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edenesth · 5 months

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The Way to His Heart [6]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 5 | Fic Masterlist | Part 7

"Please enjoy your meal, master and mistress. We hope the dishes are to your liking." The servants bowed before leaving the hall after serving dinner for the night.

Sitting up straight, hands folded on your lap, you patiently awaited Seonghwa to begin eating. The enticing aroma of the dishes made your mouth water, and your eyes gleamed as you observed your husband's hands reaching for his chopsticks.

He noticed your gaze, smiled, and rather than taking a piece of meat for himself, he surprised you by placing it in your bowl instead, "Eat up; you must be hungry."

The general sighed as he saw you hesitating to start eating until he had taken the first bite. Amused, he set down his chopsticks and watched as you slumped in your seat, seemingly disappointed that he hadn't begun eating yet.

"Why are you still sitting around? Go ahead and eat," He said, and your eyes widened, "But, my lord, how can I—"

Shaking his head, he picked up his spoon and reached for a tofu dish he had noticed you eyeing for some time, scooping up just enough before holding it to your lips, "Here, you want this, don't you?" Before you could protest, he pushed it closer to you, "Open up before I change my mind," and you couldn't resist, taking a bite.

Eunsook couldn't help snickering into her fist as she witnessed the adorable interaction. You chewed cluelessly on your food, eyes sparkling as you savoured the flavour, while Seonghwa continued to eat with the same spoon, indirectly sharing a kiss with you.

Throughout dinner, your husband focused more on taking care of you, he filled your bowl with a variety of dishes and wiped the corners of your lips whenever your excitement caused a mess. After finishing his own meal, he continued to watch you with admiration as you kept eating.

Concern crept in when he noticed your movements slowing down, and you started breathing rather heavily. It seemed like you were already full but were pushing yourself to eat more, "Hey, slow down. Are you full? You need to stop eating if you are."

You shook your head, reaching for another slice of rolled omelette. Furrowing his brows, he realised you were struggling to swallow. Why were you continuing to eat if you were already so full? It was as if you didn't know when your next meal would be, and you were trying to consume as much as possible for the time being.

"Stop, stop," He repeated firmly, gently holding your wrist and taking the chopsticks from your hand, "Look at me," You took your eyes off the food and finally met his gaze, "Are you afraid you won't get to eat again?" You avoided eye contact and that confirmed his suspicion, it broke his heart to see you still in survival mode.

Feeling like you had done something wrong, you bowed your head and nervously fiddled with your fingers, "I-I'm sorry... I just have never had a proper meal like this before, a-and..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," He assured, moving to hold your hands and rubbing his thumb over your skin comfortingly, "You're the mistress of this estate now. You can eat anything you want at any time. All you have to do is call for the servants, and they will serve you. As long as I live, you never have to worry about not being able to eat again, you hear me?"

You nodded, moved by the sincerity in his tone and the warmth in his touch and gaze, "I understand. Thank you, my lord."

However, he seemed unsatisfied with something you said, contemplating for a moment before murmuring, "Seonghwa. Just Seonghwa, please."

Your eyes widened, "Wh-what?"

He looked away from your questioning gaze, embarrassed, "You're my wife now, there's no need to be so formal. Just call me Seonghwa from now on."

"Okay... S-Seonghwa." You muttered unsurely, suppressing the blush on your cheeks as he lifted his eyes to stare at you in wonder.

Little did you know, the sound of his name coming from you melted his heart, further deepening the growing affection he had for you. Though it had only been a day or two since he met you, and despite his initial misguided disdain, once he learned the truth about you, an irrational desire to protect you took root within him. For the first time in forever, he found someone worth caring for.

As much as the head maid enjoyed watching the two of you exchange deep gazes all night, the rest of the servants in charge of the dining hall were waiting to clear up and get some rest.

With a loud clearing of her throat, she finally broke you both out of your little staring contest, "Master, mistress, are you finished with dinner? It's getting rather late now, we should probably make haste and clean up the hall before we attract all sorts of insects."

Suddenly remembering that you weren't alone in the hall, the general swiftly collected himself from his slightly flustered state, "Of course, send the maids in. Is the mistress' new quarters prepared?" He checked with Eunsook, moving to help you out of your seat with your hand still in his.

The elderly woman, with a concealed smile, nodded and bowed, "It is, master. I'll leave it to you to show mistress to her room then."

You waved to her as you followed your husband out of the hall, "Thank you for the food, Eunsook. Please tell the kitchen staff they did a wonderful job; every dish was incredibly tasty!"

She nodded with a beam, bowing again, "Yes, mistress. They'll be happy to hear that."

Leading you along, Seonghwa made an effort to appear composed, attempting to hide the joy he felt from walking with your hands intertwined. The passing servants were surprised at the rare sight of their master and mistress walking hand in hand. As they bowed, their smiles widened when you waved at them, and the general's soft chuckle didn't escape their notice.

It amused them how resolute he had initially been about getting rid of you, and now he seemed to have a hard time tearing his eyes away from you for even a moment.

"Come on, you'll love the new quarters," He said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You raised your eyebrows, "But what about my previous room? That was fine too."

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at the sudden reminder of The Cold Palace, "Well, I may have broken the door, but that's not the point. The point is that you are now officially my wife, and Lady Park deserves nothing but the best, understood?" You nodded, simply feeling grateful for everything.

"We're here. Welcome to the House of Lotus."

Your jaw dropped at the sight of the beautiful private garden surrounding what was to be your new quarters. A pavilion on the right of the main chamber faced a small pond filled with lotus flowers, "You can relax over there, have some tea and read when the weather is good. This is all yours. If you ever need me for anything, I'm just down the path; we're practically neighbours."

The general panicked when he saw your eyes welling up with tears, releasing your hand to grasp your shoulders, "D-do you not like it? We can arrange a different one for you if you want—"

Shaking your head, you sniffled, "N-no, it's not that. I j-just can't believe this is really all mine. Th-thank you so much, Seonghwa..."

He breathed out in relief, pulling you into his arms as you cried into his neck, "What did I say, you silly girl? Only the best for you." He gazed around in satisfaction; he had intentionally requested his maids to arrange the room closest to his private quarters, wanting to be near you.

Aside from that, the abundance of lotus flowers in this specific area earned it the nickname House of Lotus. Known for its connection with purity, rebirth, and divinity, the lotus flower symbolises rising from a dark place into beauty and rebirth, mirroring its growth process. This was precisely what the general had envisioned for you—a metaphorical representation of new beginnings and a fresh start.

"Master, we have come to prepare mistress for bed. Do we have permission to proceed?"

"Of course, I'll leave you to it then." Your husband had no choice but to leave you as the group of servants assigned to you for the night arrived, hands carrying bath supplies, Yunho's prepared ointment for your wounds, and a fresh piece of nightgown.

"Have a good rest tonight, my dear. We're paying the dressmaker a visit tomorrow; we're getting you new clothes." He pressed a firm kiss onto your head and did not leave until he was sure you had entered the room, reluctantly heading towards his study to wait for updates from Jongho.

Reaching for the Jang family records he had hidden from you earlier, he got back to work. With the week off granted by the King for him to celebrate his wedding, Seonghwa was determined to gather as much intel as he could before setting his plans into motion, "Just you wait, minister. Savour the peace while you still can."

Just when the general believed he had prepared himself to learn the extent of the abuse you had endured throughout your life, he managed to keep his rage in check as he listened to the harrowing details. However, nothing could have prepared him for the new revelation that his aide brought to him.

His disgust for the Minister of Military Affairs, already intense, reached new heights with the secret he had just uncovered. The assistant bowed his head as his master broke into a grin of disbelief, "And here, I thought I was labelled the heartless monster. Clearly, the minister is the rightful owner of the title."

Pointing towards the copy of your family records on his desk, Seonghwa inquired, "What about this? Have you been able to confirm the suspicions I have about those three she-devils?"

Jongho shook his head, "Not yet, sir. We'll need evidence to prove your theory; we might have to dig deeper. Just getting someone to talk about it might not be sufficient for your plan to succeed."

The general nodded, "It's alright, Jongho. We still have some time. So long as we have that piece of evidence before I return to work next week, is that doable?"

After a brief moment of contemplation, his aide replied, "Yes, I think that should be enough time. If that is all for now, I'll be taking my leave, sir."

"Thank you, Jongho. You may go."

Left alone with his thoughts, your husband resisted the urge to run to you immediately. He felt so angry for you that he could almost cry. The depth of your suffering was unimaginable to him, and all he wanted was to embrace you, shield you from the harsh and cruel world, and erase the pain and traumatic memories.

Clutching the book with your family crest, he glared at your father's name, imagining all the ways he could take the old man out.

I promise you, my dear. I'll make them pay.

At the same time, he couldn't stop beating himself up for the way he had treated you on your first day here. His heart ached as he recalled you travelling this far all on your own, only to face continuous mistreatment from him. Even if you had already forgiven him—you weren't even angry at him in the first place, you had to be crazy for that—Seonghwa would never forgive himself for his actions. He would be spending the rest of his days trying to make up for it.

That night, he experienced another restless bout of sleep, tossing and turning as the endless imagined scenes of you being tortured, starved, and treated like cattle haunted his mind. At some point during the night, he couldn't resist the impulse and walked over to your quarters, standing by the entrance like a fool, contemplating whether he should knock.

But he quickly realised that you must not have had any decent rest for who knows how long, and here he was, on the verge of disturbing you just because he couldn't sleep. Gosh, how selfish could he be?

He trudged back to his own room, trying to focus on the thought of you being soundly asleep in your new and comfy bed. Thankfully, this image managed to bring a smile to his face, and just like that, he gradually joined you in dreamland.

"Good morning, mistress! We're here to help you get ready. May we please enter?" Your eyes fluttered open as Eunsook's voice reached you, and a yawn escaped your mouth after having what felt like the most amazing sleep for the first time in years.

You were tempted to hop off your bed and rush to open the door for them, but then you remembered you weren't supposed to do so. Clearing your throat, you answered politely, "Yes, you may enter."

The servants bowed, unable to hide their smiles upon seeing you sitting up on your bed, still marvelling at the grand interior of your new room despite having already spent one night there.

Unbeknownst to you, the maids had been competing to be chosen to serve you. In just your third day here, you had become the most precious figure in the entire estate, and everyone wished to work under you. This particular group of maids had been selected, and their excitement was palpable as they enthusiastically bathed, dressed, and fixed your hair and makeup for the day.

On the other hand, the less fortunate few found themselves assigned to prepare the general for the day. Especially now, with Jongho, the only one capable of handling Seonghwa, engaged in special duties elsewhere, they had no choice but to put up with their master, even as their hearts yearned to be in the House of Lotus.

The morning unfolded with remarkable ease, thanks to your presence. Your husband proved more manageable than usual, his typical grogginess dissipating as he witnessed your excitement over breakfast. It made him both happy and sad—happy to see you so easily satisfied but sad at the realisation of the deprivation you had endured. Your genuine appreciation for even the most basic necessities was a testament to your difficult past.

Repeatedly, he had to remind himself that your history was just that—history. There was nothing he could do to alter it. But he was your present and future, and he would do everything to ensure you had nothing but the best moving forward.

Having already provided you with the best quarters on his estate, the next step was to adorn you in the finest clothes in all of Joseon. Whether or not you arrived with clothing from your old home was irrelevant to him; he would have burned every piece of it to the ground regardless. His goal now was to ensure that, at first sight, everyone would recognise you as the esteemed and beloved wife of the terrifying General Park.

Waiting for you by his carriage, he was not disappointed by your reaction to the vehicle as he assisted you inside. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you took in the spacious interior. Usually, he kept the carriage's small windows closed, but anticipating your excitement, he left them open. A subtle smile played on his lips as you gazed in awe at the passing scenery.

Cute.

The dressmaker's shop was situated in the middle of a lively street in town, requiring the two of you to cover the remaining distance on foot while the carriage and its coachmen awaited your return. Accompanied by two servants trailing closely behind, the four of you began making your way through the bustling crowd.

While Seonghwa found himself irritated by the unending stares drawn by both of your extraordinary visuals, your attention was captivated by the surroundings.

This marked your first visit to the town, evident from your childlike fascination, a source of amusement for the observing servants who shared delighted giggles. Throughout the journey, your husband ensured a tight grip on your hand, apprehensive about the possibility of losing you in the busy crowd.

The commoners, oblivious to your identities, continued their activities nonchalantly. Little did they know they were looking at the famous General Park and his new wife. If your true status were known, the street might have cleared within seconds.

Growing weary of the continuous gazes, the general promptly guided you towards the shop he intended to visit.

Upon entering, you were captivated by the array of colourful and elegant hanbok on display. The servants remained close by, engaging in lively discussions about their preferred designs. Typically, Seonghwa would disapprove of his employees being so casual around him, but witnessing the joy on your face as you excitedly joined in on their conversation, he couldn't bring himself to reprimand the two maids. Sighing, he moved further into the establishment, searching for the owner.

Spotting the familiar back hunched over work at the rear of the salon, he couldn't help but roll his eyes before saying, "I still don't understand why you won't hire a helper. You could be robbed in broad daylight, for all we know. You weren't even aware you have a customer, being busy back here."

Turning around with a raised brow, the dressmaker countered, "You're wrong, Park Seonghwa. I didn't bother heading out because I knew it was you. That's how good I am, and that's why I don't need to spend unnecessarily on a helper."

Before the general stood an old friend from his early military days, one who had decided the life of a soldier was not his path and had pursued his passion in fashion, "Yes, yes. It's nice to see you too, Kim Hongjoong. Good to know you haven't changed much."

The shorter man grinned deviously at his friend's sarcastic response, glancing at you, "Aye, I haven't. Unlike you, General Park."

Hongjoong set his tools down and continued, "Heard you finally got married, and I didn't believe it, not until today. That lovely woman over there, that's her, isn't it? She must be quite the special one for you to accompany her all this way. This isn't like you at all. The Seonghwa I know would never waste his time coming here."

If there was one thing your husband did not miss about his friend, it was his relentless teasing. He rolled his eyes again when it went on, "You know, I really thought I'd never get to see you again, but here you are, all because of her."

Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "One more word from you, Hongjoong, and you can kiss this business deal goodbye. Don't come crying to me when I end up employing another dressmaker for all of my wife's clothing."

Jaws falling slack, Hongjoong exclaimed, "Hold on, did I hear that right? All of your wife's clothing?"

The general smirked, "Yes, you heard correctly. I'm hiring you for the long term, enough for you to shut down your shop and work exclusively for my estate."

Hongjoong chuckled, "Closing my shop might be a stretch, but a steady income is tempting. I'm on board. You have good taste, Seonghwa. I assure you won't regret hiring me. I'll make Lady Park the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, mark my words."

"Excellent. I'm counting on it, Hongjoong."

As pleased as your husband was to have secured a reliable dressmaker for you, there are moments when he regrets such decisions. He experiences a sense of déjà vu as he observes you interacting with his friend, recalling the uneasy feeling he had witnessing your reaction to Yunho.

"My lady, it seems my task is already defined. Your beauty is already exceptional, and I'm afraid I won't have to work too hard to enhance it at all." Hongjoong has always been quite the charmer, and Seonghwa disliked that he was using it on you, his wife, of all people.

The blush on your face, as adorable as it was, irked the general at the moment, as he wasn't the reason for it. He watched, unamused, as the dressmaker smugly took your measurements.

Contrary to your calm and oblivious demeanour, the two maids were keenly aware of their master's internal fury, manifested in the glares he shot at his friend. They trembled at the thought of his wrath, unaware that Hongjoong was the only one audacious enough to tease the general without fearing severe consequences. The two had always shared what people termed a love-hate relationship.

Other than you, your husband and the servants felt a sense of relief once the dressmaker completed noting your measurements, checking your design preferences, and determining which colours suited your skin tone best.

"Alright, it looks like we're done for now. I'll do my best to deliver the first batch of dresses to your estate by next week. Is that okay?" Seonghwa softened as soon as he recognised his friend's serious and professional side, nodding quickly, "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Hongjoong."

The shorter man gave him a sincere smile, "No, thank you, Seonghwa. I mean it in a good way when I say you've changed. Your wife is lovely, by the way. I'll be seeing you soon, my friend."

As the four of you made your way out of the shop, the general's irritation resurfaced as quickly as it had dissipated just moments ago when Hongjoong sent you a flirty wink, "Have a safe journey back. I can't wait to see you again, Lady Park."

Cutting short your innocent wave, Seonghwa swiftly wrapped a strong arm around your back and guided you away, not missing his friend's annoying laughter, "Let's go; the carriage is waiting." He grumbled, jealousy and petty anger flooding his veins.

But those emotions vanished as soon as you both got into the vehicle, the rhythmic rocking motion lulling you into drowsiness. In your sleepy state, your head landed on his shoulder, and you whispered, "Thank you, Seonghwa. I had fun today."

He pulled you closer, ensuring your comfort, and pressed his lips against your hair.

"Anything for you, my wife."

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"Can you all believe this? Just a few days into marriage, and the general has already sent word to His Majesty that he has an important agenda to discuss in our next assembly?" The minister guffawed, downing a glass of rice wine in amusement.

His wife grinned slyly, "Do you reckon it has anything to do with her?"

"Oh, I bet it has everything to do with her!" Jinah chortled.

"He must have been so disgusted by the sight of her bare from all that makeup," Jinhee shook her head before panicking, "Wait a damn minute, what if he asks to swap her for one of us?"

Jinjoo whined, "Father, you better not agree to that if it happens!"

"You silly girls, your father would never let any of that happen. Right, honey?" Their mother drawled, curling up to her husband seductively. The mere thought of your potential misery brought them satisfaction.

Minister Jang nodded, "Don't worry, girls. Knowing Park Seonghwa, he most likely would not entertain the idea or ask for anything like that. We'll just have to wait and see what he wishes to talk about. This should be interesting."

"That better be the case." Jinhee muttered, arms crossed.

Jinah smirked, "Or who knows, he's already disposed of her and decided the only right thing to do is to report it."

Cruel laughter echoed through the dining hall of the Jang estate as your family speculated on the possible whereabouts of your remains. None of them noticed the mole within their staff, attentively listening to every word.

I know you're all probably dying to know Minister Jang's secret but what fun will it be for y'all to find out so soon, am I right?😝 Not to worry though, I promise it'll all be revealed in due time.

Thank you so much for 900+ followers! As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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lovingmattysposts · 5 months

Text

You don't know me

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: drinking, partying, smoking, mentions of a toxic relationship. mentions of drunk driving, mentions of alcohol poisoning, smoking

hello!!! and welcome to the first part of my new chris series. I think you guys are going to LOVE this one. I cannot wait to hear your guys thoughts on this, love you as always. also CHRIS HAS A LIP RING IN THE SERIES. you're welcome.

xoxo, autumn

This party sucked. Everyone smelled like beer. It was too loud. Everyone around me was wasted and I just wanted to go home. Every single person I've come in contact with tonight has managed to piss me off in one way or another. Including my boyfriend, Max. Every time he drinks it's like he thinks he can finally say or do anything he wanted to and it did nothing but anger me, but I never said anything. He drinks, that's okay. I guess. I don't. That's okay too, I think.

So mostly being the only sober one at every party he drags me too, isn't necessarily my idea of a good time. Yet I suck it up almost every weekend because I didn't want to upset Max. He does a lot for me I can do things for him. Even if it means that I have to sit in the corner of the room watching my friends get wasted. I mostly find myself watching the clock, hoping one of them decides to call it a night early, or at least get sick so we have an excuse to leave.

This particular night Max was really, really pushing my buttons. First it was about my outfit. He hated it, basically forced me to change. He told me, 'You're an Labraut, you're suppose to look classy Y/n', I remember him glaring at me in my room. Next it was about who was driving. He always insisted to drive every time we went out, promising me that he would let me drive his car home, spoiler alert, he never did. He always wanted to drive home. Insisting that he was fine to drive. Clutching the seatbelt and the door handle as he whipped his brand new BMW across the neighborhoods, begging, praying we got home safe.

We fought in my driveway, over which who was going to drive. Him or me. I told him he could even drive there, just please let me drive home. Somehow within the argument I gave in, letting him drive. He kissed my head and told me not to worry that he would let me drive home this time. I reluctantly smiled as we picked up each of our friends and drove them to the party.

Max used to push me on drinking, not anymore. He gave up early in our relationship. Along with most of the affection, unless he was drunk, then he was all over me. Especially when we went back to my house because my parents would let him stay the night. My parents loved Max. Sometimes I even questioned if they loved him more than they loved me. They told me all the time as I was growing up that they wished I was a boy. That I was suppose to be a boy. They stopped saying that when I turned 14 though. I guess they realized wishing that I was a boy everyday wouldn't magically make me wake up with a dick.

