#we’re back lads you ready for ANGST????

[s0fter-sin]

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Midoriya Izuku & Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Dabi | Todoroki Touya & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi, Tsukauchi Naomasa, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Nedzu (My Hero Academia) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Deaf Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Villain Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Past Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Fights, Fist Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic-centric, Hurt Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, no beta we die like sir nighteye Summary:

Hizashi is spiralling; his hero career is on the brink of collapse, no radio station will give him a shot and he isn’t sure how much more he can take.

When people start turning up beaten half to death, they lead him to an underground quirk fighting ring. Could it be the big break he needs to save his career or will the mysterious Referee show him something better?

[ell-alexanderarnold]

a new angst series? lots of emotions and forbidden relationship vibes? xx

Unforgettable

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

Summary: Y/n spends her summer with her boyfriend as usual but when she accidentally bump into a certain footballer in the club, her life becomes more difficult.

Angst & Fluff here and there

Warnings : This fic contains mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex and where the reader cheats, Trent toxic towards the end?. Tell me if missed anything x

Note: Back with a new series! This is my first request also so let me know your thoughts 💭

“And you are unforgettable, I need to get you alone”

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The summer has just started and as usual you and your boyfriend Jacob went to London to start off the summer break. You went there with no expectations just a chill start off the summer, going out clubbing, eating nice food at luxury restaurants - you name it.

But it’s not as funny as it sounds. Your relationship with Jacob is very difficult. You met each other when you were in middle school and since then you have sticked together, but your love for him were more passionate and stronger when you were younger. Now it’s more about having a boyfriend and company, you have lost feelings a long time ago. You don’t have the guts to break up with him and it’s becoming really frustrating. You’re taking one day at the time, hoping you’ll leave this summer without him.

It’s been a few days and all you’ve done is laying in your hotel room.

“Wanna go out tonight?” You asked Jacob whilst you were scrolling on your phone.

“Really? We just arrived maybe we can relax a little bit first” He answered.

“Yeah but it’s so boring” You uttered. You got up from the bed and went out on the balcony for some fresh air. In fact it was boring, Jacob was a very laid back person. You were the opposite, you really don’t know how you two get along.

You stood watching the city life when Jacob came up to you and hugged you from behind.

”Let’s go out then” He whispered in your ear and you immediately got excited and rushed back inside.

About 30 minutes after that you were all ready for the night. You and Jacob got an Uber with some other friends to the club that you were going to.

When you arrived there was people everywhere and loud music playing, you couldn’t hear yourself think. You and your friend Amelia sat down at bar and ordered drinks.

“So how’s the love life going?” Amelia asked and took a sip of her drink.

“Love life?” You chuckled.

”Yeah you and Jacob” She said as you turned your head to spot him in the crowd of people but you didn’t find him.

“We’re just staying together for one reason I guess” You shrugged, your friends knew that you and Jacob only were together because you’ve known him for so long and that it would be chaos if you left him, because you two are the couple who everybody always known about.

“Well I know how it is, when I left my long term boyfriend I was happier than ever. Look at me now, I’m living my best life” Amelia explained.

”Only if it was that easy” You sighed.

“It is trust me, just leave him girl” She asserted and now you felt dumb for still being with him after all this time.

“I’m going to find some lads” Amelia said.

“Alright, have fun” You replied and she got up from the bar. She turned around and spoke up

“And remember Y/n, live a little! Forget Jacob for a moment”

You nodded slightly and she left. Now you were sitting all alone in the club on a summer night. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you should be dancing with your friends and fun with Jacob.

You: Where are you???

Jacob: I’m havinf dun withg some mates

You scoffed at his message, Jacob was clearly drunk and you couldn’t be bothered. Instead you ordered more drinks for yourself.

You sat there for a while and suddenly you noticed someone sit down next to you. The guy seemed very pretty and his skin was glowing in the dark lights.

But you pushed the thoughts aside of the man who were sitting next to you, you have had one drink too many and a big headache.

“Fuck” You mumbled whilst you opened your phone, Jacob had posted multiple photos on his insta story while he was drunk, you just couldn’t stand being his girlfriend anymore.

“Can I help you?” Someone said, you looked up to see it was the man who sat next to you. His eyes met yours and you struggled to find words.

“Ehm” You voiced.

“Ehm, that’s not an answer” He said and smirked.

“Yeah sorry no, I don’t need your help” You shared and took a sip of your drink although you didn’t want more.

“Right, why haven’t I seen you before?” He told you, making your mind more confused as you still tried to find the words. It was hard to focus on him because of your state of mind.

“Probably ‘cause I’m not from here”

“I’m not from here either” He explained.

“Okay so where you from then?” You asked him.

“Liverpool” He revealed and then you immediately realised who you were talking to.

“Wait up, am I talking to Trent Alexander-Arnold?”

“You sure are” Said Trent and you were shocked, you couldn’t believe you sat here drunk and miserable talking to him.

“Ugh I’m way too drunk for this” You mumbled under your breath.

“So what are you doing here in London?” Trent asked and looked you up and down.

“I’m here spending the summer with some friends” You replied without mentioning Jacob.

Your conversation with Trent went on well, he told you all about his life as a professional footballer and many more things. You found him to be a really laid back person, which you didn’t expect of him. He seemed interested in what you talked about, his eyes were on you the entire time you spoke.

You were drowning in his brown eyes, you knew the feeling that was going through your body. You were falling for him.

You: Help I’m here talking to this footballer

Amelia: Omg! Who?

You: Tyrone? No wait I’m going to ask for his name again

”Your name was Trent right?” You questioned, feeling dumb for forgetting his name. But it wasn’t easy when your thoughts were everywhere at once.

“Yeah and yours?“ Trent wondered.

“Y/n”

“Y/n, that’s a beautiful name” He praised, you turned away so he could not see your cheeks turn red.

”I’m going to dance, wanna join?” You asked him as you got up from the bar, fixed your dress and Trent looked you up and down, again.

“I’m not much of a dancer, but I’ll do it for you” Trent shared and you smirked at him and took his hand out on the dance floor.

There were still many people in the club and it felt like the time stopped when you danced with Trent, he had his hands around your waist which filled your whole body with butterflies. As you danced together he whispered in your ear

“You look good in that dress”

His whisper sent chills down your spine and you wanted to get closer to him. Now you were face to face, only a small distance to close the gap between your lips. You inhaled his perfume and it made your brain go fuzzy. But immediately the thought of Jacob rushed through your head and that wasn’t supposed to happen, not when you tried to drink the feelings away.

But thank God the kiss didn’t happen even if you wanted to because suddenly Amelia joined you.

“Where the fuck have you’ve been?” You bellowed and Trent let go off you whilst you tried to hear Amelia. The music was getting louder and louder, minute by minute.

“I told you I was going to fetch some lads!” Amelia asserted, her eyes widened at the man who was standing next to you.

“Look what you have found here Y/n” She beamed as you furrowed your brows at her.

“I gotta go to the restroom, yous two have a talk” You said and left the dance floor.

-

Trent POV

When you left, Trent’s thoughts were all over the place. He kept thinking about you. What if you went to the restroom and never come back? He didn’t even take your number. All those what if’s was driving him crazy, he decided to have a talk with Amelia, hoping to get to know you more.

“How long have you’ve been friends with her?” He asked.

“Are you asking me?” Amelia wondered, surprised that he was talking to her.

“Y/n, for about three years maybe” She answered.

“Nice, you know if she got a boyfriend or anything?” Trent implored, he was desperate to know even if you didn’t mention Jacob before.

“Yeah, she hasn’t told you that?” Amelia uttered as she laughed watching Trent’s face turn into frustration.

“No, she didn’t” He simply said, watching you struggle to get past the crowd of people.

“Well, I’ll guess you’re stuck then. You never know with her” Amelia shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Trent questioned, eyes on you and Amelia at the same time.

“She’s trying to get rid of him, take your chance” She said as you finally manage to get back to your best friend and your new “friend”.

-

“I’m back, what did you two talk about?” You said as you looked at them both. Amelia gave Trent a look to not say anything about him knowing about the boyfriend.

“Oh we just talked about how we got to know each other” Amelia explained.

-

At this point you were so dizzy and wanted nothing more than to crash in your hotel room. And that’s exactly what you did, but it wasn’t your hotel room. It was Trent’s. How’d you manage to end up here you didn’t know but things escalated quickly and you were in his bed. You were exhausted but seemed to please him anyway and you could’ve swear that he pleased you as well, there was no hiding in that.

You laid beside him and couldn’t sleep even though you were so tired.

“I’m really glad I met you Y/n” Trent spoke up and stroke his hands through your hair.

And this is where Trent’s mission started. He wanted you, only you and was going to make sure that he claimed you from Jacob like a prize. Because he’d never met someone like you before, someone with so much light in their eyes and a beauty like no other.

You didn’t know what you were getting into, but it felt right. Trent felt right.

—

10 missed calls from Jacob

7 messages from Jacob

You woke up to see all the missed calls and messages on your phone, you groaned and pulled the duvet over head.

The realisation of knowing that your clothes that Trent took off of you last night were all over the floor and all of your other clothes in your suitcase at your hotel made it worse. You thought that you were not returning back to Jacob with the dress on from last night, that was just not going to happen. So you thought why not ask the man who was laying next to you for some clothes?

“Trent” You whispered and nudged him lightly, he was still asleep and he looked like an angel. But he didn’t wake up so you tried again but this time you pecked his cheek.

“Y/n” He hummed, stretching his arms and rubbed his eyes.

“Slept good huh?” You giggled, making him smile as he looked at you with his sleepy eyes.

“I was just wondering if I could borrow some clothes from you, kinda don’t want to show up to the hotel with my dress from last night.” You began, you were nervous. What if he says no?

“Yeah sure there’s some sweats and a hoodie in the bathroom” He simply answered, making all of your stress fade away.

“Thanks, now look away” You put forth, you didn’t want him to see your body on full display.

“Like I didn’t see you all naked last night but okay” He teased and laughed, buried his face in the pillow to show that he didn’t look.

When you went into the bathroom the clothes were laying there, you put them on. It was a black Under Armour hoodie that smelled like him, you were going to get used to that scent. You just didn’t know it yet.

You walked out the bathroom and Trent was smiling to see you wearing his clothes.

“It looks better on you than it does on me” He claimed.

“Really?”

“Really”

You collected your clothes from last night on the floor and got ready to leave. You were dreading it, you didn’t want to leave Trent. You wished you had more time with him but it wouldn’t work because you had to be there for Jacob, and in his books your heart belongs to him. You gave your heart to Jacob but you want to claim it back and give it to another person. A person who you only met last night, who has a hold on you that no one ever has had before.

“I’m leaving now” You told him.

“Was I better than him?” Trent teased and it made your heart skip a beat as you stood by the door feeling like a fool. It just came out of the blue, how did he know? Fuck, there’s no going back now you thought.

“What are you on about?” You implored as you let out a small laugh.

“Don’t act stupid, I know about him Y/n” He nagged and looked deep into your eyes as you stood there silent with no words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He implied.

“I don’t like him Trent.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Trent went on whilst you were starting to lose your temper, you didn’t want to mess up your only chance with him.

“I’m not talking with you about this, we only met yesterday Trent. I’ll sort it out with Jacob later, okay?”

“Jacob, that’s his name?” He snapped.

“Yes, can I go now?” You announced, Trent got up from the bed, shirtless and approached you. He got closer and closer until your lips were inches apart from each other.

“Tell Jacob that you’re leaving him and afterwards, you call me” He whispered against your lips and then kissed you.

After that, you walked out of his hotel room with a head full of thoughts that will probably keep you up many nights ahead…

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Part 2 coming next week hopefully :D

[wjehfshs]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request this idea with male reader who used to be in a relationship with Makarov, like what would the 141 team be like if they found out about reader past with him and not good one like abusive but they managed to get away and change their identity kinda thing? And that's how they managed to join the 141.

How they find out is all up to you

I love all your ideas oml

Mentions of reader being abused, Soap and reader arguing, hint of trauma mention, comfort, angst

Arguing with your teammates was very rare, at least for you, but it was always scary

It brought back memories

The 141 knew you had been in a relationship before coming here but that’s it

They never knew who or why you two broke up

You had actually never argued with them until now

“Christ, lad, you can’t just run out like that, you coulda gotten killed!” Soap scolded you

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to” you said in a meek voice, head down, hands clasped together

“Look at me when I’m talking to you! Lad you nearly got blown up! You can’t be so stupid we could’ve lost ya for fucks sake!” You knew Soap was just stressed, he cared for all of you deeply and the thought of losing any of you made his heart ache but it’s words hurt more

You couldn’t help it let tears well in your eyes, body shaking, head throbbing

You looked up at him after wiping your tears discreetly

The rest of the team looked on quietly, all stressed and awkward

“Why are you so quiet? Answer me!” Soap stepped forward to you to try and out a hand on your shoulder

He had no intention to hurt and you knew that but your instinct made you back up and throw your hands up to defend yourself, covering your face and chest

Everyone seemed to notice this

They all paused as your breathing became rapid and your heart jump to your throat

Then came the cliché line

“Did that bastard hurt you?” Referring to your anonymous ex

You didn’t see who asked you but from the Manchester accent it was obviously Ghost

Your breath was still rapid and your body ready to either run or fight

You eventually shrugged, not wanting to say yes, fearing it be too much for you, but not wanting to say no, as you wanted to tell someone, to reach out for help

“[name]… what happened?” Price asked you cautiously

You couldn’t speak, your whole body tense

“Lad, I would never hurt you, not like that bastard” Soap whispered

You nodded

There was silence before Gaz spoke up “what was his name?”

You felt your heart drop from your throat to your stomach

Before taking a deep breath you spoke up

“Makarov…”

You knew they would hate you for this

“The Makarov?” Ghost asked

You nodded “but he forced me to I had no choice he said he would hurt me if I didn’t” you desperately tried to explain

Before you knew it Soap hugged you

“It’s ok lad, we know you would never do something like that, I’m so sorry you went through that, you didn’t deserve that” he comforted you

You stammered before breaking down

“I had to run away, change my name, hair, everything” you sobbed into his shoulder “I was so scared” he let you soak his shirt in tears and snot, at this point all that mattered was your safety

“Oh [name]” Soap held you tightly

You pulled away and wiped your face, sniffling

They all engulfed you in a group hug, their holds suffocating you

“He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re safe, we’re sorry we got angry, we where just worried about you” Price comforted you

For the rest of the day they babied you, even if you told them you where fine they did everything for you, tending to even the smallest of your wounds, washing your clothes etc

They just loved you so much and really thought (knew) you deserved the world

[myfandomprompts]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟒)

Synopsis: You are a French girl that had the opportunity to teach in Manchester, and you had been lucky enough to be granted a bed at the Bennett’s place. As Europe is on the brink of war, you start to worry for your family back at home, and you are surprisingly consoled by the one man of the house you would never have thought capable of landing you an ear. It’s not that you like Tom, is it?

Previous Part - Masterlist

Tags: angst, fluff

A/N: Sorry for my long absence, but until July I am swamped. I should be working instead of writing but here I am. There is work in the do, another Aemond fic among others things, but I'll try to finish this one first. And I am not forgetting the other work I promised to some of you. Thank you to @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan & @babyblue711 for awesome beta reading. Enjoy.

French spoken -> italics

It was a terrifying thing to witness. 

Mass and queues of thousands of men waiting on the sand with the hope of being evacuated upon the Channel before the Germans broke the last lines of defence. And Tom had only one job: bring back as many as possible to the destroyer and manage to make it home.

“Come on lads!” he shouted against the wind. “Fritz is due to call again soon, and he won’t be selling ice creams!”

Then a bloke with a thick eastern accent tried to board the barge, a wild look in his eyes as he approached the boat. “You cannot stop me,” he spat as Tom pushed him away, telling him off. 

“Oh, yeah? I can with this, mate,” he replied, drawing his handgun and pointing it at him.

Tom didn’t want to be here. Every minute he spent away from home felt like part of himself was betraying him, his father’s look as he refused him fresh on his mind, as well as the discussion with you. He had a task to accomplish, and even though he understood why this guy wanted to flee, he could not let him. Who did he think he was? 

He tried to explain why he couldn’t board with them, but the wild look in the man’s eyes grew more determined. He was not giving up, Tom reckoned.

“I’m ready for death.” 

But neither was he. “We’re all fucking ready for death mate! We’re all ready for death.” 

Because life was apparently set to make him feel like he was in hell.

“Shoot me!” the man screamed and Tom had widened his eyes a little before finding his cocky expression again, refusing to let compassion take the better of him before the blond-haired man's desperation. Because every second he was spending on French soil infuriated him, wishing that the aching in his chest would disappear and be replaced by the usual soldier dread or determination his mates all seem to possess, like that eastern man obviously had. 

Instead Tom was doing everything he could to get you out of his head, one way or another, and being geographically close to you did not help, at all.

“Right, behave, lads! Any more hassle and I’ll be going home with a boat half-full!” he shouted at the beach, the feeling of his gun heavy in his hands as the blond boy was shoved away.

Then that sound. That shrilling howl, that recognisable whistling that meant death filled the beach and all looked up. Several Stukas, Luftwaffe’s most dreadful aircraft were diving on them, dropping bombs and shooting away.

Everybody around him started to shout and move, panic taking over the entire beach as he saw the bombers dive one by one. Tom felt his whole body fill with dread, the same feeling he had had on the Graf Spree as it got bombed kicking in and the next minute he was running, sprinting among the soldiers and the fire raining down on them. 

He had said he was ready for death, but as it came nearer and nearer his need to escape it only grew stronger. That would not be how he ends, not how he parted with his father. With you.

So Tom ran. And Tom fell.

The Nazi flag that hung below l’Arc de Triomphe was flapping against the warm wind of June like it belonged there, red, black and white flashing against the blue of the sky. Behind it marched hundreds of German officers who were parading on the Champs-Elysées with arrogance under the sour gaze of the Parisians that had enough courage to leave their home to witness their entrance.

But Paris felt empty, most of its inhabitants had fled when the capital had been declared an open city a few days prior, the government relocating to Bordeaux the next day as the threat of a German bombing loomed over it. What was left of the French forces was only a deformed mass, scattered across the North of France as soon as the German had pushed through the Meuse and Sedan, trapping them between them and the sea. Many died as they covered the evacuation of Dunkirk, some even lucky enough to reach English shores when the remaining troops were either taken prisoners or killed. Only a few had managed to come back, either wounded or forced to take the German’s advancement by speed as they tried to reach Paris.

But Paris was now occupied, left defenceless as the exodus carried on. And there you were, in the city since the start of May, learning day after day of news of defeated battles and death, heart falling in your chest as the enemy crept closer. 

It was upon your return from England that you had decided to go to Paris, after you had found your parents and after they told you that your brother had enrolled in the army back in January and hadn’t come back. An argument ensued in which you blamed your parents who had hidden this from you in order to have you stay in Manchester, feeling betrayed and left out by their omission. So you had packed and headed for the capital only a few days before the Germans had crossed the Maginot Line and put the whole country in disarray.

If your brother was to appear somewhere, you hoped it would be there. You would not sit back and wait for him to appear or not appear. You would not wait to learn of his imprisonment or death comfortably with your parents. You would not experience the same feeling you had had when Tom Bennet, whose blue eyes and wry smile haunted you every day, had been away at sea.

As he surely was now.

You sat down in your tiny flat and, feeling like it was for the millionth time, began writing the same words at the top of the paper again: Dear Tom, Then, after two minutes of agony you crunched up the paper into a ball and threw it in the bin atop of the rest.

It had been months, and you doubted that you would ever be able to put your thoughts into words, what you wanted to say to him. You felt that a letter was not enough, and it surely was.

You weren’t even sure it would reach him.

If he was still alive.

"They dismissed you? Just like that?"

