so bad before.

“See, it’s already working” The sentence Y/N spoke just before they passed out snuck into his thoughts again. They were right. It hurt, because they were right.

Suddenly he had an idea “Phil, could regenerations potions, um, make them regrow? The horns, I mean.”

Philza stopped moving. His eyebrows pulled down in thought as he slowly shook his head “No, Regeneration Potions just increase the body’s ability to heal itself. Horns don’t regrow. If you lose them, they are gone forever.”

This stung. There was this slight hope in him that maybe, maybe they all could make it up. Correct all of their mistakes but instead he was left with even more guilt. Now they might not see the horns that would remind them of Schlatt but instead they would be met with a constant reminder of their own fault and guilt.

Suddenly Tubbo took a bottle out of the brewery in his hand while Fundy gave him a different one. He handed both of them to Phil who got out new rags and put one of the potions on it which he then used on the wound. Luckily the bleeding slowly did indeed stop more and more.

“Okay, the regeneration one they have to drink. It should help them with any general pain and should increase their healing but for that they have to wake up.” A weary sigh left his lips as he began cleaning up.

Phil put some of the rags in a chest only to pull out some bandages and threw them towards Quackity who struggled for a second but managed to catch them after all “Bandage them up, will ya?”

Quackity nodded and sat down on the bed next to Y/N. Their wounds still looked bad but at least their face was clean now and the bleeding stopped as well. Carefully he propped them up on his lap so he had an easier time to wrap their head.

He wasn’t the best at it but he did a good enough job that Philza didn’t feel the need to jump in.

Tubbo and Fundy were now standing on opposite sides of the room. Both had their arms in front of their chest. While Tubbo looked more worried, Fundy still had his frown on.

He understood where Quackity was coming from but to him there was no other way. If he forced himself to hang out with them then Y/N would have noticed it. He was sure of it. It was unfair to say that all of them were at fault for this. Yes, this was bad. This was quite frankly horrifying what happened but to say that all of them were at fault? That didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe he was too scared to accept the guilt.

Once Quackity finished wrapping up Y/N and just as he slowly dropped their head back on the bloody pillow, they begun groaning.

Everyone’s but Phil’s eyes widened as their gazes immediately snapped towards Y/N.

They slowly opened up one of their eyes and begun to sit up, without missing a beat Phil walked away from the chest he was rummaging about and instead grabbed the regeneration potion, pushing it into Y/N’s hands “Drink.”

Still groggy from their ordeal they just nodded and chugged the whole bottle down before setting the empty bottle down next to them. One of their still dirty hands flew towards their forehead, wincing in pain.

“Y/N?” Quackity tried to gain their attention but Y/N was busy trying to understand what was going on.

Suddenly their eyes grew wide and the other hand flew up to the head. Slowly they begun feeling around the rough bandages, inching more and more towards the place where their horns used to be connected with their head.

Letting out a pained gasp as soon as they arrived at the wound. Tears welling up in their eyes.

“It wasn’t a dream.” Y/N rasped out.

Tubbo looked like he was standing on hot coals with how much he danced around on the spot “I’m sorry, Y/N. We-“

But he interrupted himself as Y/N let out a dry laugh. It was a laugh mixed with relief, pain and shock. A laugh that set the pain inside Quackity’s and the other’s chest ablaze again. Even Fundy’s frown disappeared into one of disbelief. Like it just hit him what has happened.

Quackity was too busy with gauging everyone’s reaction that he didn’t notice how Y/N was now silently crying. They tried their best to suppress it via wiping away any tears that dared to escape but it was a futile effort.

“Where- Where am I?”

“In my place. Quackity carried you over here with Tubbo and Fundy.” Philza explained. He never really interacted with Y/N as well. He arrived in L’Manberg and was forced to kill his own son. Blaming the system and people of this city, so once he found out Y/N was Schlatt’s child, who was one of the main reasons Wilbur fell to his own paranoia? No, he didn’t feel incredibly comfortable trying to do small talk with them.

Sure, he felt bad for them but not guilty. No, the people who already knew them should feel guilty. If anything he felt sorry for them and saw them as another victim to the people similar like his son. A bit ironic if you really thought about it. The child of Schlatt and his own child both fell victim to L’Manberg.

Y/N nodded, their head felt so much lighter it was almost an uncomfortable feeling “I’ll get home then. I apologize for the trouble and thank you for the help.”

The nature of the stares has changed. A small part in them was almost ecstatic that this wasn’t in vain. No more stares of hostility but rather sympathy. Y/N could work with that, right? So, why did they still feel so conflicted? Why was the pain in their chest still there?