God they were assholes sometimes. They let me basically do anything I wanted, which I gets lonely after a while but you get used to it. I definitely was. Like I said, they were assholes. I think they started to semi-like me when I started dating Max. Which Max ate up. I was getting kind of tired of the way he was treating me. We fought almost the entire way to the party before I agreed to go to his hockey game next weekend that was three hours away, might I add. He couldn't understand why I wouldn't want to drive that far on a Saturday. He didn't understand that sitting home and reading sounded like a better plan to me.

The longer we argued, the more I wanted it to end. So I would ultimately give in after a while. I think Max started to catch on too, because he would never give in until I did. I've learned throughout my life that speaking up for yourself does nothing but cause trouble for yourself. Or at least that's what my mom always taught me. I'm starting to think that's true since I spent the entire rest of the car ride starting out the window, fighting tears.

Max kissed me before we walked into the party. Just a peck, as If to say, "I'm sorry for being such a dick". I smiled at him and we continued into the party.

That brings me here, absolutely annoyed and tired. Sydney walked over in my direction with her usual soft-pitying smile. She was my best friend, really sometimes the only person I could stand in my life. I smiled softly towards her direction.

"Hey babe" She said looking at me. I nodded at her. She sighed.

"If you want to go, I'm sure I could convince ash to let me take him home" She said looking down at me. I shook my head. I didn't want anyone else dealing with drunk Max. That wasn't a task I would put on my worst enemy really.

"It's okay I don't mind. I'm sure he'll want to leave soon" I said softly. She sighed and looked down at her drink.

"Let's try and find him, I'll ask" She said motioning me over to the main living room. I followed her through the crowd.

"It's really fine Sydney, It will just make Max mad if he knows I want to leave" I whispered to her as we approached Max and Cayden, Sydney's boyfriend. Max smiled down at me. His eyes lit up.

"Look! My beautiful girlfriend!" Max said wrapping his arms around the side of my waist and kissing my cheek. "You're so beautiful. Isn't she so beautiful?" Max asked looking over at Cayden who was talking to Sydney. I cringed as he squeezed me tightly against him. Yep, five minutes in and he's wasted. He looked over at Max and raised his eyebrows. His eyes trailed to me. He smiled at Max and shook him off before directing his attention back to his girlfriend.

I attempted to wiggle out of his grip but he squeezed me tighter against him. His lips found the side of my face as he kissed me. He started to nibble on my ear when I pushed his face away. We were in a room full of people. "Max come on" I groaned cringing away from him. "But you look so pretty, in that dress" He whispered. My face was turned away from him.

I was still pissed about our argument in the car. He was being a dick and I wasn't about to forget about that because he decided he's over it. Max kept his hands placed around my waist as he turned me to face him and pulled me against him. He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I hate when we fight" He pouted. I sighed and resisted myself from rolling my eyes. "Then don't cause fights" I said looking at him. His face fell flat. I could tell he wanted to push the subject, attempting to tell me that the fight was in fact not his fault, but mine, but I knew he wouldn't because I knew where this PDA was about to lead too. I looked up at him, smiling slightly. He just looked down at me, before lifting his hand off my waist and to my jaw propping it up before connecting his lips to mine.

I kissed him back briefly before parting as he attempted to push his tongue into my mouth. His eyebrows furrowed as I parted. I looked around. "We're in a room full of people" I mumbled looking around us. No one was really watching us but I still didn't like the idea. "Babe, no one is watching" He said moving his thumb across my jaw. I turned my head before locking eyes with someone across the room.

His hair was brown. His eyes were blue. He was wearing a t-shirt and somewhat bagging cargo pants. Completely and utter underdressed compared to everyone else in the party. I squinted my eyes at him. I recognized him. His name was Chris. He was standing next to a kid on Max's hockey team that I knew to be Nate. Neither ran with our crowd. I don't really know what they were doing here. He took the drink in his hand before taking a sip. What was he doing? Just standing there watching me, and he wasn't breaking the eye contact. I suddenly felt Max's hands that we on me a lot more than before and I felt my face go red.

Max grabbed my face and positioned it back to him. He bent down and kissed below my ear before whispering something to me. "Can we go somewhere more private?" He said into my ear. There it is. I sighed before grabbing his arms and pushing them off me and stepping back from him. "Max, you're drunk. You know I'm not doing anything when you're drunk" I said crossing my arms over my chest. Max groaned and looked up.

"Babe, I've had two drinks. Two! Cayden-Tell her how many have I had?" Max said holding his hand out to Cayden, who looked pretty invested in whatever Sydney was whispering into his ear right now. Cayden looked up to Max and leaned up wiping the smile off his face. "Huh what? Oh! Right, no it's it's third at most" Cayden shook him off. Max's faced turned angry. "Second" He mumbled through gritted teeth. "Yeah, Whatever man" Cayden waved him off before grabbing Sydney's arm and walking towards the stairs. I watched them as they walked off.

Max turned towards me. "Second, third, forth, I don't care. Not while you're drinking" I said looking at him. He groaned and shook his head. "Oh my God, y/n-" He said shaking his head.

"Max!" Someone yelled from the kitchen. He sighed and then looked over in the direction of the the noise. He looked back down at me. "Don't move okay? I'll be back and you better still be here" He said pointing his finger at me as if I were a child. I huffed before he walked off towards the kitchen. I watched as he greeted other people that had just got there.

I looked up towards the ceiling, trying to calm my anger towards him down. I looked over to the same spot that the boy was staring at me from, but he was gone. I glanced around the room. I didn't see him anywhere. I pursed my lips as I stood in the room alone. I suddenly wondered why I was doing what I was told. Staying put. Fuck that. I walked across the room searching for anyone I knew. I found no one. I looked up at the ceiling.

Why did I do this to myself? I was miserable every time I came. Yet I always allowed Max to guilt trip me into going. I looked toward the back door that led to the backyard. I sighed and walked outside. Maybe some fresh air would do me some good. I stepped out of the door before closing it shut. I sighed breathing in the fresh air. It felt good. Not stuffy like inside. The noise of the party was now muffled.

I crossed my arms over my chest feeling the cold air come over me. It felt nice. I needed some space from Max before I absolutely blew up on him. Today was not the day to push my buttons, I wish the could just take the hint sometimes.

I walked over to the edge of the porch that was attached to the nice house. It was a pretty night. It wasn't cloudy so you could see all of the stars in the night. It was my favorite kind of night. Looking up at the stars made my problems feel so minuscule, and I loved it. Taking the attention off my own life for a second and looking at something bigger than myself. I let out a shaky breath as I looked up.

"Hey"

I jumped turning around, meeting the same blue eyes from earlier. I let out a breath clutching my chest. He scared the shit out of me. He smiled down at me. I noticed a lip ring that hung on the side of his mouth. I wondered if that hurt. Why would you pierce your mouth?

"What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people like that?" I breathed looking up at him, my hand still on my chest. He just looked down at me before bringing the cigarette that was in his hands up to his mouth. I waved the smoke out of my face as he blew it out. He just looked down at me.

"Those's kill you. You know?" I said motioning to the cigarette. He looked down at the cigarette and then at me, before turning and putting it up to his mouth again. I watched him as his lips wrapped around it and when he inhaled the end of it lit up and the the smoke he exhaled through his lips. I swallowed. He blew out the rest of the smoke before responding. His eyes glanced down to meet mine.

"A lot of things kill you. Might as well choose the one's that feel good" He said glancing down at me. I wanted to laugh at his statement. "That's stupid" I said shaking my head and looking down. He raised his eyebrows before throwing the cigarette down at our feet. I moved over away from it. He chuckled. I looked up at him.

"Don't worry princess, it's won't get on your designer shoes" He said shaking his head. My eyebrows furrowed. My shoes were expensive, but I didn't overly care about them. It was the way I was brought up. I was taught to care. So I do. What's wrong with that? I swallowed and looked forward not likely the energy between us.

"So where's your boyfriend?" He asked after a few seconds of silence between us. I felt a blush creep up my neck remembering that he witnessed that. I didn't want to be that girl who hooks up with her boyfriend in front of a bunch of people. I licked my lips and looked at my hands.

"I don't know. Inside?" I guessed. I didn't want to talk to him about Max. I didn't really want to talk to him at all period. I just wanted some fresh air. Some peace and quiet. I looked up at him, he was staring forward. Didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He lifted his eyebrows and put his hands in his pockets. I crossed my hands over my chest.

"Why were you watching me in there?" I suddenly asked. He chuckled. I hate when people did that. Laughed at things I said that weren't meant to be funny. It made me feel little. Max did it constantly. He sighed and looked down at me. "I just thought it was interesting" He mumbled. I scoffed. What was so interesting about me and Max?

"You thought what was interesting?" I asked meeting his gaze. He looked down at me, with a small smile on his lips. He shrugged. "That you weren't giving him what he wanted" He said looking back forwards. My eyebrows furrowed. How did he pick that up from the few seconds he looked at me? I suddenly felt very vulnerable in front of a boy I'd never talked to before. I felt like he knew me. Like he could read me.

"Feel like that doesn't happen a lot with your kind" He said. I turned towards him, starting to get angry of his demeanor. "My kind?" I asked. His face turned towards me and smiled as he realized that I didn't like that. It was like this was entertaining for him. To see me squirm.

"I'll have you know that Max and I's business is none of yours. And for you to sit here and attempt to belittle me, for what? Because you know I have money? I was just coming out for some air and some peace and quiet and you approached me. You didn't understand anything that you think you saw okay? Stop attempting to figure it out" I spat at him.

His face didn't change as I yelled. He just licked his lips and looked at me. His gaze held power. I felt it in my body the way he looked at me. So calm, yet overpowering. I just yelled at him and a smile still was on his face, vaguely.

"You done?" He asked raising his eyebrows. My eyebrows furrowed. I took a deep breath unfolding my arms. "Yeah" I breathed. I give in easily. I don't know why. It's just the way I'm wired. I think it comes from my parents. Or maybe from Max. I don't know. I just don't like fighting.

He nodded before reaching in his pocket and pulling out another cigarette and then grabbing a lighter and lighting the end. I just watched him as he did this as if we weren't in the middle of an argument. He breathed It in and blew out more smoke.

"How many of those do you smoke a day?" I asked furrowing my eyebrows at him. He finished his other one nearly 3 minutes ago. How could he already want another one? He dropped the hand the held his cigarette and he looked down at me. I swallowed.

"Why? Are you worried about my heath?" He smiled. I bit back a smile and looked down. I shrugged. "Maybe" I breathed. We both laughed and looked away. Silence fell between us.

"It was just nice seeing him not get what he wanted. Your boyfriend's kind of a dick" He said after a few seconds. I rolled my eyes. "So you are" I said back. He shrugged blowing out smoke. "True" He smiled. I smiled and shook my head. I should definitely not be smiling this much with another guy. I suddenly felt like I was doing something wrong. I felt like I should walk away, go back and find Max, but my feet weren't moving and my mouth wouldn't stop talking.

"Where's your friend?" I asked looking up at him. His eyebrows furrowed and then clarity hit his face. "You mean Nate?" He asked looking around. I nodded. He shrugged. "Lost him a few minutes ago when I went to smoke. He doesn't smoke" He said looking down at me. I smiled and nodded.

"Ah, sounds like Nate is the smarter one of you two" I said looking up at him. He raising one of his eyebrows and looked at me as he inhaled another round of smoke. "Is that what you think princess?" He asked quietly. Jesus Christ. I swallowed and looked away from him. Why can I hear his voice throughout my entire body? I hated it.

"Stop calling me that" I quickly said looking away from him. He didn't stop looking at me and I felt his gaze burn into the side of my head. I let out a shaky breath. He finally looked away humming. I suddenly hear the back door open.

"There you are! Geez, stop running away!"

We both turned around at the noise. I saw Sydney walking towards us and she grabbed my arm starting to pull me away from Chris. Her eyes shifted to Chris and looked him up and down before looking at me and giving me a confused look. I just stared at her with a blank expression feeling in my soul as if I had been caught doing something bad.

She didn't say anything as she continued to drag me away back towards the party. I turned and looked at Chris, who had an unreadable expression on his face as he watched me be physically dragged away. She pulled up back into the house and closed the door. She turned and faced me withe a furrowed expression.

"What were you doing?" She asked looking at me. My face turned red. "I just wanted some air" I said looking at her. She just looked at me for a second as if investigating my expression. She shrugged and then walked towards the steps. I quickly followed behind her. She started to walk up the steps and turned to face me.

"The boys are upstairs, I think they might want to leave soon" She said as we walked. I sighed of relief. Thank God. I felt like I've been here for ages. I nodded as we walked and finally made it up the steps. The room was very crowded, almost more crowded that downstairs. This house was absolutely huge, so there had be like 200 people here to make it feel this small.

I hated crowded places, even though I'm forced to go to huge events like this more often that the average person. I hated it, but it's what I had to do. With a last name like mine, you don't get by with skipping an event here or there. You have to attend every. single. one.

Sydney started to look around people looking for our boyfriends when I glanced around the room seeing two people getting to it on the other side of the room. I made a disgusted face and was going to by pass them when something caught my eye. I looked back at the two people.

Max was wearing that shirt.

I narrowed my eyes. The guy's back was to me but he had a girl pinned up against the wall, sucking on her face. Curly brown hair. The blue shirt. My fucking boyfriend. I gasped catching Sydney's attention. She turned towards me and looked where I was looking.

"Did you find them?" She asked scanning where I was looking when she suddenly made the same gasp as me. Anger rose in my system. Are you kidding me? I clenched the fists that were at my side and I felt anger rise up my neck. "Is that-" Sydney started to asked. She turned to look at me but my face was glued on the people. "Y/n-" She started to say but I turned and immediately bolted down the steps.

I don't think I've ever been so angry in my entire life. My face was pounding. I could hear it in my ears. I couldn't think. No thoughts were going through my head, but anger. The room got louder. It got blurrier. My fists were still clenched as I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill him. I made it down the steps. Sydney was quick to follow me.

"Y/n! Stop! Wait a second!" She yelled trying to follow me. How could he? I couldn't even think to be sad because of the amount of anger that was fogging my vision and my decision making. I didn't wait for her as I moved through the crowd of people. Did it suddenly get hot in here? I'm burning up. My jaw was clenched. I needed revenge. That was the only thing that my mind could think of. I didn't need planned revenge. I needed immediate fucking revenge.

I made it to the kitchen and placed my hands on the counter. Sydney followed me in. "Are you okay? What are you thinking? What do we do?" She asked a million questions at me. She was panicked I could tell. I just breathed heavily as I looked down at my feet. I looked back up and scanned the room, meeting the faces of others. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.

"Y/n talk to me. What are you thinking?" She asked looking down at me. I turned to scan the room. My eyes met that backdoor. That boy. I picked my hands up off the counter, pushing myself up off of it. I hate him. I hate him. I could kill him. I set off towards the backdoor. Sydney quickly followed me. I opened the door violently and walked out.

Nate was now outside with Chris. Both of their eyes shot towards me as I walked outside. Chris raised his eyes at me. His gaze overtook me again as I walked towards him. "Party is inside Princess" He said looking at me, brushing me off. That comment would piss me off if I wasn't already clouded with anger towards someone else. Nate didn't say anything he just watched me as I walked up to Chris.

Chris looked down at me. Sydney stopped from a distance. I looked at his cigarette in his hand. I reached up, taking it out of his hands before bringing it up to my mouth. Chris just watched me.

Please lungs don't fail me, I swear I'll never do this again.

I inhaled slowly and softly letting the smoke run down my throat. I took the cigarette out of my mouth before blowing the smoke out of my mouth. By the grace of God, without coughing. He raised his eyebrows at me. I threw the cigarette down at my feet before stepping on it with my shoes. Not thinking in the moment of the repercussions of my $600 shoes.

I looked back up at him. He opened his mouth to say something but I reached up grabbing his front of his shirt with my hand and pulling him down to me. I connected our lips. I heard Sydney gasp. It took him a second to figure out what the hell was going on, as well as me. My lips froze for a second as well as his, but after half a second his lips overtook mine, kissing me back. My lips started moving again once they felt how good his lips felt.

I dropped my hand from his shirt and placed my hands on his face as we kissed. This was weird kissing someone other than Max. It felt different, it felt good. I felt his lip ring against my lips. The cold dark metal. It felt so good. That's why he has a lip ring.

I tugged on it softly with my teeth, making him breathe in slightly. I felt him swipe his tongue on my bottom lip and then into my mouth. I let him in as we kissed deeper. He tasted like cigarettes, alcohol, and bad decisions. It was an amazing combination. If two people weren't watching us make out right now, I would have allowed myself to moan, but I had already been publicly embarrassed enough for one night.

I felt his arm snake around my back pulling me against him. God this was good. This was so good. I smiled against him as we kissed. One of my hands went up into his hair.

"Y/n!" Kylie whispered sternly. I disconnected our lips, but we didn't move apart from each other. We both just stayed breathing heavily. Staring at each other, connected. He removed his arm from my back and I moved my hands from his hair, separating us. I looked over at Sydney who looked horrified at me.

"Alright then" Nate said looking at me.

I looked back, feeling myself start to turn red. "What was your name again?" I asked feeling myself go blank. My head was still spinning. He chuckled and looked at me smiling. "Chris" He breathed. I nodded before turning around and walking up Sydney. She stood frozen looking at me. I walked past her, grabbing her arm on my way, dragging her back inside. She stumbled behind me as we went inside.

"What-What was that?" She laughed looking at me. I let out a deep breath. I was no longer angry. Every angry though and emotion that was running through my veins left when my lips touched him. Like a breath of fresh air. I smiled at her. "Revenge" I smiled. She shook her head laughing.

My moment of clarity of happiness and calmness was shaken when I saw Max making his way over to me from across the room. Anger started to rise inside of my stomach again. I should just punch him. Not give him an excuse to explain himself. I felt myself get angrier the closer he got to me. His eyes met mine and he smiled. Smiled. How could he stand there and smile knowing what he just did? I'm going to kill him.

He finally made his way in front of me. "Hey, babe I was looking for you" He breathed, his dimples showing promptly through his smile. I clenched my fists and opened my mouth to scream at him. To humiliate him. To destroy him right here in front of everyone for what he just did to me, but I stopped. My eyes glanced down to his shirt.

A white shirt.

My face went pale. I looked up at him, unclenching my fist and guilt washing over my whole body my legs almost went numb. "Your-your shirt" I pointed at his shirt. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his shirt. "What about it?" He laughed lightly at me. I looked over at Sydney who's expression was the same as mine. Horrified. I swallowed looking up at him.

"Wasn't it b-blue? You were w-wearing a blue shirt." I said looking at the shirt again, panicking. He looked down at his shirt and then back up at me. "Babe are you okay? Did you drink anything?" He chuckled placing his hand on my shoulder. Oh my God. Oh my God. I looked down and felt my heart beating out of my chest.

I just cheated on him.

I shook my head quickly and didn't look at him.

Suddenly one of Max's friends came stumbling up to us. His name was Mitch. He grabbed Max's shoulders attempting to stabilize himself. Max looked over at him laughing. "Dude where'd you put the other beers?" He slurred at him. I looked at him. Blue shirt. Curly brown hair. Fuck. I felt my heart drop. It was Mitch kissing that girl, not Max.

"The fridge dumbass" He laughed pushing him off towards the kitchen. Mitch smiled at him before looking over to me, waving. "Ms. Y/n" He nodded at me. Max pushed his chest. "Go. Stop gawking at my girlfriend" He said smiling shaking his head. Mitch laughed before turning and stumbling into the kitchen. I ran my hand through my hair, attempting to calm my heart rate that was quickening, fast.

"I'm ready to go if you are, I'll go grab your purse" He said bending down and kissing the top of my head. I didn't say anything as he moved past me and out of our view. I snapped my head towards Sydney. She walked forwards grabbing my arms and with wide eyes.

"S-Sydney I could have sworn-" I started shaking my head. She cut me off. "Shh. Shut up. Don't say anything. It didn't happen. Nothing happened, okay y/n? We went outside for air. That's it. It will be okay. You can't act like anything is wrong." She said shaking her head. I swallowed. My heart was pounding in my ears, I could barely even hear her. I felt tears brim to my eyes.

"Sydney, I just ch-" I started but she covered my mouth with her hand. She shook her head. "We will both forget this ever happened okay? Listen to me. Act like nothing is wrong. Like nothing is different" She said looking at me. I nodded as she removed her hand from my mouth. Max walked back over to us. I tried to compose myself. Push down my emotions to my stomach as he handed me my purse.