"They didn't really have any choice. The Germans do not care about a shabby café, they prefer three stars restaurants."

It was several days after the German parade and you had just entered the American Hospital to find Henriette, catching her on her way to the office in order to enter new deaths to the registry. 

Just in time.

“If you aren’t able to work anymore, you should leave Paris. Maybe go to the zone libre,” she suggested to you as she washed her hands thoroughly in a tiny sink.

“No, if I want to have a better chance at finding my brother, it’s here in Paris. No matter how much I hate being here,” you said, looking around to witness some Nazi officers stroll the corridors. You lowered your voice. “You should be the one leaving. Go in the countryside, not… staying among them.”

Henriette looked at you terrified as she glanced at the Nazis disappearing beyond the halls, then she gave you a frantic shake of her head. Your friend was Jewish, and you were awfully worried for her since the Germans’ arrival, the anti-Semitic ideas they brought with them spreading at an alarming rate.

“My duties are here and I am helping people, the ones who fought for us,” she answered as she went to the desk to grab the log book. “Even when some are ungrateful, might I add. Always feels rewarding when they are getting better.”

You eyed the book in her hands before giving her a short smile. “Men giving you a hard time, then? Hope it’s not the doctor,” you winked, aware of your friend's crush on the American.

She gave you a scolding smile. “Non. Some British guy who was very unhappy to be in Paris. Just, straight rude, called Jacques a coward. He did not like it,” she scoffed.

“Right, I swear they aren’t all like that," you laughed, picturing in your head a man like Tom doing the exact opposite of what you were claiming British people didn’t do. You tried to ignore the pang of guilt and longing you felt thinking about him again, a daily struggle, “What’s an English man doing here anyway? Prisoner?” 

“Wounded at Dunkerque and brought back, shot in the shoulder. That boy was a sacré numéro.”

But you were not listening to your friend saying that the soldier had been a handful, because your anguish was considerably growing at the sight of the papers she had mulled out of the drawer, drawing all of your attention to it.

“Je peux voir ?” you said, voice slightly trembling. Can I see?

Every week it was the same routine. Ever since you had settled in Paris, you visited the hospital where you knew your friend received a daily list of the deceased soldiers that had passed away in the hospitals of the area, and every few days you came and consulted said list, hoping that your brother’s name would not appear. You dreaded the day you would learn that he had indeed made it to Paris, only to die there.

Henriette sighed. “Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” she asked, assessing your worried eyes staring at her.

As an answer you just extended your hand so she would give you the list, and she reluctantly did. As your eyes travelled the papers, you heard Doctor O’Connor enter the room and greet you. You absent-mindedly greeted back, eyes not leaving the list of  names. 

“Are they gone?” Henriette asked Webster in English.

“Yes, the one that vomited was pretty eager to leave. I doubt they will ask to go downstairs again after that.”

You gathered they were talking about German officers that had visited earlier. They were everywhere, even in the last place you wanted them to be. You try not to let it get to you.

“Good,” your friend answered with a firm nod. “Because I don’t think I could pull another miracle like that next time.”

You were about to put the paper back down on the desk, relieved not to see your brother’s name written on it, when your eyes noticed something and your heart stopped.

No.

“Henriette?” you said in a voice you did not recognise, your eyes refusing to leave the piece of paper. “What did you say that English guy’s name was?”

Both the Doctor and your friend exchanged a look before answering. “Uh… Bennett, I think,” she said.

“Tom Bennett, Royal Navy,” finished Webster matter-of-factly while watching you with curious eyes. “Why, you know him?”

You looked up from the paper, feeling the world spinning. No, there was no way. 

“What did he look like?” you heard yourself ask, your voice barely audible as you felt your throat burn.

“British?” Webster answered with a scoff. “Blue eyes, blond hair, a pain in the ass. Big mouthed.” 

You felt your vision blur for the briefest moment before it cleared again, and you let out a trembling breath you didn’t know you were holding.

This wasn't happening.

You had to sit down, and when you reached the chair next to the desk you felt Henriette rush to your sides in order to ease you down.

“Y/N, qu’est-ce qu’il se passe? Do you know him?” she repeated in French, concern in her eyes as Doctor O’Connor was looking at you dumbfounded, a brow arched high on his forehead.

You struggled to speak, your eyes fixated on the ground. No…You needed more time.

“How…” you began, swallowing hard to control your tears from flowing, hand over your mouth. “…when did he die?” you asked, your voice escaping your throat with difficulty. It took everything you had not to close your eyes and not fall apart on the spot.

“Oh no, no he is not dead, Y/N,” said your friend as she took your hand gently. 

You glanced up at her. “What? But…” you stammered, looking at the paper you had put back on the desk with the names and back at her.

Doctor O’Connor seemed to catch up, closed the door and came to crouch next to you, lowering his voice as he spoke. “He is not, we only declared him dead so he would not be taken prisoner of war. We found a way for him to make it back home.”

You widen your eyes, not realising that they were wet from your own tears, heart beating hard in your chest. Tom Bennett was in the same building as you were.

Alive.

“What the fuck do you call this outfit? This your revenge?”

Tom had just grabbed the brown vest that looked like it had been lifted from a dead body from the male nurse. Jacques, he thought his name was, from what he had gathered when he had woken up five days earlier. 

When he was met with silence, Tom sneered. “I know you speak English, you understood full well when I was calling you a coward.”

Tom smirked at the man looking out of the window to see if the way was clear, but when the nurse stopped him from exiting the room and uncovered the stretcher near the shelves, Tom’s smirk fell as he understood the plan. 

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

Being rolled around in a stretcher was humiliating, but his desire to get away from this place and the stinkers that crowded it was worth this humbling experience, the prospect of even making it home in one piece, seeing his dad, Lois, and little Lois and Harry warming his heart a bit. 

He laid still, even when he felt the stretcher come to a stop and a German officer ask questions to his “saviour”. Minutes later, the ambient sounds of the hospital died and he felt the linen over him being lifted off.

“Fucking finally. Did you take the long road or something?” he asked, straightening his clothes as he got up and took in the small room he was in, dimly lit with only one window and chairs put up against the walls. “What now?”

He was satisfied to see the frustrated scowl on the man’s face but he soon noticed the way his eyes glanced over his shoulder. When he followed his gaze, Tom felt his heart stop altogether. "...Y/N?”

You were standing at a corner of the room, unmoving, your eyes roaming over him and Tom felt crushed under it for a moment before you suddenly moved. He barely had time to register it was really you before you crashed on to him with force, enveloping him in your arms. 

“Oi, careful there,” he winced with a scoff when he felt the pain that shot through his fresh wound at his shoulder. But he didn’t make any move to push you away as he felt your breath on his neck and your scent fill his nostrils, so familiar, so sweet. He had no choice but to assess that it was really you. 

You were finally in his arms. 

Well, almost. “Sorry! I didn’t think…” concerned, you pulled away from him, giving him space and making him instantly regret his words. “I know you’ve been shot, I was just so happy to see you…” 

“It’s ok. You can’t be as bad as a bullet,” he chuckled, taking in the way your cheeks reddened at his joke and eliciting a small smile on your lips.

He managed to stay still for only two whole seconds before pulling you back against him, willing to take everything you would give him, everything you were. Your warmth, your embrace, your presence. You were the first familiar face he had seen in weeks, and he was still processing that you were really here.

He felt your hands coming to rest on his back again shyly, taking care not to press against his shoulder and he exhaled in blissfulness. He held you close until a clearing of throat came from somewhere behind him. You both pulled apart to look at Jacques, hand on the doorknob and absolutely not ashamed to have ruined this moment.

“Hey, Y/N. Tell him that he must be in the hall at nightfall, the contact will wait for him there. Meanwhile, he must not move from here, it's too much risk, d'accord?"

Tom saw you frown. “Oui, understood. But I thought you spoke English, why don't you tell that yourself?"

"I don't have time to lose with that merdeux. He can already count himself damn lucky that O'Connor accepts to help him, and you seem to have things well in hand... So, all the better for me."

You chuckled dryly, your eyes lightening a bit as you did so, and Tom arched a brow on his forehead at that. What was so funny?

“Very well,” you replied as the man opened the door and made him stop when you thanked him with all of your heart. Jacques gave you a nod before barely granting a glance at Tom and left the room.

“What did he say?” inquired Tom as soon as the man had disappeared. 

“He said that you must meet the contact in the hall in about…” you eyed the clock that was hanging above the door, narrowing your eyes. “Two hours, when the sun will be down. It’ll be easier not to get spotted. The Germans are tense today, it is said that Hitler himself was in Paris this morning.”

Jacques’ interruption had you take a step back away from him and as Tom mourned your closeness, he was able to notice the way you shivered at the mention of the Fuhrer. His instinct instantly went to soothe you, but he stopped himself. The distant memory of the last time he saw you and the struggle he endured during this last month slowly came back, and he suddenly didn’t know how to act anymore.

All he knew was that he had been mad at you at some point.

“So it’s not you, huh? The contact,” he said, putting his hands in his pocket bitterly. “Seemed too good to be true.” 

You must have seen his mood change on his face because you brought your arms to cross them over your chest protectively in reaction.  “No… I know my way around, but I don’t have the means to go to Spain,” you tried to joke with a smile, but it didn’t stick.

Instead, Tom felt everything he had on his heart slowly takes over. “I came for you, you know,” he said, not leaving your gaze. “Back in Manchester. I came back to your flat, but you were already gone. No goodbyes, no letters, nothing. You said three days.”

He watched as your eyes filled with guilt instantly, making him want to take back what he had just said, make you understand that it was all because he had been miserable. 

But it was too late. “I thought it would be better that way, for everybody. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry…” he nodded, tongue pressing against his inner cheek in animosity. “You didn’t even send a letter to us afterwards. To Dad and Lois. To me.”

“I… I thought you wouldn't have wanted me to. I thought you would be mad at me,” you tried to explain.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” he scoffed. “Did what we had mean so little to you, Y/N?”

“Tom…”

“No, really. I know you’re the bravest out of the two of us and all, but when you take so much place in my head, I would have expected you to at least try and end things properly,” he blurted out, nostrils flaring a bit in repressed rancour. “That would have been more like you.”

Tom was spiteful, but otherwise he found himself rather calm considering what he had experienced the last two months after he had discovered you gone. And now you were staring back at him, tears in your eyes, and he felt awful.

"It was a mistake," you suddenly said, shaking your head and hiding your face from him. "Coming here. I should have left you alone, I'm sorry."

You made for the door, passing by him in a blink of an eye and he barely had time to react. He tried to stop you as he made to grab you with his wrong arm, making him groan in the process and he was left with no choice but to rush to the door as well. He slammed it shut as you opened it, trapping you against it.

"No wait-" he called out before lowering his voice to a whisper, your hair brushing against the side of his face. "Wait… I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." 

You turned around, leaning your back against the door as you tried to not let a single tear fall over your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, coming to press his forehead over yours as you closed your eyes in reaction, his own refusing to leave your face. "Don't leave again."

You let out a trembling breath that fanned over his skin. “You’re the one leaving…” you said sadly, smiling weakly as you opened your eyes, glimmering. Then he felt one of your hands flatten against his chest between the two of you, resting there.

“It would be so much easier if you hated me…” you continued, looking somewhere between the hand on his chest and his lips, and he felt compelled to bring his own finger over the side of your jaw.

“Yeah…” he scoffed, grazing your skin. “Well I don’t think it’s that simple.”

Only your breaths could be heard in the room as he savoured your closeness, slightly pulling back from your face so he could see you better.

“Come with me,” he said in a low murmur, making you look back at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know where I’m going, but at least it will be away from here. Away from them.”

You bit your lip, almost like you had waited for those very words, a pained expression instantly appearing on your features. “I can’t Tom, I-” you started as he felt the pressure over his chest grow. “I have to stay here, in case he returns, I can’t…”

“Who?” he asked, his fingers falling at the hem of your dress over your shoulder in incomprehension.

“My brother,” you answered in a light shake of your head. “He was in the north, fighting. We have had no news for months, and I hoped… I hoped that he would come here, after everything that happened. After they were pushed back. Just maybe.”

Tom felt a rush of empathy take over him as he watched your eyes turn mournful, feeling the need to take the anguish away, to erase the pain on your face that he had pictured you with so many times when he was at sea himself. He wanted to be even closer.

But you have never felt so far away but at that moment. 

“Y/N…” he started, seeing you escape his gaze once more. “If your brother is still… If your brother is still out there, Paris is the last place he’ll come.”

“But you made it,” you said, eyes fluttering, hopeful. “You’re here.”

“I was lucky,” he admitted grudgingly. “I was wounded, they told me they passed me through the lines before the Germans got here. Otherwise I’d be taken as a prisoner of war. Otherwise I’d be…”

He stopped, choosing not to think about the horrible things that would have happened but rather of what was.

“Otherwise I wouldn't be here, with you,” he pressed, applying a light pressure on your shoulder that made you shiver. “Trust me, if I had a choice I wouldn’t have come here, and your brother won’t either, Y/N.”

You let out a defeated sigh. You already knew all of that, you just didn’t want to admit it.

You ducked under his arm, leaving him cold and longing next to the door while you brought a hand to your throat in anguish, not quite looking at him. “I know. I know I just… I can’t just wait, not knowing while they kill and terrorise and take over. It’s just… horrifying Tom.” 

“Come with me,” he repeated, coming to stand right behind you. “There is nothing left for you here, right?”

You turned to him, the tears in your eyes gone as you looked at him with renewed determination. “I can’t, you have to go home, and they have a plan to get you there, a sound one. You are the first of many, this is important, and I won’t be the one to jeopardise that,” you argued, taking his hand at his side with purpose.

“You’re just being stubborn again.”

You sighed, a sorry look on your face. “I can’t go with you because two people have less chance to be spotted than three. I’ll be fine if I stay, you won’t,” you pointed out, eyes intense. “I have ways to leave the city, legal ways. I… I heard you, I know I should leave, go back to the countryside. I’ll do it I promise.”

Tom remained silent, the sour taste in his mouth descending into his throat and he found nothing to say, no arguments, not even a witty response to give you. All of that because he knew you were right. 

All he wanted was for all of this to be over and to be back to the time where you read your books in his living room, drinking tea while he enjoyed a smoke and the way you laughed. But that was impossible now. He was meant to probably die somewhere at sea, or in France if he didn’t make it back, and you were meant to be with your family, two armies separating you.

“There is a curfew,” you stated after a long pause, finding your words again and speaking in a low voice. “I have to get back…” 

He wanted to argue, to find something, anything, but his mind was blank. Instead he watched the way your eyelashes fluttered and how you looked at the clock like it was the fouless thing you’ve even seen.

“Oh, I have something for you,” you remembered, and he saw you reach into your purse to put out two packets of cigarettes. “I figured you would want it. It’s not mild like back in Manchester but, maybe you’ll like those anyway.”

Tom stared at it, unable to take it at first. That was it, the sign that your time together was coming to an end, that you would disappear again and although neither of you wanted to, he knew that you had to.

You put the packets in his hands yourself instead, letting your fingers rest on his hands for a while, pensive.

“Come home safely, Tom, and desert,” you stated, a smile at the corner of your lips. “Properly this time.”

He smiled back. “Well, I’ll have to come back eventually. Who would be left to save your sorry frog’s arses if not us Brits, eh?”

He had talked in a joking manner but he absolutely didn’t feel like laughing, rather focusing on not letting his frustration that was growing by the minute get the better of him and on your fingers on his hands.

You had smiled a bit but your stare was intense, meaningful. He felt like time had stopped before you suddenly came to hold him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder again softly and staying there, silence stretching. 

“Take care of yourself, Tom,” you breathed in his neck, your voice trembling. “Please.”

He held you back, wishing the moment would never be over and he could feel the beating of your heart somehow, beating along with his own. But after a while you slightly pulled back, letting go of you and he felt your lips press a single kiss on his cheek, unsure if the wetness there were your tears or his own.

“Goodbye, Tom.”

Then you were out of the room, barely letting him take a last look at your face as you closed the door behind you, and he just stood there, waiting for the steps to fade away in the corridor like some sort of dream. Then he brought his hand to his face, brushing it as to wake up.

He looked around, alone in a room he was doomed to wait in in order to get back where you weren’t, and when he kicked the bin that was beside the door with his foot, sending it to the other side of the room, it didn’t soothe him at all.

That was the longest two hours of his life.

You had no appetite on this yet another Franco-German morning in your flat. Pigeons were cooing by your window where your bag laid open, half packed, clothes spread other the bed and left abandoned there. Maybe what had pushed you to start packing last night when you came home, dry tears over your cheeks was the will to finally make the sound decision and leave Paris, the conversation with Tom ringing in your ears telling you that your brother wouldn’t make it back here. You’d be better back at your parent’s, you gathered. Or maybe what had pushed you to pack was something else, but you didn’t want to dwell on it, deciding to chase the ache in your chest for now.

You decided to visit the hospital in the afternoon, unable to rest until you knew if it had worked. You knew it was too early, but you didn’t care. If something had happened, they would know of it. Webster would know.

When you entered the lobby, you almost turned back when you saw the abnormally high number of German officers, coming in and out of the heavy doors as you tried to make your way to the first floor. When you reached your friend, she immediately dragged you into an empty room, panic in her eyes.

“Ils l’ont arrêté, Y/N,” she said, taking your hands.

“Arrested? Arrested who, Henriette?” you asked, feeling your throat tighten at her expression, desperately looking into her eyes.

“Léon, from the psychiatric unit. They came this morning and arrested him.”

“What?” you exclaimed, half relieved and half scared. “Why? On what ground?”

Henriette gave you a pained look. “Because I think that he is… Because he is Jewish.”

You recoiled, dread filling you as you thought about your bag on the bed back in your flat and your friend in front of you, all alone.

Like you were.

“That’s it. You’re not staying here. You’re leaving, and I’m coming with you.”

“But I can’t! I have work here, I’m useful, I save lives… I need the money.”

“You won’t have money when they’ll put you away in those labour camps. Henriette, we can't wait around until they take you away.”

Your friend only stared at you, defeated. She didn’t want to leave Paris, what she had always known. She didn’t want to leave her job or Webster.

But you were right.

“Très bien. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I do. Pack, we leave in the morning.”

A/N: By the time the Germans entered Paris the 13 of June, the Parisians that remained stayed inside their homes in fear, as there was a strict curfew. I made reader witness the parade for image purposes.

Here's an accurate representation of myself in my father's attic searching for testimonies of my grand-father and objects from WWII.

I frigging' love that attic.

Part 5

(bold means I couldn't tag you) @chainsawsangel@mischiefmanaged71@depressedperson88@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @yentroucnagol@crlttpstrn @tssf-imagines @omgkatherine01 (I allowed myself to tag you) @nightdiamond8663 @r0segard3n

[ourtearsofrain]

Chapter 2- Ready for the Garden

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: angst

Word Count: little over 1.7 k

Warnings: being held at sword point, Sam’s a little crazy and Josh has trust issues, talking about killing someone but just as a pirate tale, brief mention of prostitution

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Your hands fly up in surrender as you hold your breath, afraid that even the smallest sound would earn you a meeting with The Master.

A taller man who also bears a striking resemblance to Jacob comes into view; his long brown hair pulled back with a small scrap of purple fabric as he grins at you maniacally, his eyes alight with an intense hunger.

“What do we have here, Jacob? A hostage? Please tell me it’s Helena’s right-hand man.”

Jacob reaches for the sword at your throat, pushing it away from you and allowing you to take a much-needed breath now that the threat of the blade is gone.

“They’re not, Samuel. This is Polaris, and no harm will come to them on this ship.”

“So we’re collecting pets now, Jacob? What the fuck were you thinking, bringing them back to the ship with you?”

He takes a step towards the other man, using the inch of height he had on him to his advantage.

“My judgement will not be questioned, Joshua. This is my ship, may I remind you. My question is, what are you doing off The God Song?”