Throwing away the blanket, Y/N tried to stand up but Quackity pushed them back down with a stern expression.

“Hey, Hey! What do you think you are doing?” surprisingly it was Fundy speaking up and it shocked Y/N.

Fundy noticed the pang of fear on their face and relaxed his features “I’m- I’m sorry. Just, you can’t walk around like this. You are seriously hurt, besides-“ He stopped himself.

Tubbo looked at Fundy only to switch back to Y/N “Besides, if what we think what happened, there is no way we can leave you alone like this.”

“No, No- I- No. No. I did that- I-“ Y/N was frantically stumbling across their words, letting their tears now freely running and yet they still put on a smile and looked Tubbo in the eyes “I’ll be fine. Thank you for patching me up. From here on out I’ll be fine.”

Phil sighed “Just accept their help. That’s why you did this in the first place, didn’t you? Ripping your horns off your head, so they would stop avoiding you.” Seeing all of them stumbling across their words he decided to just rip the band aid off.

When Y/N just stared at their lap and didn’t dare to look up as a response Quackity put one of his hands on their shoulder, blood still smeared on them from when he inspected the wounds.

“It’s true, isn’t it? What he said, it’s the truth. You realized we avoided you because your horns reminded us of Schlatt, right?”

It wasn’t really a question, since he knew the answer but he needed to hear it from them himself. He needed definitive proof that they did feel indeed desperate enough because of everyone’s actions to do this. To literally rip their horns off their body.

Y/N gulped. Their mouth opening and closing but no words came out. They took a deep breath in, squinted their eyes shut and softly nodded, muttering an almost inaudible “Yes.”

Now they couldn’t hold back anymore, breaking down into loud sobs and hiccups.

“This is bull shit!” Fundy exclaimed angrily. Quackity wanted to yell at Fundy, saying why in the world would he still act like that only to see tears now welling up in the Fox Hybrids eyes as well.

Tubbo had a shocked expression on his face, clasping his hands in front of his mouth.

Phil had his eyes closed, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Brows in a frown as he was deep in thought.

Tentatively Quackity put his other hand on the other shoulder of Y/N, slowly and softly pulling on them. They didn’t react at first but after a few moments they seemed to relax and lean in. Falling into Quackity’s chest.

Now sobbing and crying while he was slowly rubbing their back in an effort to console them.

He put his head on theirs, hoping it wouldn’t hurt them too much and whispered apologies.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry we did this to you. You made an effort to talk to us and we noticed but we still chose to just abandon you.”

Their cries increased. Letting out their pent up pain as Quackity held them securely in their arms. Feeling some kind of love and affection for the first time since forever.

Fundy slowly stepped towards Y/N, placing one of his hands on their back “I’m sorry as well. We fucked up. None of this is on you but on us.”

“And I’m sorry as well! I- I don’t know what I was thinking. It was horrible of us.” Tubbo added.

“I feel sorry for you Y/N that’s all I can say. To the others, now saying you are sorry isn’t enough. You need to prove it. Got it?” Phil lectured the group.

Tubbo nodded “Yes. For starters we can make sure they heal up well.”

It took a few minutes until Y/N seemed to slowly calm down again. They were still sobbing but their cries weren’t as loud anymore.

Quackity pushed them away from him and looked them into their eyes “Stay at my place. I’ll make sure you’ll be okay. It will take time and I know it will be work to earn your trust again but will you at least give us this last chance? Hell, you have probably given more chances for us than we will ever realize but still, will you let me, uh, us, do this? It’s okay if you don’t want to, or if you want someone else to help.”

It took Y/N a moment to realize what was happening and what he was proposing. Not only were all of them worried for their wellbeing but they apologized. They had to admit that they didn’t expect this. Honestly they just hoped that their horns would go and all was well. People would finally talk with them and not ask too many questions. Y/N would probably be able to come up with an excuse. Probably.

But to hear that this wasn’t their fault? That the others avoided them wasn’t their fault? Realistically they always knew it but they never really believed it a hundred percent, so to hear this was like someone lifted a huge weight off of their heart.

The other’s recognized that they were hurting. Their feelings wasn’t something they somehow made up. This was real. This was happening and the others acknowledged it.

“… Okay.”

Quackity and the other seemed to relax at that. He let go off them and Tubbo used this chance to give Y/N a short hug as well which made Y/N break down into cries again. Fundy cautiously sat down on the bed as well and wrapped one of his arms and tail around the two.

The group noticed pretty fast that this was something Y/N needed. A physical proof that they cared for them. Not just words, now they had to show action. This also meant to inform all of the others on the situation. Make sure they learned what has happened but only with Y/N’s consent and in a way they were okay with it.