"Thank you" I smiled at him. He nodded and pulled me to him wrapping his arms around me. "Syd, Where's Cayden? Tell him were leaving" Max said motioning her towards the main room. She nodded and quickly walked away.

Max looked down at me. I smiled at him. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is eating me alive. I love you. We're dating. No one cheated. Everything is fine.

"I'm really drunk" He chuckled pressing his forehead against mine. I smiled at him, leaning up and connecting our lips. The lips that were just on another person's mouth. He pulled back and furrowed his eyebrows, moving his lips around. My face fell, my heart was beating out of my chest.

"Were you smoking?" He asked looking down at me. I swallowed and shook my head. "You taste like smoke" He said looking down at me, but not letting go of me. I shook my head. "You're just drunk Max" I said smiling through my pain. He shrugged before leaning down and connecting our lips again. I pulled away this time.

"You know that I love you right?" I whispered looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed and he nodded. I hope he doesn't think it's weird that I'm randomly telling him this. He sighed and pulled away. "You know just because we fight, it doesn't make me think that you don't love me" he said pulling me into him and wrapping me in a hug. The fight. Yes the fight. I'm saying this because of the fight.

"I love you too" He breathed. I sighed of relief. "I'm here!" Cayden announced himself as Sydney dragged him into the room. Max and I both laughed. Sydney looked more than annoyed. "I leave him alone for 5 minutes. How many shots does he take? Eight" She said shaking her head. I smiled and shook my head at the couple in front of us. Cayden leaned his head on Sydney's shoulder.

"I don't feel so good" Cayden said squeezing his eyes shut. Sydney's eyes snapped towards him and pushed him away slightly. "Do not puke on me I will literally break up with you" She said glaring at him, and we all knew she was serious. Cayden lunged forward, holding his stomach. Max and I stepped back. Sydney gasped and pushed him towards the backdoor. He tumbled over towards the door.

"Out! Out!" She yelled pushing him out of the door. Max followed quickly behind them and I was behind Max as we followed them out. I immediately regretted walking outside, completely forgetting Chris and Nate were still out there until I saw them.

Cayden ran towards the grass before emptying him stomach on the grass near Nate and Chris. My face went red as I looked at Chris. He looked towards Max and then at me. I immediately looked down, not making anymore eye contact. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Forming in a pit in my stomach.

"What the fuck?" Nate said turning his head and backing away from Cayden. Chris didn't move. His eyes glanced from me to Max. I swallowed. Please. Please. Please. Don't say anything. I secretly wished in my mind over and over.

Sydney walked over to Cayden rubbing his back. "You know I hate when you do this shit" She groaned at him, but I wasn't focused on the fact that Cayden might have alcohol poisoning. I was focused on Chris's eyes burning into mine. I stayed behind Max, hiding like a pathetic little girl who just got in trouble. Hiding from their parents.

Max noticed Chris staring at us, because I felt his body turn towards him. Please. Please. Please.

"What are you staring at freak?" Max spat. I'd like to think that Max wouldn't have been that harsh if he wasn't under the influence, but Chris was right. He was kind of a dick. It bothered me at first, it still bothers me now, but I stopped commenting on it knowing it only made him more angry and hostile. He says that he has to separate his status from others. That he has to show them their place. He didn't say that to me until after we started dating.

After we started to be known as Max and Y/n, Hastings and Labraut. Status and Status. After my parents fell in love with him and after I'd already been on his private jet with his entire family three times. If he had said it prior I would have never gone out with him. I was already in too deep. Our parents had already started picking out wedding venues. I couldn't say anything. I always bit my tongue for the sake of what seems to be the rest of my godforsaken life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the worst outcome of this situation. I glanced up, Chris was looking at me. I didn't have the courage to shake my head, to beg him silently not to say anything, to mouth anything, to even look at him for more than three seconds. Chris looked towards Max, emotionless before turning towards Nate and motioning him towards the gate of the house.

Nate looked at me and shook his head before following Chris away. Sydney and Cayden weren't focused on the silent battle that almost ruined my relationship. Cayden was now down on his knees. "I feel like I'm dying" Cayden groaned. Sydney sat next to him. "We have to get him into the car" She said turning towards us.

I, still frozen, didn't move, didn't react. Max stepped forward and walked over to Cayden picking him up off the ground. Sydney took him from Max, wrapping Cayden's arm around her shoulders, carrying him. Max stepped back and looked at me.

He reached in his pocket before throwing me his keys. His keys. I caught them mid air and looked down at them before looking back up at him smiling. He smiled back at me. The one time he decides to be nice? Really? Tonight? Didn't even fight me on driving, and I just cheated on him. I swallowed looking down at the keys.

"You're gonna let me drive?" I mumbled looking at him. He smiled and walked over to me. "I promised you didn't I?" He said kissing the top of my head. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I nodded before looking at him. Max smiled before pulling me into him. Sydney stumbled over to us, while Cayden held on to her for dear life. "Walk please!" Sydney said from behind us. We both looked at her and then walked back through the door of the house.

We maneuvered through the crowed house before walking out of the front door towards the line of cars that filled the street. I saw Max's BMW parked a little ways down the street. I couldn't help myself from looking down both ends of the street looking for any sign of Chris. I looked both ways, but nothing. He was nowhere to be seen. He disappeared. I sighed of relief. I didn't realized I had stopped walking before I heard Max calling my name. I snapped my gaze towards him. Feeling as if I had gotten caught.

"What?" I asked quickly. He smiled before shaking his head. "Babe, unlock the car" He said motioning towards the car and Cayden who was now doubled over against the car, groaning. Sydeny sighed as she rubbed his back. I quickly walked over to them before unlocking the car.

"Dude, you puke in my car and I'm taking yours" Max said looking at Cayden before opening the passenger seat sliding in. Sydney opened the back door before shoving Cayden in, then following him. I swallowed and took a deep breath and sliding into the drivers seat.

heyoooo hope you absoluely loved the first part, tell me what you thought

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akoyaxs · 6 days

Note

Hi! Could I request a fic where the Metkayina are having a festival and perhaps Rotxo, Aonung and Neteyam all had been crushing on our lovely fem!Na'vi!reader and are eager to try and court her so essentially they are all fighting for her attention?

Like reader doesn't notice this at all but the guys all are eager to ask reader to dance, perhaps pour a serving of food for reader to show their intent of courtship, give a gift and such but they don't realize they're all trying to court her until they notice that there's competition?

Perhaps reader is just talking with Tsireya, teasing her about her thing with Lo'ak and is oblivious while Aonung, Rotxo and Neteyam are plotting how to win reader's heart.

Each move they make has them glaring at each other when reader isn't looking and it's just 3 guys trying to win over one girl?

Who do you think would win this fight?

I offer free reign and this could either be sfw or nsfw (both are amazing)

Or.. perhaps alternate endings showing what happens depending on who wins her heart? 👀

Have fun with this, thank you! <3

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

To be fair, you were oblivious at the best of times. It was something Tsireya had always teased you about- like she could be one to talk! And of course, while the two of you would sit giggling in her marui, the next room over, Aonung and Rotxo would be sitting in silence, each pretending to be in their own thoughts and enjoying each others company in silence, but they’d both really be listening for you. For your voice, for the sound of your smile beneath your words, for the tiniest of confessions you felt something for someone.

Nothing ever came, until another contender joined the fight. Rotxo tried to be kind to Neteyam like he was to others, and he buried his worry and jealously just as deep as his feelings for you. And Aonung, oh fiery, jealous Aonung didn’t try to even hide it. That fight on the beach only made his hatred for Neteyam grow deeper, especially the way you had shouted him down after it and then immediately went to apologise on Aonung’s behalf TO NETEYAM.

It was a while until Neteyam and Aonung and Rotxo became friends, and even longer before they finally came clean about what they truly felt. It was then - one night on an abandoned beach, roasting fish by a fire - that they decided on a fair game. May the best man win.

Each was determined, each had their own approach.

Neteyam was helpful, offering to teach you how to shoot a bow, telling you stories about the forest, inviting you to even fly on his ikran with him. (It was a smart tactic given the way you looped yourself all around him until every part of you was against him, yet most of the time your eyes were closed and it was rather clear you were terrified. He decided maybe heights weren’t your thing, and amended his plan).

Rotxo was sweet, bringing you every little thing he could. Little shells and seaglass and stones he found to match your eyes, or your favourite top. Then of course making jewellery with his precious finds, and leaving them in little places for you to find. You didn’t know he was the one doing it, and he was too shy to give it to you at first, but the first time he saw that woven necklace with the pearl on it, he was sure his heart could have burst into flame.

And Aonung, oh ridiculously confident Aonung, wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never felt like this - aflame every time he saw you, always occupied by every thought of you, heart thumping wildly everytime your fingertips brushed over him. He found himself seating himself beside you at every party, every dinner, every festival. He would set his leg aside so it would brush yours no matter the distance, revelling in the way you flushed but never moved away. He would keep his eyes on you at every fight, then come straight to you to clean him up and fuss over him, telling him not to fight all the time or next time you wouldn’t help him. (You were lying, the next time he came back, you even gave his neck a little massage when you complained).

It was only at the festival that they decided enough was enough. Your ignorance to their feelings was becoming a little ridiculous now.

So they assumed the positions. Neteyam offering to dance with a charming smile. Rotxo flitting around bringing you drinks and food and everything he could lay a hand on until you placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile and told him you were fine, why doesn’t he just sit and talk with you for a bit? Of course, Aonung settled himself in his normal position at your side, closer than usual, leaning back on an arm when Neteyam reapproaches, an arm positioning itself just beyond the far side of your waist so he’s half-holding you into him.

And what could you do?

Three of them - one of you?

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...

You best imagine that the smile on his face was nothing short of radiant. He would take you straight away from the festivities for a moonlit walk along the beach, halfway through he'd finally take your hand and revel in the ease with which your fingers lace in his. He'd tell you why he likes you, how long he's liked you, just how beautiful you look in the pale moonlight. Shortly after which he'd kiss you, and you'd melt straight into him and never leave his arms again.

He's never been more excited. more nervous. more terrified. Truth be told, he had never really thought this far because he'd never be self-assured enough to think you'd actually choose him over Neteyam or Aonung. But under your gaze and smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, he stammers everything he likes about you and the whole truth about everything and then, nervously...

"Can I kiss you?"

It's sweet, gentle, tentative. He breathes you in, his hand tangling in your hair, revelling in the way you smile against his lips, or the way your hair smells like coconut.

Oh, and he 100% asked Can I be your boyfriend now?

Oh, Aonung would never admit he was surprised. But the feeling of relief when he knows you chose him takes him by surprise. Instantly he's bundling you the fuck away from other people, a wide grin stretched across his face, holding you as close to him as possible until you're safely behind the woven curtain of your marui. Best believe you got some good dick that night, but also the from gentlest, kindest version of Aonung you have ever seen. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, forehead pressed you yours, lips never leaving your skin, whether it be your lips, forehead, neck, breasts, collar, cheek, jaw, literally wherever they can land.

Also he would confess everything to you while he's inside and close, sort of like a Simon and Daphne moment from bridgerton but ONE HUNDRED times better because you all know that I might like Aonung just a little bit >-<

#ask #avatar fandom #avatar fanfiction #aonung #avatar the way of water #avatar #aonung fanfiction #aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #avatar smut #aonung fic #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #rotxo #avatar rotxo #rotxo x reader

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hispg · 5 months

Text

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:3.4k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

An: Sooo there is the new chapter! I was so anxious to write it and post it! In all honesty, this is the chapter that I most liked to write(so far).

I've been receiving some dms about creating a taglist, so I'll do it from the next chapter and on. If you're interested in entering the tag list, you can dm me or comment on any chapters of this fic, and I'll add you. For the ones who already talked to me, I'll put you on the list already, so you don't need to message me again!<3

Also, I'll start to crosspost this fic here and on Ao3, for the ones who prefer to read in there. Here's the link Ao3. Eventually, I'll post all chapters!

Chapter 5: Pretty lies

The heavy rain outside was no bother to the couple in bed, just as the cold was no problem that couldn't be solved with the intimacy that had just been shared under the covers.

There he was, lying with his lover, Ashley. Warming another woman's bed, offering her the warmth that his body emanated, the love that made her heart beat faster every time.

Both were nude, without the slightest concern for anything, all that mattered was what had just happened in that room. The closeness they shared, the oaths of love spoken between each kiss, between each embrace.

They had just made love, done something that was yet another symbol of the compromising union they contained.

Leon hadn't gone back to the castle as soon as he arrived back from his trip, he had gone to his beloved's house, a hidden place that only they knew where it was, only the lovebirds met there.

It was their love nest.

The same place where Ashley gave herself to him for the first time, the same sacred place where they made love whenever they could. The place where they loved each other deeply, where they didn't have to hide anything.

Ashley lay with her head on Leon's bare chest, while he had one arm wrapped around her and the other stroking her blonde hair.

The only sound in the room was the wood cracking in the fireplace and the soft breathing of both of them in that bed.

The clothes were thrown about, the silk covers hiding their shame, but if Leon was being honest, he couldn't think of a better place to be.

Because he felt at home every time he was with Ashley, even if he knew it was wrong.

And he was screwed if anyone found out.

"Are you staying?" Ashley asks in a whisper, taking the opportunity to place a soft kiss on his chest.

Leon gives her a blown smile, looking at her tenderly, "I'd love to. But you know I can't."

It was already too bold of him to come to this place to spend time with her, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go along with her every whim.

Especially as the wedding was approaching, and he was dead if he didn't show up.

She sighed helplessly, knowing full well that this would be the answer from the start. But in all honesty, what did she expect? Despite her misfortunes, she was the mistress.

"I promise I'll try to see you more, mh? My wife won't be the problem, don't worry." Leon reassured her, kissed her on the forehead and got up, soon he would be getting ready to leave.

Although he wanted to be with her for even five more minutes, he would give all the money in the world to make it happen.

"Does she know about us?" Ashley asked, picking up the blanket and covering her bare midriff.

That was enough for Leon to clench his eyes shut, buttoning his pants as he stared at her.

"She can't even conceive of it. You know our deal." It was a good deal for both sides, not least because Leon didn't even want to imagine what Ashley's father would do to him once he found out what he and his daughter were doing behind closed doors.

Ashley then sighed, the blonde strands falling across her forehead as she thought for a moment.

"Do you think you can still see me after you're married?" She asks softly, almost embarrassed by her own question.

"I'll always find a way, don't worry." He says, the sincere smile that became the perfect proof that he was saying this from the bottom of his soul.

It was always a painful farewell, but Leon knew it was necessary for him to do it. Once he'd put all his clothes back on, he turned to Ashley, taking her in his arms and planting a gentle, passionate kiss on her lips. He also made a point of pressing his body against hers to leave his cologne on her.

It wasn't enough to have his smell on the silk sheets, he needed to leave his mark on her too.

Goodbyes aside, he knew he had to leave, the sun was rising, and if he wanted to get back to the castle before it was too late, he had to leave now.

As he took the steps to leave the small chalet in the Italian countryside, where no one suspected them, he took one last look at his beloved, giving her a broad smile as he said goodbye.

Watching Ashley go all wobbly as he walked out the front door. She sighed as her lover left, waving to him and looking dreamily out of the window.

Leon walked up to the discreet carriage that was waiting for him in front of the cottage, besides the coachman, there was Leon's faithful butler, Ausdret.

And also his worst accomplice, the butler who always covered up everything Leon did, no matter how stupid it might seem or be.

"Your Highness." Ausdret greeted, leading Leon to the carriage.

"It's good that you're here." Leon replies back, tucking himself into the small carriage.

His butler nods and sits down on the opposite seat, facing Leon. Even though Ausdret knew that no one could put a halter on Leon, he was still trying to talk some sense into his young, dim-witted head.

"Your Highness do you not think it is inappropriate to maintain this relationship?" Ausdret asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Leon scoffed, narrowing his gaze at the poor butler, acting as if he had said the worst blasphemy that could be heard.

"Come on, you're a braggart too. Don't act like you're a kind gentleman with exemplary decorum." Leon retorts, crossing his legs as he fixes the buttons on his shirt once more.

Ausdret couldn't help but sigh, trying his best to make Leon understand how problematic it would be to keep all this up.

"Prince, you have a fiancée now. This relationship is no longer suitable." The butler said once again, pausing and emphasizing his lines, it wasn't possible that this was so difficult to understand.

"Well, it'll last as long as I want it to. You know better than that." Leon says, an unparalleled coldness in his voice, it was obvious, this subject was not up for discussion for him.

Ausdret always thought that this was just a youthful romance of Leon's, in fact he never thought that it would thrive for so long, for years. Leon was a man who could have any woman he wanted, not only because of the power he possessed, but also because of his beauty.

However, what the butler couldn't have guessed was that Leon would fall in love with Lady Ashley, a princess from another place. A likely romance, but love doesn't work properly in royalty.

"But Your Highness-" Leon interrupts Ausdret before he can continue.

"I am the prince, and you collaborate with me." Leon begins, his voice becoming an authoritative, voracious whisper.

"As I'm your highness, you must agree that you didn't see anything unusual. That I was on a business trip these last few days." Leon says, his gaze narrowing once more on the servant.

What could Ausdret say? He had always supported this boy, and even with a lump forming in his throat, he wasn't going to do any different again.

The butler knew that this situation wasn't fair to you, nor to Ashley, it would only end up with broken hearts and a quarrel that couldn't be undone.

Perhaps Leon was too young to understand this, but at some point fate would catch up with him.

"So? Did you see anything?" Leon asked, almost daring him to give an answer that was the opposite of what he wanted to hear.

"No, Your Highness. I didn't see anything suspicious." Ausdret replied under his breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head in denial.

"Good." Leon grumbles back.

The journey wouldn't take long, but Ausdret already knew that the rest of the way would be filled with the ache of an inconvenient silence.

You knew you'd end up getting into trouble with your recent actions, but that still didn't stop you from going ahead with them. At that moment you were in the grassy fields on the outskirts of the castle.

It was easy to get here, you just needed the help of Chris and your maid, Evelyn. Nothing more than a silly little lie to disguise your departure.

The view was beautiful, you felt almost at home in a place like this. You were sitting on the horse while Chris guided the animal, walking through the grass carefully while also keeping an eye on you.

You couldn't tell if you were approaching Chris out of hurt ego, or because he was someone incredibly interesting and good to have around.

Perhaps you had combined the useful with the pleasant, because in all honesty, you couldn't deny that you were enjoying all this time with Chris, even feeling more at peace with yourself.

"Well, at least you escaped the tea party." Chris jokes, looking at you with a smile.

You nod, smiling back at him.

"God, I can't imagine what it would be like to spend another afternoon with Mrs. Hisltons!" You grumble, frowning as you remember all the tedious conversations the lady has put you through.

Chris couldn't help himself and laughed out loud, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, tell me about it. As soon as I got here, she gave me a good lecture on why I should get married." Chris says with a playful tone, walking slowly with you through the pastures.

You smiled a little, petting the horse as a question popped into your mind.

"But, forgive me for being impolite, but why haven't you gotten married yet?" You asked calmly, giving him the opportunity not to answer if he didn't want to.

"Nothing in particular, I just haven't found any suitors that catch my eye." He says, without much ado, getting straight to the point.

You'd think someone as cultured as him would want a woman who knew a bit more than just dresses and jewelry. Completely fair and understandable.

But you still can't help thinking that Chris was alone by choice, it wouldn't be the first time a man had preferred being alone to being married.

"I understand, but is it something you're thinking of doing? I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive." You say with a peaceful smile, trying to get to know the man you've grown so close to over the last few days.

Chris then paused and pondered, thinking of an answer that would measure up. But he couldn't think of anything more sincere than:

"Yes, I intend to." Just like that, or any other explanation.

But you saw his eyes light up a little when he looked at you for a brief moment, making you quietly gasp.

You then returned your gaze to your surroundings, the countryside that was such a contrast to the life you had. Which was far from peaceful.

Although you knew it shouldn't take you so long to get back to the castle, as they would probably notice you were gone, you could stubbornly stay here with him.

With Chris, the man who had been giving you so much comfort recently.

Chris then looked at you with a charming gaze, helping you off the horse. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you got off the animal.

Feeling his heavy, manly hands on your body made you feel something different, but you preferred not to mention it. Not least because you were being completely inappropriate for a dame.

You allowed yourself to feel the ground beneath your heels, removing the footwear from your body, feeling the grass between your toes.

The thought of returning to your new home was already distant, you could even swear that you forgot about Leon for just a moment. You forgot about the fact that he was coming back today.

