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writingsnmusings · 3 years

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The Prince’s Favorite

pairing: ivar the boneless x reader

summary: reader is close to all the brothers, but this is just a glimpse into her relationship with the youngest son of ragnar. here is the first time her jealousy shows.

a/n: so i rewatched episode 4x11 and this is the outcome! this takes place right before this part. as always, the masterlist for the series will be here.

You made the trek down to the water where you knew the princes would be.

After a day of fishing and splashing around in the water, they would usually sprawl out on the sand and talk; for once not arguing or threatening each other. It was nice seeing them like that, especially Ivar.

You saw Sigurd first, then Ubbe, Hvitserk next to him and lastly Ivar at the end. You couldn’t quite understand what they were saying, but you decided you’d heard enough when Sigurd said Margrethe’s name. Something about that slave just rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hello boys,” You made your presence known as you stepped out from the trees.

They all turned to you, giving you smiles and a chorus of ‘hellos’. You made your way to Ivar as usual, you were always drawn to him. Just before you plopped yourself between him and Hvitserk in the sand, you felt a hand reach and grab your ass, making you yelp.

“Hvitserk!” You scolded as you swatted at the air, him already having pulled away laughing with his brothers at your reaction. Only Ivar wasn’t laughing, he was glaring at the three men.

You rolled your eyes as you moved to where Ivar’s head was, sitting cross legged as he sat himself up just to lay back down on your lap. His glare hadn’t moved from his brothers, even when you began talking to him.

“Ivar,” You whined, wanting his attention.

His blue eyes shot up to yours with confusion. “What, Y/N?”

“Pay attention to me, not them.” Your hands rested on his shoulder as he sighed, letting the tension out. You knew how overprotective he was with you and how Hvitserk loved to push his buttons. You would do everything you could to not have him slaughter his brothers in your honor.

Ivar chuckled at your neediness and nodded, his hands coming up to grab ahold of yours. “Of course.”

Ubbe spoke, causing the two of you to break eye contact and look his way. “Do you want me to ask her, Ivar?”

“Ask who, what?” You couldn’t help but be nosy, especially if it concerned your favorite prince.

The three brothers shared looks between them which made you antsy. What were they hiding?

The young prince in your lap waved his hand at Ubbe, “Not yet. I will let you know.”

Sigurd scoffed, “She will not want you if you wait too long.”

You looked down at Ivar, eyebrows raised. You didn’t want to ask the dreaded question, but you knew you had to. “Are you talking about Margrethe?” You knew the brothers history with that slave; they all took turns with her and it made your stomach churn thinking about Ivar doing the same.

Ivar refused to look up at you, instead he closed his eyes. You slapped his shoulder which made him glare at you, less evil than how he did to Hvitserk, but still. “Answer me.”

“Yeah brother, answer her.” Hvitserk teasingly spoke.

“Yes Y/N, we were talking about Margrethe.”

Your blood ran cold. You were sure the boys noticed the way your body tensed and you clenched your jaw. You were going to regret the next thing you said, but you couldn’t be bothered to care at the moment.

“I didn’t know you were into sharing,” You looked at Hvitserk as you spoke your next words. “Had I, I would’ve gotten around.”

Hvitserk’s eyes widened as did the rest of his brothers. He scrambled to sit up and grab his sword that laid at his feet; pulling it away from his younger brother.

Ivar pushed himself up off of you and scowled. Feeling all eyes on you, you kept your head down and tried to regulate your breathing. You felt a hand roughly grab your chin and force you to look up.

“I share you with nobody. You are mine, do you-”

His lightly veiled threat was cut off by Ubbe, “Do not call her yours, Ivar. We all know she’s not.”

Ivar stared at you through slit eyes, his scowl never leaving as Ubbe’s words sank in. He let go of you with a huff and scooted away, facing the water once again.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you had to get away from them, from Ivar before you said even more things you didn’t mean. Standing up, you brushed the sand off your dress before speaking. “I’ll be going now. I forgot I had some things to do.” You stumbled back to the trees where you came from, fighting the tears to stay back till you were out of sight.

Ivar’s face dropped as he watched you walk away, cursing himself for snapping like that.

“Don’t be stupid,” Hvitserk started, “Go after her.” He nodded in the direction you’d gone, but Ivar stayed planted in the sand.

“I agree with Hvitserk for once.” Sigurd mumbled.

Ivar was too stubborn for his own good. He knew he should've gone after you and yet he stayed and told Ubbe to fetch Margrethe.

It was late when Ubbe knocked on the door. You wrapped a fur around your shoulders as he barged in and began talking pure nonsense.

“We’re moving you to a different room,” He said, ushering you out into the hall.

“Who’s we? Where’s Ivar?” You questioned, getting frustrated. “He can’t sleep alone, I - we need each other.” Your arguments were heard on deaf ears as Ubbe pushed you along.

“C’mon Y/N, this was Ivar’s doing. He said he wants to be alone. Things with Margrethe didn’t uh go too well.” Ubbe whispered the last sentence as two thralls walked by the door you stood at.

You felt a pang in your chest and you couldn’t tell if it was because you felt bad for Ivar or because he practically ran you out of your shared chambers.

“Is he okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, you cared too much for the youngest prince.

The older Ragnarsson hesitated but knew he couldn’t lie to you. “No. I’m afraid he wasn’t ready for tonight.”

You wanted to curse at Ubbe and hit him for putting Ivar through whatever happened tonight. Ubbe was supposed to be the sensible, level headed older son, but that was severely wrong.

Walking into your new chambers, you shuddered at the emptiness of it. There was only a small bed and nightstand in the corner of the room. The fur you had taken off Ivar’s bed was still wrapped around your shoulders when Ubbe bid you a goodnight and left you alone.

You laid down and hugged the furs close to you, inhaling the scent of your prince that remained. You hoped Ivar would let you see him soon, you were sure to go crazy without him.

Ivar laid in his bed and frowned. He was going through many emotions at once and it was getting too much for him. He was angry, angry at his brothers and Margrethe. Angry at himself for being broken. He was also sad, sad that he was alone and you weren’t with him. Instead of you sleeping tucked under his arm or on the bed across the room, it was Hvitserk who had been stuck with babysitting him.

“You shouldn’t be alone.” Ubbe had said.

Ivar didn't need Hvitserk to babysit him, he needed you; but he was too stubborn and stupid to say so.

Sleep wouldn't come to you nor Ivar at all that night.

XXXXXX

taglist-

@youbloodymadgenius

@pomegranates-and-blood

@heavenly1927

@xceafh

@1950schick

@angelofthorr

@my-soul-is-the-moon

#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless imagine #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #the prince’s favorite #my writings

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barnesbabee · 3 years

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𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 - 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵

|| ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ⇜ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - 21

⟿ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: No sensible person would turn down their boss if they looked good as good as Seonghwa. But maybe they would wish they had…

⟿ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ: CEO!Seonghwa x reader, bestfriend!Yunho x reader || Social Media!AU || no gender specified for the reader

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: (send me a DM or an ask to be added) @ateezappreciation @shinyddeonghwa @lilithpooped @cloudyyeonnie@yeosangmystar @wooyoung-a @sanisms @mingismoon @lovelyvitamin @anawwyd @annasbannas @im-just-trying-to-survive-man @uglychildd @oddlittlefandomist @hwahomie @jin-neck-shaft @lovelyvitamin @yeosangmystar @skmoonchild @lovelymultiwrites @sunwooyoung

Panic settled in the room as Seonghwa's words echoed in your heads. Yunho was dead, Mingi disappeared, San wasn't waking up and the body was gone.

And meanwhile, you were getting railed in Seonghwa's office. You felt sick to your stomach, not knowing what to do, or where to even start.

"Someone say something!" Jongho yelled, at the top of his lungs, finally breaking his calm character.

The silence in the room was heavy and you suddenly felt as if you couldn't breathe, as if someone was gripping your throat from the inside. As if on cue, San groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"What the fuck?..." He groaned, as he sat up straight with the help of one hand.

San rubbed the back of his head with his other hand, hissing as he moved it up and down slowly.

You and Seonghwa ran towards him and knelt beside the man.

"San what happened!?"

San sat against the sofa, feeling too sick and too dizzy to sit up straight on his own. He took a couple of breathsm trying to recollect what happened before he blacked out.

"There really isn't much to say, right after Y/N left Mingi asked me to get him something from the kitchen and when I came back someone, I'm assuming Mingi, hit me with something in the back of the head. Next thing I know I'm waking up next to Jongho."

Seonghwa stood up, visibly stressed and irritated.

"Y/N I- I can't take this anymore. I'm tired, I'm stressed out, I wake up, go to sleep and go through the day stressed but I try to keep calm and be reasobale but I just can't anymore! I need to rest, I need time!" Jongho said.

His voice was shaky, his face was red and his eyes were desperate and tired. He had huge bags under his eyes, and he looked as if he wanted to cry, but was too tired to do so.

"I... I know. I know what you're feeling because I'm feeling it too, but the body is gone, and you know that if the body is found we'll all be questioned by the police and if he turns himself in he will also be questioned by the police and we both know that in either case they will be asking questions. The body is decomposing! They'll start asking why he didn't come right away, what happened between the murder and the confession, and it doesn't take much for Mingi to break! If he goes down he'll bring us with him!"

Your voice was unstable from crying, and you, just like every other person in the group, regretted helping Mingi. You should have stayed mad at him. You shouldn't have babied him and helped him cover up a murder. But it was too late, friendship and compassion won over you as if you were in a kid's cartoon where the power of friendship could overcome anything. But it didn't.

"Each of you get in one of my cars. We're splitting up and looking for him. Keys are in the ignition, let's go. The sooner we find him, the sooner it will all be over."

Seonghwa turned his back and started walking towards the garage, giving them no time to oppose themselves to the plan, or to complain at all.

Four motors roared in the garage as each of them left in their respective car to look around. He couldn't have gone very far, it had only been a couple hours and Mingi had no car and no money for a cab.

It was becoming increasingly hard for San to throw off Wooyoung. They had been spending a lot of time together and these past few days he had barely talked to the younger boy, making the latter suspicious that either San had gotten tired of him, or that he had found someone else. Either way Wooyoung was panicking and constantly blowing up San's phone, which was just the cherry on top. After the 10th ding sounded from his phone, San pulled over for a second and called Wooyoung.

"Heeey Woo." He said, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

"San what's happening? Please tell me if you're getting tired of me... Don't give me any hopes, because I really like you."

"What? No Wooyoung, I like you, like... a lot. Really. But I've just been busy with consoling Y/N, and there was a bunch of issues in some paperwork from my part-time job so I had to work on that as well, it's just been a very tiring couple of days, I'm sorry... Can I get back to you once I'm done? I need a little rest."

As far as Wooyoung knew you were still upset at Mingi.

"Alright fine, but I expect a nice homemade dinner once you're free."

"Of course baby."

San hung up with a sigh, relieved that he bought his excuses, and started the engine once more, resuming his search.

San was driving around the town, searching places with fewer people and hidden spots where rarely anybody went to. He ended up in a couple bad neighborhoods, which in retrospect it wasn't very smart since he was riding a Rolls Royce, but they hadn't been making good choices the past few days. Seonghwa headed back to the cabin where they had found the body, you searched every bridge and police station and Jongho went to his apartment.

It was minute 12 of driving around when you received a call. It was a group call with everyone involved.

"The body is back in the cabin. It's covered with all the leaves and shit we put here."

"Don't touch it, get out of there for now. I'm still trying to get to his house, anyone got anything?"

Jongho's question was met with a bunch of no's.

"Well I'm almost at his house and I can see- oh my God. I found him. I found him he's standing on a balcony and I think he's gonna jump everyone get here!"

Jongho hung up and you told Seonghwa the address. Thankfully you were close by and got there in no time. Jongho sprinted up the stairs and by the time you and San got to the house he was trying to talk Mingi out of it. Mingi was standing on the edge of his balcony, on the other side of the railing, but still holding onto it. Jongho was crying and begging Mingi to come to his senses and to come back inside, as he gripped his arm.

"It's no use Jongho, just let me go! This is not up to you!"

You and San got up to the balcony as well, trying to talk Mingi out of it.

"Mingi please! We'll get through this I'm begging you, we can't lose you too!" You yelled.

You wanted to stay composed but you couldn't help the tears streaming down your face. Even Jongho, who was usually very uncomfortable displaying his emotions, was crying and begging.

When Seonghwa got to the scene, he was terrified. He didn't know what to do, which was a common thing throughout the past few days, and it was killing him.

Everyone was pulling on Mingi's left side, trying to pull him up along with Jongho, so, without anyone noticing, he jumped outside the railing, and slowly walked towards Mingi without him noticing either.

Once he was close enough, he grabbed the man and pulled him up and over the railing, while holding himself stable with one hand on said railing.

However, Mingi's selfishness was bigger, and in the end, he showed that no matter what other people did for him, he was going to put himself first.

Mingi was mad, he thought his friends were being selfish and had no say in the matter, so while being saved, while going over the railing back into his house, he kicked it away with all the strength in his body, making him fall back.

Seonghwa, who was holding onto Mingi, failed to grip the railing harder and fell with Mingi, looking into your sad, panic-filled eyes as he fell to his death.

You bent over and watched the man you loved fall, in what felt like slow motion. His body hit the ground, and with an ugly cracking noise, Seonghwa's head split open.

You sprinted down the stairs, and once you got down to the ground people were circling the two men, taking pictures and gasping at the scene. You shoved away everybody in front of you so you could reach Seonghwa. His face was nearly intact, but the pool of blood surrounding his cracked skull told you there was no way he'd survive. His chest moved up and down quickly, for a couple of seconds, indicating the intense pain he was in.

"Seonghwa I'm sorry- I-I'm so sorry! Please... I love you..."

Just as the last three words left your mouth, you could see his lips twitch, before his chest stopped moving, before his eyes lost all of their color, before his body went limp in your hands. You stayed there, holding the face of the deceased man you once loved, your clothes soaking his blood and you cried out for forgiveness.

You didn't dare look at Mingi, but you sure hoped he was dead.

But he wasn't. And in the end. When the ambulance and the police came, they took Seonghwa to the morgue and Mingi to the hospital. Mingi ended up surviving after intense surgery, but not for long, because you would end up killing him.

"You don't get to live!" You told Mingi, as you stabbed gagged him and stabbed him over, and over, and over.

He died in a slow, agonizing way, just like you wanted him to. After all he put you, San, and Jongho through, after the sleepless nights, the constant stress, after staying the love of your life he still thought he'd get a second chance!?

You made sure he suffered, and you made sure he knew how much you hated him as you pierced your old, blunt, and rusty knife into his body.

San and Wooyoung ended up fleeing the country, and Jongho joined the military, both too afraid to face the reality and their past actions, seeking any refuge outside of their past lives. They did end up hearing about Mingi's death, and neither of them seemed to care. After everything, they just gave up on him completely.

You were arrested for Mingi's murder, but after confessing everything, and giving a couple touch-ups where you removed Seonghwa, Jongho, and San from the story, and after leading them to Yunho's body, the lawyer from your case pleaded not guilty, and blamed your acts on the heavy toll the incidents of helping your best friend, and the death of your lover, had taken on you, and the judge agreed that you should be under house arrest, with a government assigned professional that would assist you, take care of you, and report back to court.

Was that the end? Was that all there was to your life? That seemed to be the case... Sooner or later you'd end up joining Seonghwa however, you knew that much, you just hoped he was somewhere waiting for you.

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dreamsapphire28 · 3 years

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This is based on @yasuyorimarriedsamo reincarnation au I really liked it back then but you know inspiration is a fickle thing and it has struck now months later.

So in this au the Mc is the reincarnation of one of the exiles, in this version I'll be using my favorite exile Eurynome and my Mc1 Akemi.