But before all of that, they will make sure they were healing, physically and mentally. Something will probably never fully leave or heal but they will find a way. They had to.

Quackity was incredibly glad they took him up on the offer. After all they two went together through the same bull shit from Schlatt and he saw them once as family, so he felt it was his responsibility, now that Schlatt was gone, to take care of them.

“Thank you, Y/N for giving us this chance. We don’t deserve it but we will try our hardest.”

“I know, Quackity.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dsmp reader insert #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #fundy dsmp #itsfundy #quackity dsmp #quackity #tubbo #tubbo dsmp #philza #philza dsmp

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luvcherry · 3 years ago

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chatroom [9] ◇

Natasha Romanoff x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.1k.

Part Eight || Part Ten

Chatroom Masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Natasha continue their trip and enjoy each other’s company alone.

Content: age gap, some angst, fluff, smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI), semi-public sex, fingering, tribing.

A/N: One more chapter left of Chatroom! This one is pretty lighthearted to prepare for the calm before the storm 🤓

Natasha told her that burnt toast is the best way to eat. Y/n thought they were too charred to even eat but her girlfriend convinced her otherwise. She giggled while she explained how browner the perfect toast is with such conviction. It felt silly but Natasha talked so passionately about it as if someone had told her all her life she was wrong about her opinion on bread.

And Y/n realizes what she likes most about Natasha. It was silly to see the admirable trait of being passionate come through when she’s talking about bread, but Y/n is certain that she could talk about paint drying on a wall and she’d look at her with stars in her eyes. She has a passion that Y/n has never witnessed herself — a lust for life if you will. The people around her are exploring life, but there is just something so attractive about a person who has it together while not being solely tied down to their career every waking moment. It seems more meaningful than the trap of college life where you’re trying to party hard yet come out of college unscathed. Natasha has direction in her life, something that feels hard to grasp in the throes of college and preparing yourself for life beyond while in a totally new environment.

Y/n would like to feel like she has her life together someday. She never worried or thought about that until she met Natasha. Her main concern prior to this relationship was finding herself and being able to open — she feels like she has been able to do that with this relationship. However, she’s still in college where her life feels a little bit jumbled.

She is aware that right now she fits into Natasha's life as much as a square peg fits into a round hole, but she hopes that doesn’t deter her from wanting to be with her. Aspects of their lives and personality make them incompatible, but there are so many great things that keep them bonded together. If both of them can just hold on for a little longer then things will fall into place.

“What do you want to do today?”

Natasha's voice cuts through her thoughts and Y/n had no clue she was just staring at her as she sat across from her. She tries to play it off, hoping that she hadn’t been caught. She just looks so good in her morning attire with the scratchy voice to match.

“I don’t know…what do you have planned for us?”

“Well we could go down to the river nearby. It’s not warm enough for a swim, but it’s still beautiful down there. Or we could go hiking. Either one sounds fine to me.”

“I wanna go hiking! I’ve never been to the dunes but Amy told me that they’re so beautiful and I gotta see it.”

“Then we’ll do that,” she tilts her head to see the clock on the stove that reads ‘11:23’, “we can head out at 1. That’ll give us plenty of time to get ready.”

Natasha gets up and walks over to Y/n’s side of the table and kisses the top of her head. In front of her was a plate of the simple breakfast she made for them. There wasn’t much to work with in the house. Natasha appreciated the effort. It was a new experience for her to wake up to noises coming from the kitchen and the smell of food in the air. It felt oddly domestic which was both comforting and frightening for her.

After last night, Natasha decided that she wasn’t going to bring up her feelings or acknowledge them for the entire trip. Y/n deserves the peace of knowing that her girlfriend does indeed like her. She feels guilty about the birthday fiasco, but Y/n acts like everything is fine so she decides it’s not worth bringing up on the trip. Y/n only acts like there isn’t an obvious problem because she’s clueless about how relationships work. Sometimes Natasha wants to be blunt with her. Y/n should be mad at her, she should want to stick up for herself and call her out. Every second that passes where she doesn’t do that Natasha feels like pushing her to do so, but she feels like that would do more harm than good. There is just no gentle way to confront reality and it sucks. She wishes she would have never been selfish in the beginning.