And that he would be back around noon. And it was almost two in the afternoon, he was probably already at the castle by then.

But well, what would be the point of sneaking out of the castle with the Duke if not for a bit of confusion.

"You know, this is turning out to be one of the nicest afternoons I've had." Chris says, smiling and following you as you walk across the lawn.

"Oh, yes. It's nice to get out of that place for a bit." You say, looking at the sun, which is already descending.

Chris followed you, keeping an eye on every step. And you even saw out of the corner of your eye that he tried to take your hand, but hesitated to make such an intimate gesture.

You even heard the trumpets sounding in the distance, announcing the prince's arrival, but nothing that made you move from where you were.

And well, from the way Chris stood next to you as you watched the landscape of the field, he wouldn't leave until you asked him to.

At one point, you thought it would be better to leave, perhaps so as not to cause Chris any trouble. But the moment Chris's fingers touched your cheek, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, something in you sparked.

It was impossible to hide the red tinge that appeared on your cheeks, as well as the way you just ignored everything else. Everything seemed right.

You were surrendered, and you didn't want to leave this man's side. What on earth were you doing?

Why did you feel so torn? It couldn't end well.

"Where is she?" It was the first question Leon asked as soon as he set foot in the castle, finding it strange that his fiancée wasn't here to greet him.

"The princess isn't feeling well, Your Highness." Evelyn, the maid who helped you escape, answered.

Leon wrinkled his eyebrows, glancing at the door of your chambers, he hadn't quite believed that excuse.

"Tell her I'll come and see her. She doesn't have to leave her room." Leon says, looking at the way the maid was beginning to shudder.

"She's really not well, Your Highness-" Leon didn't care how much the maid protested, he went ahead and went to your bedroom.

He opened the door without any manners, looking around as he searched for any sign of you. But he was disappointed when he found your bed empty, the room perfectly tidy and untouched. You hadn't been in that room for a while.

Your lie was already falling apart, as they say lies don't go far.

"Where is she?" Leon asked once again, this time more coldly and authoritatively, demanding an answer.

"I don't know! She was here this morning." The maid manages to stutter, unable to face Leon.

Leon clenched his fists, frustration and irritation taking over his feelings. You were getting out of hand, it wasn't enough that you'd been so bold with Chris, now this?

Even though he was away, he knew everything that was going on in that castle, and he couldn't let it continue the way it was.

Who did you think you were?

"Have her searched all over the castle." Leon demanded, leaving your room to look for you.

As soon as Leon saw that the maid hadn't moved a muscle, he added:

"Immediately." His voice was a low grunt, capable of sending a chill down anyone's spine.

The maid moved quickly, warning the other servants about the princess's 'disappearance', and they all stood by to look for you.

Nothing. They looked for you in every corner of that castle, every room, every space you could be in. And they found nothing, not a single sign of you.

Leon was fulminating, realizing that you and the Duke weren't in that castle. And you probably weren't close.

"We haven't found her, Your Highness. The princess isn't in the castle." One of the servants dares to speak, trembling at having to address the prince.

"What do you mean she's not in the castle?" Leon muttered, looking out the windows while trying to find you somehow.

And Leon had to stop himself from gritting his teeth as he watched the scene with his own eyes. You came in through the back door, a delicate hood over your head to disguise your identity.

You were sitting on Chris's horse, smiling happily as the man led the horse inside. You seemed so close, so intimate.

Something about it made Leon go crazy, he can't say, but some strange feeling rose in his chest and made a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

What were you thinking? You were a lady, Jesus! You should behave like one.

"You are dismissed, return to your duties." Leon says to the other servants, leaving no room for questions.

Drastic situations call for drastic measures, only then will you be able to understand your place. And how you should act as a future queen.

Leon waited, right in the center of the main hall, he decided he would act as if he hadn't seen anything. He felt his breathing quicken, heard the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

He didn't know if it was anger, disappointment or something else.

You didn't realize he was there until you saw the pair of blue eyes looking you up and down, for some reason sending a shiver up your spine.

"I was worried about you." He was the first to speak, approaching you without a second thought.

"Excuse me, Your Highness. I needed some fresh air." You say, your voice smooth as silk, sweet as honey.

You needed to act as if nothing much had really happened, as if you hadn't gone off with the Duke alone, without letting anyone know.

Even more so, going out alone with a man.

Leon narrows his eyes, placing a hand on your waist, pulling you close. His touch made you gasp, your eyes widen and your breathing hitch, at the same moment you felt your breath mingle with his.

For a moment, you looked at each other, his penetrating gaze causing an incomparable flush to rise to your cheeks. His hands on your body, one holding your cheek, steadying you to do what he wanted to do.

What was he going to do? Oh, you realized it in the next second, when you saw his face coming closer to yours. His nose touching yours, and then, that's when…

He kissed you.

His lips against yours, his hand holding you firmly and preventing you from moving. It was unconscious, instinctive, you moved your lips in sync with his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you sealed this moment with the warm intimacy of a kiss.

It wasn't sincere, it was carnal.

The world around you seemed to stop, you were focused on the warm feeling that took over your body, the way the heat of the moment enveloped you. Your body molded itself to his so well, it was so perfect.

As if it was meant to be.

It was painful to separate your lips from his, your mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Was it real? Had he reconsidered? Maybe he was going to give you both a chance?

You were a very dreamy girl perhaps, those endless dreams that you wished from the bottom of your soul were real, that you clamored for to come true at some point.

But oh, that little act, it was far from a dream.

When you regained your senses, you looked around and saw a group of high-class ladies staring at the two of you. The dreamy looks and sighs they gave when they saw the couple, the passionate couple.

In the corner, you saw the king and queen, smiling approvingly at the two of you. They were proud.

A show off.

Reality weighed heavily on your mind when you understood. It was nothing, it was a show off, an exhibition. The momentary magic wore off and gave way to the bitterness that once again fell upon you.

Whose fault was it? Yours, for having once again believed in the foolishness that was Leon's chance of seeing you beyond being a prize. Or Leon, for toying with you in such a way?

In any case, what a shame. The taste of his lips was imprinted on yours, the sensation of his lips against yours was still so vivid. So real. You felt loved in a few seconds, putting yourself in your place soon after.

With one simple action, Leon reminded you of who you belong to, legally, and also reminded you of your place. Of your obligations to him, he came out the winner once again.

Damned bastard.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months

Text

Yan Android Maids + Sick G.N Reader

Warnings: none

WC: 1.3k

(A sorta commission for anon - sorry for the slight delay, hope it's to your liking!)

“Master, are you….”

“-Feeling alright?”

The saccharine chirp of one android's voice overlaps the monotonous drone of the other as both tuck you into bed. That alone should've been enough proof of your ailing condition. Clementine and Lemon rarely see eye to eye what with Lemon's free spirit and Clem sticking to rules she herself set in stone. Most the two had in common was their mutual love for you, and keeping you safe from harm. They both cared for you dearly- even if their judgment of others was a bit blindsided at times.

“I feel fine.” Speaking out loud you could hear and feel it yourself - soreness in the back of your throat. “It's probably nothing.”

Lemon airs their disapproval against the back of your palm, cheek brushing your knuckles as they hum - lost in thought and by the heat of your skin. “Mmm, I'm not so sure. You're a bit warmer than usual. Not that it's a bad thing - just an observation.”

Clementine cups your face in her hands - guiding you to look upward as she bends to your level. “There appears to be some irritation in your eyes as well. I understand you may be tired, but it won't take us long to do a check up.”

“Give you something to take before you drift off at the very least.” Lemon adds.

“I'm fine, I'm fine! Whatever it is, I'm sure I can sleep it off.”

You wave their concerns off - closing your hands over your mouth as a sharp cough splinters through you. The blunt ends of Clementine fingertips press against your jaw, however she lets you go despite her worry - easing your head back down on your pillow.

“As you wish, Master. Sleep well.” Clementine finishes tucking you in - stuffing the sheets beneath the mattress to make them nice and snug meanwhile Lemon prepares a spot for themselves at the end of your bed. They curl up at your feet, resting their head on a pillow they snuck from your side as Clem checked you over. Clementine does not look amused by their antics.

She grabs them by the collar - lifting the smaller android a head shorter than her off your bed with minimal effort. “I think master will get better sooner if they are alone for this evening.”

“Nooooo, don't you see the best medicine for them is our love?”

Clementine pauses, the orange lights of her eyes cycling brighter before she snaps out of whatever had stolen her train of thought. “I find that possibility to be highly unlikely.”

Clementine throws Lemon over her shoulder, carrying them to their charging station as their cries for freedom drag down the halls. You turn over as best one stampled to their bed could before discovering how difficult it came to be to breathe while laying on your side. You flop onto your back, hoping whatever got to you would be gone by morning-

It was not gone by morning.

Waking up, you struggled to even open your eyes from just how heavy your entire body felt. Breathing through your nose seemed impossible, but the alternative wasn't much better. Sucking air between your teeth brought attention to the dryness of your mouth and tongue which remained no matter how much spit you swallowed. You try to call for help, but all that leaves you is a wry-

“Ughhhh…..”

Quiet giggles sound from your left. As horrid as you feel you aren't delirious quite yet.

“Aw, is Master not feeling well?~ If only there were someone to care for them.”

“Now isn't the time to tease them. Help them up while I prepare a towel.”

“On it!”

Your bed groans from the additional strain as Lemon sits besides you - carefully pulling you upwards. Clementine removes a clean towel from the tray the two prepped after hearing you tossing and turning in your sleep - dipping the rag in a small bowl of water before dabbing it at your forehead and anywhere else sweat visibly clings to your skin. She brushes stray strands of hair from your face, dropping her voice a few notes in mind of the headache you most likely had.

“How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” You grumble, unsure on whether to clutch the blankets for dear life or throw them off you. “Everything hurts…. My back is killing me.”

“Allow me to reveal some of that tension if you don't mind.” Lemon scoots behind you, placing their hands on the lower part of your back and beginning to knead at the tense muscles with their fingers. They work their way up your spine, soothing the tight areas throughout as they press and roll their palms gingerly over the surface of your back. As they rub out the knots, Clementine picks up a bottle from the tray - pouring the dark liquid onto the spoon held in her opposite hand.

“Open wide.”

You mentally steel yourself to swallow as you open your mouth. Clementine pinches the bridge of your nose, tilting your head back slightly as she holds the spoon up to your lips. A thought crosses your mind as the foul taste coats your tongue.

“Didn't.. that bottle come with one of those little measuring cups?”

“Yes, but - I thought it may help the medicine go down easier if I spoon fed it to you… Is there a problem with that, Master?”

“No, not at all.” It was nice when Clementine expressed her own wants every once in a while - though she wasn't as direct as Lemon is. Clem sets the bottle down, handing you a cup to rinse the taste from your mouth and hopefully pacify the burning feeling in your throat. You take a sip - warm, yet refreshing water hitting your tongue joined by the hint of lemon and an afterthought of honey. You glue down the rest of the water- pausing to breathe as you choke with the assistance of Lemon patting your back to help the fluid caught in your chest go down. Clementine takes the cup from you and places it on your nightstand as you collect yourself.

“Thanks, Clem…. You too, Lemon. I don't know where I'd be without you two.”

Lemon kisses the back of your head, rubbing small circles into your back as they rest their head on your shoulder. “It's our duty and our pleasure. We only want what's best for you - nothing more, nothing less. Personally, I think you could do with some more rest, and maybe some company to assure you get said rest.”

Clementine turns her head, gearing to scold Lemon- Despite the lingering ache in your throat, you speak up.

“Actually… That sounds pretty nice right about now.”

Clementine stiffens - eyes aglow with that same spark as before. “Then…. Is it alright if I join the two of you?”

“Of course!” You slide over to make extra room for Clementine as Lemon already makes themselves comfortable in your bed. Lemon is quick to hook their arms around you in stark contrast to Clementine's clear concern for crushing you preventing her from entering your bed. You offer her your hand. The android stares at it briefly before locking her fingers with your own, pulling herself up onto the mattress as she tunes the fragile strings of her artificial heart to your pulse beating from your fingertips.

“I…was so worried about you.”

“I know, Clem. It's okay.”

“Clem~ I think it's time for Master to get some more shut eye, don't you? Save the talking for when they're in a better condition to hold a conversation.”

“If you're jealous you know you can just hold my other hand, Lemon.”

“Jealous? Me? I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, Master. This sickness must really be getting to you.”

Despite their denial, it isn't long before your free hand is occupied by the embrace of another. You pretend not to notice as Clementine inches closer, drifting back off to sleep coddled by the adoration and love of your caretakers.

#clementine my oc #lemon my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere android #yandere robot #yandere fluff #yandere drabble #female yandere

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fatuismooches · 4 months

Text

Imagine Dottore comforting you after a bad experience in school.

You would have just finished something you've worked very hard on, something you were genuinely interested in too, perhaps a project or essay or anything in between. You were up late, pouring all of your energy into your research to create the best result you possibly could. And yet, you could never stay awake longer than Zandik, who finally realized what you meant when you always complained about how stubborn he was about sleeping since he was met with the same stubbornness from you in these moments. Still, he was quite impressed with your dedication to your work. Though he may not share the same interests as you always, may have even found some of them frivolous at first, he can respect your passion for them.

You would frequently stress over it and fret over everything, which Zandik was slightly exasperated at because you're the most competent person he knows in the whole Akademiya. You don't need to be so doubtful of yourself, he knows you very well and is confident in your intelligence. But of course, he'll edit and read over your work when you beg him to, unsurprisingly it's able to keep his attention unlike much of his peers' work. You would thank him for all of his help, but he would only chide you for that, since you were being far too modest as you were the one who did all the work. He has no worries about your grade, having the utmost confidence, hell, his picky self approved it. That lessened your anxiety a lot as you waited for the verdict.

Unfortunately, it turns out to be the opposite. See, Zandik is no stranger to his work being ignored and ridiculed as well, which he's gotten used to at this point, (though you've become the one person who's always willing to listen) but it still infuriates him to see others at the Akademiya not take you seriously. Zandik's hands feel out of place and unusual holding you as you weep into his chest, but it seems to make you feel a bit better so he doesn't protest. He lets you cry about how rude the professor was for no reason. About how it feels like everything you've worked and studied for has been diminished. How it hurts to have such hard work reduced to nothing.

There's only so much comfort Zandik can provide with his body in this situation, so he does what he does best - hard, indisputable facts. His view of you and your intelligence is very set in stone. He won't let anyone convince him or you to think differently, and he tells you to ignore all others who disagree. He sees how hard you work even if others have the gall to deny it, and that your work will always reflect that nature of yours. And he, for one, will always be willing to listen and appreciate, just as you do for him. He sees what a fascinating mind you have, and that will always be more than enough for him.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #can dottore do my math hw while i do all the writing #we would be a good pair #we would both get kisses and A's in return #work smarter not harder #this may be bad. but i wanted to get something out there 😭

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leandra-winchester · 11 days

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On Oliver's social media behavior regarding Bucktommy vs. Buddie

Kind of in line with many of the good points raised by @bbbuckaroo in this ask response, but I wanted to make my own post about it.

I, too, have seen posts that prompted this ask - from more well-meaning people remarking that Oliver could/should maybe say something against the toxic Buddie shippers and promote Bucktommy more, to more critical voices saying he's essentially ship-baiting with Buddie because he keeps posting about them.

As the referenced post says, Oliver "knows how important and pivotal the Buddie FRIENDSHIP is".

So let's look at that from Oliver's (and in connection also Ryan's) point of view for a moment here.

You're an actor who's been playing one half of what is one of the most integral relationships on a very successful show. That relationship has textually always been a friendship, but with elements that make it richer and deeper than most regular friendships; it's a sort of family dynamic.

It could be read as having a potential for romance, and you're open to that, should the writers ever decide that's the direction they want to take it. You have said so multiple times, not just to appease a large group of fans, but because you genuinely mean it. You're open to it, but you don't know if it's ever going to happen, nor do you have any power over it.

You do love the way fans are celebrating this relationship though - whether they highlight the canonical platonic aspects or take it a step further. You "love the love" (as Ryan has put it). It's great, it's heartwarming, it's moving because the potential of that romance and your character figuring out he's bisexual means so much to queer fans who are looking for good queer representation (which your show already has, but there could always be a bit more, right?). You see and want to acknowledge all the creativity people pour into it.

But you're careful after a while, because, so far, that relationship has only textually been platonic, and some fans are accusing both the writers and you of queerbaiting.

So you take a step back, do less social media for a while. You don't want them to think you're confirming anything just because you see value in certain fictional interpretations of the text.

But then you are told that your character is supposed to come out as bisexual; he'll have a romance with a background character they're bringing back for a couple of episodes. While that's not exactly the relationship many of the fans hoped to get, it's still amazing. It's the right representation of bisexual characters that is very rarely done right, and it'll confirm that they always read your character correctly as bisexual. It'll be so validating to the fans to know they didn't misinterpret that, and you're very happy about that.

But you still love the family-like, platonic relationship you've built with the other character for 5 whole seasons before this. And you love the relationship your character has with his son, too. (In a way, Buck is to Christopher what Bobby is to Buck - a father figure).

You want to keep celebrating that because your new romantic relationship doesn't replace the year-long friendship with Eddie. You want to show fans that 'hey, even though this isn't exactly what you hoped for, it's still great; it's important. Eddie and Chris are still and always will be a huge part of Buck's life. Don't worry. Buck will not abandon them. I still see you and acknowledge you, but let's focus on the textual friendship and platonic love here. Which is also very, very important, and very dear to me personally."

And there isn't that much to share about a romantic relationship that's just begun yet anyway, especially with the season being so short and packed with multiple story arcs around the main characters. It's all still at the start, and while it's great, exciting and has the potential to become something lasting, nothing's set in stone yet. You probably also don't want to have people get their hopes up that Bucktommy is 'confirmed' as endgame; and you don't want to put a main character who has his own, very complex story arc going on this season on the backburner.

You've obviously 'done it wrong'. But no matter how else you could have done it, it would have been wrong as well. You probably know this by now, because no matter what you did in the past, there were always people who interpreted your actions and words in bad faith to confirm their own agenda.

So what the hell are you supposed to do other than what feels good to you while applying a little bit of caution?

---

Oliver CANNOT get it right. It's simply impossible. If he didn't post at all, some fans would be mad that he doesn't say anything. If he only or primarily promoted Bucktommy, they'd be mad that he ignores Eddie and Chris entirely. If he only promoted Buddie (platonic) and Chris, they'd be mad that he's ship baiting. And if he goes for the balance of putting his character's 6-year history with Eddie+Chris and the newly developing romance with Tommy in perspective, i.e. what he's doing right now, they're still mad.

In any potential scenario, the loud and obnoxiously entitled portion of the fandom would find a reason to criticize. It really does not matter what he does.

So, where does that leave us? Personally, I'd say leave the man alone. Let him post and say what he feels is best, and don't try to look at it under any 'bad faith' lens. He's probably given it sufficient thought and does what he thinks is best and feels right.

#Oliver Stark #bucktommy #buddie #yes I'm tagging it as that because it's about that ship too #buddie but platonic #platonic buddie #fandom discourse #911 discourse #911 #this post isn't anti buddie #and I believe Oliver isn't anti buddie either #it's ONE interpretation of the show #but it's fanon as of now #and imho indefinitely #luckily there are many buddie shippers who get that #but the obnoxious ones are sadly the loudest #as always

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cuubism · 1 year

Note

No worries if the prompt doesn't inspire. I just want it out of my brain:

When Dream is captured, his ruby automatically goes to Hob, who is suddenly in charge of the Dreaming. He has to figure out what he's doing, realize his Stranger is missing/rescue him, and try to get answers on why the Dreaming chose him.

this could absolutely be a 100k epic, which... i just don't have the energy for right now, but here's a potential scene:

Hob's been to more than a few castles in his long life. Hob's as old as more than a few castles. He's seen them from afar, and in more prosperous times he's been in them, majestic old forts and comparatively modern palaces bursting with color and finery and legions of staff.

And the thing about castles is they're busy. It takes a lot of staff to run a castle. The only castles Hob's seen that were empty were the ruined ones, fortresses that predated even Hob, were nothing but crumbling remnants by the time he ever set foot inside.

More like tombs, those castles. Relics. Memorials.

The palace he's in now feels more like that.

It hasn't crumbled, still has all its glass intact, its draperies and rugs not yet moth-eaten, the strong pillars of the throne room still reaching up to an infinite sky. It's beautiful, fine stone and intricate carvings, stained glass murals and impossible bridges--but desolate. And quiet. Quiet enough his soft, bare footsteps echo loudly on the flagstones as he walks towards the empty throne at the end of the long room.