The birth of a world, the touch of his beloved, ruling over his creation, a fight over who was the one to give origin to their world with the one he loved the most then making up accepting that the birth of their world was only possible due to their joined effort and love for each other, being betrayed by his loving sister, sinking alone into Oceanus and later being kept company by the sweet child who was also casted away only to leave that child behind when he passed from the world.

A name, his former, Eurynome.

Those memories and many others from the creator of Olympus were in his mind when Akemi was summoned to Tokyo that fateful night, they felt both vivid and distant like he was there living them but at the same time as if he lived them through someone else, Akemi could not remember his own life before coming to Tokyo all he had were the memories of Eurynome, Akemi was sure that at some point in the past he had been her, still he also was certain that he is his own person with his own life, he is more than just the continuation of someone else's existence, Akemi reassured himself.

Being able to recall Eurynome's life so vividly and having no knowledge of his own sometimes made it difficult for Akemi to try and differentiate himself from her, specially when he was overcome with emotions he couldn't fully understand, the ocean would be a great example of this just the sight of it filled him with such a bittersweet feeling, he knew it was because of that child, Hephaestus, that he had.... that Eurynome had taken care of the one she had to leave behind, but Akemi was a different person, so why did he feel that way? the memories he had of that time were both beautiful and sorrowful they could bring a tear to the eye of an outside observer, to Akemi however they felt close, personal, to the point where he wonders what became of Hephaestus even thinking about what things in Tokyo he could enjoy. Akemi had already accepted that he had once been Eurynome, but the he that existed right now is a different person, Akemi hopes beyond hope.

Being such a sensible subject to him Akemi never revealed the fact that he could remember his past life to none of his new friends in Tokyo, he did a pretty good job at hiding it too, most of the time, there where moments where people would think that Akemi seemed wise beyond his years or were surprised of his deep understanding of the concept of a world system as if he had been closely involved with one. Then of course there was his guardian Kyouma Mononobe, Akemi could not for the life of him tell if his teacher was aware of Akemi having these memories or if he just happened to say things that reassured him when he wrestled with the thought of just being an extension of someone else's life.

In the beginning Akemi wanted to hate Eurynome but hating her felt like hating himself, the interactions and connections Akemi had made during his time in Tokyo how he helped others in turn helped him with his insecurity about his own identity, now he didn't hate her, Akemi still knew that a lot of his feelings towards various things were influenced by Eurynome's memories but he could live with that, he had made peace with it and now in some way felt proud that he was carrying her legacy he could do that while still being someone else other than her.

Until the battle at Aoyama cemetery when a certain golden dragon had made a brief appearance in that place. Akemi knew who the dragon was the second he laid eyes on him the dragon had changed, yes, but Akemi could never mistake him. Not once before had Akemi felt so conflicted about if he truly was just an extension of Eurynome, he was overwhelmed with so many feelings that he could not begin to comprehend, joy, love, relief, longing, sorrow, regret, grief, just looking at Ophion stirred so many things from the depths of his soul that it rendered Akemi completely paralyzed, Ophion had to leave before his friends could shake Akemi out of his stupor. Luckily Ophion hadn't stayed for too long, but the impression he left on Akemi was not small, ever since encountering him Akemi could not get Ophion out of his mind not even during his infiltration of the Tokyo casino or while running around Shinjuku avoiding the ongoing debacle caused by the Roppongi Tycoons. Akemi knew for a fact that he was more than likely to meet someone from Euryonome's past sooner or later, even so he did not expect to be so shaken by it.

Now Akemi found himself before the one responsible for the current chaos in Shinjuku no other than Ophion, just looking at him Akemi could fell himself freezing up again overwhelmed with emotions. Then Ophion started boasting about how he, the sole creator of Olympus, could not be defeated, Akemi could not catch everything that Ophion said but it was enough to make all his conflicting emotions converge on a single point, fury would not be the proper word it was something a bit more petty, Akemi felt that it was more of an attack to his pride rather than an outright insult, "You deceitful lizard, saying you created the world on your own, as if" Akemi spat fixing Ophion with a sharp glare, Ophion was taken aback such a petulant child to speak like that to him the great Ophion, Akemi continued talking before Ophion could give him a piece of his mind "I thought you had learned your lesson back then, seems I was wrong, maybe I ought to knock off your other tusk to drive in the point" Akemi hissed angrily, Ophion eyes widened as he slowly reached for the place where his missing tusk once was, 'how did this child knew of that?' Ophion thought in surprise.

The battle raged on Ophion had sent his underlings deal with his opponents to little avail, he certainly did not expect having to deal with both Hakumen and Lucifuge, those two would have already dispatched each other if it wasn't for that damn insolent brat, the only person Ophion had not accounted for in his plan was making it all go awry. Believing that unless he disposed of these pest at this very moment his plan would become completely unsalvageable and seeing that regular minions were completely ineffective against the current foes Ophion made a brash decision, he used his sacred artifact to summon a younger version of himself ordering him to dispose of the rabble interfering with his scheme. The younger Ophion's oppressing aura made everyone stare at him cautiously, that was everyone except for Akemi who gave the same sharp glare he gave the older Ophion to the younger one, as if doing so was something that Akemi had done before many times. When young Ophion's gaze found Akemi the younger dragon's face was overcome with surprise "You..." young Ophion muttered quietly as he started walking towards Akemi who didn't so much as flinch when the dragon's intense gaze pinned on him. The younger dragon stopped right in front of Akemi and suddenly it was his turn to be surprised, young Ophion embraced him tightly yet lovingly "So this is where you've been" Ophion whispered, Akemi was speechless for a second, he felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes as his sword slipped from his grasp, Akemi hugged Ophion "Yeah, sorry you had to come all the way here for me" Akemi apologized.

Akemi and young Ophion's embrace was interrupted by the older Ophion "My younger inexperienced self the one you're embracing it's your enemy deal with him at once!" old Ophion snapped furiously. With the older Ophion's attention diverted Toji seized the opportunity to attack the older dragon, to the bewilderment of everyone present the clash of the two rules resulted in the creation of an exception with his rule now overflowing old Ophion entered a rampage bursting through the ceiling of the tower. "How could this happen? my rule and Ophion's don't oppose one another this outcome should not be" Toji muttered in equal parts astonishment and shame "Well yes and no, your attack didn't make a contradiction it's more like a paradox, the sole fact that Ophion could call upon his past self further proves that he didn't create that sacred artifact and by extension Olympus" Akemi explained a twinge of smugness in his tone at that last part as he walked up to Toji "Quite the sharp one are you not and here I thought I'd have to explain that to you" Alice mused "Say you seem to be quite familiar with Ophion's sacred artifact aren't you my dear knight?" She inquired looking intently at Akemi, who averted his gaze "What do you mean by paradox?" Toji asked confused "Under normal circumstances your attack wouldn't have caused an exception but Ophion summoned a younger version of himself, taking that version of himself from the time he existed in the past, your attack meant to destroy the egg made it so that the younger one should cease to exist but the older one still exist in Tokyo even though technically his past self had been exterminated and so the snake endlessly bites it's own tail" Akemi explained "Still the app treats this situation no different than the previous instances where exceptions appeared so we should be able to deal with this one the same way, but first we must deal with Ophion" Alice added.

With the help from both the summoners and Tycoons, Akemi and young Ophion defeated the enraged older Ophion who now layed on the balcony of the tower that served as the Tycoons headquarters, Akemi was kneeling beside him holding his hand as the dragon slowly dissipated into light "So it truly is you my beloved spouse" old Ophion said his tone uncharacteristically soft and peaceful "Not precisely, I bear her soul, I can remember her live, at some point I was her, but not now the person before you is someone else, I'm sorry to get your hopes up Ophion" Akemi apologized while smiling softly at Ophion "That may be but I can still see her same brilliance withing you and now I hold for you the same feelings" Ophion affirmed using his other hand to caress Akemi's face, he closed his eyes leaning into the touch with a relieved expression on his face then the sensation of Ophion's hand on his face faced as Ophion disappeared into the rainbow of transient light, the wind carrying the voice of the old dragon as he made a vow to his beloved. Akemi stood up to face the younger Ophion who was also fading out of the current time "I owe you an apology as well, you heard what I said before I am not Eurynome at least not in the way you thought I was" Akemi confessed avoiding eye contact with the young dragon, Ophion embraced Akemi once again "I am not one to fuss over such minimal details, to me you are and will always be my beloved spouse, no matter who you were or who you become it will not change anything for me" Ophion assured Akemi felt relief once again wash over him as he embraced the golden dragon "Such a cruel world to make us part just when we were reunited" Ophion sighed melancholically "Don't feel pity for me this is nothing that I don't deserve" Akemi interjected "Whatever could you mean?" Ophion questioned "Isn't it obvious? when Eurynome, no not only her I'm just as guilty, when I was exiled from Olympus I leaved you alone, now the world is taking you away from me because I abandoned you" Akemi stated "Such thoughts are not deserving of you my dear" Ophion said, while softly running his fingers through Akemi's hair who looked up at him small traces of tears on his face "For no matter if the world itself wants to do us apart I will cross whatever distance and surmount every obstacle to find you again, this parting is only temporary I will find my way back to you" Ophion declared boldly before disappearing into the rainbow of transient light promising to once again see his spouse. Toji arrived to find Akemi with his back to him looking at the sky "Akemi?" Toji called out softly, Akemi turned around his eyes watery tears threatening to spill at any moment "Is everything alright, do you need a moment?" Toji felt incredibly awkward having no experience in how to comfort someone, Akemi wiped his eyes with his sleeve putting on a smile that could only be described as brave, it was clear that he was hurting but that would have to wait until they could avert the current crisis "It's okay Toji, there's still things we need to resolve, I'll have some time to think about this later" Akemi responded trying to hide his sadness making his way to the exception territory.

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #mc1 #fanfic #fanfiction #housamo au #Tokyo afterschool summoners au #Ophion

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beansbeware · 3 years

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Beans’ Bagginshield Recs

Here it is! My first rec list eight years since I first started shipping Bagginshield. When this lockdown started (and ended and started again) I found myself re-reading OG/classics and discovering new ones. Sifting through my AO3 history I realized I have read and already forgotten so much fic over the years. For a while, I though the ship had run its course but as we can see now, Bagginshield lives! Check back for updates as I discover (and remember) more fics. Pay attention to the tags and trigger warnings!

I Sang In My Chains Like The Sea by orphan_account for lincesque, IronPanda

In which Bilbo is a Jaeger pilot candidate, and Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. (Pacific Rim AU) [Wasn’t sure how this one worked but man it did]

At the Turn of the Year by northerntrash

They say that strange things live in the woods, fair folk and things more spirit than man; don't step between the old oaks, parents mutter to their children, or they might find you, and eat you. Thorin never believed that, but now winter is settling into his bones, the shadows are growing longer through the hoar frost, and he is lost among the trees.

And it was there that Thorin met him, that strange, laughing creature, walking barefoot through the bracken.

Canon-ish

Homeward Bound by perkynurples for 61Below

His life slips away from him on an elven boat carrying him overseas, and there is one last journey Bilbo Baggins must take if he truly means to arrive home.

Sansûkh by determamfidd

The battle was over, and Thorin Oakenshield awoke, naked and shivering, in the Halls of his Ancestors.

The novelty of being dead fades quickly, and watching over his companions soon fills him with grief and guilt. Oddly, a faint flicker of hope arises in the form of his youngest kinsman, a Dwarf of Durin's line with bright red hair.

(Follows the story of the War of the Ring).

The Great Shire Conspiracy by Avelera for Emsiecat

Ten years later, Bilbo can't even go to the Green Dragon without a dwarven tourist buying him a beer and sobbing over Bilbo's great tragic love affair with Thorin Oakenshield. Which would all be quite touching and heartbreaking, if not for one little thing...

Dark (generally not a fan but this one made the cut)

Pain-Bearer by lilithiumwords (unfinished)

In an alternate reality, Erebor was never taken by Smaug, and the War of Dwarves and Orcs never happened. The Orcs invaded the Shire, slaughtering hundreds and taking countless more as slaves. Bilbo is slave to Azog, the Dwarf King's mortal enemy... until the Dwarf King rescues him.

Dwarves! in the Shire

Selling to Hobbits by HildyJ

Exiled from his kingdom and living on the mercy of others, Thorin is determined to make his own way in the world for him and his family. And the annual Summer Fair in Hobbiton sounds like the best place to sell enough of his crafted goods to do just that.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ (series)

After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Erebor - Nope, Never Fell

A Most Sensible Idea by HildyJ

Bilbo Baggins isn't sure about this. Not one bit.

Frodo is definitely too young to enter into an arranged marriage with a dwarven king called Thorin Oakenshield. It's a good thing that Bilbo is there to chaperone him through their courtship.

After all, there's no chance that a fussy hobbit bachelor would ever catch the eye of a king.

Signs and Meanings by HildyJ

It shouldn't matter to Thorin that the visiting hobbit cook doesn't speak his language. But it does.

Per Aspera by northerntrash

Deep in the dungeons of the Kingdom of Erebor, in an old, unused storeroom, lived a Hobbit.

In which Bilbo Baggins, a strangely successful thief, makes a mistake, and meets a Prince.

Erebor - Rebuilding

Mother-Tongue by northerntrash for HildyJ

Forget-me-not: a small flower, with four petals, which are normally found in shades of blue with a pink or white centre. These are traditional flowers of intent in the Shire, used to express true love, and remembrance.

In which Bilbo plans to leave Erebor, and Thorin tries to understand why.

Previous Engagements by Lunarflare14

After the Battle of Five Armies Thorin and Company have a new task: rebuilding their reclaimed home. Suddenly Bilbo finds himself up to his ears in responsibility and he surprises himself with how well he can navigate negotiations with elf dignitaries, farmers in Dale, and a dwarf king who has patience for neither.

But as Spring approaches a caravan from the Blue mountains brings something everyone had nearly forgotten: the dwarf woman Thorin promised his hand to many years ago.

Which is fine. It's all fine. It wasn't like Bilbo was falling in love with the king or anything.

That would be tragic.

And I'm Your Lionheart by Lee_Whimsy

Bilbo lingers in Erebor while Thorin recovers from his wounds, and soon finds himself caught up in politics, romance, and the occasional kidnapping. Ensemble cast. AU. Eventually Thorin/Bilbo.

Fix-Its (Gawd we need them)

An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn

For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right?

Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

though the stars walk backward by baggvinshield, killaidanturner

Bilbo wakes, always in Erebor, with dark shadows to one side and the first light of a terrible dawn to the other.

An Expected Journey by MarieJacquelyn

Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Over Your Shoulder by northerntrash

The battle is over, and the lost have been counted. There is too much death, too much blood, and in the middle of it sits one small Hobbit, left quite alone but for a body on the ground and the memory of what might have been. But he is a tenacious creature, and if there is one thing that he has learnt, it is not to give up hope.

In which Bilbo Baggins goes on one last journey, and doesn't come back alone.

Historical Setting

The Ghost And Mr Baggins by perkynurples

They say that everything can be cured by saltwater - sweat, tears or the sea. Bilbo Baggins chooses the last option, taking his recently orphaned nephew and moving to the charming Oak Cottage, overlooking England’s grislier shores. The house charms him instantly, and though he knows nothing at all about the sea, or about making ends meet on his own so far from everything he’s known his whole life for that matter, he’s quite determined to stay, and see his nephew get better, odd sounds in the night be damned. He’s living in a modern world, after all, and the nonsense he’s been hearing about the house being haunted by its former owner, the mysterious Captain Durin, is just silly superstition… isn’t it?

Hobbit! Thorin

I've Grown a Hedge Around My Heart by pibroch (littleblackdog)

Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood.

It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him.

Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

Marriage (or something like it)

An Unexpected Proposal by Eareniel

As Bilbo sat smoking in his empty hobbit hole, he couldn’t help but wonder – when did his life become so boring? Or better yet – when did his old life stop being enough?