Joshua sheaths his sword, glaring at his brother as he responds shortly, “Daniel and I came over to find you as soon as we heard the first cannon fire. We need to leave, now. How many times have I told you not to venture into town alone when we make port?”

“You are not my master. As I said, this is my ship, and I will do what I please.”

Joshua squares him up for a few moments, clenching his jaw before turning his attention back to you.

“You will stay out of the way. Our downfall will not be because of some street rat my brother found in an alley.”

He turns his attention to another man, standing on the other side of Samuel quietly. “Daniel, you stay here and keep them out of the way. Samuel, you’re coming back to The God Song with me.” Is all he says before turning to walk across the deck towards a large plank of wood connecting the two ships.

“What? Why can’t I stay here with them?” Samuel turns towards you with a glint in his eye. “I bet I could have some real fun with Jacobs new pet.”

“And that is exactly why you are coming with me. As much as I disagree with Jacob’s choices, this is his ship. I have no jurisdiction over what becomes of them here.”

Samuel bares his teeth before turning to follow his brother onto The God Song.

“Alright, lads! Get a fucking move on, there’s no time to waste!” Jacob shouts at his crew as they quickly scramble to ready the ship to set sail.

“Take them to my quarters, keep them safe and out of the way.” Is all he says to Daniel before he too springs into motion to ready the ship for sailing.

You feel a warm hand take ahold of your bicep as Daniel begins steering you towards the captains’ quarters. “C’mon.”

Just as Jacob had directed, you say nothing, allowing him to lead you down corridors as men scurry past you. You come to a stop at a large room, taking a seat by a table covered in various hand drawn maps as Daniel closes the door behind you.

“So, Polaris, right? You must be something special for the captain to take such a quick liking to you.”

“You’re The Archer.”

Daniel laughs at this as he takes a seat across from you. “Yes, I am. But you can call me Danny.”

You say nothing as you eye the man, not sure whether to trust him or not.

He waits for you to say something and when you don’t, offers a small sincere smile. “You hungry?”

At the mention of food, your stomach answers the question for you, having not eaten since that morning before you had gone down to The Black Smoke.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He stands, making his way towards the door before turning back to you. “Don’t leave this room, or it’ll be both our heads.”

With that he disappears, leaving you alone to take in your surroundings. Much like the table before you, the walls were covered in hand drawn maps and battle plans, the planks of the walls hidden by hundreds of pieces of parchment. Various daggers, swords, and pistols lay scattered across multiple tables around the room, and you make a mental note of each one as a backup plan. Set into the wall across from the door sits a large bed, covered with expensive-looking sheets and fabrics mainly dyed blood red and black.

Daniel returns moments later as he enters the room and securely closes the door behind him. He tosses you a ripe apple, bright red with streaks of yellow.

“We were planning on restocking our food supply in town but, that didn’t happen for obvious reasons. It’s not much but, it’s something.”

You eye the apple in your hand, still unsure whether to trust The Archer, Danny, or not. Your stomach protests as you set it on the table, turning your attention once more to Danny as he takes the seat across from you.

“You can eat it, I swear it’s not poisoned or rotten or anything like that.”

You say nothing, keeping your eyes fixed on him and your features blank.

He sighs, shaking his head with a small smile. “You don’t have to trust me, but it’ll make your life a hell of a lot easier if you do. I trusted you not to make a run for it or try and kill me with one of the many weapons we both know are in this room. Now you must choose if you want to trust me. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already.”

You consider this for a moment, deciding you would find out if he was telling the truth sooner or later.

They’re probably going to kill me eventually anyways.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you take in its intoxicatingly sweet aroma before finally taking the first bite. You groan at the taste, quickly taking another bite as its flavor melts on your tongue.

Danny cocks an amused eyebrow at you, smiling as he observes. “It’s good right? We got those from Giapan. I swear, all other apples are ruined for me now.”

You say nothing, your mouth full as you quickly devour the apple until it is reduced to nothing but its core. You set it back on the table, moving a few maps so that its juice wouldn’t tarnish the parchment.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. So, Polaris, tell me about yourself. How did you meet the captain? He was only gone for a few hours before the attack started, your brief interaction must have been something special.”

The look on his face instantly tells you how he thinks you met Jacob.

“I’m not a street whore.”

“Didn’t say you were. There’d be nothing wrong with it if you were.”

“You were thinking it, weren’t you?”

“Maybe. Jacob doesn’t get attached to strangers easily, especially enough so to save them from Lady Helena’s blade.”

“I served in a pub, The Black Smoke. I happened to be next to him when the attack started, I don’t know why he saved me.”

“Huh, you and me both.” He pauses for a moment. “Again, Polaris. Your parents were sailors then?”

“Yes. Well, my dad was. He took… morally questionable jobs.”

Danny grins, “Ah, so he was a pirate?”

“You could say that. Although, Polaris isn’t actually my name, Jacob gave me that.”

“So then, what is your name?”

You pause before responding, the memory raging through your head of your town set alight. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Whoever I was before now died along with my home.”

“That’s fair. Do you know what it means? Polaris?”

You only shake your head as your hand comes up to toy with your star pendant, a nervous habit you’d had for years.

Dannys eyes shoot down as the light catches across the worn metal, a smile on his face as he puts two and two together.

“It’s the North Star; our most reliable way of navigating the seas. Looks like you’re Jacobs North Star.”

Your hand stops as you look at Danny quizzically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, still smiling at you from across the table. “Ask him.”

You say nothing for a few moments until your curiosity gets the best of you.

“How did you get your name, “The Archer”?”

“Have you not heard the stories? Working in a pub by the docks, I would have thought so, with all the sailors that must come through your doors.”

“I’ve heard you shot a British Admiral in the eye straight through his telescope from a mile away, dangling only by a single rope from the Figurehead of The Ether.”

Danny laughs loud and bright at this. “Through his telescope? From a mile away and dangling from a rope? These tales really do get tall. Well, I hate to ruin the story for you but, it was only 500 feet. And while I did shoot him in the eye while I was perched on the figurehead, it was not through his telescope nor while I was dangling from it.”

“500 feet. Still impressive.”

You fail to contain a large yawn, your mind and body exhausted from the day you had had.

Danny motions towards the bed with his chin. “You can sleep if you need, we still have a few hours before we make dock next.”

Sensing your hesitation, he continues. “I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep. Trust, remember? Plus, Jacob told me to keep you safe.”

“Alright…” you stay as you stand. You awkwardly climb into the bed, not knowing how Jacob would feel about you sleeping in his bed, but your body instantly relaxes into the soft silks of the sheets despite the thought. Before you know it, you’re falling fast into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

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

Suddenly, the sound of water drumming violently against the planks above rips you from sleep, your eyes going wide with fear.

“What is that?”

Once again, Danny flashes you a toothy smile. “The waterfall. We’re here.” He says as he stands, making his way towards the door and waiting for you to follow.

“Where is here?”

“The Garden.”

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

A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Clip Show: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Your phone rings this time, and you answer it without looking to see who it is.

"You son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing, Crowley?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm killing everyone you've ever saved--the damsels in distress, the innocent whippersnappers, the would-be vampire chow--all of them."

"How do you even know where they are?"

"I have my sources and a cracking research team. When you three hit a town, you tend to leave a mess. Now, you're probably wondering why my droogs aren't in there giving you the bum's rush, so let's brass these tacks, shall we? I'm gonna gut one person every twelve hours until you bring me the Demon Tablet and stop this whole trial nonsense."

"We don't have the tablet. Kevin took it and--"

"I took Kevin, then someone took him back. Word from the cloud is that it wasn't Heaven. So either the cutest little Prophet in the world is with you three lads, or you better find him because time, she is a-wasting. About now, you're thinking of ways to stop me. You won't be able to, but you'll try because that's what you do. So, time for an object lesson. Indianapolis, the Ivy Motel, room 116. You have fifty-seven minutes."

Crowley hangs up, and you turn to the brothers with a pale face. You explain everything that just happened, and that's enough to rush back onto the road.

You're not sure who is inside room 116, but when she opens the door, you get a flashback to when you helped her back in New York.

"I'm just glad this whole thing is over. I never liked Upstate New York." You said.

"I guess this means you're leaving." Sarah said sadly, looking at Sam. The air started to thicken up with awkwardness and you looked between Sam and Sarah, nodding.

"Okay then, Dean, why don't we wait by the car." You smiled to Sarah, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean's shoulders slumped but followed your instruction anyways.

"I'm the one that burned the doll and destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything." Dean grumbled as you walked with him.

"Mmm, I'll thank you." You said seductively, leaning up to his ear and nibbling on it. He growled and pushed you against the car, kissing you. You pulled away and looked into his eyes that sparkled with love. You turned around and leaned into his body, your back to his front and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You held onto his strong arms, watching Sam and Sarah say goodbye.

Sarah closed the door of the auction house while Sam was outside. You guess Sam never made a move. You knew he wanted to and he should. You smiled widely when Sam walked back to the door and knocked. The door opened to reveal a smiling Sarah and she leaned up just as Sam leaned down and their lips met.

"That's my boy." Dean muttered with a smile. Sam deserved to be happy and in that moment, you knew he was.

Sarah is glad to see you three after being years apart, but as soon as you explain what's going on, she becomes grim.

"So a demon named Crowley is gonna kill me in sixteen minutes."

"No, he's not. I'm not going to let it happen. My powers are stronger than ever. You won't die, but that won't stop him from trying."

"What are you doing in Indiana?" Dean asks, trying to get her mind off things.

"I was scouting an estate sale for my dad."

"Look, we're gonna put Devil's Traps everywhere. We've got holy water, an exorcism ready to play on a loop, and anything that comes through that door is dead. Look, I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do. We'll keep you safe," Sam promises.

"Okay."

"That's it?"

"You've done this before. I trust you."

She fiddles with her fingers, and you notice the rock on her hands.

"Damn, look at the size of that ring," you gri.

"Yeah, his name is Ian. He works search and rescue. I guess I have a type. Our daughter, Bess, will be one in a month."

"I won't let anything happen to your family, Sarah. I promise," you squeeze her shoulder and join Dean to give Sam some privacy.

They talk for a few minutes, and then Crowley calls. Dread fills your chest, but you won't let her die.

"Crowley," Dean answers with a growl.

"Five... Four... Trios... Zwei... Uno." Sarah struggles to breathe. Whatever Crowley is doing, he's doing it remotely. You rush over to her and try to help her, but it's like she is being strangled by an invisible force. "She's dying, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yells.

"Son of a witch, actually. My mommy taught me a few tricks."

"It's a spell. Find the hex bag!" you yell.

Dean and Sam immediately start to ransack the area, and you grab Dean's phone to talk to Crowley.

"I thought of sending in a few of my bruisers and really let them go to town. Then, trial one was to kill a Hellhound. Trial two was to rescue a soul from the pit. So, from here on, I'm gonna keep everything hell-related away from you. Plus, I just thought it seemed fitting. From what I understand, Sammy took that bird's breath away. What's the line? 'Saving people, hunting things, the family business'? Well, I think the people you save are how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, and the pain you've caused is the one thing that allows you to sleep at night. The one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!"

"You're not getting her, you bastard," you growl.

"Sarah? They're your life's work, and I'm going to rip it apart piece by piece because I can, because you can't stop me, and because when they're all gone, what will you have left? You want to keep those people alive. I want complete and utter surrender. You'll surrender the tablet and the trials or we'll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings."

You hang up on Crowley and let your magic guide you to where the hex bag is. Sarah doesn't have much longer, so you need to find it now. Clouds of magic form at your hands, and Sam and Dean pause when they see what's happening. The clouds of your magic cover every inch of the apartment until it's sucked into a single location--the couch.

You use your magic to rip it apart, and you find the hex bag easily. With your magic, you burn the hex bag right before Sarah could go unconscious. She sucks in a deep breath and coughs, and Sam rushes to her side to take care of her.

"You're okay. You're going to be okay."

"I didn't have any doubt," she coughs.

Crowley thinks she's dead and you're going to keep it that way.

By the time you get back to the bunker, Sam heads straight to his room. He's pissed about this whole thing, but you're just exhausted. Dean takes care of the kids while you stay in the library. You don't move from your spot at the table even when Dean comes back without the kids.

"Get up. Follow me."

"Where are we going?" you ask hollowly.

Dean doesn't answer and helps you to your feet. He takes you to the hallway where Sam and the kids' rooms are. Yours and Dean's room is in the other hallway on the other side of the Bunker. Dean stops outside of Robert's room and grips the doorknob.

"We're going inside and facing this."

"I can't," you mutter.

"No, you need to let it in, Y/N. I'm going to let it in with you. This is how we're going to start to heal."

"It's going to hurt," you whimper.

"Of course it's going to hurt, but then tomorrow, it'll hurt a little less. Then, in a year from now, it's going to hurt a lot less. You have to start now before something bad happens."

You know he's right. You don't think you can do this alone, so you're glad you have Dean here with you. You move Dean's hand out of the way before you grasp the handle yourself. You slowly push open the door into the dark room. The only light is coming from the hallway, but you don't move to turn on the light.

Everything is how you left it before he died. The only difference is that his urn is sitting on top of the dresser next to the rocking chair. Imagine what your life would be like if he was here right now. Maryann would grow up with her twin. Joanna would have a younger brother. You and Dean would have a son.

You walk into the room and run your fingers over the crib. Tears want to fall, but you're trying not to let them fall. Dean is right behind you to walk you through it, and you're grateful for him. The dresser is your next step where a picture of him all wrapped up in his blue blanket right before he was taken to the morgue.

Next to his picture is a framed picture of his foot and handprints. His hospital bracelet sits next to that, and a small box with a glass lid holds the lock of his hair. Your bottom lip trembles, and as soon as your hand touches his urn, you break down crying.

"He should be here, Dean," you cry and grab the urn.

Dean backs you up and takes a seat on the rocking chair. You fall into his lap and curl into a ball, and he begins rocking you gently.

"He should be here. He should have gotten to live. I didn't even get to hold him," you sob into your husband's chest.

You're both crying at this point, but Dean is better at controlling it than you are. You let everything you've suppressed since you came home from the hospital out in the form of tears. Dean isn't sobbing, but you can feel his tears on your head.

He's right, it hurts like hell, but it'll be easier tomorrow and then before you know it, it won't hurt when you think of him.

x

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[alexanderdragonborn]

Trinity Restore Alternate Route

In your opinion how would Xelzaz snap/draw the line with people asking the Dragonborn to help. I was slightly touched with the Thieves Guild where he’s warning you that you don’t need to sell your soul to Nocturnal. I imagine that is where he’ll draw the line. Especially if you’re an Argonian who is connected to The Hist because if either of them died they wouldn’t be find each other. He would go to The Hist but not the player. (I’ll be honest I cried a little)

Even though he doesn’t say he’s doing everything he can not to drag you out during this quest. I imagine after listening to Karliah not really giving you a choice is where he draws the line and sends you away before he’ll drag/carry you out. 

 Warning: Mild angst, fluff at the end. Mentions of murder.

“What about you are you ready to transact the Oath with Nocturnal”

“I suppose-” 

“No, they will not” I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me behind Xelzaz???

They will not be making any oath to any Daedra. We are wasting time here. Milha lets go. 

*He never uses my real name. He’s upset. *  I thought. I nodded my head and slowly walked back to return the armor. I sit against the wall listening in the conversation. 

“In order for us to defeat Mercer we must have-”

“I have enough faith in our skills to defeat Mercer. They have been through worse”

“Woah lad, I understand it was-”

“No, you don’t understand. If anything, no one understands. I watch day after day seeing people taking advantage of their kindness. I watch day after day watching idiots making simple small mistakes and them cleaning it up. They only just joined a few months ago and now you’re asking MY friend to sell their soul to become a pawn. They fought Alduin twice. They saved Winterhold from being permanently gone. I watched them destroy the Dark Brotherhood while understanding that they are killing their own brother! If anything, I believe with our skills we can handle Mercer. 

“And if you don’t? What then he goes off free and rich. He gets away with the crimes he committed.” 

“As unfortunate that is at least they’ll still be reborn to The Hist. Which is where they belong. I don’t expect some who isn’t an Argonian will understand.” 

“We’ll be here if you change your mind. But keep in mind you’re wasting time.”

“No, you’re wasting time. I managed to make the copy of the plans and had our friends pinpoint the location of where he may be. We’ll be there in case YOU changed your mind.” he snapped. 

I sighed changed into my usual armor. I put the Nightingale Armor back where I picked it up. 

“Are you ready to go?” I looked over my shoulder and saw him reaching out his arm. 

“Yeah, just a second.”

“If you’re walking there, I will personally put you over my shoulder to get you out of here.” He said. I slightly chuckled.

“I doubt you’ll be able carry me. Let’s go.”

“Challenge accepted”

‘Wait! No! I was joking!” I quickly bolted towards the exit. 

“I wasn’t! Get back here!”

“Not looking back!” I spotted the exit and ran faster to get to the door. 

I opened the door and felt the fresh cool air hit my face. I sighed and took a deep breath to relax for a moment. 

Next thing I know I was turned around and he carried me over his shoulder. 

Dammit!

“Xelzaz! I demand you put me down at once!” I laughed.

“You know if you didn’t challenge me, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He chuckled. He set me back down. 

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” 

“Of course. What are you wondering about? Also, we’re going to the Bee and Barb. I desperately need a Flin.”

“Alright. Well, I suppose why did you do that? You know I’m a grown adult. I am capable of making decisions. 

“I am aware. But there are times where it’s difficult to watch someone not giving you a choice. If you had gone through with Nocturnal your soul with the Hist would be corrupted. You’re one of my best friends. I refuse to let everyone to make you bend your back for them”

“I...uhh thank you” I slightly stuttered. I grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked at me puzzled. I pulled him down slightly to hug him.

I’m really glad you’re here” I said.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  2/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 4.3K

A/n: Second part of this mini series! inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End 

~*~

“Alright lads, you know the drill. I expect you back on the ship by dusk tomorrow.” The men of the king are more than eager to head to the longboats, wanting nothing more than to satiate their hunger for ale and whores.

The door to the quarters that you and Wanda share gets slowly pushed open, and Tony smiles brightly at you.

“Are you going to be coming ashore with us?” He asks, eyes hopeful. You don’t have it in you to say no, and you also can’t fight the nagging feeling that there’s something waiting for you here.

“Yes, we will. We’re ready now,” You say, smiling at him. He leads you out to the longboat and helps you in. There are a few other cremates already in the boat, waiting to be lowered to the shallow waters below.

You and Wanda sit beside each other, across from the men as they row you to shore.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes asking a question. You incline your head the slightest and she leans forward.

“You’re looking for something,” she whispers. You sigh and shrug weakly. “Something is coming to find me. And I must meet it.” She nods thoughtfully, eyes flashing from you to the docks up ahead.

As soon as the longboat is tied off, men on the shore are hurrying over to you and Wanda to help you both.

You accept the outstretched hand and climb up onto the dock, turning and waiting for Wanda to join you. As she comes up, a man’s hand strays too far south, and she hisses.

You grab him by the wrist, thunder clapping above you as you glare at him.

“You lay another finger on a woman without permission, and you’ll lose your entire hand. That is a promise.” He opens his mouth to make some sort of snarky remark but snaps it closed when he sees the tip of his fingers starting to turn black with the mark of death. He nods quickly and you drop his hand, watching with a stone-cold look on your face as his fingers return to normal.

The group of men who were so willing to help you quickly disperse as they realize that they aren’t going to get what they want from you or from Wanda.

“You ladies feel free to roam. I have no doubt that you can take care of yourselves. If you want to rejoin us, we’ll be leaving at dusk tomorrow.” You’re surprised at the offer, having thought that you and Wanda would have been forced to rejoin them.