It's so empty. He hasn't seen a soul yet. Twilight falls through the stained glass, casting patterns of red and orange at his feet. Winding stairs meander up to the throne, nearly lost in the gloom. Melancholy blooms in his heart, like he knows, through some instinct, that this place should be different. The feeling of standing in ruins of stone and thinking, this was grand, once.

The ruby glows in his palm, pulsing steadily.

Hob slowly ascends the stairs, unsure exactly what he's looking for. Answers? A way to revive this place from its steadily deepening torpor? He just climbs, and he reaches the throne, and runs his hand over the hard cut stone. Imposing, unforgiving, and no trace of its master. The king's gone.

For all his many careers, Hob's never been any sort of king. It's not something one just becomes.

He wanders behind the throne, just below the high stained glass windows. The ruby warm in his palm. When he steps into the shadows, they change, and a new room appears around him. A softer, more enclosed room, for private musings rather than public audiences. A bedroom. The king's bedroom.

Morpheus's bedroom.

Hob startles, grip closing around the ruby. He doesn't know how the name comes to him. Only he holds the ruby, and he feels it.

The room is simpler than he might have expected of a king, almost sparse, as if little time is spent there. The draperies are dark, the bare stone floor cold underfoot, and the massive window looks out over twilit fields and mountains, an entire kingdom below.

Hob almost walks over to it, but his attention is diverted by the robe that lays strewn across the bed, disrupting the otherwise untouched lines of the linens. He picks up the hem of the long, black cloak. The fabric flows like mercury between his fingers for all that it's heavy and thick like a shield. Like a shroud.

Hob gathers it up in his arms, a quiet gasp escaping him. He knows such black clothing. He knows this ruby. Only he hadn't seen it before. Hadn't seen that he was dreaming.

Morpheus. His stranger. A king and he'd never said.

He'd always had that bearing, though, Hob thinks as he twists his hands in the impossibly soft fabric of the coat. He'd never have let Hob in here, especially not after how they'd left things. He'd never have given Hob his ruby, which Hob can now feel isn't just an expensive trinket but actually some sort of powerful object. If they'd even reunited, if his stranger had returned, Hob had expected at best concessionary forgiveness for his bluntness, and possible just sullen silence. Not an invite to his inner sanctum.

A space which his stranger is conspicuously absent from.

Hob doesn't like the feeling of what it adds up to.

He takes the cloak, and the ruby. Lays a hand indulgently on the bedspread, imagining his-- his friend, he'll be determined about it, sleeping there. Not he seems to sleep much, from the look of things.

Then he leaves Morpheus's bedroom be, and goes to see if there's anyone left in this abandoned kingdom who can tell him what's happened to his friend.

#dreamling #hob gadling #my writing #ask #silverdrip

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ultzwoozi · 9 months

Text

“ how could you love me..? ”

currently playing: heart like yours by willamette stone

pairings: woozi x gn!reader genre: angsty fluff ; one-shot warning(s): panic attack, slight mentions of insomnia and insecurities. reader kinda has separation anxiety word count: 0.7k authors note: something a bit angsty, i could js imagine woozi being actually good at comfort <3

summary: your boyfriend catches you in the midst of a panic attack, he comforts you and tries to find a way to help you

“ … Breathe deep, breathe clear Know that I'm here, know that I'm here Waiting Stay strong, stay gold You don't have to fear, you don't have to fear Waiting ”

breath in, breath out. thats what you were taught in situations like this. but nothings coming out. you feel like your suffocating, like the walls are closing in on you. sitting on the floor in the shared bedroom of you and your boyfriend, you try to calm yourself down. the lights are dimmed and its late at night, the neighbors were asleep. no one could hear you even if you wanted them to.

jihoon wasnt home. he hasnt been home for over 4 months, hes been on tour. hes finally coming home, but its all setting in. its hitting you harder than a truck, you missed him badly. you realize being so far away from him was a issue. you realized theres a possibility he could stop loving you on the way, theres a possibility he couldve met someone new, theres a possibility he could forget about you. you were overthinking. tears were running down your cheeks and you were hyperventilating badly.

the sleepless nights without him, the fear running through your head, thoughts starting to take up your mind, everything was making you crumble on the floor besides your bed. your ears started ringing, you couldn’t even hear the front door open.

“ … I'll see you soon, I'll see you soon ”

jihoon opened the front door with his keys and immediately could tell something was wrong. “y/n?” he called out, hoping you’d hear, but to no avail you couldn’t. he could hear the faint sobs coming from your room. even with how tired he was from all the traveling, he dropped his stuff by the door and ran over to your shared room. seeing you sitting on the floor, hyperventilating and sobbing, immediately got him worried. without another thought, he walked over and held you in his arms.

“hey hey its okay.. im here now.” he rested your head on his chest. you flinched a bit by the touch of him, not aware he was home yet, let alone in your room. after a minute, you melted into his arms, sniffling and sobbing lightly. your breathing slowly regulating as he whisper sweet nothings into your ear, making sure youre alright. he drew circles on your back, watching the rise and fall of your back.

once your breathing regulated to normal, jihoon pulled your face away from his chest and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “wanna tell me what happened?” he wiped away some tears with his thumb as he looked at you, pure worry filling his eyes.

“ … How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine? How could I live before? How could I have been so blind? You opened up my eyes You opened up my eyes Sleep sound, sleep tight ”

“i.. i don’t know its just..” you felt more hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks as the thoughts began to come back. “i started to over think.. and everything started to hit harder and.. god i missed you.” he felt a pain in his heart. he knew it could effect you being gone for so long for the first time in your relationship, but he didn’t think this could happen.

“i missed you too.. im so sorry.” he kissed your forehead and rested you back on his chest. you stayed there in a comfortable silence until your tears dried. after the soft moment, you spoke up.

“how could you love someone like me? you have so many options.. what if you meet someone beautiful when you’re out there?” that got him. that was what broke his heart. thinking in the case that you think of yourself so low. jihoon stayed silent for a moment, trying to think of the right words to say. it hurt that you doubted him. he kept drawing circles in your back as he thought.

“i like the y/n i have here. the loving, sweet, person i’ve grown to love. i don’t need anyone else. i need you. and i promise, im never gonna leave you alone again. you’re coming with me on tours from now on, i can’t leave you here like this.” with that he picked you up and carried you to your shared bed. he held you close to his chest. you snuggled up into his side and slowly found yourself resting in his arms. the tiredness from the traveling hit jihoon, and soon enough he fell asleep holding you tightly as if you were gonna disappear if he didn’t.

#lee jihoon #woozi #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x y/n #woozi x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt angst #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt woozi #kpop #kpop fanfic

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thebiggerbear · 2 months

Text

i need your hand but i don't want to burn it part 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader

A/N: Not going to lie, this past month has been a tough one for me. I recently lost someone and it just sucked all of the energy out of me for writing or anything else. I started this back on Feb 16th, within hours of receiving the news, because I was trying to process it as well as my feelings on it all. Beau was in my mind from the very beginning because like I mentioned before, I literally had the thought "Man, I could go for a Beau hug right about now." So this took form and even though I was blocked on everything else, this became a sort of tool of processing for me. I was going to keep this just for myself because I found it to be deeply personal, but then I thought, well, what if someone out there is also currently grieving someone they lost and a little Beau comfort might make them feel better, too? Even in this scenario? So that's why I'm sharing it.

While it is personal what I go into, I changed up things to keep it fictional and sort of tell a story. So the characters and dynamics are fictional, just not the feelings of the reader and the emotional journey/grieving process she goes through if that makes sense.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I attempted the graphics.

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Song that randomly came out of nowhere and strangely worked was "broken" by Jonah Kagen. The lyrics just really hit home for me.

Warnings: mention of death; death notification

Word Count: 8587

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Beau Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

It was a bright, sunny day when you got the news. The sky was this unimaginable shade of blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was a comfortable one. You were on the job and the slight breeze ruffled through your hair when you saw that your aunt was calling you. A knot immediately formed in your stomach; if she was calling you, that couldn’t be good. And sure enough, it wasn’t.

“She’s gone,” she informed you matter-of-factly.

It took a moment for your brain to catch up to what she was telling you. “What?”

“She’s gone, Y/N. Happened this morning.” Again, her tone was bland, as if she was simply telling you a package had been delivered to your home.

“How?” Your mind felt as if it was running in circles but also slowing down at the same time.

Poppernak’s head snapped in your direction but you immediately walked away from the scene. You didn’t notice the deputy watch after you and then head in Hoyt’s direction.

“Stroke.” Your aunt was only willing to give you one word but that one word changed your entire world. It altered the landscape of your universe in a big way.

You nodded, forgetting that the woman couldn’t see you, and you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You forced your gaze onto some trees ahead and mentally told yourself that you would not cry. “Oh,” you choked out. So much for not allowing any emotion to bleed through.

“Yep.”

Once again, very bland, almost dry. You weren’t surprised, though. It had always been like this between you. “Um…did they say when the services will—”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet but the information will be on the obituary online. It’ll probably tell people who can’t make it where to send flowers.” And just like that, the digs began.

You ignored her attitude and quietly cleared your throat. “Okay,” you attempted to smooth over. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Ida. If there’s anything you need, please call m—”

“Oh, I’ll call you, don’t you worry. But right now, as it stands, we’re good. I have to get going. I still have to get to the funeral home and make all the arrangements. I’ll be talking to you soon.” Before you could say goodbye, she hung up.

You let out a heavy sigh before lowering your phone from your ear. You focused on the trees once more, pushing any thoughts away and stuffing your emotions back down. When you felt confident enough that you wouldn’t break, you turned to find Hoyt and Poppernak watching you worriedly from near the crime scene tape. You sighed once more and then began your walk over to answer the burning questions they appeared to have.

You were driving back home on autopilot, lost in a sea of memories that forced a single tear out onto your cheek every now and then, prompting you to wipe each one away quickly. Your phone began to ring and as you expected, Beau’s name popped up. Well, that had to be some kind of record for Hoyt. Though, you supposed in these circumstances, you couldn’t blame her and you could appreciate her difficult position. She was only supposed to call Beau if there was an emergency but if she didn’t let him know that she sent you home for the rest of the day after receiving the news of a loved one’s passing, then she’d most likely be in hot water. In trouble with you or in trouble with Beau? It wasn’t hard to see why she made the choice she did.

Beau was on vacation and you hated for that to be interrupted, especially due to this. He worked his ass off every single day and he deserved this time. He had offered to take Cassie and Kai fishing and camping, after the date passed that the two were supposed to have gone with her dad who had been killed. Kai was excited and Cassie was grateful when Beau made the offer. You and Hoyt were happy for them. Beau had even tried to entice Emily to fly up for a visit and go with them, but Carla put a quick stop to that with the mention of school and it being Emily’s senior year. To say Beau had been disappointed was a massive understatement.

And now, he was most likely spending his time worrying about you alongside teaching Kai how to catch trout and attempting to keep Cassie laughing and her spirits high. You almost didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to be one more thing he had to worry about and also because you didn’t feel like talking, but in the end you did. To reassure him if for nothing else.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, sounding worried just like you had predicted. “You okay?”

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance at Hoyt. Despite your initial understanding, this really wasn’t something she needed to call him about. Someone else, yes, but for you, no. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him. “Hoyt just thought it best that I take the rest of the day, clear my head, and come back fresh tomorrow. That’s all.”

A moment of quiet passed between you as he likely mulled over your answer. Accepting it, he then offered, “Do you need anything?”

You cleared your throat to keep the lump at bay. “Nope. Thanks, though.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who passed?”

You pressed your lips together, not really wanting to answer, but he’d find out eventually. “My grandmother.”

Sure enough, his tone softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He knew how deeply this one would cut.

You swallowed past the lump again and forced out quietly, “Thanks, but it’s fine. It was expected at some point, you know?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” Beau lost his parents back when you had worked together in Houston. His dad had passed unexpectedly due to a heart attack. Everyone had been shocked, of course, but it hit Beau’s mom the hardest. It wasn’t too long after that when she started developing her own health issues and began declining. Beau’s father had only been gone for a year and a half when he lost his mom as well. You and your unit were there for him, giving him your unending support, and half of the department had showed up to the funeral, just as they had the senior Mr. Arlen’s. Not only was Beau well liked and respected but his family were no strangers to law enforcement; his dad had served on the force for decades before he finally retired.

What you were feeling now in no way rivaled the loss he had endured back then. He not only had lost a parent, but he lost both in a short time frame. You couldn’t imagine how you would be feeling had that been you. You doubted you would be able to stand up much less continue to function day to day like he had. You wished you could borrow some of his strength, something you could use right about now.

“True.”

Another moment of quiet filled the car tainted by uncertainty and an almost alien awkwardness. That wasn’t the norm for the two of you but this situation also wasn’t the norm. Being your best friend and having known you for a long time, Beau knew some of your history but not all of it. What little you had told him had been enough for him to know this wasn’t a topic you liked to revisit and he needed to leave well enough alone. So he’d happily compensate and regale you with funny stories of the hijinks he and his brother used to get up to when they were younger instead. He didn’t push for more than you were willing to give and that was something you deeply appreciated about him.

And right now, you appreciated him even more for not pressing you for details or trying to make small talk around the huge elephant that was currently sitting on top of you. An elephant in the form of your grandmother, an elderly woman who helped raise you who you had a…complicated relationship with to say the least. You tried to think back to one of the last times you had seen her but you really couldn’t remember. The memory was there somewhere, on the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Instead, a memory resurfaced of a younger you holding onto her hand as you crossed a busy crosswalk in the city, wearing one of your best dresses with tights, shoes, a very proper coat with gold buttons done up, and a ribbon in your long hair. You had been on your way to see a play that she managed to get tickets for and you remembered that moment of her immediately shielding you as a car nearly hit you both, ignoring the traffic light as well as all of the pedestrians crossing. You couldn’t remember the heated exchange between her and the driver of the yellow cab, but you did remember her hurrying you to safety and then kneeling down to check that you were okay. You could see the determination in her light eyes shadowed by a layer of fear as she did up the top two buttons of your fancy coat and smoothed a hand down your hair. She had protected you and basically saved your life. The memory shocked you with its reappearance; you hadn’t thought about that one in a long time. You had to have been around six years old when that happened.

Beau cleared his throat quietly. “Listen, I’m on my way back.”

That jerked you out of your reverie. “What? No, Beau, don’t. I’m fine. You’re on vacation and so is Cassie. Kai was excited to go on this trip, don’t cut it short. I appreciate it but I’d rather your plans didn’t get interrupted.”

“I already talked to Cassie and she’s in agreement. We’re heading back. She talked to Kai and he understands. We’re going to try this again next month.”

The guilt was thick inside your chest. He had been trying for a while now to get Cassie to agree to a fishing trip with him, and he’d only just convinced her. “Beau…”

“Already done,” he assured you. “We’re packing up now actually. Besides, you’re going to need some time and Hoyt’s going to need backup.”

“I told you, I’m fine and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. You don’t have to—”

“You’re going to need the time for the services. Any idea on when they might be yet?”

You pressed your lips together and glanced in your rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

He heard what you weren’t saying. “Well, it just happened. Give ‘em some time and they’ll sort it out,” he offered gently.

“Yeah,” you muttered.

“You set up a flight yet?”

You shook your head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“I should be back later tonight. I’ll come over and help you sort all of that out.”

It hit you in that moment that Beau was going to be seeing you in a few hours’ time. A part of you was relieved but another part of you wasn’t ready to let him in just yet. Not that you didn’t trust him (he was the person you trusted most actually) and not that he didn’t know how to be there for you, but something was stopping you from letting him.

“You’re going to be back late. How about you just stop by in the morning on your way to the office?”

You didn’t need to see Beau to know he was taken aback at your suggestion. “It’s not going to be that late,” he tried again. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could just stay at your place for the night. It’d be a shorter drive for me to the station tomorrow.”

You knew it would be and you knew he was just looking out for you, being there for you should you need him, but weirdly, that was the last thing you wanted right now. “I appreciate it, but it’s going to be a long drive and you still need to drop Cassie off. I’ll look up flights when I get home. You just focus on driving and let me know when you made it back okay.”

“Y/N—”

“Someone is calling me from a New York number. It could be important. I have to go. Drive safe, alright?”

“Darlin’, just—”

“Thank you for calling, Beau. It means a lot.” You meant that last part, you really did. You quickly disconnected the call before he could speak again. There was no call from New York, of course, and you know he knew that, but you just needed a second to think. You put your phone on silent and continued the drive to the small house you had put a down payment on when Beau had convinced you to move here to join him about a year or so before.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, feeling majorly conflicted. You wanted nothing more than one of Beau’s comforting hugs but at the same time, you didn’t want to be touched or comforted. You didn’t want anyone’s awkward condolences like Hoyt had offered you earlier after Poppernak told her you might have received some kind of bad news. You didn’t want to talk or cry or try to distract yourself from reality in any way, shape, or form. You wanted to just be.

And considering where you would be flying to in the next twenty four hours, you needed as much time to process and compartmentalize as you could get.

There was no processing or compartmentalizing happening. Your brain was a chaotic mess at best. Your thoughts were all over the place, same with your emotions, and yet somehow you still felt numb and in shock.

Not only did memories play on a loop inside your head but you could not form one single coherent thought. You had walked past your full sink of dishes at least four times before you remembered you were going to stack them in the dishwasher. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, preferring your usual coffee, and you had to eat something now that it was late afternoon so you could satiate the loudly rumbling hungry beast known as your stomach. You barely tasted the food or the beer you chose to wash it down with.

At some point, you had pulled out a shoebox you kept carefully hidden away in a closet and began to go through old photos you kept stashed alongside a few Christmas and birthday cards over the years. You studied your grandmother in each photo and whether it was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure which yet, you could hear her voice and even her laughter in your mind. You could hear her yelling, too, but your brain pushed those memories away, knowing you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet.

You came across one picture of the two of you. You were in high school and had just received an award. You two were standing outside of the school and neither of you were embracing or smiling too widely. One of your aunts had asked you both to take the picture, to mark the special occasion, but the truth was, you two had been arguing most of the day, practically up until the ceremony. Just one of the many arguments you both had over the years where you didn’t see eye to eye.

You dug deeper into the box until you pulled out a special group of photos in an envelope. You took a sip of beer, a deep breath, and then opened it. These were pictures of your parents, gone in a freak accident when you were barely kindergarten age. You smiled down at the photos of the two of them with a baby version of you. No matter where you were or who took the picture, all of you appeared to be happy. Sadly, you didn’t remember those times too much, the memories too hazy and existing on that fine line between reality and fantasy. You only remembered the sorrow, the pain, and the devastation their sudden absence left.

You came across a photo of you and your mother, but this time, your grandmother was also included. You must have been two years old and you were grinning widely from your mother’s lap at the older woman who smiled brightly back at you. You had even reached out your hands to her, almost as if you had been asking her to pick you up. You stared hard at the picture, almost as if trying to remember that exact moment in time so you could then remember the feeling.

Your phone ringing loudly made you jump and jerked you out of your concentration. You placed the photo down and sighed. You had put your phone back on when you arrived home a few hours ago and though he hadn’t called, Beau had sent you a few texts. It was more of him offering to come over, to be there for you, and to help with anything you needed. You had immediately swiped the notifications off of your screen; you couldn’t deal with that or anything else right now. You appreciated it but you just needed some time…some space actually. Just until you could get your head on straight.

You picked your phone up and glanced at the screen, surprised to see your cousin’s name flashing back at you.

Your brows furrowed and you immediately picked up the call. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” she greeted you though her usual cheery voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. While you didn’t keep in touch with most of your family, Lucy had been the exception. You weren’t close by any means but her texts and calls didn’t always go ignored. “Aunt Ida said she called you today to tell you about Gran. How are you holding up?”

You shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. How are you doing?” Lucy had been just as close with the grandmother you shared while growing up but she had also stayed within the family unit while you bolted. She and her husband, John, even purchased a home two blocks away from where your grandmother lived.

“Um, I’m okay,” she sighed into the phone. “It’s sad and not the way we expected but we all kind of knew it was coming.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking another sip of beer.

“I know it might sound horrible to say but it’s kind of a relief. For Gran, I mean. She’s no longer suffering. You know, after the past couple of years…”

You felt a familiar surge of guilt start up in your chest again, and a burning feeling began in the corners of your eyes. “Yeah,” you repeated. You both stayed quiet for a moment, each thinking back to Gran’s initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s more than five years ago and how it had quickly progressed, especially during the pandemic years.