Natasha has to force herself to quit from thinking about exactly what she told herself to avoid. She doesn’t want to ruin this trip because of pessimism. Instead she turns her focus to packing for their hike. It’s not a hot day, but she wants to be prepared. It’s Y/n’s first time visiting the dunes and she doesn’t want it to be a bad experience. She contemplates packing one of the toys her eyes gloss over. She has a few that she hasn’t used on Y/n just yet and she’s excited to explore during this trip. However she decides not to pack one of their toys for now. She can’t promise herself that the outing will be completely innocuous, but she’s already equipped with what she needs to get her girlfriend off. The dunes are nearby and she can’t wait for Y/n to see them. She’s sure that she’ll love it and she hopes it can give them the much needed peace deserved after the last two weeks.

“How close are we?”

“Less than a mile baby.”

Y/n wanted to groan but she feels like she's complained enough already.

The forecast had lied to them and it was warmer than expected. Y/n was wearing a sweater, the one with Natasha’s alma mater on it, when they first began their journey on one of the dune trails. Now it’s tired around her waist and she’s in a sports bra. It’s a little bit too small for her and it’s very noticeable. She only wore it because she didn’t think she’d have to take her sweater off. Natasha felt childish for ogling her tits, but Y/n is her girlfriend after all and she just can’t help but to stare at what’s hers.

They’ve been walking for a good 30 minutes. Y/n was growing exhausted, but Natasha wanted to show her something. She promised her that the work it takes to make it to their destination will pay off and Y/n hopes it’s true. They pass by multiple mile markers and Y/n counts down until they finally reach the next full mile. The trail breaks off into two separate ones. Y/n is about to walk down the one on the left before Natasha stops her.

“Here.”

Natasha grabs Y/n’s hand and leads her to the trail on the right. Y/n is a bit worried that a lot more walking is ahead of them, but she sees that the trail has reached a dead end. It’s not really a scenic area so Y/n is sort of confused as to why Natasha really wanted them to come to this spot.

“We can take some time to rest here. I doubt anyone will stumble upon us — plus we get this view.”

Natasha points to the vast opening where they can see the Earth stretch out for miles and miles. They can see the other trails and so much more. Y/n has never considered herself an outdoorsy person but Natasha didn’t lie when she said this would be perfect.

After just staring at the landscape beyond her for a few minutes, she turns to Natasha and sees that she has set up a blanket on the ground for them to sit on.

“Come sit with me,” she pats the space beside her.

Y/n happily walks over and sits down. She’s grateful for Natasha packing all the stuff she did or else this would be a much more miserable time. There is even more water than she has in her water bottle and a few snacks. Y/n’s hand is reaching for the grapes and she quickly opens up the baggy before popping a few in her mouth.

“So…how do you like the view?”

“It’s perfect,” Y/n says after swallowing what was left in her mouth, “how many times have you been here?”

“Countless times. I would always come with friends, or by myself, but never with someone I’ve dated.”

The revelation makes Y/n feel special. She doesn’t make a big deal of the comment but she keeps it stored away in her mind.

“I love the city, don’t get me wrong, but this is perfect. When I get old and retire someday I want to leave the city. I don’t know if I’ll necessarily move close out here or out of state, but I want to spend the last of my days out by nature.”

“Really? I guess I haven’t thought about that far out in my life.”

“If you live more than five years in the city, then you’d get what I’m saying.”

Y/n lived in the suburbs all of her life so city life was a foreign thing to her. All of her treks to see Natasha and going into the city made her feel oddly mature. Her parents told her cities are so dangerous and filled with rude people, but she’s never encountered any of that. The city was colorful and filled with so many different people. She found Natasha to be so lucky that she could step outside her apartment and have countless options for things to do on a day off. Y/n has been looking up schools in the city for that very reason. She almost considered transferring in the middle of her undergraduate years, but it’s just easier to wait until she graduates. She hasn’t said anything to Natasha about it because she’s unsure of how she’ll react. Would her close presence be unwanted? It’s hard to find the answer, especially after the last two weeks.

“I can tell when you’re thinking,” Natasha teases her. She leans back and props herself up on her elbows, “it’s written all over your face whenever you’re thinking too much.”

“Is it that obvious?” Y/n giggles as she lays down next to Natasha.

An arm wraps around her shoulder and draws her in closer. Everything feels perfect — almost like it did in the beginning. Y/n forgets about the problems of the last two week, in fact she thinks about any and all of the problems they’ve had. It all feels so small and asinine now. Y/n loves Natasha so much that she’s willing to look past the petty stuff. It’s finally set in that she’s in love with her girlfriend and now it’s time to move through life together. Y/n wants to know so much more about Natasha. She feels like she’s always talking about her life and her past, but barely knows about Natasha besides the small tidbits from casual conversation.