He suspected the answer to that question lay somewhere around the time when he had refused Thorin Oakenshield’s offer of marriage.

Something Blue by Lapin

Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Magical/Super Powers

On Adventures and Other Forms of Conduct Unbecoming of a Wizard by manic_intent for beingevil

For as long as even the old Gaffer could remember there had been a wizard living in the hill at Bag End, overlooking the Shire. As wizards went, this one wasn't the wandering sort, always out to lure gentle folk out onto nasty adventures, or even the powerful kind, the sort that lived in high towers, reaching out into the ways of the world.

Modern Setting

Old Stone, New Fires by northerntrash

Bilbo was not sure what he had expected when he had agreed to supervise the restoration of Erebor House, on the lonely tidal island in the North sea, but it was not this. The winters up here are cold and harsh, and there is a strange feeling on the air, thick with the brine of the sea and secrets to which he is not privy; there is some part of the long and troubled history of the place that has not been spoken of, a shadow between the broken family gravestones and the caves beneath the cliffs, dark and dangerous.

Perhaps it is all in Bilbo’s mind, but as the nights grow longer, he starts to doubt it, and as Thorin sinks ever deeper into black and incalculable moods, he will have to find what has been lost, before it takes them all.

For This by northerntrash

Thorin Durin had lived in his new flat for approximately eighty four minutes when things started to go terribly, terribly wrong. The wrongness came in the form of a package, delivered to his door, wrapped in brown paper and string, with a small tag wishing him a very sincere welcome to the building.

Nothing Gold Can Stay by perkynurples

Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples

Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

If There Were Water by stickman

Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there's something strange about Bywater House that he can't quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.

How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us by stickman

Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands.

Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up.

Except one morning, someone does.

The Boy You Met (At The Coin Laundry) by Lee_Whimsy

Bilbo accidentally spends a summer in Ireland. One rainy day, Thorin appears in the hotel laundry room, naked and dripping wet and about to propose. (But not, unfortunately, to Bilbo.)

Gandalf, Thranduil, and a handful of Spanish footballers all guest-star.

Hooked On You by Chamelaucium

Thorin should have learnt not to trust his brother and sister by now.

Come with us on holiday, they’d said. It’ll be fun, they’d said. A nice break from work.

Yeah right. All this holiday had brought him was being knocked around the head, acute hay-fever, and the biggest, most ridiculous crush ever on the cute, golden-haired fishing instructor.

One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash

"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."

The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.

“One”/Soulmates

you lick your lips (you taste like years of being alone) by perkynurples for stopchasingflowers

Thorin Oakenshield was born without the longing, and has spent his whole life merely observing others as they pursued a feeling unknown to him until they finally found their One. He has made his peace with the prospect of being alone, and has been faring well enough, but little does he know the fates have a different story in store for him.

Things We Grow Together by serenbach

Dwarves are born with a bone-deep knowledge of their One, but Thorin stops feeling the pull of his after the dragon attacks Erebor. Needless to say, he is surprised, and not initially pleased, to find his One living behind a round green door decades later.

Hobbits find a seed that represents their innermost self and can offer it to someone else to plant. This creates a bond as strong as deep roots in the earth between them. It is just like Bilbo, after years of thinking that no one would want his, to offer his soul-seed to a dwarf that does not understand gardening metaphors.

But just because they have found each other does not make the quest to reclaim Erebor any easier, and in the end a sacrifice is still made.

Thorin has to trust in the strength of the bond between himself and his One, because otherwise he will never believe that the sacrifice was worth it.

Colour-struck by northerntrash

Soul mates are like adventures, Bilbo had often consoled himself. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that made you late for dinner. It was no great hardship that he had never met his, even if he couldn't tell which of his petunias were blue and which were purple.

Quest-ions

Discovering Mr Baggins by Eareniel

The story of a Hobbit, told through the eyes of the dwarves.

Thorin Oakenshield's Majestic Diary by Fruitsie

Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain and Totally Majestic Badass of Middle Earth, does not have a raging hard-on for Bilbo Baggins.

No, seriously.

Just read his diary.

Call You Home by northerntrash

In which the Company are entirely too nosy about matters that are supposed to be a secret, and Bilbo learns that being concerned about propriety is overrated when you could be making friends instead.

Time Travel (because walking Middle Earth is not enough)

Of an Arcane Binding by Salvia_G

An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor

#bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit #fic rec #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield

92 notes · View notes

wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

conflicted — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

prompt: fred’s joke shop dreams are a little worrying.

please refrain from plagiarizing my work. requests are always open!

Is she cross with Fred?

Yes. But it's not her fault.

Or at least that's what she tells herself, because her pride is much too high for her to admit otherwise.

"I just don't—I don't get him," says [Y/N] with a deep, frustrated sigh, scowling at the surface of the black lake. "I understand that that's what he's passionate about and he genuinely enjoys making prank products—and don't get me wrong as long as he's happy, I am too—but he's.. he's not even trying, George, and that's what's bothering me."

Beside her, George Weasley grunts. "Are you sure I'm the best person to be telling this to?" he asks uncertainly. Thankfully, today, he's not being as much of the joker he usually is; probably because he can tell [Y/N] is being deadly serious. "Freddie and I are literally on the same boat. I should be offended."

[Y/N] spares him a mere sideways glance before she lets out another heavy exhale and fixes her gaze back onto the lake. "You're the only other person I can think of who can get through to him," she tells George glumly. "Maybe you'll succeed where I've failed."

George wrinkles his nose.

The pair of them are sitting by the Great Lake on Hogwarts grounds, both staring intently into the murky surface as if waiting for the giant squid to come out and swallow them whole. Other students mill around, talking and laughing amongst themselves. A group of third-year Hufflepuffs is playing a very intense game of frisbee. Some students just lay on the grass, basking in the warm glow of the sun.

George and [Y/N], meanwhile, are hardly out here for sunbathing. In fact, the somber looks on their faces are a sharp contrast to the perfect picture of a bright summer's day happening all around them. [Y/N] had asked George to come talk to her today after she'd fought with her boyfriend—who happened to be his twin brother—Fred Weasley.

While [Y/N] and Fred rarely fought, whenever they did, it was usually about the same thing: Fred's future. Like a normal girlfriend, [Y/N] wants what's best for him, and she's not entirely certain Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is the right path for him to go down on.

"It's just—it's risking a lot, George," she mutters, absentmindedly plucking at an innocent blade of grass on the ground. "You guys are good at what you do and everything, but it's.. you're taking a shot in the dark, is what I'm saying."

George hums. "I really should be offended," he sniffs, adjusting his arms from where they're set atop his crossed knees. "But I suppose I get where you're coming from. You're worried."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Who?"

[Y/N] looks up at him, then shakes her head. "Nevermind. Forgot you weren't Muggle-born. Go on."

George shakes his head in feigned disapproval. "Muggles."

"George."

"As I was saying," he continues, "The idea of a joke shop doesn't sound quite as promising as a job at old Saint Mungo's or the Ministry, but who cares? It's what Fred wants. It's what we want—hey, wait, why aren't you as worried for me as you are for Fred?"

George swivels around to face her, a look of proper hurt on his face. [Y/N] can't tell if it's fake or not, but it's certainly exaggerated—he's pulling abnormally large puppy eyes.

"Because you're not my boyfriend," says [Y/N], deadpan.

"I know, but I'm your friend—and future brother-in-law—"

Cringing, she groans, "Will you stop pulling that face, please, George? It's creeping me out."

George's face droops back to normal. "Whoops. My apologies, future sister-in-law who only cares about my brother's future but not mine."

[Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Let's be honest, George—if I stopped beating around the bush and asked you to drop all your joke shop plans, would you?"

The redhead doesn't even miss a beat. "No."

"But would you think about it?"

He pauses and makes to shake his head, but then after much thought, he nods. "I suppose. Would probably decide to go through with it in the end, though. It's a joke shop or nothing."

She sighs, once more frowning at the lake. "Fred wouldn't. Think about it, I mean. He'd say no right away. Makes you the more sensible one, as much as I hate to admit it, which means you just might be able to make a point to him."

A crease forms in between George's eyebrows. "You do realize that if I do end up changing his mind, that won't put me in a good place, right? I want to go through with the joke shop just as much as he does."

"I'm not asking you to change his mind," [Y/N] reassures him, pursing her lips. "I just want you to help him understand why I'm upset with him—he can't seem to figure it out by himself."

George snorts. "Bit of an understatement, innit? You'd think since we were twins it'd be the same, but Freddie's got a thicker skull than I do."

[Y/N] lets out a heavy breath through her nose, shoulders slumping dejectedly. "Trust me, George, I know."

—

"Are you cross with [Y/N]?"

"Yes, but it's not my fault."

Fred Weasley folds his arms over the table, scowling down at his plate like the sausages on it have committed a grave sin against him.

"What did you guys fight about?" asks Ginny, eyebrows arched as she shovels beans onto her plate. "Were you jealous of Harry again?"

"No—can you stop bringing that up, Gin? It happened once."

Ginny giggles. "If it's not that, then what is it?"

Someone slides into the seat next to Fred. It's George. "'Ello, Freddy. Why do you look like you've swallowed something sour?"

"Oh, piss off."

George clutches his chest like he's been fatally wounded. "Ouch."

"He and [Y/N] are fighting again," explains Ginny, an impish smirk blooming on her lips. Leaning over the table, she whispers to George, "I think he's jealous of someone again—d'you think it's Harry?"

Fred shoots his younger sister a glare. "I already said it wasn't—"

"Ah, good guess, Gin," George whispers back, playing along. "But not quite. See, I actually know why they're fighting—give me a galleon and I'll tell you."

Ginny withdraws back over the table and into her seat, rolling her eyes. "That won't be necessary. If it's not about Harry, it's probably the joke shop. Right?"

"It's never about Harry," Fred groans, dragging his palm over his face in frustration.

"There goes my galleon," George says sullenly, shoulders slumping. "But yes. Like a caring girlfriend, [Y/N] wants Fred to consider going down a career other than Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

Through a mouthful of beans, Ginny says, "She has got a point."

"The same point as mum," Fred grumbles. "She knows it's what makes me happy but she's telling me to—"

"She's telling you to try, Freddy," George cuts him off, turning around in his seat to face his twin. "She's not asking you to change your mind—she wants you to at least try scraping an acceptable on your N.E.W.T.s."

Fred huffs, grabs a fork, angrily stabs it into an innocent sausage, and shovels it into his mouth all in one go. "You've got a lot of nerve telling me that, Georgey," he says, words just barely audible through his chewing. "Last time I checked, you're not studying for the tests either."

George grins. "Point taken, but I don't have a girlfriend to pester me about it, so I'm free to do whatever I want."

"You've got mum," Ginny chimes in. "She wants you to study, too."

"That's different."

"How so?"

George shrugs and twists back around in his seat to face the table properly. "Regardless of what happens, mum's always gonna be there, isn't she?" He gives Fred a sidelong glance. "A girlfriend, on the other hand—you never know when they might slip away. You've gotta hang onto them."

—

It's eleven at night when [Y/N] comes knocking on Fred's door.

Ten minutes before that, she'd been lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as her thoughts swirled with Fred and joke shops and N.E.W.T. scores.

Fred is passionate about pranking. It's what he's known and loved his entire life, and instead of leaving it behind with his adolescence, he wants to take it further into adulthood in the form of a joke shop. And to be honest, [Y/N] is certain no one can change his mind. Not her, not Molly—no one. Girlfriend or not, she can't tell him what career to go down on; if it makes him happy, then so be it. Right?

But what she wants him to do is to at least try. He's setting aside all of his other responsibilities and betting everything on a joke shop that might not even turn out to do well. The future is uncertain, and while Weasley's Wizard Wheezes might turn out to be incredibly successful, it could just as easily be a major flop.

And if, in that case, it doesn't go as planned, [Y/N] doesn't want him to look back years from now and regret not trying. He'd blame himself and go mad over all the what-ifs.

[Y/N] doesn't want that. She loves him too much to see him anything but happy.

—

The clock strikes eleven and a knock sounds on his door.

Fred looks up from where he'd been sitting by the windowsill. He's the only one left awake in their dorm room. Having known he wouldn't be able to doze off even if he tried, Fred has been sitting here by the window looking down onto the school grounds for the past hour, thinking.

Ah, thinking. He hates it, how he has to mull over everything in his head repeatedly only to come up short. It's why he acts rashly most of the time; why he does things without hesitation. It's so much easier to just go forward spearheaded—why think about things when it'll only slow you down?

It's why Fred's usually the one to operate his and George's pranks. Fred has the ideas and more drive, and George takes precautions so no one is hurt, and makes sure that the pranks will work. It's the same with their joke shop. George has actually considered taking on a different career (and Fred knows that he is still considering it, even though George won't admit it to him), but Fred is determined. He has his mind set—everything he's doing right now is for the joke shop. Considering a different career is out of the question.

Well, it's supposed to be, except [Y/N] wants him to.

And if anyone can convince him to do anything, it's [Y/N]. He hasn't told her yet, but he's in love with her. Stupidly, madly in love. And he doesn't need to tell her this because she already knows, but Fred is willing to do anything for her.

Is he willing to give up the joke shop, though? He's not so sure.

His mind a muddled mess, he rises from his seat on the windowsill and calls, "Coming!" without even pausing to think about who might be behind the door. So when Fred opens the door and sees [Y/N] standing there looking ridiculously small in the oversized sweater his mum gave her for Christmas, he doesn't quite know what to say.

"Hi," says [Y/N] in a timid voice, and it's ridiculous because she never sounds like that around him. [Y/N] is loud and affectionate and isn't afraid to speak what's on her mind, so seeing her like this knowing that he's the reason why is making him feel ten times more horrible than he already is.

"Hey," Fred grimaces, gripping tightly onto the door because he feels oddly unstable on his feet.

Scratching the back of her head, she chews on her bottom lip—a nervous tic Fred is all too familiar with—and asks, "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we talking already?" he jokes weakly, but he steps forward out into the hallway and closes the door behind him with a quiet snap.

Now that the sound of George's snoring has mostly been muffled, Fred and [Y/N] are submerged in uncomfortable silence. It's strange and suffocating and awkward all at the same time, because feeling uncomfortable around each other is a rarity. Fred can't recall the last time he ever felt this way around her. He's pretty sure the only time he did was when he'd first asked her out back then, all those months ago.

Judging from the look on [Y/N]'s face, she feels the same way.

She clenches her fists at her sides, and with the willpower of a thousand men, meets Fred's gaze. "Okay. First off—I'm sorry."

Fred stares at her. She keeps going, talking rapidly as though the words will fade away if she doesn't get them out fast enough, "Second of all, I was an arse for making you feel bad for doing what you love to do, and that's my fault and again I'm sorry but I want you to understand that I did it because I want what's best for you."

She pauses, running an aggravated hand through her hair.

Fred opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn't notice because her distressed gaze is glued to the floor. Unknowingly, she cuts him off and keeps rambling, "And I'm not saying that the joke shop won't do well but just in case it doesn't, the last thing I want you to do is to look back a couple years from now, regret not even trying to crack open a book or two, and blame yourself. I know I can't tell you what to do but I'm just saying—I care about you, Fred—I truly do and it's just—" she takes in another deep, shaky breath, and says in a quieter voice, "I'm sorry."

For the first time, Fred is at a complete loss for words. No witty joke nor playful remark rests on the tip of his tongue. But there's an odd prickling feeling at the back of his eyes and a strange stinging sensation in his nose, like he's just inhaled pepper powder—

"It's fine," he mutters, scratching the back of his head as he rapidly blinks the prickling feeling away. "It's.. I understand."