Lucy finally broke the silence. “So, um, I was just wondering if you were going to be flying in tomorrow.”

Your brows mashed together again. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For the visitation the next day.”

Your head began to whirl. Perhaps it was the beer and you had misheard her. Though, you had only had two, maybe in conjunction with what you were feeling, you weren’t thinking straight. “Wait, wait. The visitation is the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Luy sounded unsure why you were asking. “And the funeral will be the next morning. That’s why I was thinking you would probably be flying in tomorrow.”

“Aunt Ida told me that she had no idea when the services would be yet but she would let me know.”

“Oh.”

You could practically hear her nerves through the phone. “Lucy,” you warned. “When were the plans finalized?”

“Um…”

“Lucy.”

“Yesterday?” She nearly squeaked out.

That hit you like a gut punch. “Yesterday? I thought Gran just died this morning!”

Now you could really hear the nervousness in Lucy’s voice. “She, um, she passed on Monday morning.”

The fury working its way through your veins felt like molten fire. “Today is Wednesday!”

Lucy knew better than to answer that. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought Aunt Ida explained when she said she spoke to you this morning. She was dealing with a lot and—”

“--couldn’t be bothered to tell me, I get it. But why didn’t you call me?” The tears building were practically burning your pupils. Your grandmother had passed away two days ago and no one could be bothered to tell you.

“I-I wanted to, Y/N. I really did but, Aunt Ida said—”

Your jaw tensed and you nearly slammed your bottle down on the floor next to you as you got to your feet, all too certain what Aunt Ida had said. While Lucy was a kinder soul than most in your biological family, she also lacked a backbone when it came to your older female relatives.

“Forget it,” you hissed, roughly wiping away tears that had escaped down your cheeks. “I’ll be arriving tomorrow. Is the obituary up or was she bullshitting me on that one, too?”

“N-No, they just posted it today. It’s actually quite nice. I think you’ll—”

“Send me the link,” you ordered before you hung up and quickly began scanning available flights as you hurried into your bedroom to begin packing.

It was late when you landed, your flight having been slightly delayed. Not that it mattered to you; if you could have delayed the flight altogether, you would have. But that wasn’t possible and neither was you staying in Helena. As angry as you were, you refused to let it keep you from doing the right thing. Plus, when you called the station earlier to tell Hoyt you wouldn’t be back until Monday, she had insisted you take the bereavement time available to you (more like ordered you) and see to your family, wishing you well. Normally, you would have put your foot down and flat out refused, content to hole up in a corner of the office and burrow yourself into work, but you knew she was right. You had to attend the services; you owed Gran that much at least.

You nodded a thanks to the cheery but tired flight attendant as she thanked you for flying with their airlines, and ambled down the bridge towards the airport. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there weren’t many people milling about and you were unencumbered from making your way down the escalator towards Baggage Claim.

While waiting for the carousel to start up, your phone started vibrating. You glanced at the screen, sighing when you saw the name pop up that had been popping up on and off all day.

You immediately rejected the call and slipped your phone back into silent mode. But before you could hit the button, a text snuck its way through to display on your screen.

You felt bad reading the message previews and you certainly weren’t trying to ignore your best friend but you just needed some time to process all of this on your own. You had sent him one quick text earlier telling him not to come by since you wouldn’t be home. You also told him you would call him as soon as you were able. Apparently, he was ignoring that last text going by his several attempts to make contact. You weren’t trying to stonewall him, you really weren’t, but you had to go into this with a clear head. Or as clear a head as you could have in these circumstances. Wasn’t that something he always said before you two went into anything dangerous on the job?

Speaking of the job, it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen your fair share of death, mostly in ghoulish evil ways that people had come up with in order to hurt each other, and it’s not that your grandmother’s passing wasn’t expected to happen at some point like Lucy had said. But you hadn’t been prepared for how you would feel when it did and you certainly hadn’t been prepared for it to happen now.

Conflicting emotions roiled in your head and churned in your stomach. Your empty stomach from that all-too familiar discomfort you’d gotten frequently during your career. The lunch you’d eaten earlier had made a reappearance after Lucy’s phone call. You would have to get some food and soon, but where you would get that at this late hour except a greasy diner, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that it mattered, either. The very thought of food made an altogether different unpleasant sensation roll in your stomach. Emptiness versus nausea…fun.

Eventually, your other suitcase made its way to you and you quickly scooped it up. You ordered a Lyft, scoffing when you noticed the wait time was a half hour, possibly more, for a pickup. How was that even possible? This was an airport! At this rate, you’d be better off taking a cab but that was bound to be pricier than the Lyft. You heaved a great sigh and plopped down on your larger suitcase, resting your chin in your hand as you waited. Eventually, you whipped out your phone and decided to mindlessly scroll through your Instagram. You weren’t a fan of the app or any social media really but Em had made an account for you one day when you had unwisely left your phone sitting on one of Beau’s deck chairs while helping him pack Pedro for a camping trip he was taking her on. You quickly got bored of any new content on your feed, since there weren't any updates from anyone you actually cared about, and swiped over to your profile.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on your face when you saw the picture Em had taken of herself and her dad, posting it for you after she saw your Houston photo and labeled it a semi-pathetic attempt at a first post. Your eyes scanned through your meager posting and the picture of Poppernak that you had taken one day near the end of your shift reminded you why you wouldn’t be working with your beloved partner the next few days. Your smile immediately disappeared and you clicked out of the app, powered down the screen, and slipped the phone into your jacket pocket.

Luckily, only a little while later, your Lyft finally arrived. After loading your suitcases into the back with the driver’s help, you were on your way to the only hotel in town. You stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Your driver, Antonio, had tried to make small talk but thankfully begged off when he noticed you weren’t too talkative, most likely chalking it up to the late flight and you being tired. Familiar landmarks came into view as he turned onto another street and memories started to flood your mind. You shut your eyes, as if to keep them out, and it miraculously held them at bay a little longer. You then settled your gaze on the back of the driver seat, refusing to look out the windows until you arrived at your destination.

You’d have time enough to wallow in memories and regret the next few days. No reason to rush it.

As soon as you checked into your hotel room, you immediately jumped in the shower. It always made you feel better after traveling and the flight had felt excruciatingly long this go around. That could have had something to do with you coming from Montana, though. The few flights you’d taken from Texas back in the day had definitely been shorter.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, your damp hair spilling down your back, and started going through one of your suitcases to find body lotion. Once you found the bottle, before you could begin lathering it up in your hands, your phone vibrated on your night stand.

You heaved a sigh and glanced over, seeing you had another missed call from Beau, and yet another text.

You nearly rolled your eyes, knowing he would make good on this threat if you didn’t check in with him at least once before you went to sleep. And that was the last thing you needed right now.

You slipped in your earbuds, hit his name, then the phone icon, and switched it over to bluetooth as you began to moisturize your skin. He answered it in two rings.

“Hey,” he gruffed out before clearing his throat. “About time you called me back.”

You ignored how hearing his voice immediately made your chest feel that little bit lighter and your shoulders release some of the tension you’d been carrying around the past day. “Yeah, well, when someone threatened to put a BOLO on my ass, I responded real quick. That’s all I need, this town’s cops pounding on my door, in addition to everything else.” You had meant it to come out teasingly but your voice had betrayed your aggravation. You regretted it the moment the words were out of your mouth. You knew Beau was just worried about you, that he cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. In all fairness, you could have at least sent him a text to let him know you landed but you were tired and didn’t feel like talking. He would have understood. He wasn’t the asshole in this scenario; you were.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered gently and you could hear the genuine remorse in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time but damn, Y/N, not one single text to let me know you’re still alive?”

You flinched at the last word and started applying the lotion more aggressively. You were eager to be done with this call, with everything, so you could crash and finally get some much needed shut-eye. You hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours, probably stress from the job (it happened sometimes), and you were feeling it.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.” More remorse.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, popping the cap on the bottle closed and placing it on the nightstand. “Well, now that you know that I’m fine, no BOLO’s are necessary.”

“Y/N, I didn’t—”

You knew you didn’t really have a right to be angry with him but you also didn’t have the bandwidth for dealing with anyone or anything right now. You appreciated his concern and him checking on you, but all you wanted to do was hit the sack and evade consciousness for a few hours. “Listen, it’s super late, I just got in because it was a late flight and delayed at that. I’m exhausted. So if we could…” You left it open-ended, hoping he’d just take the hint and say goodnight.

You heard some rustling on the other end and you realized he must have been in bed already when you called. You quickly glanced at the alarm clock and thought over the time difference. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet back in Helena and Beau was already going to sleep for the night? That was odd. Then again, he was now a deputy sheriff down and Hoyt would need the backup in case something came up. Plus, you knew he had cut his vacation short to rush back to Helena. He was probably just as exhausted as you were, possibly more so. “Y/N… You’re not shutting down on me, are you?”

You practically did a double take at the question. “What? No! I’m not. What, I’m tired and want to go to sleep after the long day I’ve had and that’s suddenly me shutting down on you? Seriously? All because I didn’t answer a few texts or pick up one of your many phone calls?” You had no idea why but that question majorly pissed you off. The logical part of you knew you were overreacting to a genuinely concerned question from your best friend but your temper seemed to be off to the races; you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I get that you’re a grade A worry-er and everything but I’m not some goddamn child you need to check up on every ten minutes for Christ’s sake!” In your rush of anger, you hadn’t even realized just how much your voice had raised. Not until there was a deafening silence in the room and on the other end once you finished your little tirade.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you were, darlin’,” he spoke calmly.

“Don’t you darlin’ me. Don’t you dare patronize me with that shit, Arlen. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” Your chest felt immediately tight again and tension filled your body once more. You huffed out an angry breath and decided the best thing for you to do in this situation was to end the call as soon as possible. “Look, you wanted to know I’m still alive, now you know. I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me and texting me all the time while I’m here and threatening me when you don’t hear back from me right away. That’s the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else,” you snapped.

Beau remained quiet but you could still hear his breathing on the other end so you knew he was listening to your ranting.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I appreciate the check in but it’s unnecessary. When the services are over and I’m going to head back, I’ll let you know.”

Still nothing.

“Good night, Beau.” You hung up and angrily tossed your phone onto the bed with your earbuds before heading back to the bathroom so you could blow dry your hair.

You thought over the entire conversation. You felt slightly bad that you had lost your temper with him when he was just making sure you were okay but God, you didn’t need that right now. What you needed was to get through the next few days so you could return to your life, your normal routine, as fast as possible. The best way you could do that was to keep going, not allowing yourself time to think, and get this done.

A twinge of guilt surged in your chest when you had that thought. You hadn’t meant anything disrespectful towards your grandmother or to insinuate that you didn’t care that she had died when you were thinking that. It was just…things were already going to be difficult, if your Aunt Ida’s attitude on the phone had been any indication as well as her behavior so far. If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s call earlier and the obituary link she texted you, you wouldn’t have even known when the services were going to be so you could grab the first flight out. Yes, things were bound to be difficult and tense until this was over.

You unplugged your hair dryer in a huff and finished getting ready to go to sleep. Beau just needed to give you space. Your life in Montana had nothing to do with anyone or anything here and you were determined to keep it that way. Texas never did despite your few trips back over the years; Big Sky Country wasn’t going to either.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at the text message notification on your screen when you lit up your phone.

You felt that twinge of guilt again but this time in your heart. Beau hadn’t deserved what you had unleashed on him before. He was a good man and he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself as you hurriedly dressed for bed and snuggled under the sheets. You stared at your screen, your thumb hovering over his name, the desire strong within you to call him and apologize. You yearned to hear his voice one more time, even if it was just him talking and you listening, him giving you hell for the things you had said in anger earlier. Hell, you almost wished he was here with you so you could fold yourself into his arms and burrow into his chest, letting his Texan drawl wash over your ear as he assured you everything would be alright. And you could stay there as long as you wanted, safe and comforted, not having to face the world or how it had changed so drastically for you with one phone call.

After a minute of indecision, you decided to let things be, get some rest, and then call him tomorrow to apologize when you were a little more clear-headed. And God, you hoped you would be more clear-headed. You powered down your screen and turned the light off, getting into a more comfortable position. You closed your eyes and tried to let the silence settle over you to start lulling you into sleep.

A few minutes passed by of you unsuccessfully getting your mind to stop racing, constantly replaying your phone call with Beau, the phone call from your aunt, what Lucy’s call revealed (though you shouldn’t have been surprised), what you would be facing come tomorrow, and everything that entailed. Almost as if it was a track on repeat. Finally, you let out a loud huff and reached for the TV remote, turning the television on. You channel surfed until you landed on a rerun of The Golden Girls. You tried to get into the episode; the series was an old favorite that you loved. But when you saw Sophia talking to her granddaughter, you winced and decided that the show wasn’t for you right now. You continued to click through channels until you found an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. The minute Marie walked through the youngest Barone’s household, giving her daughter-in-law a glare, you let out another wince. You finally settled on The Weather Channel and stared at the screen while the woman talked about the highs and lows expected for the next week in the area. You noticed that rain showers were being forecast for the day of the burial. How apt. And just like that, you knew your brain wasn't going to let you get any rest.

You sighed and tossed the remote away from you and rubbed your hands down your tired face. So much for sleeping.

The next day, you arrived at a familiar red-colored house with white trim, stepping up onto the old wooden porch. You could already hear a low buzz coming from inside as voices batted back and forth in conversation mixed with the sounds of young children running around and playing. One voice stuck out to you from all the rest and it made you tense up. A part of you wanted to turn around and retreat back to your hotel room.

You briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. You were not going to avoid this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You could do this. You would do this. You were an adult now, you had your own life, and you were a deputy sheriff for Christ’s sake. You dealt with dead bodies, assaults, and much scarier criminals every single day. You refused to turn around and leave with your head hanging down.

As if to ensure you wouldn’t be able to leave, without your permission, your hand lifted and gave two confident raps on the front door. You could hear the chatter pause long enough that you knew they had heard the sounds. You straightened up and squared your shoulders, making sure you were holding your head high just like you did during work hours. It was a silly fleeting thought but you almost wished you were wearing your badge on your belt, having it near as some layer of invisible protection.

Before you could scoff internally at yourself, the door yanked open and there stood the older woman you hadn’t wanted to deal with. You hadn’t seen her in years and while her sandy hair was mixed with more gray and her face sported a few more lines resulting in an even harsher scowl than you remembered, the dark eyes full of contempt whenever they focused on you remained the same.

You didn’t smile, tear up, or surge forward for a hug, and neither did she. “Aunt Ida,” you greeted.

“Y/N,” she replied icily. “So you decided to show up for the services after all?”

You could feel your teeth set on edge but you schooled your features. You weren’t going to let her little digs get at you and you would be damned to let her see it if they somehow did. You weren’t fourteen anymore. “I did. Mind if I come in?”

Her beady eyes gave you a once over and she practically sneered before stepping back and opening the door a little wider. Not exactly a warm invitation but an invitation nonetheless. You gave her a nod and took it, ignoring the tiny snort of derision she let out as you did.

You sat uncomfortably on the old couch that you had hated as a kid. Aunt Ida had insisted this couch was for entertaining, not for young children to watch television on or jump on or do anything on really. The seat was practically as rigid as your aunt.

You silently wondered what Beau was up to now as a temporary means of mentally escaping this situation. You had tried to call him before you came over here but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt and a little let down that you hadn’t been able to speak with him. He had told you to call him anytime, that he was there for you despite the harsh words you had launched at him the previous night, but the one time you actually tried to reach out, he hadn’t been available. You hadn’t been prepared for the beep of the voicemail, signaling you to talk, and you ended up leaving him the most awkward message you had ever left someone. “Hey. It’s me. …I’m sorry. Call me back when you get this, okay? Or if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll understand, but…it would be really nice to hear your voice. Well…you know what I mean. Anyway, just call me back…if you want.” That had been four hours ago. And granted, he was three hours behind you now, but you knew he would already be up, getting ready for the day. So why was his phone off?

You had chastised yourself out loud after hanging up the phone, telling yourself that he was probably in the middle of something for a case that he got called in on overnight and couldn’t be disturbed. How many times did you have to do the same? You had scowled at yourself in the bathroom mirror while putting the finishing touches on your foundation. “What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? You need to get a fucking grip.” In perhaps an immature move that you were glad no one else was around to witness, you stuck your tongue out at yourself and shook your head, muttering “Stop being such an asshole already”, and walked out the door.

And now you were here, in the house you didn’t really want to be in, surrounded by people that you didn’t really want to be around. Well, perhaps that last thought was harsh. There was really only one person you didn’t really want to see and she had been the one to let you in the door.

You quickly glanced around the room you were in, noting not much had changed since you had been here last, when you had left this town in your rearview mirror and didn’t look back. Even the scent you hated as a child was still the same: a mix of old lady perfume and stale cookies. You could feel nausea starting up in your stomach but thankfully you hadn’t eaten anything before you came here.

Your Uncle Mason, who sat on your right, gave you a tight smile when he noticed you surveying the room.

“Still looks the same, huh?” He offered.

“Exactly the same,” you agreed without looking at him.

Your cousin, Lucy, sat in the stiff armchair on your left and looked around as well, smiling. “I like that it hasn’t changed since we were kids. A lot of good memories happened here.”

Your gaze dropped to the oak coffee table that still had the scratch in it from when you were a child and didn’t know any better. That was one of your countless infractions your aunt had held against you. “Yeah, good memories,” you muttered. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mason tense a little and Lucy fidgeting nervously.

You all heard Aunt Ida finish up her conversation and hang up the old handset before she made her way into the room. “That was the funeral home. There was an issue with the plot next to Dad but it’s been resolved.”

“What kind of issue?” Uncle Mason asked.

“Payment,” Aunt Ida spat out as she sat down before turning a fresh glare on you. “I hope you’re not here thinking there’s any money waiting for you and that’s why you decided to show up.”

You nearly ground your teeth together but forced yourself to remain calm. “Of course not. I’m here for Gran.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Only took her dying, right?”

Lucy struggled to her feet, her round belly acting as an obstacle, but she managed. “You know, I don’t hear the kids anymore. I’m going to go check on them and be right back.” She then hurried out of the room; if she could have run, you bet she would be sprinting towards the backyard her kids had been urged out into when you had arrived. You couldn’t blame her. You would be, too.

“Ida,” Mason attempted to admonish his sister. “Now is not the time.”

“Then when is it?” She snapped, making Mason shrink back, before she turned her scowl back onto you. “Why else would you show up? It’s not like you came when she needed help, when we all needed help with her. You didn’t visit her once while she was in the nursing home. Not once when she was in the hospital.”

Your jaw tensed and you felt the familiar twinge of guilt deep within. “You told me not to come, Aunt Ida,” you reminded her.

She barked out a laugh. “Is that how you heard it?”

“That’s how I heard it because that’s exactly how you said it.” You didn’t look away when she was slightly taken aback by your reply. You refused to back down from this one. You reminded yourself that you were no longer a child; you were a grown woman who didn’t have to take her shit anymore. You were no longer dependent on her or anyone else in this family for anything though when you were, she had only been too happy to make you feel like crap for it every single day of your existence.

The woman shook her head, laughing at you. “Right. You’re some big shot cop now, right? Too good for us lowly citizens.” She smirked over at Mason in collusion, though her brother was shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. That angered her further and the glare she settled on you was worse than before. “It’s obvious why you’re really here. Like I said, there’s no money for you. Anything she had left went to the payments for the nursing home and her funeral. And what she had left was pretty much nothing. So if you came here expecting a payout from her will, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

You lifted your chin slightly higher in defiance of her accusations. “And like I said, Aunt Ida, I didn’t come here for anything other than to pay my respects to Gran, and to help where I can.” Your voice softened a little at the thought of your grandmother. “She would have wanted that.”

The other woman scoffed once more but didn’t say more due to the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll get it,” Mason hurried to offer and then nearly rushed from the room, leaving you and Ida in one hell of a glaring contest.

“I’m only trying to do right by Gran,” you assured her.

“Too little, too late,” she hissed.

You unclenched your jaw and took a quiet breath. “Yeah,” you reluctantly agreed. “Suppose you’re right.” Right then and there you decided that once you were back in Montana, you would sever all ties, this time permanently. You owed nothing to this woman or to any of them, regardless of any blood you shared. The one person you might have owed something to once upon a time was no longer alive. If anything, you were being quickly reminded why you had left this house all those years ago and hadn’t come back.

Ida harrumphed and continued to shake her head.