“Thank you, Tony. For all you’ve done and for your kindness.” He smiles warmly at you and nods. “It’s nowhere near what you deserve, but it’s the best I could manage.” He offers you a small bow then heads off to drink himself into a coma for the night.

“Well. Shall we explore all that Tortuga has to offer?” You ask, extending your arm to Wanda. She grins and takes your outstretched arm. “We shall.”

~*~

Bucky sits in the pub, eyes roaming around the place for the millionth time as he tries to pinpoint your face amongst those of the strangers in the crowd.

A man plops down beside him, a cup of ale held loosely in his fist and a poisonous grin on his face.

“Barnes, good to see you again.” Bucky hardly glances at him. “Rumlow,” he says with a nod.

“What are the odds of me seeing you here, huh?” Bucky shrugs, sighing heavily. “What is it you want, Rumlow?” “Where’s your captain? I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Over by the bar chattin’ up a dame. Go interrupt him, I dare ya.” Rumlow purses his lips and chuckles lightly. “A man of business, as usual.” Rumlow gets up from the table and heads over to the bar, giving the woman talking to Steve a smile before stepping between them, far too close for Steve’s comfort.

Bucky watches them, watches as Rumlow speaks and as Steve’s eyes widen. The eyes in question are suddenly on him, a chin raised up towards the ceiling, beckoning the dark-haired man to join the conversation.

Bucky gets up with a groan and heads over to the bar. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the two other men expectantly.

“There’s a ship of the King’s men here tonight, they leave tomorrow at dusk,” Steve starts, waiting for his friend to catch on. When he simply stares back at the blond, Steve sighs.

“We split the bounty down the middle if we help take the ship. Think about it, Buck. They’ve always got gold on those ships.” He shakes his head. Right as he’s about to open his mouth he hears a familiar note being played on the piano. It’s being played softly, so softly he has to strain to hear it, but he hears it no less.

Whipping around, his eyes search for the piano, and, more importantly, the person playing it.

“Buck?” Steve asks, concern lacing his voice. Bucky ignores him, pushing his way through the pub until he gets to the back corner.

His breath catches in his throat, heart racing in his chest as he sees the woman seated at the piano, playing the song that lulls him to sleep every night. His fingers instinctively find the locket around his neck, the one that plays that very same song, and he finds himself blinking back tears.

You can feel him behind you before he says anything, but when he whispers your name you can’t help the shiver that rolls down your spine. Your fingers continue playing but your posture stiffens slightly, the only indication that you heard him.

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for so long.” This has your fingers freezing, and you slowly stand up.

You turn to him and he’s beyond confused and concerned at the betrayal and sadness in your eyes. Without speaking a word, you brush past him, ready to walk straight out of the pub and meet up with Wanda.

He grabs your wrist, urging you to stop, and you do, only to yank your arm out of his grip as if he scalded you. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss, your eyes filled with rage.

His brows pull together in confusion, having absolutely no idea why you’re treating him this way. You turn away from him again and he runs after you, fighting the urge to grab you again.

“(Y/n) wait! Stop!” As soon as you’re out of the pub you feel better, the cool air doing wonders to clear your head.

“Where are you going?” You continue walking, grinding your teeth together as he follows you. His fingers just barely graze your shoulder and you whip around to face him, thunder crackling above you.

Clouds roll in, your emotions getting the better of you as a storm forms quickly overhead.

“You have no right to touch me. I should kill you for even looking at me after what you did!” He looks genuinely confused. “What I did? (Y/n) what are you talking about?” You chuckle once without humour, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Don’t play dumb, James. It doesn’t suit you.” With that you turn and walk away just as the rain starts to fall around you, droplets splattering on your face as tears claw their way down your cheeks.

He stands there in the pouring rain, staring dumbfounded at your retreating figure while wondering what the Hell happened that you’re blaming him for.

“Buck? You okay?” He doesn’t look away from where you last were, his eyes having lost you in the downpour.

“She... I...” He looks over at his friend, eyes rimmed red. “What happened?” Rumlow asks, squinting against the harsh rainfall.

“I don’t know. She just... she hates me. I don’t even know what I did.” Steve pats the man on the shoulder. “After we lost you she went ballistic. Maybe she heard a rumour of something untrue and believes it? I’m sure she’ll come around.” Bucky shakes his head. The way you stared at him, utter betrayal in your eyes... he knows you far too well to believe that you’ll simply change your mind.

“Enough of that. Do we have a deal, Rogers?” Bucky looks over at the two men, confused about whatever deal is going down.

“The King’s ship is here. And they never travel without gold. The colours on this one lead me to believe that there’s an important man travelling for his Majesty. And you know what that means,” Rumlow explains, grinning at the metal-armed sailor. “Leverage,” he murmurs, mind still on you while he ponders the deal.

“The amount of Gold on a king’s ship, even if we split it halfway, would set us over for months,” Steve whispers. Bucky sighs then nods.

“Alright fine. Now which ship are you wanting?”

~*~

“Ladies! It’s good to see you. I’ll be honest, I was unsure if you’d be joining us again. But I’m glad you did.” You smile warmly at Tony then look back out across the open water, eyes flittering towards Tortuga in the distance.

“What did you expect to happen if not that?” Wanda asks softly, stepping beside you and keeping her eyes focused on the horizon.

“I thought he would be surprised to see me. And he was. But he acted as if he didn’t know it was he who caused this in the first place,” you whisper. She frowns but says nothing more, giving you the silence to think over your interaction with the man you used to love.

“Captain! We.. we’ve got some trouble it looks like,” Peter says hurriedly. Tony steps away from where he was listening to your conversation and glances to where the young man is pointing. Sure enough, coming up on the stern are two ships, each with dark flags waving.

Clouds roll in overhead quickly and Wanda’s eyes glow red.

“Pirates,” she whispers. The wind comes in strong, sending a few crew-mates stumbling as they run across the deck.

“They aim to plunder, they want nothing to do with us, unless they deem us of value,” you inform, gathering your skirts in your hands and marching over to Tony.

“We have no chance of outrunning them. And outgunning them... not even a hope.” He looks at you then up to the skies. “Can you not conjure something?” You shake your head. “Nothing more than a storm. But what aids us will aid them. We’ve lost.” He sighs heavily then nods, looking over at his men.

“What will they do?” Your eyes travel to the two pirate ships that are quickly gaining, trying to focus on the flags and determine which ships they are.

You incline your head slightly to the right and a gust of wind comes in, pushing their flags to the side. With wide eyes, you stumble back, the sight of the flags making your heart roar in your ears.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, the wind picking up as the rain starts to fall harder.

“We’ve got no chance,” you whisper, chest rising and falling rapidly as the ships grow nearer.

Wanda is by your side in an instant. “It’s them, isn’t it?” She asks, staring at the ships. You nod, grinding your teeth together.

“There is nothing we can do now,” she says firmly, taking hold of your arm to grab your attention. “Do not let them think they’ve won. They have not.” You take a few deep breaths, reigning in your emotions and clearing the rain. The skies stay grey, but the winds die down and the rain ceases.

“We’re going to be boarded, men. And when that happens we are to remain calm. They are pirates. They will take our gold, they may take our lives, but they will not ever take our pride! They will not strip us of the very thing that makes us men! We are strong and we stand for the King!” The men on the ship all shout their agreements, readying themselves for whatever fate awaits with the coming of the pirates.

Quickly, far quicker than you would’ve expected, you’re being flanked on either side by massive ships. One of them far too familiar. A home long forgotten.

You can see the pirates on either side, shouting profanities and grinning wickedly.

“Prepare to be boarded!” A man shouts at you. You look around at the men surrounding you and take a step closer to the back, burying yourself in the crowd as much as you can.

Pirates swing onto the ship, swords and pistols drawn and prepared for a fight. When they receive none they seem far too happy.

“Imagine my surprise when I see a ship of the King floating idly in the waters of Tortuga. Seemed too good an opportunity to be missed, right boys?” That voice... it sends a shudder ripping down your spine and darkness taints the sky.

You look up, eyes burning with anger, and you stare directly at the man who’s speaking. His murky eyes meet yours and he smiles a sickly grin, stepping down onto the main deck and pushing his way through the crowd.

“Ah, but you are not all men of the King, are you? No, some of you are much more valuable.” He stops when he’s in front of you, eyes raking over your figure.

“Yes. Some of you are far more valuable than mere men of the King.” He raises his fingers up to stroke your cheek and a clap of thunder shatters the silence. You glare at him in warning but he only chuckles, grubby fingers tracing dirty paths down your cheek.

“What are you going to do, witch?” He asks softly, stepping even closer to you. You say nothing, glaring up into his eyes with pure hate. He chuckles and right as he leans down to say something more you spit in his face. He flinches back then glares at you. He raises his hand to strike you but before it can come down, long fingers are wrapped around his wrist.

“No harm is to come to her.” You look over at the man, clenching your jaw shut so tightly you fear you may break it.

“Fine,” Rumlow spits, yanking his hand free from the blond man’s grip. “But we’re going to be changing course,” he shouts, pushing through the crowd to the poop deck.

“Tow the ship! And bring the prisoners aboard and shove ‘em in the brig. We set sail for Nassau.” Rumlow’s men are more than happy to start grabbing at people and chaining their wrists, stopping them from fighting and forcing them towards the edge of the ship where a plank is being laid down.

As men start crossing the gangplank to Rumlow’s ship, the man himself walks over to you and Wanda. Two men come behind him, each with thin metal cuffs in their hands.

“Hope you don’t mind, darling. Just a little precaution. Can’t have you using what little you have left to disturb my ocean.” The way he says it, with such smugness and certainty makes you want to pull his tongue right out of his mouth.

The cuffs are snapped into place and you nearly collapse. The remainder of your powers are stripped from you entirely, leaving you a mere mortal. Wanda inhales sharply at the sensation and you know she’s feeling just as terrible as you.

As the two of you are being pushed towards the plank, a hand lands on your shoulder.

“The witch will have my quarters. She has no place with the men of the king.” You wrench your shoulder out of his grasp and stumble away from him.

Rumlow watches in amusement as Bucky pleads with you with his eyes.

“As generous as an offer that is, I’d rather remain with the only crew who hasn’t betrayed or abandoned me,” you whisper harshly, glaring daggers at them. You cross the plank and are promptly shoved below decks, Wanda close behind.

You’re then locked in the brig with the rest of the crew, chest heaving at both the emotional strain and the physical one of having your powers drained.

Tony looks at you in complete and utter confusion, trying to piece together what he can, but he has little success.

You stay absolutely silent, back pressed against the damp wood of the ship.

Trapped and bound yet again by the hands of the same men.

~*~

“Once they reach Nassau they will look for the other ship of the King, try and find any leverage that they can. They are gathering far too many hostages, and we will be killed soon,” you whisper to Tony, a frown on your face as you peer through a crack in the wood. The ocean is rough, not by your doing, but you cannot help but feel as though the gods are on your side.

“Those men know you. Who are they?” Your bottom lip trembles and you take a few deep breaths. “One of the ships... used to be my home. The other is the reason why I am bound. Why I cannot access my powers fully. And there is only one man alive who knows how to strip me of my powers.”

He’s quiet for a very long moment.

“Why not just kill you? Why bind you?” He asks. You shrug, having asked yourself the same question. Because this, this fate that is now yours, is one worse than death.

“They mean to use you as a weapon,” Wanda says softly, her eyes closed as she tries to get used to not having her powers.

You and Tony both look over at her, waiting for her to continue.

She opens her eyes and looks between the two of you for a moment.

“By keeping you alive, your power remains on this earth. If they were to kill you, then your power would be lost, and that power is of great use to them. I anticipate that it will only be a matter of hours before you’re brought to the captain’s cabin and your purpose is discussed.”

Wanda is correct.

It’s only after the sun has set and night has taken hold that anyone descends the stairs.

“Cap’n wants you in his cabin, Witch,” a man sneers, yanking the door open and grabbing you by the wrists.

He’s awfully rough with you, but you pay it little to no mind, trying instead to focus on figuring out Rumlow’s game plan.

You’re forced into his cabin, nearly tripping over yourself in the process, but you regain your footing just in time and your eyes find those of your captor.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight if I’m honest,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you up and down.

You say nothing, mouth shut tightly and eyes focused on a scratch in the wall.

“Nothing to say? Really? I thought you would have some choice words considering your current predicament. Or are those words reserved for someone else?” A muscle in your jaw ticks and he grins, realizing he struck a nerve.

“It was he who told me how to bind you, how to strip you of your powers. He was there when we did it too. And yet he acts so innocent.” He stands up and walks over to you, circling you slowly, like a vulture.

“How does that make you feel? Does that... anger you? Does it make you hungry for revenge?” He stops when he’s in front of you, two fingers brushing gently across your jaw.

“Your wrath is something I’ve only ever dreamed of harnessing. And I can bring it back. You only need swear alliance to me, and you’ll be free from your bonds. You need only tie yourself to me, and your power will return.”

You look at him, face stoic and cold.

“I will not trade one set of bonds for another. Find someone else to do your bidding.” With that you turn on your heel, only to be yanked back to his chest.

“You will watch your tongue, woman, or I will cut it out. Do you understand?” You say nothing, but for the first time in a long time, you feel truly helpless.

“I am your captain now, and you will listen to me. Unless you would like to join all those that you have sent to the depths. And this time, you won’t have your powers to save you.”

You clench your jaw and tug out of his grip, glaring at him for a moment longer before turning and leaving his cabin.

“You will do my bidding one way or another, Wench! It is only a matter of time before you realize it!”

You’re ushered back below decks and shoved into a separate cell than before, successfully isolating you from the rest of the crew.

“That was brief,” Tony says cautiously, eyes on the retreating crew-mate before returning to your figure.

You say nothing, only close your eyes and pray for something as sweet as death to take you.

~*~

It’s hours later that you’re woken from your sleep, metal clanking together and hushed voices speaking quickly.

“Hurry now, before they wake up.” You push yourself into a seated position, watching in curious confusion as Steve and Bucky hold the cell door open, helping the prisoners out and up the stairs.

Only after they have the permission of Tony do they leave, and even then, the Captain and Wanda stay behind, each of them looking at you.

Upon realizing where you are, Bucky yanks your cell door open, holding his hand out to you.

“We must hasten, it won’t be long before they realize what we’ve done.” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. Tony and Wanda leave their cell, lingering on the stairs and watching as you refuse help.

“Why would I exchange one traitorous pirate for another?” You ask rhetorically, your words like a slap across Bucky’s face.

“Buck, we need to leave. We don’t have time for this,” Steve whispers, gently pushing Wanda and Tony up the stairs.

You stare at the brunet in front of you, daring him to make a move.

When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

“What are you waiting for? Leave. It’s what you’re good at.” He doesn’t have time to argue, but your words cut him deep.

Against his better judgement, he turns and runs up the stairs, hating himself for abandoning you, but knowing that there are far more lives at stake.

The ship branches away from Rumlow's, heading West to escape him.

“We’ll drop you off at the nearest trade stop, but that is all we can do,” Steve says, looking across the table to where Wanda and Tony sit, each eyeing the goblets of rum in front of them.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Tony asks, looking at Bucky. The pirate furrows his brows in confusion.

“You’re the one who got her trapped.” He’s beyond confused now.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He demands, metal hand clenching into a fist.

“Don’t act so innocent. You’re the only person alive with the knowledge of how to bind her to her human form, how to cut her off from the sea. And you act as though you’ve done nothing.” Wanda’s eyes glow red with her anger but Bucky is still confused.

“I-I never told anyone... She trusted me and I kept it to myself. Why...” He trails off, horror colouring his features.

“Steve, when Rumlow found me after I fell overboard, what did he say happened?” Steve ponders this for a moment then shakes his head.

“Just that they found you in the water. Nothing else.” The red slowly fades from Wanda’s eyes as she realizes what must’ve happened.

“Rumlow’s the one who wanted power all along. And he’s stopped at nothing to get it. He means to use her as a weapon to control and conquer the seas. He’s the one who bound her. He must’ve used your knowledge to bind her without you knowing.” The three men in the room are confused by her suggestion.

“Consider it. He has no recollection of the time spent away from the ship, and he is also the only one with the knowledge.” She rises slowly to her feet, red glowing from her fingertips.

“If you let me, I could bring forth the memories, show you what your mind is trying to forget.” He looks at her hesitantly for a moment.

“(Y/n) is a dear friend of mine. If what you are saying is the truth then I promise I will not harm you.” His gaze travels from her to Steve then back to her, a new determination in them. He nods once and then her fingers are hovering right by his temple, a red hue flowing from them.

His eyes slowly take on the same colour before rolling back into his head, his hidden memories finally being brought to the surface, the truth being revealed.

It takes a few minutes, but he finally reopens his eyes, anguish written on his face.

“She... Steve, we must free her.” Steve sighs, not knowing what to say.

“Buck, how are we supposed to do that? We need to free the crew before we do anything. We cannot risk all of their lives.”

“Rumlow’s knowledge may be enough to bind her powers to his ship, his command. The only way to keep the seas safe is to release her, and soon,” Wanda pipes in.

“My crew can wait. And any man who wishes to leave may take a longboat and find their own way.” The Pirates look at the King’s man for a moment before nodding.

“Very well,” Steve says, turning back to his friend. “How do we free her from her bonds?”

“The same way they trapped her in the first place. And to do that we must go to the island where she was born.”

[babytaes]

†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol), 

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

 “So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter,  I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung. 

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.” 

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later 

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.” 

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 299: No Chains Left

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “and then AFO broke out all of the inmates from six other prisons and took a nap. well anyways, here’s the hospital angst.” Kacchan woke up two days later and was all, “WAIT BUT HOW ARE DEKU AND TODOROKI AND ALL OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS EXCEPT IIDA DOING” and then we cut to Shouto’s room where the other U.A. kids were sitting around being Mutually Traumatized and giving each other moral support and such. Everyone was alll, “...”, and then the rest of the Todofam showed up, INCLUDING POSSIBLY REI?! which, omg. The chapter ended with Kacchan STOMPING THROUGH THE HALLS all “WHADDYA MEAN DEKU HASN’T WOKEN UP YET”, dragging along Satou and Mineta behind him, fueled by the power of ALL OF THE FUCKS HE NOW GIVES. He gives so many fucks now you guys. This boy cares so much he can probably deduct it on his taxes.