[Y/N] swallows. She'd thought that once she got all of that off of her chest, the guilt itching at her would subside—but it's still there, just as insistent as ever. "I'm sorry," she sighs, shaking her head. "Truly, Fred, I—"

Fred hates thinking. So he just does what his brain tells him to do—what his brain has been telling him to do ever since he'd first pulled the door open and saw her standing there in all her beautiful, hesitant glory.

He pulls her into him and holds her tight.

"It's fine," he repeats into her shoulder. He'd caught her by surprise—he can tell because of the way it takes her a moment to relax into him. "It's fine, [Y/N]."

When she does relax, however, she melts into him the same way she has done so many times before; she wraps her arms around his middle, buries her head into his chest and holds on just as tight. Solace overcomes the feeling of guilt and agitation bubbling up in her chest, and it feels as though a switch has been turned off in her brain.

It's fine. It's okay now.

Fred takes a deep breath and nods repeatedly, like he's reassuring both himself and her. He whispers quiet apologies into her hair, and even though he doesn't say it directly, [Y/N] can hear him asking her to understand him.

Fred hates thinking—maybe that's why he has never really been good with putting his feelings into words. Maybe that's why he needs [Y/N] so much; because he doesn't have to translate the mess of thoughts in his head for her to understand. She just does.

[Y/N] pulls away by a fraction of an inch, eyes still closed as she leans her forehead on Fred's and whispers, both to herself and to him: it's okay, it's fine.

And somewhere in her whispered words of affection she accidentally lets three words slip out—three words she has never said before but have been waiting to be said for a long, long time—"I love you".

Fred closes the distance between them and presses his lips to hers. Mumbles the same three words into her lips like it's a prayer.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley oneshots #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #george weasley #weasley twins #ginny weasley

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elijahs-wife · 4 years

Text

A Whole New World

Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt: “Hi! Can I please request a Kol x vampire!fem!reader where she’s Damon & Stefan’s younger sister, & she was turned when they were (when their dad shot them). Y/n met Kol right after she when through vampire transition (When Stefan made Damon turn, that’s when Y/n turned as well) since Damon & Stefan were fighting, they both asked her to come with them, but she didn’t want to choose between her brothers, so she chose to go with Kol, who offered for her to travel with him. They fall in love along the way🥰” THANK YOU FOR THIS CECE!! I’m sorry its so late but ya girl is in college and I have no free time rip. I hope you enjoy it! <3

A/N: There are some inconsistencies with the actual TVD timeline and plot in this story but IGNORE THEM FOR THE SAKE OF THE CRAFT lol. I also made everyone a little older so that Kol wouldn’t have to fall in love with a 16 y/o girl.

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore Fem! Reader

Word Count: 5.1k oops

Warnings: nothing much...? a couple of deaths but nothing graphic

Mystic Falls, 1864

When Katherine Pierce came to stay at the Salvatore’s house, Y/N couldn’t have been more thrilled to have another girl in the house. Not that she didn’t love her brothers, on the contrary, she loved them very much, but all her life she had secretly longed for a sister. Finally, she had someone to really talk to, a friend, a confidante, and she couldn’t wait for when she would choose one of her brothers and become a real sister. The day she found out about Katherine’s secret, the day that she accidentally walked in on her feeding on Damon, she wasn’t scared, although she knew she should have been. She knew that a sensible young girl would have told someone immediately, or at the very least ran away, but she didn’t. She was intrigued by vampirism in a way she couldn’t explain.

Y/N had spent most of her evening in her bedroom, absorbed in a book; she knew that Katherine was busy with Stefan earlier, so she kept her distance so as to not see anything traumatic. When she left the room, the house seemed unnaturally quiet, and there was no one in sight. She went downstairs to check there, but nobody was there, until Damon stormed through the front door, making her jump up in shock. “Y/N”, he burst out, “Father knows, about Katherine. They’re planning on killing her, on killing all of them.” Her hands flew over her mouth in horror – how could he have found out?

“Listen to me, Y/N”, Damon said, his hands firm and resolute on her shoulders, piercing her with his icy gaze, “Stefan and I are going to save her. You will see her again, I promise.” Shaking her head frantically, she cried, “Let me come with you, Damon, please,” as she took hold of his arm, but he tore it from her grip. “It is far too dangerous outside, sister. Please, just stay here.” And with that, he rushed out of the front door.

There she stood in the parlor, shaking like a leaf in a storm, worry riddling her mind. She was her father’s favorite, and while he was gentler with her, she also knew that Guiseppe could be a cruel, vindictive man, and if he caught wind of the mission that her brothers were on, she had no idea what he might do; in fact, she shuddered to even think about it. And if they were caught? No, she couldn’t let her brothers face Father’s wrath on their own, she had to be there for them. She headed to the kitchen to retrieve the knife, cringing at the thought of having to use it, but she’d rather be safe than sorry. Running out onto the porch, she heard the shouts of men in the woods nearby and followed their noise. She slipped between the trees, placing her steps with deliberation. It was dark, with only slivers of moonlight to help her see, so she was careful as to not make any sudden movements. The voices were getting closer now, and in a few more steps she could see two men in a clearing, loading a woman into a carriage – Katherine. Y/N crouched behind a large tree, watching from a distance as Stefan distracted the men and Damon knocked them unconscious. Thank heavens, she thought, relief washing over her as they hoisted Katherine out of the carriage. She took a step forward to help them when she heard the deafening sound of a gunshot, and then the thud of a body falling on the ground. Damon. Another gunshot, and she saw the blood patterns blooming on Stefan’s shirt, before he collapsed.

A horrified, strangled noise left her throat – she wanted to scream but she couldn’t. It was then that she saw the dark figure lurking there, holding a rifle, and then retreating into the trees. The man who had just killed her brothers. Fueled by unbridled rage, she stepped out of hiding and ran until she saw his shadowed figure. “Show yourself!’ she yelled at him, wielding her knife with a shaky hand. The man froze at the sound of her voice. “Show yourself, you bastard, so I can see who you are before I kill you!” He turned around slowly, and as he took a step forward, the moon illuminated his face. The knife fell out of her grasp and onto the twigs and leaves below their feet. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. “Father?” she croaked, tears starting to prick at her eyes.

“You should not have left the house, Y/N”, Guiseppe said, his eyes hard and unfeeling as they stared at his daughter. She quivered on the spot, unable to move. “You- you killed Stefan and Damon?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I killed your brothers.” There was no hint of remorse in his voice. She broke down into quiet sobs, tears streaming down her face as she tried to process her loss. How dare he stand there and face her after committing such an atrocity? “They just wanted to save Katherine, Father. They are your sons; how could you do that to them?” she cried. He took a few steps closer to her. “Katherine is a vampire, Y/N. But of course, you knew that already.” Her despair was now clouded by red anger. She paused for a second, trying to compose herself before defiantly sticking her chin out and replying, “So what of it? Katherine was like a sister to me, and vampire or not, nothing could change that.” Guiseppe’s face twisted into disgust, although Y/N could have sworn she saw a flash of regret in the mix. “I am sorry, Y/N. But I cannot have sympathizers for children.” The sound of a bullet being fired was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

How much time had passed, she did not know, but it was still dark when Y/N woke up alone on the forest floor. She sat up gingerly, a slight pain in her stomach. To her horror, when she looked down, her dress was torn and bloody at the bodice from where she had been shot. The memories were coming back now, how her father had let his hatred for vampires justify killing his own children in cold blood. But if he had killed her, how was she awake?

Stumbling to get on her feet, she pressed her fingers against her stomach – her wound was completely healed, which only added to her confusion, and she felt the most ravenous hunger, clawing at her stomach and throat, making her almost dizzy. Her only instinct was to get out of this forest and find help. She didn’t even notice when she bumped into someone, hard. One of the guards that Damon had knocked out. “Miss Salvatore? What are you- oh my goodness, you’re hurt”, he sputtered, looking down at her bloodied dress. “What-”

“I’m fine”, she interjected, finding his voice far too loud for her liking, it was hurting her ears. The steady thrum of his pulse, however, was ever so enticing. Something in her body was telling her that he was the key to quelling that hunger in her. She looked away from him and at her feet instead, in an attempt to suppress the thirst. But the sound, the smell, it pulled her in like a magnet. She could hear him calling her name, but it was so hard to focus when all she could think about was blood. And at that moment, she remembered that Katherine had never told her how one became a vampire, and suddenly she knew exactly what was happening to her. She couldn’t control herself, not when it was in such close proximity. “I’m sorry,”, she whispered. His confused expression transformed to fear when she bit down on his neck. He had barely started to scream when she pulled away and looked deeply into his eyes, commanding, “Do not move or make a sound.” So, he remained silent, unable to move an inch as Y/N drank from him. The taste was funny at first, warm and metallic – then all of a sudden, irresistible. She reveled in the feelings of immeasurable power that were coursing throughout her body, feeling the blood dripping down her chin.

“It’s good manners to share, you know”, an unfamiliar voice said from behind her. She whipped around to face it and found a total stranger standing there. He looked young and he had a handsome face, with dark purple veins pulsing below his eyes – another vampire. In her shock, she stepped aside, and he reared his head to sink his fangs into his neck. The stranger drank until his body went totally limp and fell to the earth. “Is he-?” Y/N gasped. “He was half dead anyway, darling. You saw to that”, the man said with a saucy grin. She looked at him in disdain, before checking the body. There was no doubting it, he was dead. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she demanded.

It was then that she realized that she could see him even in the darkness, so for the first time, she took a proper look at him. His attire suggested that he came from wealth, all his clothes were tailored to fit him perfectly, although his frockcoat was now spattered with blood. There was something about the way that he was staring at her that made her uneasy – he sent shivers down her spine, and it was the fact that she didn’t mind it at all disturbed her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked apprehensively. He started, as if jolted out of a daydream. “Forgive me”, he said, “I enjoy looking at beautiful things. Sometimes I get carried away.” She felt a flush creep up her face at being called beautiful. “I’m Kol Mikaelson. I’m only passing through Mystic Falls; I used to live here quite some time ago and thought I would pay a visit. May I ask you your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Salvatore,” she replied, extending a hand, which he took in his own, bringing it up to his lips to place a polite kiss, making her face heat up even more. “It is lovely to meet you, Y/N”, he said with a smile that was more disarming than she’d care to admit. “Likewise,” she said smiling back at him, although it was a short-lived one. Her brothers were still dead, their bodies lying somewhere in the woods. She couldn’t just leave them. “Is there something the matter?” he asked, seeing the sadness in her face. She nodded quietly, trying her best not to cry – her emotions were running wild. “My brothers are somewhere in this forest, dead. My father shot them dead when he found out that they were in love with a vampire, and he shot me too. I have to find their bodies, give them a proper funeral…” Her voice became thick with tears and trailed away.

Even though they had only just met, Kol couldn’t stand to see the pain on her beautiful face. Something about her drew him in in a way that he had never experienced before, made him want to care. “I’m sorry about your brothers. I’ll help you find them”, he reassured her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She couldn’t explain it, but something told her that she could trust him, that she should. So, she walked with him through the woods in their search.

They walked through the trees in the darkness for over an hour, with no luck. In that time, they talked nonstop – exchanging horror stories of evil fathers, Kol’s tales from his numerous travels abroad and rendezvous with witches, about his family and how they were the origins of every vampire in the world. There was a whole world out there that she knew nothing about, and the more she heard about it, the more she ached to see it. “So where are you going to next?” she asked him enviously. He chuckled and hummed, “I’m not sure. Perhaps New Orleans to see my brothers, or New York City. France, Italy, India. It’s entirely up to me.” He watched her longing expression and wondered how she would respond to what he was about to ask her. “Would you like to come with me?” She almost tripped over a large tree root, not having expected him to ask that at all, and gave him a bewildered look. “I could show you a world that you could never have imagined. Magic and real adventure, far beyond the likes of this town”, he said. She stammered, not knowing what to say. “I- I… don’t think that would be a good idea. This is my home. I have responsibilities here that I have to take care of.” She looked away awkwardly. There was no doubt that the offer was tempting, but how could she leave town with a man she had just met? And there was no chance that she would leave without retribution for Stefan and Damon. “We’ve been searching for at least an hour, why haven’t we found them yet?” she cried in frustration. He shook his head. “I don’t know, love. You said that they were shot, which means that there should be a strong scent of blood, but I’m not getting anything.” Suddenly, he cocked his head to one side. “I hear someone coming”, he muttered. Y/N found that when she focused, she could hear it too – the small, hurried footsteps of a woman, getting closer by the second, until she appeared before them. “Emily!” Y/N sighed in relief.

Her eyes wandered over Y/N, taking in her torn dress covered in blood and grime. “You’ve completed the transition”, she stated, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “How did you know?” she asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You need to come with me", Emily urged, “I’ll explain everything, but right now you need my help. Here, put this on, it won’t be long before the sun is up.” She handed Y/N a ring, a bulky silver band set with a large blue stone, with her initial on top in silver as well. Y/N looked at both Emily and Kol, before turning around to face him. “I must go", she said, unable to hide the regret in her voice. He took her hands in his and kissed them softly. “I understand", he said with a slight nod. “But if by chance you change your mind about my offer… meet me at the clock tower by dawn. I’ll be waiting.” She gave him a long, wistful glance before walking away, knowing that it would be the last time she saw him.

They walked with haste as Emily began to fill her in. “It was Katherine", she said, “she had me slip her blood into your afternoon coffee.” I knew that coffee tasted funny. “When you died, you woke up in transition, and you completed it when you drank human blood.” Emily explained how she had kept Katherine and all the others safe in a tomb. Y/N kept looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something about where they were going but she didn’t, so she decided to speak up. “Emily, you have to tell me what’s going on. Where are you taking me?” she implored. “You will see for yourself soon”, Emily insisted, “we are almost there.” Y/N could hear the rushing of water close by; they were nearing the falls. The closer they got, the clearer the sounds of two voices became, voices that she could recognize anywhere. No. It can’t be. She picked up her pace, almost running, until she saw them. Her brothers, very much alive.

They were arguing heatedly, but she could only hear snippets of their conversation over the sound of the water. Both of them were hardly paying attention to their surroundings until Damon finally saw her out of the corner of his eye; in that moment, everything went quiet. “Y/N?” he faltered. Her incredulous expression turned to a huge smile as she ran to them, pulling them both into a massive hug. When she finally pulled away, Stefan saw the glint of blue on her hand, and grabbed it in his, realizing the fate that had befallen his sister as well. “No”, he whispered, “how could this happen?”

“When Damon told me that you were going to save Katherine, I followed you. I saw Father shoot you, and when I confronted him, he killed me too. But then I woke up. According to Emily, Katherine slipped me her blood earlier. I think she knew that she was going to be captured today. I think she wanted to be able to see me again… someday.” Stefan balled up his fist and slammed it into his other hand. “Damn it”, he muttered, shaking his head angrily, “I don’t want this for you, Y/N.” She huffed, having expected a warmer response. “Well, I didn’t exactly ask for this”, she replied, “but what’s done is done, and we can be together now. I thought you were both dead.” She heard a low snort from Damon. “Thanks to Stefan, we are dead. In a sense.”

“What do you mean ‘thanks to Stefan’?” she asked, slightly confused. She didn’t like the look in Damon’s eyes; in fact, she had never seen him so contemptuous. “Well, sister, while you were away, Stefan was busy killing our father.” Eyes widened, she turned to her other brother in disbelief. “But that’s not all”, Damon continued, “I wasn’t going to complete the transition. I was going to let myself die, until Stefan forced me to drink from her so we could be together for eternity.” He gestured at the lifeless body that was cast to a side. “An eternity of misery, brother, starting now. I’m leaving,” he spat out, as Stefan looked down in guilt. Her attention turned back to Damon. “You’re leaving? Why? And where?” He shook his head, “I don’t know. Anywhere is better than here. Come with me, sister. We can survive this together.”