You were about to stand and leave, having had more than enough in this one little exchange with your aunt, and tell her to call you if she or anyone needed anything before the wake, when Mason returned and a familiar figure filled the entryway to the room. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

There stood the very man you had been trying to get a hold of earlier, giving you one of his warm smiles. You could see slight rings of shadow underneath his eyes that were similar to yours that you had been sporting this morning before using concealer. Exhaustion lined his face but so did relief. His green eyes that were centered on you softened slightly and in that moment, you knew everything that had happened the night before had been forgiven. He was here, for you.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move when you hurried over to him, Mason barely able to get out of your way before you launched yourself at Beau who immediately wrapped his arms around you, practically picking you up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep any tears from coming out and burrowed into his neck, happy to breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. No one said anything and for that you were grateful. You didn’t want anything to shatter the one good moment you’d had in the past two days.

Eventually, when you felt like you wouldn’t break down in tears and you had yourself under pretty good control, you choked out in a whisper, “You’re here.”

“Damn right I am, darlin’,” he confirmed into your ear, making you smile as you heard that Texan drawl you loved so much. The tension in his body relaxed though his hold on you did not. You felt him press a kiss to your hair before hugging you even tighter. “I’m here.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 👉👈

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen #beau arlen fanfiction #big sky fandom #i need your hand but i don't want to burn it part 1

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bakageta · 9 months

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I think I'm gonna post Blue Beetle stuff here first and not worry about things like editing and coming up with a summary and thinking up a title. I'm running off vibes right now and don't wanna wait.

This is totally inspired by @wazzappp's anatomy post. I already wanted to do something about why it took (relatively) longer for Jaime's back to heal and that post just gave me more to write about. I wanna write more too! So throw body horror ideas at me plz!!!!

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After the wake and the funeral and the burial and the mourning, after everything calmed down and everyone had a chance to breathe, Jaime looked at the scarab on his back again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d showered since everything, of course, but it was the first time he’d been able to focus on his thoughts instead of quietly disassociating until he was clean. Now he was appreciating the amenities in the hotel suite Jenny’d set the Reyes family up in while their home was repaired. There was a rainfall shower head. The toilet had an actual bidet that had sprayed Rudy’s ass the first time he’d taken a shit.

As always Khaji was ticking away in the back of his head, reassuringly present in a way Jaime didn’t want to look too closely at yet. It didn’t say anything though.

“Soap won’t bother you, right?” He hadn’t scrubbed himself down in a week or so. Partly because he’d been busy and then distracted, but also because just the shampoo running down his back during the first shower after it all had burned at the raw edges between his skin and Khaji Da.

Correct. We are fully healed now.

“Bien.” He squeezed the last of the sample sized hotel soap onto a washcloth and reached over his shoulder to start scrubbing. The scarab between his shoulder blades is anchored firmly, he can feel its legs under his muscles.

That wasn’t a surprise. Jaime had felt every moment of Khaji burrowing up his spine and digging a home in his back. What was new was the strange… straps? the straps crossed above his shoulders and under his arms beneath his skin. They came from the scarab, where its front and back legs would be like, like it was some kind of awful fucking backpack.

“Khaji?” Jaime dropped the washcloth and shifted so he was able to trace up his spine. The three knots of alien tissue that Khaji had left like breadcrumbs also had straps running below his skin. Bending forward, Jaime realized he was able to feel where the straps anchored and the dips in his back where nothing had changed. “What am I feeling Khaji?”

The anchors for my carapace and sensory nodes. It hesitated, something it had only started doing after, as it started to learn when and when not to elaborate. They secure me and reduce the risk of damage or dislodgement. The growth of new tissue is why your back took so long to heal. Our efforts were split: your body prioritized your epidermis and my systems prioritized my security.

Sure. That made sense. Self preservation was a thing for alien symbiotes. The odd tug Jaime’d felt moving around was the growth of Khaji’s anchors and not muscle soreness like he’d assumed. Or maybe Khaji’s anchors counted as muscles. Wonderful. It also answered a question he’d never thought to ask: why his back had looked so bad for so long while cuts and scrapes healed in minutes. Great.

The hotel probably didn’t let guests on the roof.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t get there.

Jaime waited until after his shower, after Millagro took over the bathroom, after he hugged Mama and Nana, and after he swore up and down to Rudy that he wasn’t gonna fly off, to go to the roof. He made his way up the stairs, shorted out the electronic lock with a subtle lick of blue energy, and laid down on the flat gravel and tar paper roof. Like this he could feel Khaji and its nodes digging into his back alongside larger chunks of stone, foreign objects embedded in his body.

The sky was clear, but this close to Palmera, the stars might as well be invisible except for the most bright. Still enough to ground Jaime, to make him feel a part of life when everything was too much. A jet flew overhead, beacon flashing against the night. Jaime wondered if it was coming or going.

Flight DL1332 is on approach to Palmera International, Khaji intoned.

“Huh. How d’you figure?” Jaime folded his hands behind his head to cushion it.

After a moment the itching growth of the blue beetle’s carapace spread across the backs of his hands and arms. It stopped short of the full thickness armor Khaji was capable of, only forming the tough black underlayer.

They are communicating using radio frequencies. It is not difficult to interpret.

“Cool.”

Would you like to listen?

Jaime sighed. “Sure.”

Static faded into Jaime’s ears, interrupted regularly by steady trailing voices. It was calming. Like listening to another language, even though the pilots and controllers were still speaking English.

#my writing #the doc title is Operation pimp my ride #Operation pimp my ride #Jaime: if I ignore it everything will be fine #Khaji: I am helping and also doing a good job #but srs plz reply or reblog or ask me ideas for this kinda thing #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #khaji da

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brainr0t-landfill · 3 months

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🌃 Mercurial

ghoap x male reader

Chapter Four: Nausea

"I will poison all your happy times, I will love you like the ashes in my cigarette box."

-The Crane Wives, Tounges and Teeth

(money insecurity, unhealthy relationship, implied homelessness, anxiety)

The on the road life is better suited for you, you feel more secure with the peeling, old wallpapers of whichever hotel you end up in than the walls you had painted with Johnny the beds reeking of mildew feel more familiar than the wide warm one you used to share with them.

Faces forgotten before you can commit them to memory, places gone with nothing to mourn them by, nightly vigels to the best thing that ever happened to you spent anxiously looking out foggy windows for any silhoutte resembling theirs, listening for uniform footsteps louder than an earthquacke and as familiar as the little compartment you've sewn in your backpack, containing a new ID, fake passoport ,ever-changing burner phones and your unstable money supply.

You're in your element when no one knows you, when people don't commit your face to memory, when they're ingenuine and changing. it's familiar and homey when you know every escape route and every card in the deck, it's not so familiar too with the ever present threat of being found breathing down your neck, you know too well how attached they are and how many strings they have to pull, you've seen it firsthand.

Even then you can't blame them, they fell for someone they thought was good and from this distance it's easier then ever to paint yourself as the villan, the one who stirred the water when all was well, pushed buttons he knew he shouldn't have pushed, tested boundaries that had been set in stone when they were finnaly comfortable, when all was finnaly well.

It started out small, just a way to relieve your tension, just a way to adjust and get some breathing room;

It was the small ritualistic details you started neglecting at first, not stocking the pantry, keeping the house messy before they came home from deployments, not kissing them goodnight or goodbye. They didn't get mad, they didn't even notice, John stepped up readily when you neglected the house and Simon happily went out for groceries whenever you 'forgot', and that set you off worst. The little things you'd built your life, your place in the relationship around where unimportant to them, just something someone else could do without much fuss.

Then it was keeping the door unlocked on the night you knew they'd be coming home, sleeping on the couch by yourself with the excuse of 'feeling smothered', going out and not telling them whene you were going or when you'd be back knowing you were leaving then anxious and frazzled worried for your safety and nothing else, they were good, too good for somone like you. So good that Simon sat you down and explained that he understood you needed some space and that them being gone one day and then then being so present and loud could be hard to get used to.

"Me 'n Johnny just want ya safe angel."

Simon and that understanding smile on his face, always considerate and understanding to the people he loved like a wise parent lecturing a misbehaving yet well meaning child. You spat in the face of that.

"You both are overreacting Si, I know y'all got this skewed view of the world because the military n shit but I'm an adult, I don't need bodyguards."

His face fell, John turned around momentarily to check on the conversation.

"It's not like that, 'n you should know by now. We love you, we want you safe, you're the one with the skewed view and if you keep this bullshit up there's gonna be reprucussions-"

"Simon."

John cut in walking over to the kitchen table and giving him a look, Simon deflated running a hand over his face and you felt the familiar pain of being a disappointment, of misguiding and upsetting. It was wose when you know you love them and do it anyway knowing the things they'd been through.

"Sorry.."

You mumble, his dark eyes soft as they met yours. His bare hands clasped on his lap, he's rubbing his own knuckles.

"Jus' - jus' be safe yeah? Take care o' yourself when we can't, keep our heads clear? For us, angel."

You nodded knowing full well that despite your guilt you had found a nerve and you weren't the good person you had cruelly convinced them you were. You revealed in uncertainties and tension, you hadn't been anywhere this long since your teenage years when you got kicked out. You weren't deserving of this care, this love so you were doing the right thing driving them away or perhaps you just liked being cared for in such avident and raw way either way you were dead weight at best and a parasite at worst.

The tension rose when you kept doing it, John was the first to snap when you introduced them as your friends to some work acquaintances. He broke down, screamed raw and bloody, punched a wall and pulled out his hair as Simon desperately tried to play mediator.

"How could ye?! How fucking could ye, you ungrateful, lying cunt!"

John screamed as you stood leaning against the wall his knuckles were still kissed white and bleeding from the hole they had left in the drywall. His aquamarine eyes squinted and wet, his breaths quick and shallow like a wounded bird.

"We live together! We sleep in the same god damn bed, that's my sweater on ye back, 'n ye sit there and call us your mates?! Yer buddies?! I swear to fucking god ye better have brain damage or I wi-"

Simon grabbed him by the shoulders before he could go on any further. You understood why he was mad, he had opened his heart out to someone he had trusted for so long not knowing he was a snake in the grass, he wanted his love, his safe space, his importance in your life validated especially after all the anxiety you had put them both through with your planned recklessness.

And you broke, in retrospect it could have been so much better if you hadn't, maybe then you'd have some resentfull exs instead of this manhunt with every card stacked against you.

You sobbed, apologized over and over again, promised you'd be better, promised you'd behave, you loved them, you really loved them, the pain in Johnny's voice was unlike anything you'd seen and you meant it too. You didn't wanna be stranded and drifting again, by yourself in the world.

"Ye know we won't ever let ye go angel, promise."

You broke your promises time and time again, they snapped and you broke, but guilt wasn't enough to scratch this constant itch under your skin. Waiting, salivating for when they finnaly got fed up with you like everyone else, it enraged you when they didn't.

Shit hit the fan when you spent two nights at a friend's house and kept your phone on silent, came home with her perfume spritzed on your neck, then you ended up in the cabin and realized some bonds had to be severed phisicaly.

So here you are now, in the roadie lifestyle you're used to, overgrown beard and bloodshot eyes, feet bloody and swollen in your shoes, always cold, always tired, never quite clean. Walking home with a measly paycheck in your pocket and TV dinner in a shopping bag, you're always tense, always on edge knowing full well they've most likely moved on, hopefully.

Life on the road isn't as secure as it used to be, not when their love made you soft and comfortable.

You miss warm beds, you miss a stable job and your warm clean home but most importantly you miss them, you miss them like an amputated limb, like you can reach out and feel the muscles hanging loose, the veins burst and drooling where you hacked them off; it's easier to deal with when you remind yourself people like you don't deserve things like that.

You're just outside your hotel rooms door when some primal, animal instinct straightens your spine, something isn't right.

You look inside from the windows check inside, your measly possessions are all where they ought to be, just when you're about to close to door you see them.

Footsteps, on the snow, big, bigger than yours and deep, pure snow filthied by mud somone tried to cover them up but they're still there.

You can't tell if they're combat boots that John favoured or the hiking shoes Simon sweared by but it sets you off anyways, primal fear and anxiety, restlessness churning in your gut as you pack all of your belongings.

Same game, new rules.

<< Next Chapter / Next Chapter >>

#ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #cod x male reader #mercurial #cod x reader #john mactavish x male reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x male reader #simon x reader x johnny #tw poverty #tw implied abuse #tw violence

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factual-fantasy · 6 months

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26 askss!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@milk-powrit

XD actually, Bibi never minded being the shortest. Because Jangles and I never made fun of him for it. But he's probably happy that there's now 2 people short enough to give him proper hugs 🥺

And to be honest, I haven't thought too much out about character facts :0 other than Cici is a smarty pants and can be a lil sassy at times XD But in a harmless/charming way.

Also oh yeah, Gerald loves puns. XDD Although he hasn't had any cake before.. so idk what his favorite could be. What ever is the funniest flavor I suppose XDD

@luckyglasses

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Happy holidays!! :}}

@deadly-skeleton123

Oh you're new to Tumblr? Ahhh word of advice then- If I may? It might be a good idea to change your profile picture. Tumblr has a big bot problem. And a lot of the bots have default profile pictures just like yours. A lot of people might see your account in their feed and just block/report on sight. Not fun.. also I suggest you do the same though, if someone with default profile picture, banner, no bio, no posts follows you... that's probaaaaably a bot and should be blocked--

ANYWAYS! So for the Captain Barnacles/Crab comic. I don't plan on finishing it. And the reason why I abandoned it was because the way I had written the comic had everyone acting out of character. The blood was over the top, it was too dramatic,, ugh.. I got tired of my own comic half way through making it. <XD

The comic was gonna end with the rest of the crew showing up, they take the Captain to the octopod, and Peso cries because "I was too scared to help the Captain.." Which is just stupid <XD

Peso would not cower in fear in this situation. Even if Captain Barnacles turned like that and became very scary. Peso has had an extended history of getting it together and braving through anything to help creatures in need. And if his own Captain/friend was hurt? Nothing would stop him. Nothing could scare him away.

In the perfect re-write, Peso would ace this situation. He would approach Barnacles perfectly and calm him down. He would patch the wound, guide him to the gups. Guide him into the octopod and into the med-bay. Expertly deal with the wound and clean up all the blood.

Sure maybe after everything was done he would cry a bit out of the stress of it all. But originally everyone else did everything for Peso because he was too scared to help the scARy CapTAIN OOOO!!

Nah, that dumb. Peso is way stronger than that. #justiceforpeso

I made one yeeeaaarrs ago when I was into Sonic. But it centered around a Sonic OC of mine. <XD I don't tend to do much insert OC stuff anymore..

I imagine Bonnie would just sigh and try to get through it on his own. And not go to Foxy for help.. Worse case scenario he gets overwhelmed and shuts down on stage and ruins the show. Which is fine by him. He'd think, "Serves them right for puttin me on that stage. Faz-bear entertainment deserves to have their show flop for how they've treated me.. for how they've treated us."

XDD Hey! That's Veggietales isn't it?

@elegysonnet

XD That's what I was thinkin! That, and they were basically fully fleshed out characters but their bodies just didn't exist yet. Since their future existence was so set in stone Jangles was able to connect to their minds..?? XD I guess??

Thank you so much!! :DD Also CAPTAIN BARNACALES FTWWW!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@taizarack

XD New friend indeed! Cici is technically an old friend, she's existed longer than Jangles and Gerald! XD

@manybrokenquills

JOKES ON YOU I'M ALL OF THOSE THINGS XDD

Also thank you! I'm glad you've stuck around and like what you see! :DDD

@wildwitchofthewest

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDDD

@smallangryartist

1: AAAA I'm glad it fooled you! When I drew it in I knew that anyone with a different Tumblr theme wouldn't be fooled.. but I'm glad I got at least 2 people! XDD

2: Also aww.. even if they were happy tears, sorry for making you cry! <XD

ALSO WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Also also don't worry, I'm taking a nap and drinking water at the same time as we speak! XD

(Also also also that heart shattering might come sooner than you think..👀)

Nahh, my gnome is built different. All he needs to thrive is a steady supply of pepperoni pizza and a very large 3 inch deep puddle XD

@beryl-shade

Maybe! :0 At the very least I imagine they'd get along. My Seam is soft spoken, polite, mellow.. he's probably a nice person to share a cup of tea with! :}

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

@coolkoaladeer @thesweetishfish

@boringa55binch

Its hard to say, I didn't ever like.. try to replicate an art style and draw something unrelated. Like- if I was drawing in the gravity falls art style, I was drawing gravity falls stuff. I wouldn't draw in the gravity falls art style and draw random ocs and stuff. If that makes sense-

But maybe one style was easier to draw hands in than another. So I.. might have adopted some stuff..?? I guess??

I guess that would mean my art style developed off of the different franchises I made fanart from? If that's the case it was likely Gravity Falls, Sonic x, and Steven Universe..? Mostly?? XD Sorry this answer is all over the place-

Many actually! Its just unfortunate because all of them are giant comic ideas but I'm too wiped out from my 20k celebration to really draw any of themmmm... 😩sighhhh

@funtimespringscare101

XDDD I'm glad you like them! And I can imagine that they might be shy to hug new people- but Gerald probably wouldn't mind! XD

@ayoshivader

Since that statement I have re-written the timeline.. So who's to say any of that still stuck and what her motives were/are now..? 👀

<XD I've never played the paper mario games so that's why I've never drawn them.. it sounds really cute though! :D

Taking the quilt off does nothing, the quilt doesn't bring them to life either! Remember that Bibi could talk when he was a still picture and was brought to "life" without the use of a quilt or even any glowy effects. Also Jangles had a quilt as a drawing and was "brought to life" using a pen!

The point I'm getting at is, Pen? Quilt? It doesn't matter. None of these methods actually give the characters life. I do. All these fancy ways I seem to bring them to life are just for show <XD

@housome

XD The first thing that came to mind was Freddy telling Fredbear about Gregory.

Freddy: "I'm keeping a child hidden in the basement.."

Fredbear: "...you're keeping a CHILD in the BASEMENT??"

Freddy: "LISTEN ITS TO PROTECT HIM--"

Also thank you! :DD

Naahhh he'll be fine 😉

And yay! Cici and Gerald!!! XDD

To put it simply, fanart makes me feel bad. And Comments make me feel good. So I prefer comments to fanart. 👌

To complicate it a bit, when I post artwork I'm just sitting there all giddy waiting for the first "AKSJKASAU WAAAAA 😭😭😭" comment to pop up. When I get fanart I immediately get frustrated and uncomfortable. Fanart feels like stealing and usually invokes a negative reaction from me. So if people want to show their appreciation for my work, leaving comments is 100% more effective and preferred. 👍

Also thank you! :DD

@scp-16217

XD These are great match ups!

#my response #factual fam #fnaf security breach #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #the amazing digital circus

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joenotexotic99 · 9 months

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How they are when you have a hangover.

A/n I want to thank you all for the support. It's helps me a lot and I appreciate it so much. Thank you <3

Warnings: fluffff, vomit (nothing wild but just to put it out there) drinking themes, some language.

Masterlist

Eugene roe

-when you came home from drinking he knew from your slurred speech and your extra flirty behavior that you were going to have a nasty hangover. He made you drink lots of water before you went to bed as well as some pain killers and toast in hopes of an easier morning. Yet you woke up with a nasty migraine and nauseous. He's there with you as you slowly get through it. Blocking out the light and helping you rehydrate yourself. Making sure you take another dose of pain medication when its time.

"You don't have to do this you know"

"Yes I do, drink up"

Dick winters

- will get you anything you might need. No second thoughts. Holds back your hair when you are over the toilet. He makes sure you are back safely in bed with a glass of water. He then makes his way to the store getting everything and anything. Pain medication, cold patches for your head, electrolytes, comfort meals, favorite snacks. He makes sure you rest and feel taken care of. So sweet omg.

"I know this sucks but it will be over shortly ok sweetheart"

Bull Randleman

-he's been around the block once or twice. He's not afraid to help. You don't make it to the toilet at one point he goes to clean up without protest. You try to stop him. Making a point on how gross your situation is. He just chuckles and continues. You want to be stubborn with this but you hurt everywhere so you sorta just let him. If you ever feel good enough I feel like he would take you out to breakfast to eat a good warm meel.

"I am the grossest human on the planet right now. You have no need to be here right now"

"I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear that"

Lewis nixon

-lets be honest here, he's hungover too. This is definitely not your first time around. You too are like matches and gasoline. As soon as alcohol comes around, having a hangover is set in stone. You might even have to just sit in nature if it gets bad. you know? He will do his very best though don't worry. He knows very well how to treat hangovers. He has it down to a t. Will pass his wisdom to you. By the end of the day it was like you never drank.