Today on BnHA: SPEAKING OF PEOPLE WHO GIVE A LOT OF FUCKS, the story cuts abruptly to Hawks, freshly recovering from his near-death experience, and pondering the threads that have weaved the tapestry of his life and led him to this moment. Basically he grew up in poverty with his Jerk Dad and Jerk Mom until his dad got arrested one day and his mom sent him off to go Find Money Or Something, and so he rescued a busload of people and found himself a new career. Back in the present day, Hawks and Jeanist ride around town in Jeanist’s Jamborghini having awkward encounters with civilians in a country on the brink of social collapse, and visiting Hawks’s mother’s home. Hawks is all “I know from an outsider’s perspective it must look like my life currently sucks, but now that the HPSC is gone, my public image is shot, and my parents are finally out of my life, I’m actually feeling SURPRISINGLY GOOD.” Anyway so he’s gonna go meet up with Endeavor now, and p.s. this chapter was fucking fantastic though, damn.

oh my god?? is this Hawks narration?? something about him growing up watching the heroes on TV and thinking of them as fictional characters

okay I scrolled down a little bit more to see the rest of that “Keigo” panel, and wow

this is basically a shed. poor boy definitely grew up rough. let me tell you guys, I came in here ready for some BakuDeku shenanigans; I was not prepared for Hawks Flashback Angst. I AM HERE FOR IT, but also wow I gotta brace myself now lol

HELLO MISTER HAWKS’S JERK DAD, SIR

BnHA sure does have an array of Jerk Dads, doesn’t it. makes me appreciate characters like Masaru and JirouDad all the more for bucking the trend

anyway. so Horikoshi, you really thought that one itty bitty chapter of hospital catharsis would be enough to calm us all before you went right back to showing us child abuse huh. my god man can we rest

BABY HAWKS

swear to god this kid can’t be more than five or six, and yet he has this completely blank look on his face even with his dad looming over him being all threatening and shit. like he’s shut down his emotions to protect himself. imagine what has to happen to a child for him to have learned this at such a young age. fuck

AND MEANWHILE THIS GUY

don’t mingle with humans?? not “other” humans, just humans?? what is this implying here?? and also holy shit Hawks definitely didn’t inherit his looks from his dad orz

then again he doesn’t really bear much of a resemblance to his strung-out mom here either

omg omg omg. and this child is basically trapped here in this environment with these two people. this explains a SHITLOAD about Hawks’s personality though you guys. his ability to completely separate his real thoughts from the face he presents to the outside world. his pragmatic approach to analyzing and solving problems. his layers of emotional walls. turns out almost none of that came from the HPSC training -- that was all learned hands-on in his own personal do-or-die survival nightmare childhood!! oh, boy

and small wonder then that he latched on to Endeavor so strongly if he really is the one who brought down his dad and inadvertently saved him from this. also, just putting this out there, I know people are always talking about him and Dabi being foils, and I think it’s very interesting how Touya grew up in a household where he saw firsthand the dark side of hero society, and so ended up becoming a villain in order to bring it down. whereas young Keigo had almost the exact opposite experience, growing up experiencing the dark side of villain society and becoming a hero in order to bring about a world where no one else has to experience that. just. both of them are so determined not to become their fathers. some interesting parallels there

so Hawks was sort of an accident after his parents had “thanks for helping me not get caught after I killed that guy” sex, and now this little boy is growing up in squalor and being beaten by his father for things like Sitting In The Wrong Out-Of-The-Way Corner Trying Not To Be A Bother To Anybody. holy fuck. this is so rough to read through you guys

wait so does Jerk Dad have a an eyeball manipulation quirk?? because he doesn’t have the wings like his son, but wth are these things??

this presumably also means that Keigo has never been to school or anything either. he basically doesn’t exist. he thinks heroes are fictional characters, he doesn’t realize that they’re real people. these are people who could help him if he could escape and find them, but he doesn’t know, and they don’t know about him

OH MY GOD HE’S JUST SITTING IN HIS CORNER HUGGLING HIS ENDEAVOR PLUSH OH MY GOD

how could this child possibly have an anti-fandom when he’s done NOTHING WRONG HIS ENTIRE LIFE. huh. just explain that to me. lol I mean I’m not looking to pick a fight with anyone, but also, MAYBE I AM, idk?? this kid has gotten me all riled up lmao

anyways, Protect Keigo 2021, and thank you Horikoshi for these three very terrible pages. I am pleased to inform you that you’ve effectively gotten your point across and you may now commence saving this kid already

YAY

oh no, Keigo’s dumbass jerk dad tried to steal a car and the popo nabbed his ass and now his mom can’t just sit around neglecting her VERY YOUNG SON all day long, oh horrors. sorry lady my tiny violin is on backorder. just imagine that I’m playing a very sarcastic song on it for you

anyway so what are you gonna do now, abandon him? I can hardly imagine he’d be worse off, if anything it might be a near-instant improvement

LMAO HE’S ALL “WAIT WHAT ENDEAVOR’S A REAL FUCKING DUDE?!”

AND THEY SAY THAT A HERO CAN SAVE US~~~~ I’M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND WAAAAAIT~~~~~ I’LL HOLD ONTO THE WINGS OF THE EAGLES, WATCH AS WE ALL FLY AWAAAAAAY~~~~

lol what a randomly pivotal moment in his young life. TIME TO GO MAKE THESE MEMES INTO DREAMS YOUNG ONE

anyway so his mom freaked out and grabbed him and they wound up at a train station with her TELLING HIM TO GO GET HER SOME MONEY, oh my god. SURE MOM LEMME JUST WALTZ RIGHT ON DOWN TO THE “JOBS FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS” STORE AND TELL THEM I NEED SOME CASH. ffff manifesting someone to come help him in 3... 2...

...

SIGH, JUST GO RESCUE THE PEOPLE FROM THE BUS, KEIGO. is this the outfit he was wearing when that happened?? it must be, right?? I can’t imagine them surviving more than a couple days out here unless this starts getting REALLY dark in a way I know that even Horikoshi won’t explore, so yeah. cut to the HPSC now please. never thought we’d be glad to see them. I mean sure, it may be an “out of the frying pan...” case, but good god

THANK YOU!!

and I guess it was his mom’s eyeball quirk then. anyway, whatever, see you again never, hopefully. lol oh man. thaaaat, was upsetting. need to center myself here for a sec. NAMASTE

OH YAY THE PRESENT

so we cut from Baby Hawks Angst straight to Present Day Hawks Angst, huh. not that this exhausted and traumatized lil lad isn’t still a baby to me too, I’ll have you know

BEST JEANIST, ALWAYS WITH THE JOKES

“WHEW, THOUGHT YOU DIED ON ME FOR A SEC THERE KID.” lmao. Caleb will no doubt ruin this by making his word choice all stiffly formal as usual, so I’m just going to treasure this “WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, I’M FRESH OUT OF FUCKS” version of Jeanist while I can

look at him, driving his Jeanistmobile

again, is it any wonder Kacchan was bitching about Endeavor’s dinky little car when he was used to riding around town in style like this. anyone else staring at this panel trying to figure out how this car is somehow secretly made of jeans

NOOOOO

FUCK YOU DABI LMAO. PUTTING THESE VOICE ACTORS OUT OF A JOB ONE BY ONE

anyway so Jeanist is all “GOOD THING IT’S THE FUTURE AND WE’RE SO GOOD AT MEDICAL SCIENCE” to handwave how Hawks went from one step shy of being a very handsome corpse, to sitting around texting Jeanist in a car all of two days later

OH MY GOD, AND FINALLY AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS

wait a minute. I’m so confused lmfao. soooo, was Hawks all “anyway, here’s Jeanist’s dead body, you can examine it but please don’t look at him too closely and also I’m gonna need that back unharmed.” how tf did you pull that off lmao

(ETA: also isn’t this technically confirmation of the ol’ Noumu Jeanist theory lol. I’m gonna go ahead and say it is.)

NO BUT PLEASE, CONTINUE. I unironically love reading Horikoshi’s overly convoluted “SEE IT’S NOT A PLOT HOLE” explanations

lkldslfk so wait, you’re telling me Hawks convinced Dabi and the League to put Jeanist’s body in storage, and basically just hoped they wouldn’t use him for any experiments until he could put his plan into action and have the HPSC’s people break in and find and revive him?? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG. A FOOLPROOF PLAN IF I’VE EVER HEARD ONE

fff this man really asked Jeanist to risk it all to prop up his little cover story, and Jeanist was all “sure why not” omfg. anyways, thanks for recapping all of this out loud for no particular reason in your car conversation you two

LMAO NOW WHAT

TROUBLE YOU SAY? GOOD THING THE NEW NUMBER ONE HERO IS ON THE JOB THEN

okay no it’s just some random thugs strolling around terrorizing the downtown. fuck ‘em. so Jeanist is making short work of them now

uh oh

won’t come? not can’t, but won’t?? what???

WOW

well I guess that makes the local heroes A BUNCH OF SHITHEADS now doesn’t it?? jesus

and okay, serious question, if the cops are spread too thin and the heroes have literally walked out on the job, what exactly is stopping everyone from deciding to use their quirks to defend themselves, legal or not? nothing, as far as I can tell. society just got a hell of a lot more chaotic

anyway so this is an interesting panel here

man, Dabi really did pull it off, didn’t he. well anyway so here’s that better world all of the villains were wanting, you guys! isn’t it so great?? everyone’s terrified and angry and losing hope and society is inches away from collapsing into total anarchy! but hey, at least we exposed the number one hero as a hypocrite

anyway so what are these guys up to

fucking hell, he’s visiting his mom. I really wasn’t prepared to commit this much emotional energy towards reading this chapter today. BUT VERY WELL, WE PRESS ON

?? wait she’s not there?

is this supposed to explain how Dabi knew who Hawks really was? except that there’s the little matter of how he even know where to find his mother in the first place. feels like we’re still missing something there, but oh well

OH MY GOD

RHA I TAKE BACK EVERY WORD I EVER SPOKE AGAINST YOU. YOU ARE A SCANLATION GROUP FILLED WITH ANGELS LMAO. I WILL TAKE THIS PANEL IN MY HANDS, AND TREASURE IT AND KEEP IT SAFE

ANYWAY, BECAUSE MY TIRED BIRD SON’S LIFE SUCKED SO MUCH ALREADY, IT TURNS OUT HE’S ACTUALLY PLEASED WITH THIS NEW TURN OF EVENTS LOL HOW ABOUT THAT

GOOD FOR YOU BBY. YOU GO OUT THERE AND BE YOUR OWN PERSON

and in all seriousness, I love that identity he chooses -- chooses, because it actually is him making a choice now, possibly for the very first time in his life -- is “guy who helps people”, though. it really is nothing short of miraculous that he held on to that kind of optimism and desire to do good even with everything he’s been through. there were so many times he could have chosen to turn his back on the world in retaliation for the way it treated him. but he didn’t!! and here he is now, finally free, and what he wants to do with the rest of his life now is simply to help others. anyway please excuse me for a moment, I need to go find some sort of basket or a big vase to put all of my fresh new Hawks Feels in, pardonne-moi

YEAH BOIIIIII

“FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS, MISTER JEANIST, WHERE DID YOU FIND YOUSELF THAT SWEETASS CAR.” hey, all I’m saying is if this boy’s wings really aren’t growing back, he’s gonna need to find himself a new means of transportation y’know?

oh my god you guys it’s a flashback to his mom buying him the Endeavor plushie when he was like two because, and I quote, ALL MIGHT WAS TOO EXPENSIVE

oh my god oh my god. my boy out here with a new lease on life finding hope in the darkest of times

wasn’t your throat supposed to be all fucked up lmao. Horikoshi was suddenly all “oh shit the VAs are gonna be pissed at me if I keep this up huh”

“that’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy” motherfucker IT IS A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN. FORECAST SAID NOTHING ABOUT THIS

:’)

yes ma’am. yes indeed. confirmed, I really will straight up fight some motherfuckers for this child. well not really, but YOU KEEP YOUR DISCOURSE OFF MY LAWN AND OUT OF MY BLOG YOU HEAR. THIS IS A HAWKS-FRIENDLY SPACE. WE RESPECT TAKAMI KEIGO IN THESE STREETS

and he’s saying (or is he thinking?? what a weirdly shaped speech bubble this is) that even if what Dabi said about the Todoroki household is true, “I’m not sure it’s the same now.” which happens to be ABSOLUTELY CORRECT. man this whole chapter really is all about saying “fuck the past” and moving forward and I am living for it

SON!!!!

“the first step is at my beginning” fklkjlk. what an iconic fucking line??

AND HIS WINGS!!!! THEY ACTUALLY ARE GROWING BACK AHHHHHHH. “PUT A RAINCHECK ON THAT CAR, JEANIST-SAN.” THE HAWKSMOBILE CAN WAIT, RIGHT NOW HE HAS TO GO INSERT HIMSELF BACK INTO THE TODODRAMA WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT

you guys. I came here ready for some BAKUDEKU HOSPITAL ANGST, and I got DIDDLY SHIT of that, and none of my other kids were even in this chapter, but!!! ASK ME IF I CARE LMAO omg. because bird son is hanging with his new best friend, and he’s out here Finding Himself and picking up the pieces and putting them back together stronger than ever because RESILIENCE HAS A NAME, AND IT’S SPELLED H-A-W-K-S, and you guys. profound, my love for this child. holy shit. hey google, play Silence by Marshmello

[uwuwriting]

What did I miss? w/ Hawks and Dabi

Request: Okay so hear me out: Hawks’ and Dabi’s s/o (as separate headcanons, or you can just choose one) is also a pro hero/villain and the lads think she died or something and they just become enraged and they’re so distressed (and the ending is soft because she’s okay and maybe they cry) I love your writing, I hope you have a nice day! -🐍

Lol I had a similar request some time ago for our younger boys which I never got around to doing because I’m bad at fulfilling requests and following orders lol. This will be both hilarious and angsty. Well hilarious if you have my sense of humour otherwise I’ll have to add cricket sounds. Okay maybe its not that funny but oh well, it didn’t make me cry at least. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of injury and death, swearing. 

Hawks/ Keigo Takami 

-Having two winged heroes on patrol always kinda led to disaster. 

-You both would race each other to your randevouz points or you would mock each other about your wing span. 

- “You know what they say about your wing span? The bigger the wings well....the bigger the assets.” 

-You had bigger wings then him just for a few centimeters but you rubbed it in his face all the time. 

- “Why am I in love with you again?” 

-It really bothers him bc you keep saying he has a smaller dick than you....and you don’t have a dick so.....yeah....anyways. 

-You were on patrol once again, goofing around on a rooftop.

 -It was late at night and you could be a little more handsy since there were’t many possibilities someone could walk in on you. 

-Keeping your relationship a secret is hard and baby can keep his hands to himself for so long until he breaks. 

-Suddenly out of nowhere you started hearing screams and cries for help. 

-Keigo didn’t even get a chance to say anything before you were flying towards the building that was on FIRE. 

-Dashing right after you he entered the building nad he was half expecting to see you there in the entrance, but he saw no one, only a large chunk of flaming wood etched into the mahogony floor. 

-His mind immediately went to the worst scenario possible; it was like he couldn’t control his own thoughts.

-But right then, when his panic was beginning to surface, he heard you calling out for him. 

-The rescue of the residents took around half an hour and it got harder and harder as time went on. 

-The fire was getting out of control and was getting harder to locate everyone.

 -One apartment was left in the end and you could here crying coming from inside. 

-The fire was basically licking at your boots at this point but you weren’t about to let someone burn. 

- “Get those last two outside and I’ll meet you at the rooftop across the street.” 

- “Y/N-”

- “Keigo GO! I promise I’ll meet you outside.” 

-And that was the last thing he heard from you that night. 

-He did as he was told, he got the last two people out of the building and soon after them a toddler was carried out of the building. 

-He waited for you to come out next but you never came. 

-The flames licked at the sky, their tips seeming to be touching the moon. 

-The roof collapsed in on itself making the rescue teams to back away as they looked in horror as the whole flat came crumbling down. 

- “SHE’S IN THERE!” 

-HE doesn’t remember much from that night. 

-He knows he went back inside or at least tried to get past the debris. 

-He remembers seeing the color of your wings, that beautiful white, peeking out from under a fallen beam. 

-He remembers the upper floor almost crashing him as he tried to get you out and then nothing. 

-He woke up in a hospital bed, dressed in one of those white robes his whole body screaming at him not to move. 

-If he was being honest he forgot for a moment the events of the previous night and he was expecting to find you sleeping on the chair next to his bed, your hand in his just like you had done so many times before. 

-But you weren’t there and then everything came pouring in. 

-Frantically he got up and he reached for the door, yanking it open and coming face to face with a doctor. 

- “Where is she?” 

- “Sir you should be in bed, you injuries-” 

- “goddammit WHERE IS SHE?”

-His outburst had attracted some of the nurses but he couldn’t care less about his image right now. 

-Where you gone? But he remembers getting you out from under those fallen stairs. Maybe you were already dead when he reached you. 

-No no no you had promised ot find him outside, you had told him so. That’s why he left, that’s why he did as you said. What was he supposed to do now? Without you here what is he supposed to do?

-Everything was muffled out, the ringing in his ears being to loud to allow him to focus on anything else. 

-His breaths came out shallow as his head swam with thoughts. 

-You couldn’t be gone you just couldn’t he had so much he wanted to do with you, so many things planned you couldn’t-

- “Keigo?”

-He turned around slowly. 

-At first he thought he was dreaming, your voice always seemed to soothe him when he was destressed. 

-But then his eyes landed on you all bandaged up and sporting crutches. 

-You were hurt but you were alive, you were here, you were alright.

- “What did I miss birdbrain?”

-He launched himself at you bringing you flush to his chest as he silently cried. 

-He let a few I love yous slip past his lips before you both entered the privacy of his hospital room. 

-Neither of you spoke for a long time. 

-You just held each other as tightly as your stitches would allow before letting all the tears fall. 

- “I’m here, we’re alright.”

Dabi

-You had been sent out on a mission on your own. 

-Dabi had tried to convince Shiggy to let him go with you but he refused. 

- “I’m not sending you on this one with her. She is the best suited for this job and I’m not letting you mess it up just for your fuck buddy.”

-Shiggy really knows how to push Dabis’ buttons and if you ask me Dabi makes it easy at times. 

-They were a pain in the ass. 

-I mean you are going out on a mission let a girl get prepared in peace.

-Before they could set each other on fire and then dissolve into dust you dragged Dabi away telling Shiggy that you would be going soon. 

- “Really Dabi at times I doubt if you trust me at all.” 

- “It’s not that I don’t trust you dumbass. I just dontwantyoutogethurt.”

-Legit you didn’t hear anything he said but you had an inkling.

- “Oh what was that?”

- “I’m not saying it again.”

- “Here I am going out on a dangerous mission and you won’t even grant me one wish...how cruel.”

-He ended up saying it again but really really begrudgingly. 

- “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” 

-You kissed his nose then his lips and let out a small I love you before heading down to the bar and getting the last info from Kurogiri. 

-Now Dabi likes to see himself as a very heartless and stone cold individual. 

-But you always were the exception to his behaviors so he couldn’t help but admit that he was worried. 

-The mission was supposed to take three days plus one for you to return. 

-It was still day two and he was ready to pull his hair out. 

-But he promised you that he wouldn’t go out to search for you unless you have been gone for a week or more. 

-So he just waited in agony.

-The moment though that you weren’t back in a week as you said you would be he went into a silent panic. 

-He wanted to be nonchalant about it at first, just casually bringing up your whereabouts in convos with the league or asking Kurogiri of any mission reports from your end. 

-Always came up with nothing. 

-They had lost track of you two days ago and your last contact was yesterday. 

-Now he was sure going to come after you. 

-And no one could stop him. 

-He knew you were strong and that you could handle yourself better than anyone in the league but he couldn’t stop himself from going after you. 

-He had learned from Shiggy that the group you had targeted had a soft spot for torture if they caught someone in their territory.

-His mind of course went first to the worst case scenario, his pessimistc nature getting the better of him as flashes of you hurt on the floor of some basement ran throough his head.  

-It didn’t take him long to reach your randevouz spot, mainly bc he was driving around Tokyo like a maniac. 

-He entered the small house that was marked as you target and the first thing he was met with was blood. 

-It was on the walls and on the floor and he couldn’t tell if this was yours or it was someone elses. 

-Then he heard suffling from a closet nearby. 

-It was a low scratching noise coming from the closet in the far back. 

-He slowly approached it, his left arm letting small blue flames lick his fingertips as he opened the door. 

-And then his heart dropped. 

-Tumbling out of the closets’ interior was you, bloddied and bruised your arms barely keeping you propped up as you landed on the floor. 

-He didn’t miss a beat. 

-He scooped you up, moving stray hairs from your eyes as you barely kept them open.

-Your lip was split and you had a huge bruise right under your left eye. 

- “Hey there baby.”

- “What the fuck happened Y/N?”

-You cringed as he moved his arms under your back, the pain being too much even for you. 

- “They were waiting for me. I sent a message to Shiggy saying that I was coming back but he insisted I finish this. I managed to kill the leader but some of his rookies got to me.”

-He didn’t take you to the hideout. 

-Oh no.

-If he had done that then there would be no Shiggy to lead them and there would’ve been a large fire in that area. 

-He rented a room in a nearby motel. 