“Did you like doing this kind of stuff when you were a kid?” Y/n asks, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes. My parents would take me camping. It was one of the few times I felt like I was able to be a kid. I used to get made fun of by my classmates that I didn’t know how to skip rocks, but I learned how to on my very first camping trip. It’s so stupid, but stuff like that really makes you feel alienated when you’re a kid who doesn’t know better.”

Y/n could relate so much to Natasha’s upbringing so she wonders why she doesn’t open up about it much. It could be hard for her to do, but Y/n understands what she went through.

“That was me but with crayons. My parents wouldn’t give me the big 48 pack of crayons while everyone else had them. They thought it would make me ‘spoiled’ and turn into a brat. In hindsight it’s was such a small thing to be upset about but I was in 1st grade and it felt like the end of the world for me.”

“Most of it was small silly stuff, but that denial of small things snowballs into bigger things,” Natasha inhales deeply, “let’s change the subject. We’re out here and it’s so beautiful, let’s not ruin that.”

Y/n nods her head. She doesn’t believe that opening up is going to “ruin” their time out here, in fact she thinks it’ll bring them closer, but she doesn’t protest. Besides, she has no choice but to not talk about it when Natasha kisses her.

It was mostly to placate her. She doesn’t want Y/n to think she’s trying to shut her down, but now is just not the time to talk about those things. She feels Y/n melting underneath her and she feels like her mission has been accomplished.

“You’re so pretty,” Natasha says between kisses. Y/n hums into the kiss and arches her back to press her body closer to Natasha. Y/n hoped that this spot is as secluded as Natasha said because it would be embarrassing to be caught like this.

Natasha’s hands rested idly on her sides before she began to tug at her leggings. The action was making Y/n wet because she knows exactly what Natasha wants. She wants her too and the thrill of doing something so private out here makes her feel delirious with lust. Natasha places her head in her neck and begins to suck on her skin. Y/n sighs and whimpers when Natasha nips at the most sensitive parts of her skin.

A hand snakes between them and Natasha applies pressure to Y/n’s clit through her leggings. Those little gasps and sighs of pleasure are heavenly to her. She’s obsessed with getting Y/n off so much that it makes her impatient. She’s eagerly tugging at her leggings while still kissing her neck.

“Natasha,” Y/n whimpers. Everything was happening so fast and she couldn’t stop it. But she didn’t want it to stop. This is Natasha’s way of showing her love. It becomes increasingly obvious that it’s not easy for Natasha to open up, but she shows it physically and that’s enough for Y/n.

Natasha pulls away from her neck and sits up on her knees. She removes her own t-shirt to reveal her sports bra. She grabs Y/n's bra before Y/n is taking it off herself. The warm air hits her tits and instantly hardens her nipples. Y/n groans as she feels them pebbling. Natasha grabs the sweater around her waist and Y/n assumes she’s going to discard it somewhere but she instead places it over her head.

“I want you to wear it,” Natasha declares. Seeing Y/n in her clothes turns her on so much. It’s a little too warm to be wearing it, and their activities are going to heat her up even more, but Natasha is too selfish right now.

Y/n puts it on and it covers her up but it doesn't deter Natasha from reaching underneath her shirt and squeezing her tits. Y/n's sighs get a little bit louder, especially when Natasha's fingers swipe across her hard nipples.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Y/n nods her head while biting down on her bottom lip.

Natasha gets Y/n's leggings off leaving her in just her underwear. Natasha is still partially clothed, but Y/n begins to tug at her sweat pants.

"You're just so eager," Natasha teases her for being hasty just like she is. It's all lighthearted because once Natasha gets Y/n's panties off she's not going to be able to control herself.

"I don't want to be the only one naked," Y/n says with a pout.

Natasha gives her what she wants and takes her sweatpants off, but she quickly turns the attention back to Y/n. She hooks her fingers in the elastic and pulls her underwear off. Now she's left in nothing but Natasha's college sweater. Her hair is a bit disheveled from their fumbling on the blanket. She looks so hot like this, but Natasha wants to make her look even more of a mess. She's possessive and likes to be reminded that she's the only one who does this to Y/n.

Y/n felt slightly vulnerable being exposed like this, but she feels safe with Natasha. Natasha grabs her hips and pulls her across the blanket. Y/n gasps at the sudden movement and those gasps turn to whimpers of pleasure when Natasha dips two fingers into her pussy.

"Oh my god," she whines.

She's reminded of what they did just the day before when Natasha pushes her fingers in deeper. Y/n is so wet, soaking every inch of her digits as she slowly pulls them in and out. Y/n is too embarrassed to look at herself getting finger fucked, but Natasha can't pull her eyes away. Her pussy is so deliciously warm and wet. Her slow pace is damn near tortuous but Natasha is having so much fun hearing Y/n whine and whimper like a bitch in heat.