“No”, Stefan protested, shaking his head, “Mystic Falls is our home. She’d be better off staying here, with me.” And just like that the two of them were back to arguing, but this time, over which one of them would take care of her. She had had enough. “Don’t I get a say in all this?!” she burst out, silencing both of them. “Stefan, Mystic Falls will always be home. But I’m ready to see the rest of the world, and I can’t do that by staying here with you.” She saw Damon smirk out of the corner of her eye and turned to him. “But Damon, I don’t want to go with you either. I can’t choose between the two of you, so please don’t make me. Besides, I’m 18, I can make my own decisions.” Neither of them looked particularly happy, but they didn’t say anything. “I can’t live my whole life with my older brothers looking over my shoulder,” she sighed.

It took a while, but eventually both of them nodded in understanding. She wrapped her arms around Stefan, hugging him tight. “I’ll miss you, Stef”, she whispered, feeling him nod against her. “Me too. Promise me you’ll visit.”

“I promise,” she replied before turning to Damon. The anger in him was gone for a while, right now there was only concern for his sister. “I’ll be okay,” she assured him, pulling him in her embrace. “Take care of yourself, Y/N”, he said, a strange lump in his throat. “And keep in touch,” he added as she pulled away.

It was then that she noticed the faintest streaks of light appearing in the sky. Dawn was coming, fast. She started taking backward steps. “We have an eternity ahead of us. You’ll see me soon, brothers. I promise.” With that, she turned around and sped into the trees. She had an irresistible offer to take up.

There were hardly any people out on the street at this time of morning. As Kol leaned against the brick of the clock tower, he saw the sky lighten up as the sun started to rise. She wasn’t coming. Not that he had expected her to, but he felt a strange void, like he missed her already. Perhaps I’ll see her again someday, he thought as he looked up at the sky. Prepared to leave, he turned to the right, when he heard a whoosh behind him. “Leaving so soon?” It was her.

Slowly, he swung around to face her, almost nervous that it wouldn’t really be her, but it was – there she stood in her disheveled, bloodied-up glory, a stark contrast to the shy grin on her face. She watched the smile spreading on his face – a slow quirk of the lips first, then stretching from ear to ear. “You came,” he beamed. Nodding, she walked towards him. “Travelling the world with you? How could anyone turn that down?” Shrugging off his coat, he wrapped it around her to obscure the blood from view. “Such a gentleman,” she remarked, pleasantly surprised at the simple action. He chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets as they started walking together.

“So, where are we going?” she piped up, enthralled by the prospect of having the world at her fingertips. Her whole life she had been sheltered, confined to Mystic Falls and now she was truly free. Kol could see the excitement in her eyes, and he couldn’t deny that it did something to his blackened heart. “Wherever you would like to go, love,” he replied, smiling at her, “although we should probably get you into some new clothes first.”

New Orleans, 1867

“I’m nervous”, Y/N muttered, adjusting her sleeves and tugging on her skirt as they stood outside the front door of the enormous house. “Don’t be, darling. I’m positive that they’ll love you,” Kol said, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly before knocking on the door. It was only a few seconds before someone answered the door – a dark-skinned, tall young man. “Marcellus,” said Kol, a slight sardonic tone to his voice as he stepped inside, “how lovely to see you.” She got the impression that it wasn’t lovely at all, which was confirmed by the thinly stretched smile on the man’s face. “Kol,” he acknowledged, his gaze shifting to her. “You must be Y/N. I’m Marcel”, he said, offering her a hand, which she took. “Pleased to meet you, Marcel,” she replied, shaking his hand with a polite smile. Looking around, she saw all sorts of expensive and rare trinkets on the side tables. Fancy.

“Well, look who finally came to visit,” she heard from above. Looking up, she saw them on the huge staircase: two men, one blonde and one brunette, and a beautiful lady who was looking at her with what seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and kindness. A smile broke out over Kol’s face, a kind that she had never seen before, one that must be reserved for family. It made her feel good, seeing him this way. “It’s good to see all of you,” he called out as the three of them descended the stairs. She felt his grip on her hand tighten once more and gave a nervous smile. “Everyone, this is the incredible Y/N Salvatore,” Kol declared, not taking his eyes off her for a second. His voice softened. “Meet my family, love.”

Paris, 1889

“It wasn’t that impressive,” Kol scoffed as they strolled down the Champs de Mars, having just witnessed the unveiling of the Eiffel Tower. “It most certainly was!” Y/N exclaimed, shooting him a look. “Isn’t it fascinating how far mankind has come? Building something a thousand feet tall. In my books, that deserves commendation.” He watched her face as she continued to speak – he loved it when she was passionate, the way her eyes lit up and her hands moved through the air, it enchanted him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an old man a few meters ahead, hunched over a cart filled with splashes of color – flowers, which she loved. Gesturing for her to stop and stay where she was, he ran to him, and when Kol turned around again, she gasped – in his hands was a huge bouquet of red roses. “For you, love. Twenty-five roses, one for each year we have been together,” he said, giving them to her with a warm smile that just melted her heart. “They’re beautiful, Kol. Thank you,” she said, inhaling their sweet scent. “What made you buy them?” she asked bemusedly, cradling the flowers to her chest. “Well, you love flowers,” he said, reaching up to gently push a tendril of her perfectly curled hair behind her ear, “and I love you.”

Chicago, 1921

As soon as they entered Gloria’s, Kol and Y/N were hit with the sounds of raucous jazz music that made her want to dance. Despite Prohibition, the alcohol was flowing freely and the smell of it lingered in the air like a perfume. She took a glass of wine from a passing waiter with a tray and sipped. Looking around, she spotted Rebekah and Klaus in a booth. “There they are,” she pointed out, and they pushed through the crowd of dancing people to make their way towards them. “Brother!” exclaimed a clearly tipsy Klaus, pulling Kol into an embrace.

“It’s been far too long, Y/N,” Rebekah said as she kissed her on the cheek. “Tell this one to stop hiding you away.” She gestured at Kol with narrowed eyes, who simply rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, Kol,” Klaus chimed in, “we hardly see the two of you. One would almost think you were ashamed of us.” Rebekah gasped in mock horror, clutching the string of pearls around her neck. Y/N giggled, “We’re sorry. I swear, we’ll visit more often. We just get… busy a lot.” She leaned into his neck, kissing the hot skin there, pointedly moaning while Klaus and Rebekah pulled faces. “I can’t watch this, I may vomit,” Rebekah said, getting up and leaving. “Count me in,” Klaus said, his hands over his eyes as he stumbled out of his seat.

Kol looked at her, a mixture of shock and pure glee on his face. “You are one cheeky little minx,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “I thought you liked that about me,” she teased, a sparkle in her eyes. He paused for a moment, his lips an inch distance from hers and murmured, “Oh, I love it, darling,” before diving in to kiss her – slowly and softly at first, then passionate and needy, leaving her out of breath. She would never tire of his kisses. “I love you,” she said breathlessly, smiling up at him.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Havana, 1943

As the years had passed by, birthdays had come to lose meaning for Y/N, although Kol never missed the opportunity to plan something extravagant. But this year, he seemed to have actually listened to her, and kept it simple with the most romantic candlelit dinner on the beach, one of her favorite places to be. There was no one there with them except the stars in the sky, the salty breeze and the waves crashing on the shore – it was perfect. “Dance with me?” he asked her, a shy smile on his face.

She giggled and took his hand, getting out of her seat. There was no music, but they didn’t need any. He kept one hand on the small of her back, holding her close, and the other hand entwined in hers. They swayed from side to side, simply enjoying the warmth that they brought each other. “Making that stop at Mystic Falls in 1864 was by far the best decision I’ve ever made,” he whispered into her ear. She chuckled, resting her head on his chest, “And deciding to get the hell out of there with you was the best decision I’ve ever made. You’ve shown me a whole world that I never knew existed.” Unexpectedly, he twirled her around, once, twice, thrice, and let go – the melody of her laugh rang through the air as for just a moment, it felt like she was flying. But when she turned to face him again, he was on one knee, holding up a tiny box with a ring in it.

Her jaw practically dropped to the floor – she never thought she’d see this day. “Y/N,” he said, a smile spreading over his face, “you are the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. The very first day I met you, I knew you were special when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t ever want to stop thinking about you. We’ve been together for so long now, but its still not enough. I want forever with you, love.” She put a hand over her chest, physically feeling the emotion welling up there. “I know we can’t really get married,” he said with a light chuckle, “but I was hoping you would wear this ring.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him on the cold sand as he pulled the ring out of the box. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she caught sight of a diamond, faintly glistening in the light of the moon, set in a white gold band and surrounded by smaller diamonds. “Its beautiful,” she whispered, gazing at it and then at Kol. “What do you say, love?” he asked, looking hopeful.

She nodded furiously, smiling like a madwoman, “Yes, of course!” He couldn’t suppress the grin on his face even if he tried, as he took her left hand and slipped the ring on her ring finger – it fit perfectly. She leaned in to kiss him, a soft peck, and then everything fell into motion – her hands around his neck and his arms wrapping around her body pulling her flush against his, deepening the kiss. Her heart raced as his lips seared her skin, and her knees grew weak when his fingers curled around her hair. Every ragged breath she took smelled like him and it was inebriating. For those moments, time stopped, and there was no one in the world but them. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips, his hands cupping the sides of her face, foreheads touching gently. “I love you, Kol.” They finally pulled away slightly, catching their breath.

“So,” she teased, wagging her ring finger at him, “does this make me a Mikaelson now?”

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #reader insert

271 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hope you're doing great Dani.

I talked to you about a month or two ago, about how I was about to take the university entrance exam, how I was not ready for it, that my parents wanted me to become a doctor but never knew what I was going through. That I was confused and I didn't know what I wanted to do, cause I thought I wouldn't enjoy medicine even if I get in. I literally didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.

You were kind enough to answer me patiently, and for that I'm really thankful to you. I came here to say, your words, helped me to get through a tough time.

I told you I didn't know what I wanted to do. And because I didn't have a purpose, I could put all of my efforts into studying. I was always a good student, but recently, it was like I had lost myself through the road.

I thought about your words, and recently came to conclusion that you were right. This is me. This is my life. And this is all I have right now. I was so stressed, because I didn't know what I wanted, but I know now, and it means even if I can't do as well as I should at the entrance exam, I can always find other ways, or try again and understood that I love law. And being a lawyer. When I was 4 years younger, I told this to my parents, but they simply said it was because of the books I read and not because it was what I really wanted. Cause obviously, being a doctor should be what I wanted. And I believed them.

It may seem stupid, or may not, but books always helped me. And reading your IWFY fic, it was like my love for law and being a lawyer came back to me. I thought you should know how great your writing is. I understood what Magnus wanted to do was what I always wanted to do at heart. And yeah, maybe it IS a fantasy, and I can't be as good as him or have an Alec with me who helps me through everything, but I guess I'm willing to try. Cause I want to fight for women rights, help the innocent win what is their rights. I want to make a change. It's ideologist, I know, but I guess I would regret it if I don't follow my dreams today.

I kinda found out about all of a little late, you know? If I had found out about what I truly wanted sooner, I could find my purpose sooner and focus on my studying better. But I'm not upset. I'm still just 18 and have a lot of time. And it's always better to face the reality, however late, than to live a lie.

So regardless of the result of my entrance exam for medicine schools, I WILL follow studying law, it what I want. I know it now. But at the same time, I've always wanted my parents proud, I told you about it before. You told me I don't owe anyone, not even them. But I guess I can't change everything that I've been taught from the beginning in a short time, so, maybe one day, I get there.

For now, their opinion still matters, so I'm gonna do all I have for the exam- which is next week btw- and if I got accepted, I will be studying both of them. I asked around and they told me it's possible so I'm not gonna sit down and let it go! I will study both of them till the day I decide which is more important to me, but I guess they won't come for a long time.

Finding out my interest in law, was like finding out a missing puzzle. I've always been told I was never hardworking enough for achieving my dreams. That everything I got was because I was lucky enough to have a smart brain. But now I understood I was never hardworking enough, because they were not MY dreams. They were other's dreams for me. And I get it, doctors mostly have a good life, and that's what my parents want for me. But I know what I need to be happy, and that's a purpose. And now I found it, and it was an amazing feeling. To think that, yes, this is it. I have found what I've always wanted to do with my life.

So, sorry again for my LONG rant, but I thought you deserve to know how much of a help you have been to someone you don't even know. And it shows how much amazing your words are. You're so kind, please never change!

And please, thanks @magnus-the-maqnificent in my behalf, she offered to speak to after my last comment, she said she was in the same situation, but I was so lost that I didn't really have the heart to do it. And now I'm kind of busy because of the next week exam, but I want her to know I really appreciate her kindness, thank you all.

PS. When I become a lawyer one day, I'm gonna print your IWFY book, and keep it in my office. Cause it means a lot to me. Thank you again! Have a great day!!!

I am so so so proud of you. I literally don't have the words to tell you how proud of you I am.

You are in the right path, my love. You have got your shit under control. And that is fucking amazing. So proud!

I get that there are many hurdles to cross. But you know who you are, even if others don't and other's might not understand. But you know it. I feel like that solves half the problems. The clarity helps. It helps so much. I am so glad you have it now.

It is NOT late for you. I work as an gender and sexuality advocate now. But I had no fucking clue that's what I wanted to do until I was 19 years old. But I figured it out and then followed that dream.

Every day I learn a little more about myself and the dreams I have keep changing. It's a not bad thing. It's a part of being human. Wanting better things and wanting to change is what we do as human beings.

It's never late to pursue the things that make you happy. Remember that. Always.

I know you want to make your make your parents proud. I do so too. Sometimes I feel like it's a biological need that we have. The need for their validation? The need to make them proud?

But remember that pride is a feeling. You can give them that feeling in more than one way. If you want to make them proud, make them proud. That's a good thing. But just remember that being a doctor is not the only way to do that. What they want is success and there is more than one way to be successful.

If this is your destiny, I wish you all the best with it. Gender law/discrimiantion law/women's law is one of the best fields out there. If you need help with this (since I work in a similar background) you know where to find me.

I know you are a good student and you will do amazingly. But take it easy. You don't have to decide now. You don't have to figure out which path you want to follow right away. I think it's very sensible of you to test both and make your decision later. Just don't push yourself too hard. Always go easy on yourself, cause no one else will make it a priority.

Finally.

Oh, my love. My heart is so full that IWFY Magnus helped you so much. He is such a beautiful man - just like Magnus in any universe. He has inspired me so many times. I've always been inspired by his kindness, his need to do better and be better.

He doesn't settle. Not for Alec. Not for anyone. Magnus knows his worth.

That's what I want for myself. To know my worth.

And that's what I want for you too.

I don't what you are going to decide or what you are going to do. But I know one thing.

You might not know whether you want to be a lawyer or a doctor.

But it is so clear to me that you want to use your knowledge, your strength and your skills to help those around you.

You want to be useful. You want to make the world a little better. Just like Magnus does. Just like I do.

Here is the thing - there is no right way to do that. You do what you can and hope it makes the world a little better.

There is a different between what you are and who you are.

What you are - whether a doctor or a lawyer - can change with time.

But who are you doesn't change.

And who you are is a good fucking person.

Good luck with your exams.

Sending you all my love,

Dani x.

#support #love #iwfy #I am the most emo I have ever been ;)

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selenitawars · 3 years

Text

Pressentimento

Never Be The Same - Part 7.

Pairing: Sam x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Niece!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader.

Summary: To save Dean’s life, Sam changes a big part of his past, hoping that he’d only forget memories with his college girlfriend. But, not only he changes his life, he also creates a new one.