-He let you rest while he went out and got you some disinfectants and bandages. 

-Really when he was cleaning you up, if his tear ducts worked properly he would’ve cried. 

-You woke up at some point while he was finishing up and you could feel his trembling and his silent sobs. 

-You wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him as much as you could as you let your tears wet his t-shirt. 

-His hands went up and down your sides and back, pulling you into his lap as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. 

- “I’m alright, see? That’s my heart beat.” 

-You placed one of his palms over your heart in hopes that the subtle thud would calm him down. 

-He really loves you and he won’t let anything happen to you ever again. 

-Even if it kills him. 

TAG TEAM AY: 

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @bemorefiction​

[elvish-sky]

Gone {Fili x Reader}

A.N: My bad, I really meant to have this up by 4pm my time and it’s a whole lot later now so I’m sorry! I really hope this fic is alright! It’s not my best work, but I like it and I hope you do too!

Requested by @anjhope1 on Tumblr: Lol I take up your angst challenge: can I request a female human(bit thick) reader x fili where he accidentally says something mean to the reader but won't apologize so reader like starts to distance himself away from him and starts hanging out with other people?

Word Count: 1,118

Pairing: Fíli x Reader

Summary: You overhear Fíli denying that he likes you to his brother.

Warnings: Angst, Self-criticism, Insults

**** Gone

The halls of Erebor were full of dwarves, the early morning bustle at its highest. You were headed towards the market, determined to find something that Fíli would like. Browsing through the stalls, you came to one that had weapons on display. They were all extremely finely crafted, but none had the look you wanted, so you placed a custom order to be delivered at the end of the week. 

Next, you went to one of the bakery stalls to pick up some goods for Fíli and Kíli, knowing they would appreciate it, before finally purchasing more of Fíli’s tonic from the healers, the one that he couldn’t sleep without but was too embarrassed to buy. 

You wound back through the corridors, making your way through the maze that was the Lonely Mountain, heading towards your rooms. 

“What about Y/N?”

You stopped, hearing your name from the doorway to your left, the one to the hall where the company usually ate when not at formal events. 

“Y/N? What? I don’t like Y/N!” It was Fíli. 

You halted to the side of the door, curious. That hurt a bit, to be honest, but you wanted to hear the rest of the conversation. 

“You’re blushing!” That was Kíli, you could picture him jostling his brother, teasing him.

“Yes, lad. Don’t try to hide it, you love her!” And there was Bofur.

“I don’t!” exclaimed Fíli. 

“Oh, c’mon, Fee. Give us proof.”

“Ummm… she can be selfish sometimes. And spoiled, she grew up with more than we ever had.”

Selfish? Spoiled?

You had sacrificed everything to join him on the quest, leaving your family and the only home you’d ever known. And while yes, you’d had a comfortable childhood, you also knew how ridiculously lucky you were. And despite knowing how much you liked the comforts of your home, you’d still given them up in a heartbeat for Fíli. You’d given up a whole life for Fíli, and he repaid it by calling you selfish? 

You leaned against the wall for a moment, taking a deep breath. You were really, really hurt. It was bad enough sometimes to think those things about yourself, but to hear the person you loved say them about you? You sighed. Maybe Fíli wasn’t the right person for you after all. 

But you would be damned if you cried about it in public where anyone could see, so you hustled further along the corridor to your room. Almost there, you skidded to a halt as you rounded a corner and none other than Thranduil, the Elven-King, stood before you. 

You quickly dropped into a curtsy. “Your majesty.”

You had forgotten the elves were visiting today before heading to Dale tomorrow. 

“Y/N. It is nice to see you again.”

“You as well, your majesty.”

You were trying to end the interaction as quickly as possible, knowing you couldn’t hold the tears in much longer, but Thranduil had other ideas.

“How many times have I told you, Y/N, to please call me Thranduil?”

“Probably many, my l-Thranduil.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Actually, Y/N, while we’re here, I’d like to ask you something.”

You glanced at him, curious.

“I know you are probably very happy here and are settled, but we could use your unique skills in the Woodland Realm. I’d like to offer you a job as one of my councillors.”

You blinked. Normally you wouldn’t consider leaving Erebor, but you were still very much hurt by Fíli’s comments.

“I’ll do it.”

Thranduil looked shocked. “You will?”

“Yes. When do we leave?”

He quickly summoned a straight face again. “Tomorrow, early.”

You nodded, curtsying again as you took your leave. “I’ll see you then.” 

You left the elven-king standing there, a bemused expression on his face. 

You finally reached the door to your room, shutting it behind you and leaning against it. 

You were leaving Erebor. Leaving, because Fíli did not love you and you couldn’t imagine living that close to someone you loved who hated you enough to call you selfish. Leaning against the door, you felt the tears start to pour and you slid to the ground, arms around your knees as your sobbing rocked you back and forth. 

After a while, you heard a knock at the door. Standing, you brushed yourself off, blotting at your swollen, red eyes before opening it. 

It was Fíli. 

“I am not selfish,” you exclaimed before slamming the door in his face.

Turning towards your wardrobe, you grabbed a bag, ready to pack and leave Erebor to begin your new life. 

Fíli stood there in the hallway, staring at your doorway. You had clearly heard him talking to his brother and Bofur earlier. He knew you wouldn’t open the door for him again, so he sighed, turning away. He’d find you first thing tomorrow and apologize.

“Where’s Y/N?” Fíli stood in the hallway next to his brother. It was midmorning and he had set out to find you and apologize sincerely for what he had said, to tell you that he had not meant it in the slightest, that really, he loved you. 

Kíli looked at Fíli. “Didn’t anyone tell you? She left with the elves. Last night.”

Fíli looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

“She left?”

Kíli nodded. “She’s gone, Fíli.”

He sighed. Of course she was gone. He had insulted her, and she wouldn’t accept that. But he still missed her. 

Turning away from the pity-eyed Kíli, Fíli made his way back to his rooms. Opening the door, he sat in the armchair in the corner, silent. 

A knock sounded against the hardwood.

“Come in.” The prince had barely raised his voice, but whoever was outside had head nonetheless and opened the door.

The dwarf, holding a long package, handed it to Fíli. 

“What is it?” Fíli asked. 

“It’s from Y/N. She ordered it from me for you.”

“Thank you,” Fíli dismissed the dwarf and sat down to unwrap the package. 

It was a gorgeous pair of swords. The metal was tempered perfectly, gleaming, the edges were sharp, and when he held them it felt like they were meant for his hands. 

Y/N had done all this for him.

And what had he done for her? Nothing. He had driven her away, she would never come back and it was his fault. He had been reluctant to admit it but he did truly love her. And now she was gone. 

Fíli started to cry, the tears marring the surface of his gift from you, just like he had marred your heart, hurting both of you forever.

He loved you. But you were gone. 

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit

Fíli tag: @laurfilijames

[ickle-ronniekins]

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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[supernaturalgirl20]

What Happened in Vegas!

Part 13

Pairings: Marcus Pike x reader

Warnings: tooth rotten fluff, smidge of angst, Smut 18+, oral (male receiving).

Summary: you finally bring baby Olivia home.

A/N: aah so here we are at the end! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, liked, commented and reblogged. It has meant the world to me that so many people have enjoyed this. Like I said, it’s not completely over for our duo. I will be doing one-shots, little glimpses into their life together. Hoping to update maybe once a week!

*comments and reblogs really appreciated*

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You spent five days in hospital and after finally being checked over you were being discharged. Marcus was a proud doting father as he strapped Olivia into her car seat carrying her through the hospital to the car. Once she was put in and everything was secure, he helped you into the backseat beside her, making sure to be gentle, as you were still very sore.

“Are we ready to go home?”

“Yes please. Take us home daddy pike.”

Adjusting to life with a newborn was hard, especially when you were still recovering from surgery. If you didn’t have Marcus you’d be lost. He got up with Olivia at night and let you rest throughout the day, he was amazing. Waking one morning to find Marcus’s side of the bed empty, you make your way into Olivia’s nursery. The door is ajar and you stand outside watching father and daughter bond.

“She was the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, your daddy couldn’t control himself..”

“Marcus are you really telling our daughter how we met?”

“It’s a good story, besides, that one lads trip gave me everything I’ve ever wanted. I’ll scream about it from the roof.”

“Please don’t, somehow I don’t think the neighbours would be to pleased to hear how we shagged each other’s brains out in Vegas.”

Marcus covers Olivia’s ears, “now that, is not for her ears.” He looks at you and you both start laughing. Olivia begins to stir.

“Shhh it’s ok.” Marcus rocks her gently. You’re in awe of him, he’s so good with her, how did you get this lucky?

Olivia is finally out for the count as Marcus places her back into the cot.

“Let’s go back to bed.” He walks you back into the bedroom and kisses you gently. You both get cosy under the duvet and he pulls you close. He’s running his fingers up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

“Baby, there is something I need to tell you.”

“Mmm”.

“When I was on that assignment, you know I had to work with Theresa.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Well, something kinda happened.”

You shoot up out of his embrace. “What?” He grabs your hands and rubs his thumb over your hand gently. Your worried now, he can’t even look you in the eye.

“Marcus please just tell me?”

“Well, she kinda, she wanted to get me back.”

“Get you back! For what, she dumped you?”

He pulls his hand away from you and runs it down over his face.

“No baby you don’t understand. She wanted me to leave you and get back with her.”

A range of emotions settle on your face before you grab his chin, moving his face so he’ll look at you.

“Tell me everything, it’s ok, I love you, that’s never gonna change ok?”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“No you don’t.” You burst out laughing and he realises you were joking.

“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, but that’s not what we’re talking about, so go on.”

“She kissed me. Told me she made a mistake picking Jane over me. She didn’t seem to care that I was married or had a baby on the way.”

“Ok, and what did you do?”

“I pushed her away, I told her that yes, what she did broke me, but it opened me up to something better. If she’d never done that, I would never have met the love of my life. I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, I packed my bag and made my way home to you.”

“I love you Marcus, so much.”

You pull him into you and kiss him tenderly on the lips.

“If I wasn’t still sore, I’d shag your brains out right now.”

“There’s no rush baby. You have to heal first, that’s more important.”

You start kissing him, moving from his lips down his neck, over his chest until you reach rim of his boxers. You look up at him, “I can still use my mouth.”

“You don’t have….”

You pulled his boxers down freeing his hardened length, before taking him into your mouth. You lick the underside of his cock before swirling your tongue along his tip, teasing him. He starts thrusting into your mouth, desperate for release. You relax the muscles in your throat and take him into your mouth completely. That’s all it takes for him to come hard, spilling his seed into your mouth. You swallow him whole.

“Jesus baby, that was….fucking amazing.”

“I love how I can reduce you to a writhing mess, it gives me a power trip.”

“Well you can do it anytime baby, I’m all yours.”

Olivia begins to cry on the monitor and you go to get up, but Marcus stops you.

“I got her, you rest baby.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

***

It’s been two months since Olivia was born and life has been good, hard but good. She still wakes at least three times in a night but Marcus is a great help, even though he’s back at work. You haven’t had any alone time, between work and a baby it’s hard to find the balance. With all that was going on, you’d missed your one year anniversary since you’d met, something Marcus insisted was a big deal. So in true Marcus fashion, he’s organised a weekend away for the both of you, his mom delighted to have Olivia. You’d just finished packing, you’d put in a mixture of clothing, Marcus refusing to tell you where ye were going. A knock at the door takes you from your thoughts.

“Hi Mary, come in, little women is all ready to go. I’ve put everything you might need in her bag. If anything happens you’ll ring me?”

“Yes I will but stop worrying, she’ll be fine, won’t you missy. You little cutie, just like your dad when he was a baby. Speaking of your dad, is Marcus not here?”

“He should be home…”

Marcus strides in through the door going straight for Olivia.

“There’s my girl. Daddy is going to miss you, yes he is. Hi mom, thanks again for taking her.”

“Tsk, it’s nothing, happy to help. Now come on miss Olivia, let’s leave mammy and daddy to finish getting ready. See you both Monday.”

“Bye.”

Marcus closes the door and turns around quickly, stalking towards you. He pushes you up against the wall kissing you passionately. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer. Suddenly he’s pulling away, “as much as I really want you right now, we really need to get going or we’re going to miss our flight.”

Sitting on the plane waiting for take off you still didn’t know where you were going, how Marcus managed it you don’t know.

Hello ladies and gentlemen welcome aboard flight 367 to Las Vegas.

Your stunned, turning to Marcus with a huge smile on your face, “you didn’t?”

“Oh I did, and even better, same hotel, same room.”

“Your the best. Thank you.”

“Oh don’t thank me yet.” He leans closer to you so only you can hear him, “that can wait for later, because I’m not letting you leave our room,except for dinner, all weekend.”

“Is that a promise?”

Your eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in to kiss you.

***

True to his word, you spent almost all weekend in bed, well, the room least. You’d definitely made up for the lack of sex since Olivia was born. Your currently standing under the waterfall shower, the steaming water cascading down your sore muscles. Not that you were complaining. Your thinking about how last night he’d fucked you up against the window, breasts pushed against the glass. Arms wrap around your waist pulling you from your thoughts. He kisses your neck and you can feel him hard against your back.

“Mr. Pike, your insatiable.”

“Mmm, only for you, Mrs. Pike.”

Turning to face him, you reach up and pull him down so you can kiss him. He moves you backwards until your back hits the tiled wall. The kiss becomes more heated and his hands roam your body. Your suddenly lifted off the floor, he taps your thigh urging you to wrap your legs around him. In one fluid motion he plunges into your heat, drawing a moan from you both. He pounds into you over and over, pulling another orgasm from you, one of many today.

“Harder baby.”

He buries his face in your neck, releasing a low growl, one that goes straight to your core. You feel your climax coming from the pit of your stomach. It hits you hard, so hard you think for a moment you might black out. You moan his name loudly into the shower room sending him over the edge. He spills inside you. Resting his head against yours he tries to calm his breathing, before gently lowering you to the ground.

“That was….wow!”

“Yeah it was. We should get away more often.”

Having washed each other in the shower you relax back into the soft mattress of the Queen size bed. Marcus crawls in beside you, pulling the duvet over you both. He wraps his arm around you pulling you flush against him.

“To think this is where it all started. Are you happy you took me home with you that night?”

“More than you’ll ever know baby. You’ve given me everything, I’ll forever be grateful for you.

“Marcus! Or going to make me cry.”

He snuggles into you, the palm of his hand resting on your stomach.

“You think we did it again?”

“Did what again?”

“Made another baby Pike?”

You hit him on the shoulder, “Marcus, Olivia is only two months old, slow down there cowboy.”

He laughs, “it would be fitting though. We’d have come full circle.”

“Oh Lord, what am I going to do with you?”

“I know, but you love me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Previous/Next

Tagging:

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[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2 Re-Write

Basically this story with a little bit of extra angst injected in

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He's only just starting to feel okay about casual physical affection from his new family. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out how to stand, or what he should be doing with his hands. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, not that one corner of the large room is really any better than any other.
 The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them, and sets Jason’s heart racing at a panicked pace.
 He freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking too.
 “Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s little rat-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?!”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to, and Jason’s had enough experiences being surrounded to know that it never leads to anything good. At the moment he’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the terrified impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Every muscle in his body that wasn't already tense tightens up, and heat flares at the back of his neck. He doesn't want to be in trouble. He doesn't even really know what being in trouble means in this new life yet, and he's been hoping to put off finding out as long as possible.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle, and just feels the warm shame that he wishes it didn’t ignite in him.

Bruce reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

"You will never put your hands on my child again.”

Jason's not sure what he had been expecting Bruce to say, but that wasn't it, and hearing it gives him whiplash, makes his heart that had already been beating in his throat stutter to a halt.

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?” Bruce's voice is deceptively calm.

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Jason wants to say that it doesn't matter, that it isn't a big deal, because really it shouldn't be. He shouldn't be afraid to be touched; it's just one more thing about him that so glaringly doesn't belong. But he's still not sure whether or not he's in trouble, and if he is then he's learned from experience that it's better to keep his mouth shut.

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” One of the few onlookers who isn’t pretending not to be paying attention pipes in.
 Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man who had spoken, and the woman.

“So you did touch him?”

“This is ridiculous!”

It's somehow the worst thing she could have possibly said. Jason already knows he's ridiculous. He can feel it with every fiber of his being, and the confirmation that everyone else can apparently see it too sparks a stinging sensation at the back of his throat.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks, and Jason flinches slightly at his words.

Bruce looks over the remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman had been standing, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are at least a little easier to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason, who forces himself to keep his eyes open and his gaze up.

He's getting ready to apologize. He hadn't wanted to embarrass Bruce, or to get him in trouble with whoever the hell those people had been- with his luck probably someone important. He doesn't want to be in trouble either, but he recognizes that that ship has probably sailed already. He just wishes he knew what kind of punishment to expect; he hasn't been here that long, and adult behavior is hard to predict.

“Are you okay?”

Jason blinks, and apparently it takes him longer than he thinks to process and respond to the question, because Bruce asks it again.

This time he nods, figuring it’d be pretty stupid for him not to be okay.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bruce asks.

Jason knows that it's not really a question; he's already done enough damage for the night after all. He nods his head. He’s not totally sure how to get back to the manor from here- he still doesn’t know this part of town very well- but he’s sure he’ll be able to figure it out before Bruce wraps up here.

“Let’s get our coats.”

Jason looks up in surprise, but Bruce is already walking away.

Right. He guesses it makes more sense that they’d be leaving together. He's noticed that rich families like to keep any shows of conflict private. One of the consequences of which being that he still doesn’t know how the hell these people discipline their children.

He nods again, cheeks still burning with embarrassment.

-

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

Bruce observes Jason’s defensive body language as they slide into the backseat.

“Are you sure you’re okay, lad?” He asks slowly.

He receives a tight nod in reply, and sighs.

“Do you want to help me get a better picture of what happened in there?”

Because what he’s looking at isn’t okay. He’s seen his witty, outgoing child shut down like this before, and it usually means he’s scared. Bruce needs to know if he was spooked by something innocuous, or if he’s going to need to hurt someone.

Jason turns from being seemingly caught off guard by the question, to apparently desperate to answer it in the span of a second.

“I swear I didn’t hit her! It was just that she-“ He shakes his head, apparently deciding against whatever he’d been about to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what? You’re not in trouble, Jason, not unless I’m really missing something here.”

That earns him a long suspicious look.

“I don’t like to be touched,” Jason grumbles after a minute.

“And people shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you.”

He learned pretty quickly when he first became a parent not to assume that adults would always respect children’s boundaries. And he knows that Jason has been hurt. He’s not sure exactly how, or by who, but the signs are all there. And he shouldn’t have to deal with being forcibly reminded of that by the carelessness of others; he’s a kid for god’s sake!

“Is that all-“ He stops himself from finishing the question. “People shouldn’t feel entitled to touch you,” he reiterates. “Can you tell me if anything else happened? If anyone hurt you, or threatened you?”

Jason starts to shake his head, but stops with his neck angled slightly toward Bruce.

“I thought she was gonna hit me,” he admits.

Bruce’s body tenses up. He had noticed that himself when he’d first entered the scene, and what he had read in her body language had made him see red.

“And then there were so many other people,” Jason continues. “And they were talking, and staring at me. It had me feeling kind of boxed in.”

“I’m so sorry, son.”

Jason looks a little startled up at him.

“Just to be clear,” he says slowly. “I’m not in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Bruce confirms. “I promise I will always do whatever I can to protect you from people like that.”