"Your pussy is so tight. No matter how many times I stretch you out, your pussy is always wrapped so snugly around my fingers."

Y/n's body is heating up and it's not just because of the outside temperature. Natasha's fingers are somehow too much and not enough at the same time. She is constantly on a rollercoaster of emotions with Natasha's but the highs are so high.

"Natasha," Y/n whines again. It's like that's the only thing she can say because that is the only thing that matters.

The call of her name makes Natasha move her fingers in and out of her faster. She watches and hears the lewd sound of her fingers splashing in her wetness. Y/n's pussy is already creaming around her fingers and it really hasn't been that long. She just loves how responsive and needy Y/n gets.

As much as it's fun to turn her into an impatient mess, Natasha is becoming one herself. She pulls her finger out of Y/n's pussy and they're covered in her slick. She sits back so she can take her own pants off and her panties follow suit.

"W-What are you doing?"

This was something new for Y/n. Natasha straddled her and placed her legs around her legs to make them fit like a puzzle piece. She was rendered speechless when Natasha placed her pussy on top of hers. She was wet and sticky. Their arousals mix together as Natasha begins to swirl her hips so their clits can roll over each other. She grabs onto Y/n's leg tightly for leverage. Y/n has no clue what they're doing but it feels so good.

"Nothing feels better than your pussy on mine," Natasha confesses as her voice cracks. She feels like she's in heaven now. "So fucking wet for me."

Y/n was just laying there while Natasha did most of the work. She was so overwhelmed but Natasha was so much more composed than her. Y/n felt herself getting closer and closer every time Natasha moved her hips. She ground herself harder against Y/n's pussy, chasing her high as much as she was concerned with making Y/n cum.

"Pussy is so sweet baby," Natasha's voice is now whiny which matches Y/n's.

Her fast thrust makes Y/n's tits juggle underneath the sweater. Natasha nearly cums at the sight of those pretty tits jiggling under her sweater, her alma mater sewed proudly into the soft fabric. She's never felt so much pride in claiming someone as 'hers'. It's been a long time since she could say that. Flashes of regret hit her as she wishes she would have showed Y/n off at her birthday party. There are many things she could have done better, but Natasha can't fix it now. Sometimes it feels futile to do so.

"I'm gonna cum Natasha!"

Y/n's voice pulls her out of the daze. It was easy to get lost in contemplation when her hips were moving absentmindedly for her. But Y/n always somehow pulls Natasha into the reality where everything is fine. That clashes with the only reality that exists, but she can pretend until it becomes her reality because that's all she wants.

"Cum for me baby," Natasha leans down so her face was inches away from Y/n's face, but her pussy is still on Y/n's, grinding feverishly. "I want to feel you cum against me baby. You're so goddamn wet."

Y/n kisses Natasha with all the energy she has left in her. It's going to be so hard to trek back down that trail, but that's the bridge she'll cross when she gets to it. She's lost in the moment and the sweetness of her girlfriend's lips against hers. Their kiss is so soft and delicate compared to the rough and fast movements of their hips. Y/n cums first, moaning against Natasha's lips which sends a vibration throughout her body.

The feeling of Y/n's pussy gushing against hers triggers Natasha orgasms. She's the one who pulls away from the kiss so she can let out a strangled moan. She still grinds even as she grows sensitive. It's Y/n who is the one who stops them, her hands gripping Natasha's hips to bring her to a halt.

Natasha stops moving, but she rolls Y/n around so she's on top. Her lips are back on hers and she never wants them to part. She kisses her feverishly, her tongue sliding into her mouth. It's so lascivious that it makes the shy girl in Y/n all bashful. But the person on the outside is kissing back with so much passion. She's come such a long way and her being able to be comfortable with her sexuality is a big step for her.

They could go forever, and it almost seems like they're going to until a rock falls and makes both of them jump. Y/n yelps and Natasha looks in the direction of the fallen rock. When they realized it was just a rock and not a person, they relaxed. Y/n laughs at herself for getting all scared and yelping like that. Natasha joins her before she kisses her exposed collar bone.

"Was that good?" She asks against her skin.

"So good. It's always so good with you."

Hearing that makes Natasha's heart pump faster and she feels up with warmth. She's a grown woman but she feels like a teenager in love. It's scary that someone so young is able to make her feel like this.

That mere thought makes her become hesitant again. She pulls her lips away from Y/n's collarbone but she does it in a way that isn't sudden and won't worry Y/n. Her girlfriend has a big, satisfied smile on her face.