"Holy shit nix I love you"

"I love me to"

"Shut up"

Babe heffron

-He isn't as experienced as the rest of easy company but that doesn't mean he hasn't had a hangover before. He doesn't have the "wisdom" of Lewis but you bet your ass he's going to try his very hardest. He knows the feeling of hangovers and he's well aware that they aren't fun. Will pull your hair back and put a cool rag on your head. Help you relax in the shower when you don't feel as much as a sack of dehydrated shit. Cook a good breakfast and eat with you on the couch.

"Sorry i was a mess today, you shouldn't go through all this effort for me"

"You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, better start getting used to it"

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe #babe heffron #dick winters #bull randleman #lewis nixon #eugene roe x reader #dick winters x reader #bull randleman x reader #lewis nixon x reader #babe heffron x reader

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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

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She’s said the wrong thing. She doesn’t fully understand how, but she can certainly feel Astarion bristle at those words. Nettie remains unaware of their internal conversation, digging around at her table full of alchemy sets and important looking herbs. If you think that, as a reward for simply existing, the world is going to hand you kindness, you are a bigger fool than I took you for. When Nettie turns around, finally having finished her piece, she holds a thorny branch. If I must be a fool, at least I am a kind one.

summary: the tadpoles prove to have some use, and aruna proves to be a bigger fool than astarion expected when she trusts the wrong person.

wc: 4k+

warnings: continued memory loss, being poisoned? just canon-adjacent violence and such. nothing crazy.

a/n: mom can you come pick me up i think i'm projecting too much onto one of my ocs again (also experimenting with placement of the read more this time don't mind me)

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Was Aruna someone’s daughter once?

It’s the only thing she can think of after she speaks to Arabella’s parents. A young tiefling girl, currently being interrogated, her parents desperate and brimming with fury as they try to find a way to save their daughter.

Surely, Aruna was someone’s daughter once. And if she was the one in interrogation, life at risk, she’d want someone to offer to help her as well.

The druids that had been arguing with the tieflings let Aruna and Astarion through under the premise of Kagha wanting to speak with them. Which, in all honesty, doesn’t sound very promising. But Aruna is determined, mind rattling with thoughts of Arabella, someone’s daughter, and her singular goal of saving her.

“What in the Hells are they doing?” Astarion questions the center of the grove, several druids gathered around the center point that appears to be a small idol.

Aruna hadn’t even noticed the green flow of magic, had hardly heard the chanting, “Who knows?”

It’s a pathetic response. Hardly humoring him, falling terribly flat as she continues to take large steps in the direction of the stone door the druids had pointed out to them.

Was she someone’s daughter once? Did she have parents out there, just like Arabella’s, anxiously seeking her return?

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious about that?” Astarion squints after her. When she doesn’t respond, he reaches out for her, fingers wrapping around her sleeve just as she had done to him by the ox. But his touch is a bit rougher, a bit more secure. Less instinctual. “I find that incredibly hard to believe. What’s wrong?”

She blinks rapidly at that, taken back by his sincerity, “Since when do you care about something being wrong with me?”

“Since you’re leading us, specifically me, into a possible fight while seeming impossibly distracted.”

Right. He didn’t want to be led astray, walked straight into danger, when she was in this state. It was nothing more than that. And that was reasonable.

But she can’t stop picturing it; was she something small once? Something impossibly delicate?

She sort of feels delicate now, void of memories and uncertain of just who she is.

“I can’t remember if I have parents,” she admits all in one breath, uncomfortably aware of both his eyes on her and his hand that had yet to leave her arm, “I can’t remember if I had a childhood.”

“That’s all?” he scoffs, hand finally dropping, “You’re worried about if you had a childhood after agreeing to free some foolish tiefling girl?”

His words are hard, but she can still see right through his mask – her words have given him something to think about as well. A kindred emotion, a flash of something lost, sparking behind his eyes for only a moment.

“Yes, that is all. You seem to forget while you all have your own personal journeys and motivations that I can as well.”

She doesn’t know herself. All she knows is this, whatever this journey of their group had become. All she knows is the tadpole, the beach, her companions. She just recently learned about her magic while it’s clear the rest of them have an entire artillery of memories in which they’ve perfected their crafts.

Of course Astarion is better with his daggers. He must have practiced wielding them for years, and remembers that practice. Aruna might have also, but she can’t recall it. The fact that she remembered how to even hold them properly is a miracle.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says just as she sees Astarion’s hard exterior beginning to soften. She doesn’t want pity, doesn’t want empathy. She just wants to help the girl, “Let’s just talk to this Kagha and help Arabella.”

Before she has the chance to turn, Astarion is speaking to her lowly, disregarding the way she clearly wanted to move on from the matter, “I do apologize. Your condition… does slip my mind. I forget myself.”

“It’s not a condition,” she snaps, “It’s… it’s temporary. Maybe once we get rid of our parasites, I’ll regain my memories. It’s fine.”

Parasites. That’s what these tadpoles must be, leeches that have taken home in all their minds, and Aruna is just the unluckiest of the bunch to be stuck with one with a craving for memories.

She’ll remember. She has to.

“For what it’s worth,” he takes a step closer, nearly whispering, as though he’d rather die than allow anyone to hear his next words, “I do believe you had a childhood. We all must have, even those of us who can’t recall them.”

If she had been a little less absorbed in all her own issues at the moment, she might have picked up on that little word: us.

She would have noticed Astarion’s grouping of himself in that category.

But she doesn’t. She only turns and continues onto their mission, to find Kagha and Arabella, completely unaware that Astarion has bared a vulnerable fragment of himself to her. The moment passes, and she never witnesses the fall of his face as he realizes that the thread of connection has gone entirely over her head.

—

Aruna doesn’t know what her experiences with snakes had been prior to all of this, but she’s starting to sense they were not good. That, or all her survival instincts that were a product of human evolution were far more overactive than everyone else’s.

Astarion doesn’t even flinch at the snake. In fact, he looks monumentally disappointed when Aruna manages to persuade Kagha to not kill Arabella by letting the bloodthirsty creature sink its fangs into her.

“What a waste of a perfectly good show,” he sighs wistfully, watching the girl run off and out of the underground room they were now standing in.

One sharp warning glance from Aruna, and he’s smart enough to not make another comment on it.

“You wanted to speak with us,” Aruna says as she approaches Kagha once the death viper has long since departed. If Astarion notices, he certainly keeps quiet with his teasing.

“Indeed,” Kagha looks up. She still wears a veil of authority, holding herself bigger than she is as if to prove herself, “You are the ones who fought at the gate against the goblins.”

Suddenly, Aruna feels a squirming in her mind, a sudden presence pressing against her tadpole. It’s unfamiliar, sharp, but not unbearable.

The same experience as when she had met each of her fellow ailed companions, but to a less intense degree.

Obviously.

Aruna is shocked when she swears she hears Astarion mutter the sarcastic reply as it echoes in her head. She turns to look at him, but his lips are sealed tightly, wearing a bored expression that morphs into offense when he catches her glance.

Why is she looking at me like that? I didn’t say that outloud, did I?

It’s nearly impossible to school her shocked expression, but Aruna manages.

Astarion certainly did think the sarcastic reply, but he didn’t say it outloud. Aruna shouldn’t have been able to hear that. And yet the squirming in her head increases, and she has the sinking suspicion of who the culprit behind the shared thoughts might be.

Interesting.

“We are,” she answers Kagha before the pause grows so long it becomes suspicious, “And the druids at the entrance said you wanted to speak to us. So, please, by all means…”

She trails off, but her eyes continue to flicker towards Astarion. He’s growing more antsy under her watchful gaze, but she’s not going to scold him for being a sarcastic ass in his mind.

Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe the tadpole is draining her of memories and sanity.

Imagined or not, tadpoles to be blamed or not, Aruna remains distracted for most of her conversation with Kagha. Her focus wanes, only leaving just enough sensibility to make out that Kagha wants their group to clear the way for the tieflings to leave the Grove. The ceremony that Astarion had questioned outside, was being executed with the intent of sealing the Grove off. No one leaves, no one enters.

It’s all a bit morbid. And it makes Aruna’s bleeding heart ache for the tieflings. Predictable, she swears she hears Astarion’s voice say as her face contorts at that shared information.

She feels the crashing waves of Astarion’s irritation over all else when Kagha finishes her short speech.

“I’m asking you to help them. Will you?”

He already knows her answer. And so does Aruna – there’s not a single way in which she’ll walk out of here without agreeing to do so.

But she does take pause, and she does consider her options. Astarion may be shocked at the fact that she takes his reaction into consideration during these decisions now, but she does. And for all he seemingly loathes helping others, he is concerned with the parasite – he’s concerned with finding a healer, just like everyone else in her party.

“I’ll help,” the quietest of groans are already escaping Astarion’s lips, but they grow quiet when she continues, “On one condition.”

“Offering conditional help?” he admonishes, “I didn’t think you had that in you.”

For once, please shut up.

She doesn’t say it outloud. She thinks it, shooting the thought like an arrow, straight for the pressure of the presence against her tadpole.

It wasn’t an imagined connection. It’s clear Astarion had heard her by the way he nearly staggers not even a second after the thought has passed.

Very interesting.

“What’s your condition?” Kagha demands, looking between the two with brewing suspicion.

If she knew about their tadpoles, she’d probably kill them. With that damn death viper, no less.

“There’s a healer here by the name of Nettie,” Aruna feels Astarion perk up, all his dissatisfaction with the idea of helping the tieflings quickly fading, “I’ll help them, if she helps us.”

“And what would you need a healer for?”

“None of your business.”

Even Astarion is shocked by the sharpness of Aruna’s words. But when she looks at Kagha, all she sees is a woman turning her back on the helpless. And it sparks a new anger inside of her, a sense of righteousness that had to have been ingrained in her at some point. Whether it be before all of this or if it is simply a pillar of who she was, who she is, doesn’t matter.

Kagha is someone cruel. And Aruna suddenly realizes that cruelty is not part of who she is, not at her core.

Kagha smiles, a forced diplomatic grin that reeks of ingenuity. “You’ll find Nettie somewhere around here, feel free to seek her out as you please. But after you’ve seen her, I do expect you to speak to Zevlor, and to keep up your end of the bargain.”

There’s no need for Aruna to bristle at the words or her condescending tone. Astarion does it for her, and without looking, she knows his hands twitch beside his daggers.

Her dagger-happy friend, her shadow. She was never worried about blindly walking into a fight when it was him at her side.

Nods are exchanged, and when Kagha turns her back, Aruna is quick to guide herself and her companion across the room, narrowly avoiding the abundance of mud.

He doesn’t say a word until they’ve walked through a second doorway, entering what almost resembles a library of some sort. She expects a comment on her lashing out.

He surprises her when he simply says, “We have to talk about it, you know.”

“Out of all our companions, you are the one I least expected a lecture from regarding being rude-”

“I couldn’t care less regarding your attitude with the druid,” he interrupts, stopping them just before they cross into what looks to be a living quarters. A hospital, of sorts, “I mean the tadpoles. You spoke to me, without uttering a single word aloud. How?”

He doesn’t know that he initiated that connection. “I- You’re serious, aren’t you?”

His lips curl, nose scrunching, “If you’re about to tell me I’m going insane, I might go find the nearest stake and put myself out of my own misery.”

Stake? How oddly specific.

“See?” he exclaims suddenly, pointing at her accusingly, “I heard that! And yes, death by stake is quite specific, but don’t read into it too much, darling.”

“Get out of my mind,” she hisses, more mindful of being quiet than he was being, “Gods, Astarion, I don’t know. Technically, you opened up that connection. I heard your thoughts first. Which, by the way – thank you for not being such a smartass out loud in front of Kagha.”

His eyes widen, “Oh. Oh, you… heard that?”

Instead of answering properly, she only puts on her worst impersonation of him, accent and all as she tries to perfectly mimic his “Obviously.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You certainly did when you said it in my head.”

“No, I did not. My voice is far less nasally, far more refined-”

“Who cares?” she cuts him off, “The point is, we can use these parasites for our benefit until we rid ourselves of them. Imagine the potential of using those private… channels to speak to each other when we’re in front of an enemy.”

“I’d hardly call Kagha an enemy,” he snorts. But he doesn’t dismiss her idea, softening up in consideration, “I suppose you’re right. The only issue, of course, is how we opened up the connection to begin with.”

He’s right. Aruna isn’t so prideful as to fight him on that, nor is she idiotic enough to force the misfortune of figuring out the answer to that solely on him.

“Well, what were you feeling when you first thought that?” she asks carefully. She isn’t trying to pry, something she’s starting to figure out he’s not fond of, but to simply get answers, “I wasn’t hearing your every waking thought before then.”

He blinks rapidly, and she swears for a moment that he’ll take a step back. As though she’s gone too far. As though what he was feeling in the moment is private information that she hasn’t earned the knowledge of yet.

He doesn’t. “I… I suppose I just wanted to say that outloud, to you.”

That alone has a dozen implications.

“I need more than that,” she squints her eyes, “Especially considering it wasn’t something very important-”

“Making a sarcastic quip,” he looks pained as he elaborates, “Whenever I have something… particularly annoying to say, I enjoy watching your reaction to it. It’s fun to see you scramble when I run my mouth.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, but it does make sense. When she had sent her own message to him, she’d been feeling almost the exact same way – regarding wanting to talk to him, not so much as wanting to annoy him.

“I focused on the presence, or whatever it was, of your tadpole in my head,” she says, glancing over his shoulder as she catches sight of movement in the next room. A woman of shorter stature, hovering over something on one of the stone platforms, “So I suppose that’s the secret to it. Knowing us, another situation will arise soon enough for us to test our theory.”

He has more he wants to say. She can see it clearly in the press of his lips and the flare of his nostrils, but he doesn’t dare to speak whatever weighs on his mind, “Right. Of course. Knowing us.”

It was probably just another complaint of the way Aruna keeps getting them into trouble. He held his tongue, and she’s probably better for it.

Probably.

When they continue their exploration of the area, Aruna decides to take her time in surveying the new room rather than heading straight to the woman she had spied over Astarion’s shoulder. Tables of medicinal items, ranging from mugwort to jars of odd liquids, almost appearing to swirl with the night sky inside. The shelves of books, tomes, and slabs alike also pique Aruna’s interest. She wonders just how much trouble they might get into if she sent Astarion on a quick roundup of some of the interesting reads; his hands were far quicker and more adept for slipping them unnoticed into their packs. He’d proven such with the apple.

She doesn’t even notice that the thought has slipped down their tadpole connection until Astarion is shooting her an amused look, crossing his arms as he stares her down.

“And I thought you were against thievery,” he murmurs, voice low enough so that the woman on the other side of the room won’t hear them.

Aruna really has no defense. Besides, aside from his torment of teasing, Astarion doesn’t seem to actually judge her for having any slip-ups in morale, “I am. Hence why I didn’t ask that of you.”

“Say the word, and I’d do it,” he holds up a hand, wiggling the fingers for emphasis, “You could have your own precious library to rival the wizard’s – for a price, of course.”

“A price?”

Her grin is impossible to miss. Radiant, it’s golden cast reflecting right back at her off of Astarion’s own lips.

“You didn’t think I’d do that type of work for free, did you, darling?”

It’s a fun dance. A momentary distraction. For just a few brief seconds, they’re simply two people teasing one another, unbothered by their current circumstances or situations.

“Of course not. And, just out of curiosity,” she hums, well aware that in a few moments, they’ll need to approach that strange woman. They’ll have to drop the illusion and return to reality. But that specific warmth that only he seems capable of triggering has begun to burrow into her chest again, and she chases after the feeling, “What would your price be? If I did request that of you?”

He hesitates. She had expected a quick answer, a rapid-fire she’d struggle to keep up with. She hadn’t expected for a genuine look of contemplation to cross his face, as though he was struggling to even come up with a response for the hypothetical.

“Your daggers,” he says, although his tone isn’t quite as playful as it had been. His eyes flicker down at the blades tucked safely into each of her hips, and when they rise to meet her eyes again, it’s clear he’s somewhere far from her. Lost in thoughts, lost in his own mind, “You seemed quite defensive over them the other night. If they are special, and you’re hardly adept at wielding them, I might as well make use of them.”

“You’re not getting my daggers,” she shakes her head.

“Then I suppose you’re not getting your library.”

She laughs, and she prays he doesn’t hear any of the concern brewing beneath it. She prays that he’s still too far in his own head to recognize the way her attitude dips to meet his own deflation. Her laugh is as disingenuine as his forced smile he offers her, effectively ending the conversation.

He’s gone somewhere, somewhere so far that she couldn’t possibly follow, tadpole or not.

She finds herself hoping it isn’t quite as lonely as her own mind.

—

Nettie is… nice.

Or, rather, nice enough.

She’s fairly patient with Aruna and Astarion when they first approach, ignoring Astarion’s rude comeback to her requesting they give her just a second. She reacts kinder than necessary when Astarion prods the bird she had just healed as they pass by, prattling on about how the bird needs time to heal and how Astarion could benefit from exhibiting kindness to others.

At least his responsive scoff stays between Aruna and Astarion, echoing down the connection of their tadpoles.

She’s nice as she inquires what’s wrong with Aruna, she’s nice as Aruna explains the tadpole, and she’s nice as she offers to bring them back to her own private enclave for further examination. Hells, she’s even nice as she explains her entire experience with tadpoles thus far; a story involving another healer named Halsin, another unfortunate tadpole to be studied, and the dead drow on the table that Aruna tries to not stare at.

Something about the sight of the drow makes Aruna’s chest ache. An indescribable sorrow. A mourning she can’t recognize.

Halsin sounds more useful than this bore.

Astarion’s voice in her head cuts through all that odd grief, helping her shake it off easily.

Give her a chance.

I gave her a chance when I didn’t interrupt her ridiculous spiel regarding that damned bird and kindness.

And what makes that bird any less deserving of kindness than you or me?

If you think that, as a reward for simply existing, the world is going to hand you kindness, you are a bigger fool than I took you for.

When Nettie turns around, finally having finished her piece, she holds a thorny branch.

If I must be a fool, at least I am a kind one.

He doesn’t have a snarky response for that one. As a matter of fact, all that Aruna can feel through their connection is a resigned sadness. Something old, something yearning, something learned from a different lifetime. It makes no sense to Aruna. He doesn’t know her. Her being a fool shouldn’t affect him. Aruna’s own feet being set on the path of kindness has nothing to do with Astarion in the grand scheme of things beyond their journey to rid themselves of these worms. She’s the one with the ominous letter, she’s the one with debts to be paid regarding him once it’s all said and done. Her foolish kindness shouldn’t affect him.

And yet, it does. To a startling degree that Aruna can’t even offer proper focus to at the time being, because her focus must remain on the healer in front of her.

Because Nettie is nice enough, until she isn’t.

A series of questions, as if Aruna was on some impassable trial, is all it takes for the smaller woman to lose that nice exterior. And Aruna is unsure if maybe it was her tone to blame, being a bit too snippy with Astarion’s anxieties pounding at the back of her head. Or mayhaps if it is her memory loss to blame, making certain gaps impossible to fill and certain answers impossible to be honest. She doesn’t know where she went wrong, but she did – she’s gone terribly wrong the moment that Nettie’s face hardens in a flair of certain impassive determination, and she reaches out for Aruna’s hand.

Don’t.

Aruna can’t decipher if it was that knowing animal inside of her or Astarion that warns her so ferociously. Perhaps it had been the tadpole, a self-serving parasite that got them into this mess to begin with. She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know.

She only knows that the moment those thorns scratch her palm, it hurts like all Hells.

It burns. Terribly. And Aruna, for all her cluelessness, knows that healing shouldn’t burn.

She tugs her hand away from Nettie impossibly fast the moment the tips of the thorns have dug in, looking down at the angry pink scratches left behind. Only surface level, but they burn.

“What in the hells-” Astarion starts, taking a step forward as Aruna cradles her hand to her chest.

If I must be a fool, at least I am a kind one.

“Be careful – your legs will probably give out first.”

It’s not a cure. It’s not a plant of healing. It burns, its venom sinking its way into Aruna’s veins, spreading with a painful speed, her racing heart only quickening the process.

Aruna doesn’t have the chance to so much as blink before Astarion’s daggers are against Nettie’s neck.

Kind fool indeed.

TAGLIST: @emmaisgonnacry @writinginthetwilight @moonmunson

#ghost's stories #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #the moon will sing #wahoo #aruna you absolute dumb ass you failed that perception check #every day i go through life whispering to myself 'if i must be fool at least i am kind' over and over and over and over #i would rather be foolish and kind than callous and heartless #the older i get the harder it is to maintain that #anyways #three cheers to finally getting to the tadpole connection establishment we're definitely going to misuse that for nefarious reasons later o

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