[bangtanloverboys]

until i see you again // ksj

summary - prince seokjin of philos is chosing his bride at his 25th birthday ball and you want to be anywhere but there. unfortunately you’re expected to go as a friend of the king and to escort your younger sister there; to see if she has a chance to win the prince’s heart. unbeknowst to you all, the prince’s eyes are already set upon someone

pairing - prince!seokjin x duke!reader

genre - fluff, angst; royalty au, childhood friends to lovers au, 

word count - 9.1k

warnings - historical inaccuracies, reader being an idiot, kissing, implied/referenced homophobia (it’s very slight, won’t even notice it if you squint), sad ending, star crossed lovers, miscommunication but it’s in the worst way possible

author’s note - sorry not sorry for making sad gay stuff oops; clast is part of the title, not yn’s actual family name. additionally, i put in a hint to new fic in here 👀 also @jinpanman since u asked to be tagged 💕 here u go

The stars had always fascinated you since you were a young lad; the shapes they made and the stories behind them, the way they always shifted in the night sky. While the view from your bedroom window at the castle was great, it could never show the full wonderful picture that was the night sky. Hence why you were now laying in the palace garden and staring up into the vastness before you, your arms folded behind your head.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice startled you into sitting up, only to see the silhouette of the Crown Prince Seokjin standing a few feet behind you. You were surprised to see him outside, but it wasn’t necessarily a shock seeing as your current place of residence was his home, the Castle of Philos. Your father, the Duke of Clast, was a close friend of the King, thus meaning he was invited to a lot of formal events. The Castle Philos was practically a second home to you, making it’s prince a close friend of yours. 

Of course your friendship was by no mere accident. It was by the design of both of your fathers’, wanting their allegiance to hold strong even with the new generation. Neither of you seemed to mind though, you both seemed to get along great with one another. But as the two of you grew up from boys and slowly approached manhood, you felt something else grow deep within your chest each time you saw the prince.

“Seokjin, you scared me!” You whisper shouted at him as sat himself next to you on the grass. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted. “I saw you from the window, thought I might join you.” Your cheeks burned at his response as you watched him lay back on the grass, assuming the same position you had only moments ago. 

The sight of the young prince was something to behold as he lounged on the lawn, being at only 18 years old he was already picture perfect for everything a prince should be: honorable, intelligent, merciful. One quality you had heard whispered amongst the court ladies was how handsome he was, something not even you could deny. His dark eyes emulated the night sky, reflecting the stars up above. The soft angle of his jaw paired with the dark hair that fell over his forehead framed his face beautifully. Then there was his lips, they looked soft and pillowy; and you wanted nothing more than to feel them for yourself-

“Are you going to lay down or continue to sit there and stare?” He questioned you, raising a sculpted brow at you.

The burn extended past your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You laid down beside him, hoping the cool grass could possibly lower your growing temperature. You laid there, stiff next to him as your gaze locked back onto the sky. Neither of you said a word as the stars twinkled like diamonds above you. You heard the prince shift in his position, now resting on his elbow and staring down at you. 

“You’re thinking.”

“How would you know?” You scoffed at his (correct) assumption of your silence. While your voice remained steady, your head was reeling at his closeness. If he came any closer, he could’ve heard your heart thumping away against your chest. 

“You forget Y/N, I know you better than you know yourself.” He gave you a sly wink before he slipped back to lay his head back down. “Just relax, whatever it is you’re thinking, I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

You open your mouth to protest but a loud booming voice of your name echoed in your ears. 

“Y/N. . .Y/N. . . Wake up!” The voice of your younger sister bleeding through as you jolted awake. “Coachman said we’re nearly there.” Through bleary eyes, you glanced about your surroundings. Seated across from you was your sister, Jia, who stared at you as you blinked away the sleep from your eyes. You turned your head to the window, watching as the green countryside slowly began to turn into the village outside the castle. 

“How long was I out?” You inquired as you moved to sit up properly.

“A few hours,” she responded with a shrug. “Did you have a nice dream?”

“How would you know I was dreaming?” You asked her, still fatigued from the unplanned nap.

“You were smiling.” 

Your heart stung at her words; the question was innocent enough, but a reminder of the hurt you’ve felt since that night. You almost didn’t want to answer her original question, but the eager look on her face had you sighing. No way in hell would she go without an answer. Keeping a neutral face, you replied. “It was a pleasant dream.” That was all you said. There was a slight twinge of disappointment, but she took the answer nonetheless. 

 Letting out a sigh, you leaned back against the wall of the carriage, thinking back on the dream. It had been almost 7 years since that night with the prince. That was the last, what one might call, intimate moment with him. Because since that night, you had both been bombarded with your respective duties; him as prince and you as a duke to be. Surely you had seen him between then and now, but those moments were brief and far inbetween. In fact the last time you saw him was at the funeral of your father, sometime last year. You don’t remember much of that meeting, overwhelmed with grief to even process that he was giving you his condolences. 

But soon enough, you shall be reunited with the Crown Prince for this 25th birthday. Normally you would’ve been excited about going to see Seokjin, all you could feel in your stomach was dread. The reason being as to your visit was because his usual birthday ball had been twisted by his father for him to find a bride. All the eligible ladies in the land, which included your sister, were invited for him to pick one of them out as his future wife. The mere thought of it had you sick to your stomach. Your sister had a possibility of marrying your childhood best friend and your unrequited love, and you had to stand back and watch.

“Can you tell me again what he’s like?” Jia’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Being a few years younger than you, she never got a chance to truly interact with Seokjin; and since the trip began, hell even before then when the invitation arrived, every few hours she would ask about him. What he was like, what he liked, if he was nice. Why she would ask this when all she had to do was wait a few hours before meeting him herself, you’d never understand. 

“Prince Seokjin is nice. He enjoys reading the history of the 7 kingdoms. When his father goes out hunting, he is usually required to join, but he will do anything he can to get out of it.” You droned as you stared out the window, surveying the commoners as you passed them by. 

“You’ve told me all this before though,” she whined, “What else is there to know about him? What was he like when you were boys?” When you remained silent, she poked at your knee, attempting to get some sort of answer out of you. “Come on, Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention towards Jia. “He’s always been fascinated with food and the process the cook would go about making it.” You started, noticing how your sister leaned forward, hanging on your every word. “We’d sneak into the kitchens, and he would just watch the cook as he cut up vegetables and meats. He’d go on about how if he wasn’t the prince, he’d want to be the cook.”

Jia barked out a laugh, “Did he really? For such a handsome man, he sure has some interesting habits.”

You gave a noncommittal hum as your stare returned to the window, watching as the villagers made their way out of the street and gawk at your carriage in awe. You could tell the journey was slowly coming to a close, and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to end yet. The dirt road turned to cobblestone beneath the wheels, it was only a matter of minutes before you arrived at the palace steps. 

Jia frantically began flattening out her gown and making sure her hair wasn’t out of place. The trip from Philos Castle to the Clast Manor was merely a half day's ride, it wasn’t like much had changed from when she had left.

You exited the coach first, immediately greeted by a handful of guards who were lined up the stairs of the castle. You wondered how long they’d been there and how long they’d have to be until everyone had arrived. Glancing about, you saw that there were a few more carriages arriving in the courtyard. 

The clearing of Jia’s throat pulled you back to the task at hand, you extended your arm out for her to grab onto as she stepped out onto the cobblestone. “Wow,” she awed as she stared up at the vast castle before her. You couldn’t blame her, the sight of Philos Castle was something to behold, especially if it was your first time seeing it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the footmen pulling down your luggage and ready to carry it to your rooms. A silent notice that it was time for the two of you to get going. “Come along, Sister.” You started as you began to climb the steps.

Upon reaching the main entrance, you were greeted with the familiar face of the Steward, who perpetually looked like he had just tasted the world’s most sour candy. “Your Grace,” he bowed to you. “And Lady Jia. The King and prince are greeting their guests in the Grand Hall. Follow me.” That said, he turned and made his way down the hall. With you and your sister on his heels practically the entire way, you arrived at the Grand Hall.

The Grand Hall certainly lived up to its name. With high ceilings, beautiful pieces of art mounted on the walls, all glittering in the light of a golden chandelier. It was the picturesque dream of wealth and beauty. But all of its beauty couldn’t compare to Prince Seokjin, who stood at the end of the hall. Since the last time you saw him nearly a year ago, he still looked as handsome as ever. He was smiling at his father when the two of you entered, but when his gaze turned to you, you swore his smile grew bigger; brighter even. Keeping your eyes forward, you could feel Seokjin’s gaze on you, not wavering as you got closer. 

Next to him, the King let out a loud belly laugh as the two of you approached him. “Ah, Clast! It’s good to see you, my boy.” He bellowed out as you and your sister stopped in front of him.

“It’s good to see you too, Your Majesty.” You responded as you and your sister bowed respectively before him, all the while you could feel the prince’s burning stare. “May I introduce my sister, the Lady Jia.” With her introduction, she curtsied again before the two royals. 

“It’s a pleasure, Your Majesty.” She smiled as she rose up.

“The pleasure is all mine. I assume you know my son, Seokjin.” He gestured to his right to where the prince stood, silently staring at you. “Seokjin!” His father hissed, catching his attention.

His head jerked to attention at his name being called. “Sorry, yes. It’s lovely to see you again Clast- and meet you too, of course, Lady Jia.” He stumbled over his words as he bowed his head. “Apologies, my mind has been elsewhere.”

“It’s no worries, Your Highness.” You waved off his slip. 

“Anyways!” The King clasped his hands together. “The two of you must be tired from your journey, the steward shall show you to your chambers.” He gestured to the same sourface Steward stepped forward. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow night, Clast.”

“I can’t wait, Your Majesty.” You returned the king’s sentiments as you and your sister were led out of the hall, still feeling the prince’s stare seer into your back as you walked further and further away from the Grand Hall. 

Soon as the Grand Hall was far behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Had seeing Seokjin again affected you this much? While you had managed pretty fine to hold yourself together for that meeting, how on Earth were you going to manage the ball where he had to choose a wife? You couldn’t avoid him, there’s no doubt he’d want to catch up after not seeing you at all the past year. God, you felt like a fool for coming and thinking you’d be able to push your feelings out of the way. But your mother and sister jumped at the chance for the possibility of marrying the prince. Thus, you had no choice but to accompany your sister to the palace.

As the Steward led you down the winding hallways, you noticed that the hallways started to become more and more familiar. Considering you had dreamt of these hallways mere hours ago, it wasn’t that hard to place them from your memory. The King had set aside certain rooms for your family when you visited, you can’t say you were surprised or not about them still being set aside for you. Perhaps it was to still honor your father, or keep the good relationship between your families. However you were surprised to see the Steward stop in front of the heavy oak door of the room that was once your father’s. 

“Your Grace shall be staying here,” he announced as he opened the door. You stepped through the threshold, inhaling deeply as you glanced around the space. Your trunk was at the foot of the bed. The same bed he slept in, the same desk he worked at, the same books he read on the shelves. What felt stranger how despite the room not being occupied in years, it still held the same scent of leather bound books and ink. The scent of your father. “I hope the chamber is to your liking.” The Steward’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.” 

“Very well, if the Lady Jia could please follow me.” With that, he shut the door. The distinct steps of him and your sister fade away down the hall as he escorted her away. 

Now alone, realization began to creep over you. When the invitation to the prince’s ball arrived you didn’t want it to be true. In fact, you almost pushed it so far back in your mind you nearly tricked yourself into believing it was just a bad dream. One that you’d wake up from any moment now. But now that you were finally there at the palace, a mere day away from the event. You were going to be sick. 

The sick knot in your stomach didn’t leave you the rest of the day, despite your best attempts at any distraction. You tried to keep ahead on some of the needs and resources of your providence, read a few chapters of a book you pulled from one of the shelves, changed out of your traveling clothes, anything to keep your mind off the inevitable ball tomorrow night yet nothing seemed to succeed. 

By the time the sun had fallen below the horizon, you still felt the overwhelming dread. So much so that you barely ate the dinner that was privately presented to you, barely being able to get more than a few bites down. In the midst of picking at your meat, there was a knock on your door. Curious as to who would be here so late in the evening, you unlatched the door to see Prince Seokjin standing before you.

“Y-Your Highness,” you stuttered out, not expecting him at such an hour. 

“Are we really referring to each other as titles? I thought we knew each other better than that, Y/N.” He said with a breathy laugh. 

The sound of his voice speaking your name was music to your ears. Loving the way each syllable fell off his lips, before you could stare at his mouth any longer than you probably already were, you cleared your throat. “Seokjin,” his face lit up when you called him by his name, “what are you doing here?”

“I thought we could catch up a bit? Seeing how we weren’t able to properly when you first arrived.” He shrugged, as if the plans were obvious. 

You hesitated a bit, seeing the late hour and if this would even do your heart any good considering you had 24 hours to attempt to get over him. 

“If you don’t want to, I understand.” He added, filling the silence you had provided. “It’s late, and you had a long journey. I’ll let you rest.” He began to turn, disappointment evident on his face.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, your hand wrapping around his wrist. When you realized how brash your action was, you released him, silently cursing yourself. “We can catch up, if that is what you wish.”

A smile grew on his face. “Of course! You still like stars, correct?”

You were taken back by his question. While you still had the fascination with stars, you had very little time nowadays to look at them. In fact the last time you even had time to look at stars was the night from your dream, when the prince laid down next to you in the castle gardens. Since that night, you’ve been too exhausted to stay up late enough to examine the night sky. “Yes?” 

“Brilliant! Follow me,” he grabbed your hand and whisked you down the hallway, barely giving you enough time to shut your door. Seokjin led you through the passages, only the moonlight shining through the windows to guide you. Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, with your hand snug in his grasp. 

He led you up a large door. With his free hand, Seokjin opened it, exposing a staircase before you. As the two of you started to climb up, you were beginning to recognize where you were going. “Are we-?”

“Shh! We’re almost there!” He shushed you as you arrived at the top of the stairs, revealing the observatory to you. You’re in absolute awe of the room, the large windows making up the walls and ceilings; the moon fully illuminating your surroundings. “Over here!” Seokjin tugged you towards the direction of one of the windows, a telescope set up and ready for use. 

You pulled your hand from his grasp and let your hands trace over the cool brass, enthralled with the device before you. When the two of you were boys, you weren’t allowed in the tower observatory in fear that you might break something. When you got older, you’d only been in there once before, but never beneath a clear night sky. 

A rush of chill air hit your body, you looked up to see the prince had opened up a window, giving more room for the telescope. “Take a look!” He stepped away from the device, making space for you.

Leaning down, you peered into the eyepiece. A gasp escaped your lips as you took in the brilliance of the stars right before your very eyes. You could pinpoint a few of the constellations you remember reading about. But instead of the fuzzy dots you were so used to seeing, you saw them clearly; they seemed even brighter. “Wow, Seokjin, I. . .” you straightened to look at him, who looked very pleased with himself, “I don’t know what to say? This is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years.” That was partially a lie. He was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life, nothing could top him. 

“You’re welcome,” he said with a sly smile. “I got it recently and I thought of you.”

“You. . . thought of me?” Your heart fluttered at the thought.

“Of course, Y/N.” He took a step closer to you, “I always think of you.” His words were soft as he gently raised his hand to your face, brushing a few stray hairs from your eyes. Your breath hitched as the tips of his fingers grazed over your skin. Meeting his eyes, you noticed for a split second that his gaze flickered down to your mouth. Then he slowly began to lean towards you. Your feet turned to stone, you couldn’t move as he got closer and closer to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. It couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. Your mind was racing at a million thoughts a second, as Seokjin got closer and closer. Just about when the prince’s lips seemed to hover over your own-

DONG

The sound of a clock chimed loudly in the observatory, shattering the moment and bringing you back to reality. Immediately, you stepped away from Seokjin, your face burning hot. “It’s late. I- I need to get to bed.” You turned away from him, embarrassed at what had just happened. 

“Right.” There was a twinge of dismay in his voice as he spoke. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“That won’t be necessary!” You cringed at how quickly you rejected his offer. “It’s late, and your chambers are farther than mine. Goodnight, Your Highness.” You bowed your head then rapidly made your way back down the stairs, barely hearing the prince’s ‘Goodnight’ in return. 

The following morning you did not want to get out of bed. You did not- could not face the prince again after last night. What happened had to have been a dream, it had to be. But the clear memory of the stars, how you could vividly recall the way your hand fit into his all proved you otherwise. It actually happened, and you couldn’t help but feel humiliated. He was getting married soon, for God Sake! And it couldn’t be you. It will never be you. 

Eventually had to get up. Dressing yourself up a bit, but you remained in your room. Deciding to read and work on any paperwork, distracting yourself from even thinking about Seokjin. 

You managed to do so quite nicely up until the hours before the ball was to start. Outside your window, spotting the hustling of all the castle staff trying to finish up the last of the preparations, scrambling to get them done. However all the chaos from outside the window and outside your door pulled you from your progress of not thinking of the prince or the party. All throughout the halls, people were gossipping about the prince and which lady he would choose as his possible wife. 

When the clock struck the hour, signalling that the ball was to start, you knocked on the door to your sister’s chambers. “If that’s you Y/N, I’m nearly ready. You can come in!” She called from the inside. With a roll of your eyes, you pushed open the door to see your sister sitting in front of a vanity, a maid-servant finishing up her hair. Looking at you through the mirror, Jia lips quirked up into a smile. “Why don’t you look handsome, Brother.”

You take a quick glance at yourself behind her; you’re dressed only more elevated than usual. Fresh pair of trousers and shoes on, your waistcoat buttoned neatly, and your hair is more styled. Other than that, you look practically the same as you would on any other day. Not wanting to argue with your sister, you merely bowed your head in thanks. 

“What do you think of the dress?” Jia asked as the maid finished with her hair, she stood to reveal the full picture. The style of the dress was similar to something she had worn to your ascension, yet this was light blue in color. There was no grand design amongst the dress, it was simple and fitting. 

“You look lovely,” you responded.

“Thank you. You said he liked blue, correct?” She questioned as she began to slip on her gloves.

“Pardon?” 

“The prince? His favorite color is blue?” She clarified as she walked over to you. “Honestly, Y/N, where is your head? I’m trying to gain his favor. Helps that I have his best friend as a brother.” She chortled as she linked arms with you. 

“Right, yes. He favors blue.” You muttered as you turned towards the door. “Right, well, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late.” You forced a cheerful tone. With that, your sister smiled at you and you began to make your way towards the ballroom. 

Already you saw lines of fabulously dressed noble women and royals from across the seven kingdoms, all willing to try and win Prince Seokjin’s affections. You saw a few familiar faces as you escorted your sister about the room; friends of your late father, fellow dukes and viscounts, even a couple visiting princes. All of which were either here to escort the most eligible woman in their family or merely showing support for the prince’s birthday. 

About an hour in, Jia excused herself to try and gain a dance with the prince, leaving you standing alone at the sidelines; watching Seokjin dance with lady after lady after lady. He was a talented dancer, dancing gracefully with each partner. With each dance, you couldn’t help but notice a disinterested look grow on his face. A few times when you thought he caught your eye, you spotted a glimmer in his eye. A spark of happiness that managed to peak through his facade. But when he turned, causing his partner to face you. You saw a proud smirk on their face, as if they were the ones that made him perk up. 

“Clast? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to you. Turning your head to follow the voice, you spotted the owner of the voice. Prince Yoongi of Lun was making his way towards you, pushing his way through the crowd. “It’s good to see you.” He held his hand out for you to shake.

With a smile, you took it. “Good to see you too, Your Highness. How are things?”

“Good, everything is good. You’re here on behalf of your sister, I suppose?” He asked as his hand retreated.

The mention of your sister had your chest aching, reminding you of the entire situation once again. “Y-yes. She is somewhere in the crowd, waiting her turn.” Hopeful that he didn’t catch on to your hesitation; you gestured over to the dance floor, as if you couldn’t see her waiting at the front of it. 

It was clear that he had noticed it, yet he didn’t point it out, only saying “I see.” He turned to face the crowd next to you, standing in silence as the band played on. “Have you married yet, Clast?” He questioned.