Word Count: 2332.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Yes, I’m back after over a year and a half. I know I’m a dumbass for making y’all wait for so long, but, honestly, I want this to be a fun writing, so I try not to pressure myself. Won’t make promises. Either way, always love to know your opinions. Hope you enjoy this comeback haha!

Pressentimento masculine noun 1. act of feeling in advance, more through emotion than reason, the occurrence of a future fact; suspicion. "I have a p. that this will not work" 2. knowledge of what will happen, obtained by intuition; forecast, hunch, omen.

You still hadn't explained everything to your father nor your uncle. Cas remembered one of the episodes that occurred with you when you were younger, around ten or so. It was hard for you. Every time you tried to explain yourself, things were hard to explain. All the time, something blocked you from exposing the fear inside you, the fear of letting things out.

The way their "new" memories came to them didn't help. It was so unpredictable. Cas remembered you praying first and then, mixed memories, tiny ones, which made him assume a lot about you already; and worry as well. Dean remembered more, like the time Sam was soulless and you lived with him for months, you concluded he was remembering things by the impact they had in his life. As for Sam, well, apparently things were coming more chronologically for him, but a little late, since he also had a lot of Camila to remember.

You tried to think how to talk to them about your crisis. The big ones. It was so complicated. When it started happening, you had your godmother to help with calming down and understanding how sensible you were; but even Vanessa had to talk with the Winchesters to fully understand what made you so much stronger and sensitive. Anyway, she wouldn't help you now that she was in the list of people to whom you never existed.

Oh, and your mother...

Looking at pictures of her nowadays became an addiction. You couldn't sleep before searching a little more about her, not that you've been having much sleep or any of this helped. You wish so bad you could talk to her. And now that Sam told ya you reminded him so much of Camila, you really studied her, trying to find the resemblance.

How would you tell them there's more? More of you to worry. You wanted to wait for a time when the memories hangovers weren't so heavy on them. They were all trying to act normal, but it was obvious - you've never been at home for this long, they were never so quiet. Dean wasn't even drinking, to make sure he wouldn't be more confused.

You were lying down on your bed, trying to ease the headache. It was normal to have a day just to be tired, but after the all day just resting you still got a headache by night. Went to get a pill to make it better and when you swallow it, you realize something.

"I don't exist." You whisper to yourself.

For the first time in that day, you felt useful. Even with the headache, you got in front of the computer and started to do your thing. For some reason you got happy when you confirmed your theory.

"I was never born."

"You gotta stop thinking about that." Dean warned you.

"No, I mean... I don't exist."

The three men stared at you with confusion, you repeated.

"I don't exist."

Still nothing. The room was filled with silence while you hoped for the clicking in their minds. It never came. You sighed.

"I never existed! Never did anything!"

Sam looked at you like he was starting to worry, while holding a bowl with cereal. Just like Dean, who chewed his, probably thinking you've gone crazy.

"I don't understand why you're so excited saying it." Cas finally said.

"Isn't it obvious?" They once more, didn't react. "There are no records of me, at all. Nobody knows about me. I only left the bunker once."

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"We should keep it that way."

"What? Why?" The brothers said together.

"Well, if nobody knows I'm here, we're in advantage. It's always good to have a secret backup, right?"

"Like... as a surprise element?" Castiel suggested, you nodded. "Y/N, you don't truly expect us to treat you like a secret weapon..."

"Hell no." Dean agreed.

"It's not like it."

"Well, I don't see your point." You father stated. "I know this seems messed up, but, we can fix it. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm thinking!" You made them quiet. "C'mon, think with me: I barely left the bunker, how could anyone know about me?"

"We know about you." Dean answered.

"But you've seen me. And your memories, are just yours, this doesn't mean the world knows about me."

"Ok, but you'll need to use an ID sometime. Or will you live forever here, inside the bunker?"

"Dean, you should know it's easier to make a fake ID look real if there isn't a real one to prove the fake one as fake."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Ok, so we leave it as it is. How much long do you think it would last?"

"Not much, I know. But at least, for a while it could be useful."

"I don't see how, Y/N. I'm not using you as my secret-spy-soldier or whatever."

"Sam is right. It's not worth it."

"Castiel?" You looked at him, only to find the agreeing look. You looked down.

"Look, how can you be sure nobody else remembers you?" The angel tried to clear your mind.

"For most people I know, I never happened. And the others, will probably only remember me when they see me, if they do. Until then..."

"That's not right." Sam interrupted. "I had this feeling about you, before we arrived on that day; like I left something behind, but I couldn't remember why."

"So did I."

"I got one your prayers for not getting news from us." You stood there, silent.

"That's it? A feeling you forgot something?!" You left for your bedroom, a little ofended they didn't listen to you. Your idea was good, logical. You genuinely thought they would see it as a good thing out of all this.

Reflecting on it, you finally notice: you may not know your family as well as before. At first it sounds crazy, but this is all crazy, ain't it? And after doing their exercise for a couple hours, thinking about your childhood, the events that crossed it and when it all began, you got yourself some questions.

You fell asleep while still thinking, trying to find logic somewhere and always getting to the same point, a lost point. Somehow while sleeping, you had no dreams, didn't wake up once; not even the fact that you were with a jacket bothered you.

"Hey, man. You good?" Dean noticed Sam squeeze his eyes.

"Yep. Just those flashbacks. I hate to have them by day, but I can't sleep no longer."

"Like a constant hangover, thank God it's not a heavy one." Sam did not answer. "Sam?"

"Right..." Sam stared at the floor, seeing stuff in his mind. He blinked multiple times after a little.

"You all right? You seem shocked. What did you remember?"

"It's just... Y/N's suggestion."

"Dude, that was today."

"Very funny!" Dean smiled a little to ease his brother. "It got me thinking. Why would she want that?"

"Honestly," Castiel entered suddenly. "I think she is trying to get something good out of this."

"Good? I see her point, but..."

"Not good." Cas interrupted, correcting himself. "Useful, at least."

"It's not as useful as she thinks." Dean says as if it's obvious.

"It's the only thing she has to offer." Castiel putted it in a weird way, but made sense. They silented for an instant. "Still, how does that has to do with your flashback, Sam?"

"I thought that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe there was a point."

"You, Sammy, considered the possibility of being saved by her?"

"Obviously not. I wondered: what if her non-existence helped her get away from this craziness. Like, she could get to any school if we put some effort."

"You concluded it fast." Cas commented.

"Well, yeah. Then I... questioned." Sam felt the gazes at him. "How did she get dragged into hunting in the first place? Why did I not stop it? And one more thing popped up: why did I leave college?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean couldn't understand his brother.

"Dean, if it wasn't for my anger towards Jessica's death, who knows..." He explained. "So why I left Stanford, making Camila stay behind and after weeks drop out too?"

Castiel took a seat.

"Why did you?"

Sam opened the door, showly. You were in your bed, far from his atmosphere, enjoying a rest you needed. He passed the door carefully, took a look at your room and turned the lights off. Ever since that hunt days ago, when he saw you sleep at the motel bed while he was reading about the case, the day he woke up before you and as you slept in the car coming back home, Sam felt peace as he watched you.

It was the moment he could breath easily and a little relaxed. You were resting, next to him, nothing could hurt you in your sleep. There, you were safe and wasn't leaving soon. So he couldn't help watch you once more; just stood by the door for a couple seconds, smiled at the taught of you having a break from this madness for some hours. Grabbed the door and heard your move, turning to check if he had woken ya.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Your voice sounded lazy. "I have a light sleep."

"So do I." You nodded. You knew it. He regrets commenting it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me." He understood you couldn't sleep anymore.

"You don't want to talk now."

"It's about earlier, I know." You said while rubbing your eyes. "Just spit it." He gave in and sat in your chair.

"Why do you wanna do it?"

"Why don't you?"

"Why would I?"

"You've always wanted this." He gulped.

"What? No!"

"You never wanted me to be in risk, you hated the fact I made you all vulnerable, now nobody knows I'm here. I know this isn't permanent and things can change, but for now, you could finally be at peace. Nobody knows me, none of you have to worry."

Samuel digested everything you said and got his answer prepared fastly enough.

"For a long time I asked myself if Jessica never died, would I be here? And you know, as things turned out to be, as I found out more and more throughout the years I got the answer." He paused. "I would. Because if it wasn't Jess, it would be Dean or dad, or a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"I left college for revenge." You got surprised. "It wasn't Jess. Not anymore." That sounded weird. "I made a choice and I know now that somehow, at some point, no matter how many times... I would make that choice again. As soon as somebody I care about got in danger. So I left college. For you."

Sam got back from his first hunt after two years. Camila was waiting. They talked and she was serious when she told him to call Dean. Leave as soon as he could. She said she had a bad feeling, he had to find his father. Was something repentine, fast and clear - the fear in her voice stopped Sam from questioning.

"The way she talked to me... her eyes, getting sudden tears. At first I tried to calm her, jokes on me, I blamed her hormones. Camila proved me wrong. I knew she had that sometimes, like with tests or bad decisions, maybe something simple like knowing staying in was better than going to a party. She was always right. If not totally right, fast enough to avoid regret." He looked down as her voice came to his head and repeated her words. "'This is your family we're talking about, Samuel! Your child's grandfather.' She screamed. I was scared." You two laughed a little. "She begged. Aggressively. But, I didn't leave because she did."

"Why then?"

"I called Dean to get back there and pick me up because once we talked, I got that bad feeling too. And was suddenly afraid. Afraid something would happen to either of you." You stayed silent. "I hoped things would be more simple, soon I'd be back and things would go back to normal. You would be born and grow up, normal. We would be a family..."

"Please, don't say normal." He smiled.

"Your mother's bad feeling... I don't know what is was about exactly. She got scared too in that moment and it was the only time I saw her that scared. But I know that mine became true. Only, it was even worse. There was no blame. Of all things that happened in those months, how worried I was with my father, you, Camila and even Dean... The hunts, the confusion and overwhelming information all at once. The fear. Your mother's death was the most sudden and painful." You saw a tear run down his cheek, followed by a couple more. Sam had more to say but you spoke before, in the heat of the moment.

"She knew." He looked back at you, now with red eyes. "I think she knew something bad was going to happen."

"She knew we would be in danger." By we, he meant himself, his uncle and your grandpa.

"No. Not that. She knew that something terrible was happening already and would get worse. But she didn't tell you to go to stop it." His tears froze, lost in your words. "Like you said. Camila was always right about this bad feelings. She was certain." You were sure thanks to your own experience with it.

"About Dean needing me more than her?" You denied.

"About you needing the rest of your family once I was born."

#sam x daughter!reader #dean x niece!reader #castiel x platonic!reader #sam x daughter au #dean x niece au #castiel x platonic au #dad!sam winchester #uncle!dean winchester #uncle!castiel #winchester!reader #winchester!daughter #sam winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x niece!reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural au

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whereflowersbloom · 3 years

Text

Father by accident

Richard Grayson had everything any man could want, a stable and well remunerated job at Wayne Enterprises, working with his adoptive father: Bruce Wayne, a deluxe and splendid apartment with a premier location at The Arch building, his black new flying spur Bentley, more money than he could spend. Yes, Dick Grayson had everything, except for a romantic relationship and happiness. Something was missing and he had no idea what it was. When Richard Grayson arrived in the Land of the Thunder Dragon just about four days before, it never crossed his mind, never in his wildest, irrational thoughts it occurred to him, his life would be completely turned around by adopting a baby. A baby, he found during his morning run, let alone while he was in a business trip in a foreign country.

Dick Grayson was in Thimphu, Bhutan for work, closing a deal with NGN Technologies, representing Wayne Enterprises, technically he was accompanying Tim, his adoptive youngest brother, a prodigy gifted with an inherent business sense and unbeatable instinct, who was in charge of handling the negotiations, reaching an agreement. He was only here to supervise the details and clear his mind, after his recent breakup with Barbara Gordon. Dick would always pretend that he’s fine, after his breakup with Barbara, and that he’s moved on already. But of course, Tim knew better than that, not mentioning anything about women or the name Barbara.

There were minor specifications to arrange before signing the contract, though it shouldn’t take more than a day or two, knowing Tim. He wasn’t too strict with the schedule and let Dick have free time to explore the foreign land. Bhutan. Thimphu, it was a rather small city for a capital. It had several great hikes and fertile valleys, with green and tall trees, blue rivers and mountains spread south-north along river Thimphu Chu, offering a breathtaking view.

Dick decided to start his day with his usual morning run, to stretch his aching muscles.

He quickly acclimated to the cold weather of the Bhutanese capital. January may be the coldest month of the year, but the stunning Himalayan scenery and the bright clear days made it worth it. He also learned rapidly the paths and ways of the city so he wouldn’t need to look at a map or his phone while on his run, thanks to Bruce who taught to be prepared for anything. Nonetheless, nothing could have Prepared him for the enormous surprise awaiting him that particular morning. On the fifth day of their stay in Bhutan, he could practically move around the city without looking at street signs or maps. Perks of being a fast learner. He easily acclimated to his route, and he figured it was easy enough to remember anyway.

Dzong Park’s entrance was beautifully decorated, soft-fallen snow graced the walls and the buthan cypress trees, hues of blue and purple which were gently brushing unto white reigned winter tim, atmosphere calm and peaceful, but it was practically empty especially at six in the morning. There was hardly any sound. He’d been running through the park for the past three days though, so it’s not like this surprised him anymore considering the icy winds.

When Richard goes on running, he usually wears earphones, however he has opted to not use them and enjoy the quietude of the park. And he supposed it was lucky he didn’t, because while he was on his run, he was interrupted when he heard a small cry.

The northern wind rustled his hair gently, whispering, trying to tell him something, and that was the moment his life completely.

He stopped, momentarily shocked by the noise, looking around for the source of the sound. The park was undeniably empty. No one was supposed to be there, but the small cries persisted. Then he decided to close his eye and concentrate on the direction of said sound, in order to follow it, because even anywhere, he could recognize that unmistakable sound, and when he finally found the source of the incessant cries, he was both grateful and regretful at the same time that he did. Grateful in a sense of ‘Thank god, this baby wouldn’t have survived another hour on this place’, it was cold and frosty, and regretful in a sense because then, Richard had the responsibility of having to take care of how to go about it.

Richard Grayson had no idea what to do, utterly dumbfounded. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, when he looked at the source of the small cries that interrupted his morning run. A baby wrapped in a light green blanket was in a woven basket, and the baby was crying loudly. He knelt down and saw a piece of paper sticking out of its blanket, and when he took it to read it, it was in a language he assumed was similar to Chinese.

The air was so cold and damp that the chill reached deep into the young man and clung to his bones. What was he supposed to do? A baby. Oh mighty Lord.

Right then, he had a choice: he could leave, and proceed with his morning run and pretend he never noticed the baby at all. That was a complete lie. He could never leave an abandoned baby on his own. Bruce had taken him in after the unfortunate death of both his parents, how could he give his back to a baby who could possibly be in the same position. His other choice, a more sensible and reasonable option: he could call authorities and risk being late at meeting before signing the contract, because dealing with the officials who will be asking about how he found the baby, he figured would take more than a few hours, or who might have left the baby, and he doesn’t exactly speak Chinese or this strange language they spoke in the land of the Thunder dragon. What had Tim called it, Dzongka? He didn’t speak it. At all.

Not wasting any more time, he pulled his phone out and dialed a familiar number.

“I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. This better be important, Dick.” A sleepy voice responded on the line. His earlier anxiety did not fade, contrary, it increased.

Swallowing hard, Dick turned his attention back to the baby in the basket. “Hey Timbo, I need your help.” He began nervously as he ruffled dark locks, the baby’s cries seemed to have quietened down when it saw another human’s presence. He couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. Don’t get attached, Richard. He faltered, worry tightening his features. “Do you speak Chinese or Dzongka? Whatever language they speak in this country.”