"I love being out here with you. I love this trip so far."

Y/n was fawning over the trip, and what they just did, but what she really wanted to say was that she loved Natasha. She just feels like it's too soon when considering their relationship. If they lived nearby and were able to function like a regular couple then she would have no problem saying it. It's been a little over a year of them being together, how could Y/n not love Natasha?

Natasha has strong feelings for Y/n too, but it takes her much more to say 'I love you'. She's only said it to one girlfriend and she truly meant it then. She still has love for that girlfriend, but she's not in love with her. She isn't in love with anyone, but Y/n brings her good feelings that she hasn't felt in a long time.

Her growing love for Y/n makes her believe that what Y/n wants is the opposite that she needs.

But, that is a problem for another day.

They're on a trip together, enjoying the beautiful view of the dunes and the surrounding nature. Nothing else matters. Whatever problems arise in the future will be addressed then. For now they just have each other and the silence that falls between them. That’s all they needed — a moment of stillness in the quiet chaos of their relationship.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff smut #MCU #mcu smut #mcu fanfic #mcu imagines #scarlett johansson characters #f/f #f/f smut #f/f fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel smut

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nolpat0 · 3 years ago

Text

love isn't enough | s. crosby

summary: they've decided to take a break to reevaluate their relationship but when she finally returns his text, things have changed

wc: 1,633

warnings: lots of angst ofc

The rough pad of Sidney's thumb brushes over the soft, smooth skin of her calf, a distracted, subconscious habit of affection he developed over the years he's known her. His coffee-hued eyes watch the flickering images of the daily news play across the large-screened TV, a crease forming between his dark brows as he drinks in the information humming in the background. Subconsciously, the flat of his palm presses harder into the unblemished flesh of her legs, prompting her watchful gaze to linger on his illuminated side profile in silent question. He's lost in the depths of his thoughts; his mind rolling around a specific worry. She wonders in hidden curiosity what's prompted the far-away look etched onto his strong features, and what it might be.

"Sidney?" she calls softly, her tone dulcet and calming, the edge of her fingers cascading over the broad flat of his shoulders, catching his attention.

His cinnamon-colored eyes burn into hers with a strange intensity that she's unused to. The edges of her chapped lips twitch as her mind snags on the intensity burning in his irises and what it means. Sidney's pink lips part, as if he's trying to form the words on his tongue and actually breath them to life. She can sense the wheels turning behind the gleam of his eyes, and it sets her nerves on edge, the soft material of his shirt sliding against her thighs as she props herself up, as if physically preparing for whatever he's about to confess.

"Is this it?" he breathes the words out slowly as if testing the way the syllables battle against the hum of the forgotten TV. The taught muscles of her shoulders drop in relaxation as her delicate, sleepy features twitch in a flicker of confusion.

"Is what it?" Sidney watches with a heavy expression as the edges of her lips curl into a confused, genuine smile that she usually gives him whenever his low, heavy-accented mumbles reach her.

Swallowing the sudden lump formed in his throat, Sidney steels himself, the tightening flicker in his strong jaw sending a new wave of apprehension through her tensed, upright body. The soft tips of her fingers fall from the thick material of his gray t-shirt and he feels the absence of her warmth-filled touch like an ache that's settled into the marrow of his bones. But he forces the sharp-edged words from his tight throat.

"Us. Are we gonna pretend that something isn't wrong here?" as soon as the words hit the air, Sidney knows they sound wrong; a cruel twist to the intended soft lilt of guilt. He's trying to plead with her, beg her to understand they want different things and the divergence is increasingly clear in every one of their late, star-lit, wine-fueled conversations. Sidney wants her to understand what he's saying, but the syllables rearranged themselves, sketching him the antagonist. The shock and waver of her easy expression rip through the soft tissue of his heart and burrows deep.

"I can't pretend if I don't know what's wrong, Sidney."

Her words are soft, a raw tenderness that almost has him flinching back, knowing he doesn't deserve the helpless look smoothing over her features or her permissive tone. She's giving him a chance to go back and restart his confession.

So he slides his hands against the smooth skin of her thighs, rough palms brushing against the worn fabric of his t-shirt that's draped over her figure until the curve of his fingers fits over hers. His dark eyes bore into hers, the quiver of his brows telling her how much he's hating the conversation.

"We want different things," he says firmly, his full lips drawn in a tight line. "Eventually," a whisper of a loose breath through teeth as he pulls together every loose, weakened string of himself and yanking them together so he can give her the graciousness of a soft, mutual goodbye. ".. we would've grown apart. Maybe we just need to step back and evaluate what we want in life outside of each other, and then see if we can do those things together."