“No, h-haven’t had the time.” Your basic response to whenever anyone questioned your marital status, a normal question made by men wanting to set you up with their daughters. Why would Yoongi be asking you that though, you thought to yourself, unless he was thinking about asking to set you up with someone? But that couldn’t be, as you don’t recall him having any female relatives. 

“Not having the time. . .” He repeated, laughing softly to himself. “Surely you’ve had enough time, attending balls like this? You’re a young man with a title, young ladies and their mothers must be crawling over you.” He further inquired. 

“Well, yes. . .” you struggled to rack your mind for a plausible excuse. He was for the most part correct, parties like this usually had young eligible noble women practically throwing themselves on to you. But upon your excuse, they usually backed away. Not further question you. “It’s just-uh-” 

Before you managed to come up with a concrete answer, Yoongi spoke again. “You don’t need to answer that. But to a degree, I can understand you.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow?”

“You’re in love, are you not?” He turned his head to you, a knowing expression. You opened your mouth to deny it, but no words came out. “It’s clear as day. But for some reason, you cannot be with them. Yet you long to be.” His face seemed to fall a bit at his words and he turned to face the crowd again. “Believe me, you’re not alone in that sort of suffering.” His gaze fixated on a young male servant, who stood at the edge of the ballroom, tray in hand. For a fraction of a second, you saw a soft smile across his face. But soon as the smile was there, it was gone. “Take my advice, don’t let him get away.” He gave your shoulder a firm pat before he walked back into the crowd, not permitting a response from you. 

Glancing back to the center of the dance floor, you made eye contact with Seokjin. This time there was no denying it. He beamed at you and suddenly all the people in the room seemed to fade away, like it was only the two of you. He was radiant in the light of the ballroom, his smile radiating happiness. Yoongi was right, you were in love with the prince and you wanted nothing more than to be by his side. 

With his advice echoing in your mind, you moved to take a step forward but your legs felt like lead. All at once, the golden glow of the ballroom faded to grey; the prince’s bright light dimmed, dark shadows danced at the edge of your vision. You could feel all of the court staring at you, whispering amongst themselves. Jia’s eyes were locked on you, fire burning in them The King frowned in disapproval. There were too many eyes on you. Your heartbeat was in your ears, throbbing against your skull. At the center of it all, Seokjin stood out in the crowd, his features twisted with concern. He mouthed something to you, something you couldn’t make out. You took a step backward, it felt easier than moving forward. You took another, and another, until you turned on your feet and dashed out of the ballroom. 

Air, you needed air. Quickly, you weaved your way through the busy hallways until you found the door to the garden terrace. Thankfully, no one from the party seemed to have come outside as of recently, leaving you alone. You let your hands rest upon the stone railing as you caught your breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. Raising your head up, you stare up at the sky, the moon staring back down at you. 

“You alright?” Whipping around, you saw Seokjin standing in front of you, the light of the open door behind him giving him a golden halo. “Y/N?”

You turned back around, staring back out into the gardens. “I’m fine.”

His steps against the stone echoed, only stopping once he was practically right behind you. “Don’t lie to me, what happened?”

You barely understood what had happened. One moment you were filled with confidence, ready to pull him to the side to speak with him. Then the next you felt nothing but shame. The judgement of the court, your sister, the king. You couldn’t tell him. Yoongi had sweet sentiment, but it just couldn’t be. He was the prince! And you were a duke. A man. You wouldn’t even be able to openly tell him you love him, let alone marry him! “I needed some air.”

“I could use some too, it was getting stuffy in there.” He responded as he continued to stand behind you.  “Come on. We could both use a little break from the excitement.” You didn’t move, it was a bad idea to go with him. Just return to the party and move on. “Y/N. . ?”

Despite your better judgment, you turned to face him. His beautiful smile grew once you faced him. “Lead the way.”

He led you down the stairs of the terrace and into the gardens. Neither of you said anything, letting the music of the ball fade away into the sounds of the night. The further you walked away from the palace, the less concerned you found yourself about if the people were going to come looking for you. It was only you and Seokjin now.

He took a turn off the path, walking over the lawn towards the roses. Spotting a stone bench, he seated himself, you continued standing beside him. “You can sit, Y/N.” He gestured to the spot beside him. You hesitated for a moment before finally sitting down next to him. His knees brushed against yours as you both stared out over the gardens. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked after a moment.

“Nothing is bothering me.” 

“Y/N, I know you better than you know yourself.” Repeating the very same words he said nearly 7 years ago. “What’s the matter?”

Taking a deep breath, you answered. “You’re getting married.”

Seokjin frowned at your admission. “What on Earth gave you that idea?”

It was your turn to be confused. “Your father? On the invitations, it was a call that you’d be picking your future bride at this very ball.” You explained. 

“Believe me when I say this Y/N,” he took your hands in his, “I have no intentions of picking a bride tonight nor ever.”

Those last few words echoed around in your brian. “Ever?”

“I can’t be with someone who I don’t love,” he said as if it were obvious. “When I become king, the only person I want by my side is you.”

Your hands grew clammy as your heart pounded against your ribs. “Seokjin, what are you saying?”

“Is it not obvious?” His hands moved to cup your face. When you met his eyes, the poor attempt at a wall that you tried to build over your heart broke away. 

“I need to hear you say it,” your voice faltered, barely above a whisper. 

Leaning in closer, his breath fanned over your lips. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for barely a moment before you closed the gap between you two. Your eyes fell shut and the entire world melted away, leaving only you and Seokjin being the only sole beings in that moment. And oh how you wanted to live in that moment forever. To know nothing else but the feel of his lips against yours, the sweet scent of the roses around you, the brisk air of the night tickling any exposed skin as you clung to each other. 

You don’t know when but tears had begun to roll over your cheeks. The wetness passed over your lips, tasting of salt as you continued to kiss. The slight bitter taste had him pulling away, eliciting a whine to fall from you. He couldn’t leave now, not after how long you’ve dreamt of this moment! Opening your eyes, the blurry outline of Seokjin was whipping away your tears. Blinking the rest of them away, the clear image of him filled your mind, taking notes of any little detail. You had to remember this moment for the rest of your life.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was soft as his thumb caressed your tear stained face. 

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” You responded, the last coming out in a sort of chuckle. Baffled at your own emotions. 

“No more tears, love.” He brought his lips to your forehead, pressing a small kiss to it. “No more tears.”

Despite you nodding in agreeance, more tears fell from your eyes. Whether it be tears of relief or joy, you couldn’t stop them from flowing. Placing one of your hands over his, you leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. You opened your mouth but you could even manage to get a word out, a shout was heard. 

“Prince Seokjin! Your Highness? Where are you?” An unfamiliar male voice called out.

Within a second, you pulled yourself away from him, fearful of being caught. Seokjin closed his eyes, letting out a huff, clearly upset with the interruption. “It appears our company has been missed.” He sighed as he stood up, straightening his overcoat.  “I’m here! Clast and I were merely stepping away for a moment.” 

The servant appeared around the corner; with the cover of the night, you doubt he saw you kissing, but you couldn’t be sure until he spoke again. “The King is calling for you, sir. He wants you to dance with the Princess of Maldonia.”

“Thank you, I’ll be with him right away.” Seokjin gave him a tight smile as he dismissed the servant, who promptly bowed and scurried back towards the party. “I’m sorry.” He sat back down, taking one of your hands in his. 

“No, it’s not your fault.” 

“But there’s so much we need to discuss-”

“Seokjin,” you squeezed his hand, “we’ll figure it out.”

With a smile on his lips, he kissed you one last time before standing again. The two of you walked hand in hand back towards the castle again. He stopped when you reached the stairs to the terrace. “I’ll send a letter to your room later tonight, I would stop by but I fear my father isn’t going to be happy with hearing me not choosing a bride.” He chuckled, looking down at your still linked fingers. 

You laughed with him, before falling silent. The music of the party reminded you that you couldn’t remain there forever. “You need to go.” Seokjin didn’t move yet, still staring down at your hands, trying his damnedest to turn a single moment into a thousand. 

“Not yet.”

Unfortunately, as soon as the words left his mouth the servant stepped out onto the terrace, forcing him to drop your hand. “Your Highness, the King is growing impatient.”

With a sigh, he made his way up the stairs. Once he reached the top, he looked back down at you. His smile was back on, glowing and beautiful, yet his eyes were pained as he spoke. “Good talk, Clast. Enjoy the rest of the party.” Then he turned toward the servant, following him back into the brightly lit hallways of the castle. 

 The rest of the party went by in a blur. When you returned to the ballroom, your sister came up to you and complained about how she didn’t get a chance to dance with Seokjin before he started dancing with the Princess of Maldonia. Whatever she said you didn’t hear, because you were too busy looking for the prince but he was nowhere to be found. The only prince you did make eye contact with was Prince Yoongi, who was standing across the hall, a knowing look on his face. 

By the time the party was over and you had returned to your room, you were anxious to wait for Seokjin’s letter. You couldn’t help but think about what it might contain. Plans for the future? His feelings about you? You stayed up waiting for a servant to knock or perhaps it would slide beneath the door. 

Yet nothing arrived. 

You waited until the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, but nothing came. Laying down on your bed, you felt a knot grow deep in your stomach. You thought of a million scenarios as to why. Perhaps by the time he talked with his father he fell asleep soon as he reached his room, or maybe he fell asleep writing it. You tried to be reasonable with your thoughts, but your mid went to darker places as you laid there. Did his father get mad at him for not wanting to choose someone and throw him in the dungeon? Were you spotted and he was getting punished? Would they come for you next? Or what you thought could be even worse, did he regret his confession?

It was 10 o’clock when a servant came to wake you, finding you red eyed and exhausted. He was clearly shocked by your current state, as you could see by his face, but he said nothing on it. “Your sister is nearly ready to go, Your Grace.”

“I’ll be ready in a moment,” you grumbled as you pulled yourself out of the bed. The servant bowed before he left, probably to get your carriage ready. One half of you wanted to get ready as fast as possible, leave the castle and never return. You’d hide away in Clast Manor forever. But the other half wanted to stay, find Seokjin and demand an answer as to why nothing came. 

Once you were dressed and reorganizing your belongings into your trunk, there was a knock, followed by Jia throwing the door to your chambers open; quickly followed by some footmen. 

“You were apprehensive to come and now you’re stalling to leave?” She raised a brow at your still open trunk.

 “Had a lot on my mind, I apologize.” You dryly apologized as the servants shut your case and began carrying it out of the room. Your answer didn’t seem to satisfy her, as she rolled her eyes at you. “Let’s get going then,” you held out your arm for her to take. With a huff, she linked arms with you. The two of you walked in silence as your steps echoed in the halls. 

As you turned towards the staircase that would lead you towards the entry hall, you heard your name called out. Turning, you spotted Seokjin running towards you. Glancing at your sister, she looked confused as the prince was making quite a hurry to get to you. 

“Go wait by the carriage,” you told her, kissing her cheek. “I promise I’ll join you soon.”

“You better, or else I’m leaving without you.” She muttered as she started down the stairs, the footmen following behind her. 

You watched her descend as Seokjin arrived behind you; putting on a brave face, you faced him. He looked nearly as tired as you were, yet somehow he managed to make dark circles under his eyes attractive. Opening your mouth to say something, he pulled you off to the side of the hall, hiding behind a larger planter. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to deliver it sooner,” he huffed out as he placed a sealed parchment in your hand.

“I-” you were stunned, for a moment you truly thought he might’ve regretted what happened last night. Yet here he was, parchment in hand. “Why? What took you so long?

“I uh- Well. . . you’ll know in the letter.” He waved your question away before taking both of your hands in his. “Promise me you’ll write as soon as possible? Please?”

You stared down at your joined hands, and all the hurt feelings from the night bubbled up to the surface again. The anxiety, fear, betrayal. It all came rushing back, but as you looked up to speak your mind, your words died in your throat. His pleading eyes bored into yours and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Sucking in a breath, you nodded. “I promise.”

Seokjin looked like he was going to cry as he heard your words, pulling you into his arms. You attempted to resist for a moment before melting into his embrace; wishing you didn’t have to leave so soon. Wishing you had more time to talk. His lips grazed over the shell of your ear,  his breath fanned against your skin as he hesitated for a moment. He said nothing as he pressed a kiss then he pulled away. He gave you one last fleeting smile before he ran back down the hall, disappearing behind a corner.

Stuffing the letter into your pocket, you made your way down the stairs. As you approached the bottom, you came across the King as he was bidding some of his guests goodbye. Despite how badly you wished to leave as soon as possible, you couldn’t risk not saying goodbye to your host.

“Ah, there you are Clast! I hope you enjoyed the ball!” He said as he shook your hand tightly. 

“It was a wonderful party, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.” 

“But of course! I hope you can come around again for the wedding!” He patted your hand as he let go.

“W-wedding, Your Majesty?” You questioned as he turned to the person behind you.

“Goodbye, Clast. Have a pleasant trip home!” Either he didn’t hear you or he was purposefully ignoring the question. Whichever it was, your head felt like it was spinning as you exited the palace doors. 

You spotted your carriage not far from the base of the steps, Jia looking thoroughly annoyed in the window as she waited for you. Carefully as you could, you made a beeline for the door. You didn’t even give a footman enough time to step down and open the door for you, just throwing it open and clambering in.

“Your Grace-?”

“Just go!” You snapped, waving your hand to signal for the coach to get moving. Seokjin’s letter burned through your clothes, you wanted nothing more than to rip it open and find out for yourself what the King meant by a wedding and what his explanation was. But with Jia sitting across from you, who was eyeing you like a caged animal, you had to wait till you returned home. 

The journey to Philos was a long drag you will admit, but the return to Clast Manor felt like ages in  comparison. Jia must’ve sensed your agitation as she said nothing the entire way back, not even a word when you stopped for supper at an inn a quarter through the way home. Soon as you arrived back at the manor, you took off towards your bedroom, not even bothering to greet your mother or other siblings. You could hear the murmurings of your family as you clambered up the staircase. 

Once behind the safety of your locked chambers, you lit an oil lamp and pulled Seokjin’s letter out from your coat pocket. Your fingers traced over the seal of the prince, staring at the blue wax for a moment. The seal should’ve settled your anxiety yet it continued to bubble deep in your stomach. Breaking open the wax, you unfolded the paper to read what explanation Seokjin might have. 

My dearest, Y/N

I’m sorry for such a delay, but I have unfortunate news. Apparently the ball was merely a facade of choice for me, Father has gone behind my back and arranged a marriage between the Maldonian Princess and myself in a fortnight. Upon my refusal, he locked me away in my room and won’t  let me out until I agree to the union. With you waiting and about to leave in the morning, I have no other choice but to say yes. By the time you have read this, I will be engaged.

So there was your explanation of the wedding, the King was referencing. Your heart ached at the words, hating the news, but you read on. 

I’ve devised a plan though, a plan for you and me to flee Philos and live together far away. Where no one can ever find us ever again. My title shall go to my cousin Hoseok, he shall rule Philos instead of I. Remember all those games and stories we made up where we didn’t have to be king or duke? Those dreams can become our reality! I know it sounds insane, but I’m ready and willing to do it. 

For you.

Write back to me as soon as you can and we can begin our plot.

Until I see you again, 

Seokjin

Your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall onto the parchment. Not daring to drop the precious letter, you ran over to your desk and scrambled for fresh parchment. You were soaring above the clouds as you seated yourself down, reading your pen and ink. You held nothing back as you accepted his proposal to run away, ready and willing at any moment he proposed. You didn’t care about the ink droplets that fell or any scribbles of words you misspelled. All that mattered was you sent the letter off at first light. 

Without even thinking, you heated up the blue ink your mother had not so subtly been purchasing for you, in hopes you’d find yourself a lover or a wife anytime soon. Pressing your personal seal into the hot wax, you officialized your promise to Seokjin. 

Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the exhaustion of not sleeping at all the night before slowly caught up on you, barely giving you enough time to even properly undress before you collapsed onto your bed. That night you dreamt of your new life with Seokjin. The two of you so far away from anyone you might know, living in a cottage at the edge of the woods, perhaps selling bread to a nearby village. The both of you together, completely happy.

When you woke up the following morning, rushing down to a messenger to send off your letter to Philos at once. Despite the confusion of you just being there, the messenger followed the order and rode off fast as he could. The rest of the day you were in a chipper attitude, something your family was a bit surprised at considering the grim demeanor you held leaving the manor and arriving back last night.

However the happy attitude could last so long. 

It should only take a day or two for the prince to respond to your correspondence, but when your messenger arrived back empty handed, you felt the familiar flood of anxiety rush through you again. You dismissed it though, perhaps he’s following through with his father and visiting Maldonia for some reason or other. Waiting a few more days, yet nothing arrived. You crafted another letter and sent it off with a different messenger that night. The only thing that returned was a wedding invitation.

You dropped the letter off in the parlor where your family were all visibly excited about a wedding. The only one sharing your glum mood of the announcement was Jia, who was mourning the loss of such a match. You didn’t even bother telling her it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, just sitting in silence as your littlest sister talked about how pretty a royal wedding was going to be. 

The day of the wedding your mother all but dragged you out of bed to go, not even giving you a moment to even feign sickness. 

“You must go in support of your future king and friend! I won’t have you wasting away all the work your father did for us to continue to be close friends of the royal family.” She scolded you, throwing wear onto your bed. With your younger siblings staying behind; you, Jia, your mother, and your other brother all got into the carriage and started off towards the capitol.

The city was decorated with ribbons and flowers as crowds of people lined up along the streets, waiting for a chance to get a glimpse at the royals and nobles arriving. You wished to be home at the manor, a nearby kingdom, just anywhere but have the man who broke your heart and made a fool of you stand in front of you and get married.

Exiting the carriage, you joined the line of the court to be escorted into the Grand Hall. With your mother on your arm, she pointed out the things that have changed since her last visit, but her chittering fell on deaf ears, you simply stared off into the distance as the entrance to the Grand Hall grew closer and closer. By the time you had arrived at the threshold, you were greeted by the king. 

“Ah, Duke and Dowager Duchess of Clast, lovely to see you both.” The King greeted you as you both bowed before him. Taking your mother’s hand, he pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “And you’re looking wonderful, Dowager.”

“Oh thank you, Your Majesty. You’re too kind,” she giggled, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the scene. 

“Clast, I'm glad you could make it.” He shook your hand next, “Seokjin has been. . . anxious to hear from you. He’d be so happy to see you’re here.” His grip on your hand tightened as his words began to register with you. 

“Wait-”

“Enjoy the wedding,” he released your hand and moved on to the next guest. Your mother pulled you and your siblings in the direction of the pews. The voices of all the people echoing against the walls became muffled as you were seated down in the front of the hall, right in front of the altar. Thoughts were rushing through your mind faster than you could think of them. 

Does that mean Seokjin didn’t purposefully not respond? Did he even receive your letters? Did his father know? How did his father know? You had to find Seokjin, perhaps you could come up with some sort of plan and you could still run away together after the wedding. You just had to find him-

The sound of a horn silenced the Grand Hall, everyone falling quiet as they stood and watched the Crown Prince walk down the aisle. The breath was sucked out of your lungs as he walked past you. He looked absolutely regal in his royal wear, his crown placed perfectly on his head, he looked every bit of the prince he was. The only give away there was to his true mood was his eyes; there were dark circles under his eyes, deeper than they were the last time you saw him. When he stopped at the altar, he turned, his eyes surveyed across the court.

His eyes met yours and his gaze sharpened. You felt all the hurt and pain you’ve been feeling returned to you tenfold in that moment alone. You wanted to run to him, scream and cry out for him. Tell him that you did write back, that you did want to run away with him, but you were frozen in your place. 

When the music started up again, his eyes snapped to the aisle to watch his bride. He remained focused on the Maldonian Princess standing in front of him. The entire ceremony your eyes never left Seokjin, silently begging- pleading for him to turn and look at you. 

But he never did.