“Bold of you to assume Bruce would send me on a business negotiation trip unready.” Tim answered and Dick rolled his eyes at his sarcastic comment. His younger brother took a deep breath before he continued speaking. “I had enough time to get familiar with the language, but I cannot say confidently I speak it fluidly. Why? Please don’t tell me you got into trouble and you need me to speak with Bhutanese officers.”

Silence. Dick remained quiet, obviously at a loss for words.

Weighting the words in his mind, Richard mustered courage to explain the rare situation. “No. I’m in Dzong park, out for a morning run, as usual.” He paused to lick his lips. “But I found an abandoned baby while I was running.”

“You what? ” Tim incredulously asked, not sure he had heard the right word, and Dick heard the sound of liquid spilling on the other end of the line, so he figured the shock must have made Tim spill his precious coffee. “I’m sorry, did you say you found a what?”

“A baby.” Dick repeated.

“That’s what I thought.” Tim said still stupefied and Dick let out a weary sigh, wondering what would get Tim to snap out of it. “Caffeine isn’t damaging my hearing. A baby?” He asked in absolute bewilderment.

Which part of baby was too complicated for Timothy Jackson Drake, the genius Wayne heir, to comprehend.

“Yes. A baby, Tim.” Dick said in as gentle a tone as he can muster, blue eyes glued to the small baby.

“You mean...as in a Homo Sapiens offspring?” Tim faltered on the words as he struggled to calculate the probability of an scenario where his adoptive older brother came across an abandoned baby while running.

Dick snapped, feeling a bit exasperated himself. “Tim, I seriously need your help with this problem. But, yes, a real, breathing tiny human.” He exclaimed impatiently, raising his voice, tone nearly dry as he answered Tim’s question.

“Where are you?” Regaining composure while processing the information, Tim asked for his brother’s whereabouts, feeling the very beginning of a headache brewing, pulsing sharply at his temples. Cursing quietly as he got dressed in a rush.

“Dzong park. Listen, use my tracker to find me. I’m about four miles from the hotel we are staying in.” Bouncing on the tips of his toes, Richard couldn’t seem to stay still, hot Adrenaline rushing through his veins.

A few breathy grunts were all that heralded Tim’s distress at the unexpected event. “I’ll call the authorities. Dick, stay exactly where you are. We are already tangled in this mess, and mess was not in the agenda.” His brother hung up before Dick could assure him he wouldn’t go anywhere without the baby not until the authorities arrived at least.

But Dick took a single look at the small baby, who had opened his almond-shaped eyes, the baby was a boy, with bright green eyes resembling emeralds, open wide and looking at him. Dick was immediately captivated. He adjusted the blanket and found that the baby’s hair was as dark as the night, naturally tanned skin that appeared to have been kissed by the sun itself. He was perfect. This child was the cutest little thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

And something, something he couldn’t put into words tugged in his heart. It would hurt like hell to let go of his child. Let go of something that was not his. It would tear out his heart, his bones if he let anything happen to this baby boy.

Looking at him closely, he would be about two months old, maybe, and he looked healthy and well-fed. Did his mother have a change of heart and left him here alone? He grabbed the note once again and started at it, inspected it, hoped that any English translation would be present below the Strange writing. There was only one word he could find to translate with the help of his smartphone. Damian.

A cold wind passed and the baby shivered slightly, in that moment Richard took the baby in his arms, wrapping the soft blanket around the baby’s body again, protecting his fragile body from the gelid breeze as his cheeks turned lightly pink.

Dick felt a connection, one he couldn’t quite explain, but it was there, and it’s connecting him to the baby. No. Damian. Damian was what was missing.

This is a WIP I comptely forgot about but here’s. Chapter kinda??

Single dad Dick Grayson, raising baby Damian 👀👀

@sofiii @wingedskyes @chromium7sky @deepbreadlover

#batfamily #dickbabs #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #batsiblings #batbros #batman universe #alfred pennyworth #dc fandom #dc universe #dc comics #creative writing #batfam fanfic

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sinfulshelbys · 4 years

Text

Euphoria | shelby! reader

Isaiah Jesus x Shelby! Reader

summary: in which Isaiah Jesus and Y/N Shelby pretend to be nothing more than friends with benefits, leading to complications and tense feelings

warnings: smut, swearing, jealous! isaiah, jealous! reader, idiots in love

word count: 3k

Nothing goes on within the walls of Polly Gray’s house without her knowledge.

This saying has held true for years, all the Shelby siblings often using it as a way of teasing their aunt – yourself included. From the time that she somehow knew that it was you and John who had taken all Tommy’s left shoe’s and right socks to the moment that Finn and you had hidden a stray kitten in a box under your bed – she knew it all.

Which is why you were surprised that Polly hadn’t noticed what was going on between you and your best friend, Isaiah. In fact, it had been your brother Finn who was the first one to find out about the thing going on with the pair of you.

He had caught the boy trying to sneak out of your window when he opened his to let the smoke from his cigarette out; instantly rushing into your room.

“Isaiah, what the fuck are you doing?” Finn whisper-yelled, swinging your door open – your eyes widening when you turned to see your brother.

With one leg out of the window and his hands hastily buttoning up his shirt, Isaiah looked equally as shocked as you as he tried to form a satisfying response, for the youngest Shelby as to why he was in his sisters room.

“Finn, funny you joined us,” his smooth voice wavered as Finn rolled his eyes, before pointing between the two of you.

“Are you guys fucking?”

Wrapping your robe tighter around your naked frame, you ran a hand hastily through your matted hair – Finn’s jaw dropping at the sight of the markings that littered your collar bone from where your robe slipped.

“Jesus christ,” he snickered, trying to stop his laughter. “Why hasn’t aunt Pol told us?”

Shrugging, you let out a sigh before pinching your brothers bicep.

“Because aunt Pol surprisingly doesn’t know,” you rolled your eyes, before gesturing for Finn to leave. “Don’t you dare fucking tell her either Finn or I’ll dob you in for stealing all her scones.”

From that moment on, Finn had helped you and Isaiah hide your hookups.

If Isaiah stayed over, he would tell everybody that they had a boys night or if the pair of you accidentally slipped up and let your hands linger a bit too long on one another, Finn would take one for the team and embarrass himself.

However, every time he asked if you were together you would immediately deny it – it’s complicated, was all you said.

Because it was complicated after all, you and Isaiah weren’t in a doting relationship; you fucked and that was it. And while there are numerous things wrong with having your best friends head between your thighs, you couldn’t find yourself to care.

Isaiah ate you out like you were the last meal he was ever going to taste, his head covered by your skirt as you were perched upon your desk – papers thrown carelessly across the floor in your haste to have each other like this. Sensually.

“Isaiah,” you gasped – his name barely leaving your lips. You were close, oh so close, and he knew it. Suddenly his fingers were in you, adding to the feeling of his tongue swirling on your clit and you exploded – hands barely being able to keep your body upright.

Trying to even out your breathing as Isaiah pulled himself up off his knees, you finally came face-to-face with the smug boy. You watched as he sucked on his fingers that were covered in your juices – a soft whine leaving your throat at the erotic sight.

“I‘m going to fuck you over this desk one day,” his voice was deep, filled with lust as he caged you between his arms on either side of you. “Bend you over and just completely ruin you.”

“Shit,” was all you could say to his words, eyes fluttering shut as his hands made their way under your skirt to run up and down your thighs – he lowly chuckled at the pathetic state you were in.

Before things could become heated again, a knock at your door startled you both – Isaiah quickly pulling away to round the other side of your desk as you hopped down, straightening yourself out as best as you could.

“Who is it?” You called, only to hear John’s voice yell back asking if he could enter; which you agreed to.

“Hey, we’re about to leave for the Garrison, you coming?” Your brother beamed, before looking at Isaiah who was sitting on the chair opposite you. “Isaiah, what the bloody hell are you doing in here?”

Before Isaiah could respond, you interjected, “asking me the same thing you were Johnny boy,” – you were becoming too comfortable with lying.

“Alright,” John pretended to not notice that your panties that were in a heap on the floor next to Isaiah’s coat that he had forgotten to put back on, or the disastrous state the office was in. “We’ll c’mon you two, let’s go.”

Nodding, you told John to give you both a minute, the boy shaking his head fondly before shutting the door. Staring at Isaiah, you quickly reached to the floor; grabbing his coat and tossing it at him before hastily pulling on your panties.

Walking towards the door, you turned towards Isaiah who was still sitting with his coat on his lap.

“Well,” you trailed, causing the boy to look at you. “You coming or not?”

~~~~~~~~~

Jealousy was a funny thing to Isaiah.

He loved to make fun of John Shelby when the boy would drop everything to stop some daft man who thought it was a good idea to flirt with Esme or relentlessly teased Arthur for being “whipped,” every time the eldest Shelby stormed over to his wife, Linda, who was being sent one too many drinks from the grimy men at the bar.

He just never thought he would feel that way – especially, because the two of you agreed that what you were doing was purely for fun and nothing else.

Swallowing the bitter whiskey on the tip of his tongue, Isaiah watched as you chatted to the man who sat on the stall next to you at the bar. The Garrison was loud and full of life, but Isaiah swore that all he could hear was the sound of his racing heart as his eyes locked on you.

His jaw tensed as you put your dainty hand on the business mans arm, laughing at something he had said. He was good for you, Isaiah told himself – you needed someone who wasn’t rough around the edges and the brown haired man beside you seemed to be just that.

Pouring himself another drink, Isaiah turned his attention back to Michael who was explaining some drunken theory to his cousins, pretending to laugh along with whatever drunken words that were spilling from his best friends lips. But he soon felt his attention slipping towards where he last saw you; only to find you and the man gone.

Perking his head up to see past the multitude of bodies in the Garrison, Isaiah couldn’t find you anywhere and he felt his head leap with the realisation that you must’ve left with Mr. Goody-two-shoes.

So with a scoff he grabbed the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself another glass and downing it in one go before slumping back in his seat.

He shouldn’t care about what, or who, you did – you guys weren’t together, but he couldn’t fucking help the way his stomach was doing flips at the idea of another mans hands touching you places that only his touched hours before, or the idea that he wasn’t the only one to hear your moans, or see the way your face glowed when you reached bliss.

He couldn’t help that he was pathetically in love with you – or that you didn’t feel the same. So he did the only thing that seemed sensible in the moment, but he would regret once it was over.

She was pretty, but she wasn’t you.

~~~~~~~~~

You hated to admit when your brothers were right – especially Finn.

In fact, the only sibling that you would ever allow to be right was Ada; the girl always being full of wisdom and advice to provide you when she was.

But here you were, sitting across the coffee table in the living room – Finn and you in a heated game of chess when he hit you with the question that you were trying to ignore.

“Do you love him?”

It should’ve been a simple question with a simple answer, instead your hand dropped your chess piece, head darting up to your brother who was watching your struggle with amusement.

“Love who?” You recovered, picking your piece up before moving it across the board. Finn only let out an annoyed groan, pushing the game aside to get your full attention.

“You fucking know who,” his response was short and snappy. “Do you love Isaiah?”

Pinching the bridge of you nose – an action that you had been told one too many times by your aunt that it reminded her of Tommy – you leaned back against the couch behind you, arms raising in the air in frustration.

“No, maybe – I don’t fucking know Finn, it’s–.”

“Complicated.” He rolled his eyes, picking up a pawn from the board before tossed it at you. “It’s only complicated because you’re both making it that way.”

Remaining quiet, you fiddled with the piece that landed in your lap before throwing it back at your brother who quickly dodged it before it hit his cheek.

Finn sighed, he wasn’t one to get involved in your business – it was just the way you two worked since you were younger – but he couldn’t help himself in this instance, knowing that if he didn’t give you a push both you and Isaiah were going to end up hating each other and he wasn’t ever going to let that happen.

“Look, Isaiah loves you. Don’t ask how I know or deny it – because he fucking does. He couldn’t take his eyes off you last night, it was like he was hypnotised by you; couldn’t get his fucking attention. But he saw you with the man you were talking to and was obviously jealous, and when you both disappeared – let’s just say he made a stupid mistake.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked towards the freckled boy in-front of you. “What kind of mistake?”

“The kind that involves a whole bottle of whiskey and a pretty brunette.”

“Shit.”

Another girl. Isaiah was with another girl last night while you were wide awake in bed waiting for him. His hands were on her, lips kissing hers instead of yours – touched her like he had touched you a thousand times. It hit you like a ton of bricks as you felt your heart break at the idea.