She takes in the serious, unrelenting tone of his firmly confident words, and understands this is what he must've whispered to himself over and over, selecting and choosing words to hand to her; to let her down easy. Before she gives in to the request, she allows her silver-lined eyes to drink in the curve of his full lips, the gleam of his caramel-hued eyes, the unruly angles of his midnight locks, and the sharp lines of his strong features. She quietly places each memorization in a specific category in her mind; saving the last, unblemished memory of her Sidney.

"Do you want that, Sidney?"

Another sharp whistle of his breath sounds as his chest contracts painfully, the arrow of her permissiveness twisting deeper, searing apart nerves and blood vessels. It's a necessary wound- for survival- but he wonders if it'll scar permanently and leave a sour taste between his molars and tongue. But he hates the ceaseless, aching feeling, the sorrowfully understanding look she's wearing, and the fact he has to do this.

"It'll only be a step back," he quickly assures, fingers tightening against the joints of hers, suddenly fearful that he won't know how to sleep between the cold sheets without the press of her cheek against his bare chest or her scent lingering in the gray bedding. Or that he'll find himself lost in the rows of the grocery store without the messy scrawl of her hand on brightly colored sticky notes clasped in his fist. The breath in his lungs is stolen at the future now clearly outlined; devoid of her silvery laughter and the wink of her smiling eyes.

"Step back?" she retracts slowly, the bones of her fingers sliding from his as she physically recoils at the words, brow creased in concern. "What does that even mean, Sid?"

"Just a few weeks- not even," his words curl into a panicked octave of heartache, the tips of his lashes beaded with unshed, salty tears.

"Weeks?"

Sidney hears the hopelessness laced in her disbelieving tone, and his breath hitches, now returned with a bruising weight as he feels the situation spin wildly out of his control. He watches the emotions flit across her face, the understanding ruining the last ruins of composure she has, releasing the tears she's fighting in minuscule rivers down her flushed cheeks.

"If you think it's best," she whispers, the subdued decibels yanking savagely at the carefully replaced strings of himself, threatening to break. Her silver-lined eyes slide to meet his, hardened and determined. "Maybe it'll be good."

Sidney nods quickly, his thumbs returning to their habitual place on the tops of her thighs, a comforting motion that they understand is a final goodbye. His soft lips press against the crown of her head, a proclamation of his love whispered in her hair, too quiet for her ears to pick up as he pulls away.

"Two weeks, okay?" he promises, the gravel lilt to his voice tenderly soft.

"Two weeks."

———

The unforgivingly promised timeline of their reunion expires sourly, the date pushed back in an anxiously guilty voicemail left on her phone in the early morning of the Sunday, explaining how even though Sidney detested the eerie silence that seeped into his apartment without her off-key humming, he needed to know she wasn't conforming to his futuristic dreams for the sake of not losing him. So she settled into the itchy, unfamiliar fabric of her couch, stretching out her legs, frowning at the absence of Sidney's fingertips, and packed her emotions in a flimsy cardboard box and hid it in the back of her closet in her mind, sending the dark-haired man a simple text allowing him his request and agreeing that maybe she did need to find out her own wishes.

———

He pressed the screen of his phone to the couch, red-rimmed eyes staring in an empty reverie at the blank screen, the familiar press of heartbreak on his sternum knotted his shoulders and ached in his rough palms. In these moments, he craved her presence; aching for her mid-night kisses against his temple when she woke up, or the scuff of her feet against the hard-wood as she moved down the hall, the tilt of her head as she sang along to the music she played when they cooked. In these moments, when he felt as if the very bones of his ribs were caving in and piercing his shattered heart, he wanted the press of her palm in his or the comfort of her words. But now, Sidney can't feel the warmth buzzing in his hands from her touch or the slide of her skin against his and he feels lost, disoriented without the steadiness of her unconditional love. He wonders what moment over the tedious course of two months was the one where he lost her.

His dark eyes flicker to the flipped-over phone laying on the couch's soft surface, the burn against his cornea's too much for him to fight, and he allows the salty flow of his tears to bring him to his knees. A shaky, broken breath surpasses his chapped lips as his lashes brush his cheek, guarding himself against the text of betrayal lingering on his phone. He tries to rid his mind of the memorized line of text, but the words cling to him, refusing to let him slip away from his misery.

You were right, Sidney. We don't want the same things, and sometimes, even love isn't enough.

Sidney desperately wished it wasn't true, and that they both ended up being right, but he couldn't run from the truth. Sometimes, love really wasn't enough.

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