“Holy shit, Finn,” you let out a shaky breath, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I’m in love with Isaiah fucking Jesus.”

~~~~~~~~~

No strings. That was the one rule you had both agreed upon when you started sleeping together. No fucking strings.

“Don’t fall in love with me, Isaiah Jesus,” you had specifically told him, Isaiah instantly agreeing; sarcastically replying as he undressed you.

“As long as you don’t fall in love with me, Y/N Shelby.”

But here you were, pacing back and forth in your room as you waited for Isaiah to let himself in after his meeting with Tommy. Your hands clenched and unclenched about a hundred times in the last forty-seconds, nerves rattling through every cell in your body at what you were about to admit to Isaiah.

Hearing a soft knock at your door, you instantly knew it was him – the timid boy pushing your door open, looking behind him to make sure none of your family were around before walking in.

Before he could say anything, your words fell from your mouth – everything you wanted to ask coming out all at once. “You were with another girl?”

“I- fucking what?” He spluttered, slightly stunned at your question that sounded more like a statement.

“Were you with another girl?” You repeated.

Still slightly stunned, Isaiah watched as you ran a shaky hand through your hair, his eyes noticing the small crescent moons on your palms from your nails, it was obvious that the idea of him with someone else made you stressed.

Instead of denying it, Isaiah only became defensive. “Well, you were with another guy!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Groaning, Isaiah walked over to you bed – taking a seat on the edge before patting the space beside him as a signal for you to join him. He waited until you were comfortable before facing you – figuring that there was no point in this resulting in an argument that would definitely gain your families attention.

“That guy at the bar that you were talking to,” Isaiah began, vulnerability creeping into his tone. “You left together and I-”

“Whoah hold on,” you cut him off, turning you body towards him. “I didn’t leave with Mr. Hughes. I took him to the back room to do business with Tommy and then went home because I was exhausted.”

“So you didn’t sleep with him?”

“No sia, I was actually waiting here for you while you were off with some girl that Finn told me about.”

Huffing, Isaiah shook his head as he looked towards the wall – muttering about how Finn told you everything, before turning back towards you.

“I couldn’t go through with it,” he admitted, eyes turning soft as he reached up to brush a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I got to the front door of her house and she leaned up to kiss me and I pulled away because she wasn’t who I wanted to be kissing. She wasn’t who I wanted to be going home with.”

“And who did you want to be kissing?” You voice was barely above a whisper as Isaiah moved closer to you; his soft breath fanning across your face. “Who did you want to go home with?”

“You, and only you.”

With those simple words Isaiah’s lips were on yours, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you onto his lap, while he shifted up against the headboard. Your hands held tightly onto his vest, as if you were scared that if you let go he would disappear from your grasp.

Pulling away, both of you were breathless as Isaiah pulled off his shirt – your hands lifting your dress up and over your head. Isaiah lunged forward to connect his lips to the skin just above your breasts – pressing light kisses upon it, as soft moans passed your lips.

“Isaiah,” you whispered, pulling a hum from the boy as you ran your hands through his hair. Your heart practically bursting from your chest as you finally said those three little words. “I love you.”

Isaiah’s head seemed to shoot up at your words, the moonlight filtering into your room from the gap in your curtains hitting his skin perfectly, adding an angelic glow to him.

Your hand remains on his chest, just above his heart and you feel it skip a beat, maybe two, as he looks intently at your face as if searching for a reason of doubt behind your words. He came up empty.

Warm fingers curved around the nape of your neck, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. His words as soft as velvet – desperate and hopeful.

“Say it again.”

You do.

You’d say it over a thousand times without him needing to ask.

“I love you, Isaiah Jesus.”

The kiss is softer but more urgent to show just how much he appreciated the words. He swears he could stay here, in this moment, forever. Just him and you – he would if he could. He wishes he could commit the feeling to memory.

Instead, he says the words back as he flips you over, kisses as light as feathers as they are peppered over your bare chest.

“I love you, Y/N Shelby.” The words are sweet, like the honey that Polly spends more money than necessary on. A groan barely audible emitting from the back of his throat as you unbuckle his belt. “So fucking much.”

Your hands roam each others skin – your fingers lightly running over the scars that litter his chest before you kiss them. Intimate. Yours.

Your movements are fluid – knowing each others bodies better than your own. Only this time it isn’t fucking. It’s love making, and my God, did you love each other.

Your legs were wrapped around his hips – your head flies back against your pillow as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust in-between his rhythmic ones. Perfect. Sweet.

The bed-frame is lightly banging against the plaster wall and you’re certain that it will leave a dent – or wake up your family. But you didn’t care, not when it felt this good. Not when it was this right.

One of his hand creeps up to grab yours that’s above gripping your sheet, his other making its way between your legs – thumb finding your bundle of nerves that sets your body alight. It’s all you needed to push you there, the feeling causing Isaiah to crumble, white ribbons spilling inside you.

Collapsing beside you, Isaiah doesn’t let go of your hand – he’d hold it tighter if he could. Jagged breaths leaving both of your parted lips as you stared at each other. Your hearts beating as one. It’s beautiful. Delightful.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, a little too scared of rejection.

You roll over, your lips tasting his again. You repeat the words, whispering them to him, the moon and all the stars.

“I love you, Isaiah Jesus.”

He watches as the glow settles upon your body – only one word filling Isaiah’s mind as her takes in your angelic appearance. Lips swollen, his marks littered upon your body, hair a tussled mess that’s cascaded around your head forming your own personal halo.

This is what euphoria feels like, he thinks – and he utterly believes it.

“I love you, Y/N Shelby.”

Yeah, this is euphoria.

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psychemeanscure · 3 years

Text

PART 24 {Did I scare you from the previous part? 😌 sorry~🙈 It won’t be the ending though until you’ll see the word Fin. So yeah😉}

“Hide.”

“Hide, princess. Hide.”

“But appa----“

“Just run away now, Sung Eunyoung. Hide!”

A dawning nights of thunderous rains clattering through every roofs of homes, deafening silent dreams of solemnness. But not for the Sung Mansion. A panicking patriarch silently waking up a clueless young daughter who is just peacefully sleeping. Rubbing an eye from its sleepy mien.

“Appa?”

Her soft voice which only responded by a hush. Confused, yet just enough to get terrified after hearing the sturdy banging behind her bedroom door. Sleepiness instantly vanished. “W-what’s happening, appa?”

Fear came upon the young self. For there she is, being obliged to go down a secret basement of the bedroom her architect father built just for her. A secret passage through their gates exit. Then again she pushed to peek and witness everything and she did for there it is, men in black surrounding his blooded father and the merciless leader she can never forget.

“Hide.”

“Hide, Jang Taeyoung!!”

But it was him. It was his name she keeps on uttering now. She on the dirt of soil and scratches, pouring tears of fear. It became a routine of her consciousness. The day she witnessed her father’s death and how it changed into seeing Jang Taeyoung’s blooded one. 3 years. Three years had passed but she can still remember it clearly. Dreams that was once occupied by her father is with his added. The once revenge she aimed is her today’s anguished.

Afraid that someone might see her with a shattering state, she quickly went inside the bathroom and approach the nearest sink. Washing out the remarks of her endless tears. She dreamt of him again. It was a nap but it always feels like forever.

She cannot forget how she left him even after being saved. Neither did she ask about him ever if he could have been alive or not? She wouldn’t know for she felt guilty all of a sudden that leaving is the only thing she can think of to repent her faults.

She blamed herself and she is still now. Her name was on run back then anyway so fleeing is the most sensible reason to escape. She shamelessly saved her own in the end. A total bitch she agrees.

“There you ar----“

“Hey!”

She was startled. A person who has no decency for privacy opens the door. “Do you really can’t control that attitude of yours? Dios mío.” She hated it. She hated when even just a small gesture from others, she can remember him. Massaging her temple, she asked. “What is this time?”

“My bad, amiga but I haven’t seen you around your desk. So I suppose you’re here, I can’t never be wrong indeed. You cried again? Jeez. What’s really in that nightmares of yours that it keeps haunting you. Are you a runaway bride or something?”

And yes, they’re talking in Spanish. The nosy questions coming from the nosy mouth of the other that she needed to butt in, facing the latter with irritation. A hand resting on the sink while the free one on the waist. “Judy, if you’re running out of stories to tell, will you please exclude my private ones and shut up? Cut the chase por favor.”

Judy who’s racing her arms to surrender, defended herself. “Okay, okay. Relax, will you? As I was saying, I came to your desk to put the files you requested about the incoming book fair this week.”

Instantly, her mood brightens up as she had been reminded about the program which proceeds will be a much help for the orphanage they are rendering. Checking each files with anticipation. “You like that?”

“Very.”

She’s all smiles from ear to ear that Judy can’t help but wonder. “Know what? If you really love kids, then make your own. I feel pity for your genes. Heck, if only I’ve been blessed with that kind of face I think I’m already sleeping with tons of Michael Angelo now.”

Rolling her eyes, she countered. “You, and your mouth, Judy. Did I ever say, I won’t? Spare me, please!”

“Oh yeah? Like how you intentionally dump all your admirers? What a great excuse from you, amiga.”

“Shut up, will you? Tss.”

“Whatever. Anyway, speaking of. The kids just arrive, waiting for your presence already.”

Judy reminds as it was also enough for her to be left on her own as Sung Eunyoung hurriedly went out without further ado. Sighing for being betrayed, she followed instead.

“Profesora!!”

The harmonic chimes of the children as they surrounded her with hugs and kisses as she bent over them. Stroking their hair with tender greetings. “How are you, mi estudiantes?”

“Great! Very great! Yes, we are. We miss you.”

For she has been bombarded with various answers she cannot dare to ignore.

Gone the business venturer her as she is only an ordinary lecturer now. Simply sitting by a tree as she tells tales to what she considered her children. Filling the empty space in her. “Hey, have you heard?”

Judy bringing back its nosiness once again right after she ask her students for a drawing class. Frowning, she faced her co-worker. “Again, Judy? Can you at least zip that blabber mouth of yours just for a day?”

“Hey! That’s too harsh of you.”

“Why? Isn’t it true?”

“Jeez. Your frankness in its finest. Well, let me tell you amiga. It’s a fact this time. Try me.”

She can only shake her head as the former continues her gathered information anyway. Little she knew a piece of it will rise a hidden hopefulness in her. “Russian.”

“I heard a Russian clan takes a big part of sponsoring our book fair. The Oblonsky even donated a number for the orphanage. Books, shelter, name it all. It was said that a Korean man will actually turn as their representative. A Russian elite entrusting an Asian man? How peculiar, right?”

She can only respond a stutter. “W-who’s clan did you say it is?”

“The Oblonsky. And you know what’s more enthralling?” She stilled. As she turned to her unbothered companion who’s still delighted by its own story. Right then, Judy leans for a whisper as if afraid to share it to anyone but her. “A dear acquaintance of mine said this damn representative has a figure of a perfect hottie, amiga. Oh my, how I can picture and meet this mysterious man of my dreams.”

The robust daydreaming of it which just left unheard on her for the only thought running through her mind was the information bestowed upon that she needed to leave the off-guard Judy who’s continuously calling her name from afar. She has to confirm it and if meeting him is the only answer, then be it. Pulling out her phone before stepping in her car, she decided.

“Where are you?”

Fidgeting her nails for waiting, she can’t attain anymore. The Russian Oblonsky clan or better well said the elite mafia gang who saved her foster parents from being hostage back then. The one she just knew he sought for help. Plus, that Korean man. “Dammit.”

She can only curse as everything just gets worse for her to absorb. Brushing her face as she didn’t notice the arrival of the person she contacted who’s now sitting across her. “What’s with that low face that makes you grumpy s---“

“Tell me what happened to him.”

Left confused, the person answers her anyway. “What? Who are you talking about?”

“The f*cking info you knew about him. Tell me all, now!”

Finally interpreted what she meant. He can only bulge his eyes from crunching. “Are you talking about brother? Finally, sis?”

She can only be silent for admitting. “J-just… just give it to me, Zilo.”

Zilo. Yes, she’s indeed meeting the Zilo Alcaziar who killed his own father. The unexpected savior they didn’t saw coming. Thus the seriousness between them came as the introduction of their subject reopened. “Will you believe me if I say he’s dead?”

A sting inside her broke as her skin shivered with disbelief.

“D-don’t… Don’t play with me, Zilo…”

But Zilo just led his head to look down. “Right... How can you trust a person who once harmed you?” He really means it, she can tell. “He vanished.”

“W-what?”

“That’s what I assumed at first when I went back to the scene as the authorities keeps searching for his body. I thought some of his men may have manage to escape their boss. To be honest, I do not actually know the real thing happened to brother but seeing how they found evidences of his death, I can’t help but realize the possibility sis. Believe me, I trie---“

“Stop.”

She needed to stop him before her heart will explode from hurting further. She had foreseen it, she just tried to ignore that it’s not. Hearing it makes her regret asking even as the sorrowful face of Zilo takes in. “I’m sorry…”

Seeing his downgrade stance, she can only sigh from its remorse. She can’t deny, she felt sorry for him as well. “As much as I thank you, I still hate you though.”

“I know. If only I reach in time, I could have save you both sis. Fath—could haven’t got the chance to slip and pull the trigger. I’m really sorry, I really do.” It was as if an unspoken secret from a box revealed its bits for the last time as his whispering apologies continues. Suppressing a drop of tear on her eye, she chooses to glance the shore by the window glass beside them.

“Forget it. It’s all in the past anyway. It’s not like we can bring back the time and change it.”

She thought three years could have been enough to heal her wounded soul but just a simple brought out, the facades breaking so easily. Silence visited once again. “You know what, Zil?” before she initiated to break it, turning to face him who’s as well looking by the shore like she does. “Hm?”

“I still wonder why you shot your own father. I do learn that you’re somehow fighting against him, but to save us? I can’t seem to search for a reason.”

His eyes never left the shore as he speaks. “It’s because it reminded me of how he killed my own mother.”

All she could do then, is listen. “I almost forgot about it, you know. The warmth. The warmth he stole from me when I was a kid. And brother… A younger brother he never had. Just like that, a mere phrase he simply pulled back for me. I thank him for that, and for the nth time, I’m really sorry. For everything. For you. For being a dimwit, for being too late. I really am, sis.”

Sincerity. For the first time she felt it from him. She may have not known what happened between him and Jang Taeyoung before the incident. Yet one thing’s for sure. Her loco, did a good job. “And I have forgiven you for that. Remember it now, Zilo.”

Giving him a small smile, she intended to light their atmosphere and she did as she was reciprocated by its own smile when finally turning to her. “Alright! So much for the drama. Shall we just order our food now?”

Clatters from the utensils can only be heard as they chew their own food when Zilo happens to thought of something. “Sis?”

“Yes?”

“I know this is too much for me to ask, but have you…uhm--- nah, it’s nothing.”

Sensing his hesitation, she obliged him. “Just say it, Zilo.”

Clearing a throat, he had no choice but to push. “Well, w-what I mean was that… perhaps, are you waiting for him? Brother?”

She was halt from her actions then as she was staring to her food, keeping to tap the spoon’s tip on her plate. “What makes you think I am?”

“Because I do think you are. You have been a transparent lioness easy to read ever since you lost him, sis that before you knew your once intricacy became your vulnerability. That what you are today. You just failed to notice it.”

She can never be as silent as she is right now indeed.

Leaning by the backrest of his seat, Zilo can see right through her. “So you’re really waiting for him, huh?”

‘Am I?’

She thought for herself.

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yeaahishowedupatyourparty · 3 years

Text

THE PARENTHOOD INTERVIEW: Florence.

In all of these interviews, I’m obviously going to have to make things up about other people’s characters! Don’t take it too seriously if you feel like it’s not accurate, just how I picture things being :)

10 QUESTIONS NOT LINKED TO YOUR KID(S).

what is your current career now? “I’m currently a teacher at a dance school. I mainly teach ballet at the moment, but I’ve started moving in to more commercial and contemporary styles. Eventually, I’m hoping to open my own school, but life is hectic and always throwing new things our way, so we’ll see!”

are you enjoying it? “I love being a teacher, especially when I get to teacher the mini-classes. They’re about four and it’s been such a long time since I’ve had children that age around; I miss it!”

where do you currently live? “We currently live in the Springs, it was just convenient because that’s where the three of them went to school but we do make an effort to visit Italy a lot. That’s where Dom’s family are from, firstly, and it’s just always had significance.”

are you married? “Since I was 18! Younger than Daisy!”

what is one thing that’s stayed the same with you since st judes? “My connection with my family. I’m still really close to them all, especially Disney, Florence and Park.”

what’s the biggest change you’ve experienced? “I think I’ve become smarter. I hope? Helping with impossible maths homework for years changes a person. I now know all seven continents. Proud of me yet?”

now that you’re older and have had a successful career, what’s your biggest goal in life? “To make sure I’m present for my family, especially my children. I never want them to look back on their lives and think; well, where was my mother? It’s the reason I gave up work once Carter was born, too. I’ve never missed a sports game, a school show, a birthday, a parent’s evening...It’s not how everybody chooses to live, but it’s important to me that my children know that they can fall back on to me if they need to.”

would you still consider yourself famous? “Only by association, and that’s fine by me.”

what was the first thing you did after your graduation? “I went on tour, would you believe! I choreographed for Ruby’s tour, who was signed to my Dad’s label at the time.”

do you have any regrets about your time in st judes? “Not speaking my mind more often. I feel like there was an awful pressure on girl’s too be sweet and not come across as a bitch, which meant people could say what they liked and you’d have to grin and bear it if you wanted to be seen a certain way. I wish I stuck up for Dom more, and myself.”

QUESTIONS ABOUT PARENTHOOD.

who are your children? list them in age order. “Carter, Peter and Daisy. My babies.”

if you gave birth, who was the easiest pregnancy? if you didn’t, which pregnancy did you feel most anxious about. “Carter was the easiest pregnancy. It was the first, so I didn’t know what to expect and probably took it for granted at the time, but I had no morning sickness. I got up every morning and went to this mother-to-be yoga class and had a ton of energy. I feel like I had the glow everyone speaks of? Being pregnant with Peter wasn’t the worse. I think it was more that I was pregnant and still had Carter to care for, so I was tired. Daisy’s birth definitely had the most complications and she was early. We knew from early on that things weren’t ‘normal’, so I guess that was the one with the most anxiety.”

did you have any baby showers or gender reveals? if yes, what did you do? “I can’t remember if I did gender reveals! I don’t think I did, honestly. I did have baby showers, though. It wasn’t anything major. Just gatherings with close friends and family. It was cute when Peter and Daisy were born because Carter was more involved in the pictures and stuff, and then of course Peter too during Daisy’s one.”

what kind of parent would your children describe you as, do you think? “God, I don’t think I want to know! I think if we’re being honest, they’d say I’m almost overbearing and they’d be right. I wouldn’t be offended. I just like knowing they’re okay...”

which stage was hardest: baby, toddler, child, teenager or young adult? “For Daisy, toddler-slash-child. She wasn’t very well and that was hard on all of us. I think Peter was the trickiest teenager...and for Carter, probably young adult, honestly! He’s coming into his own and it’s harder to get him to open up to me because, you know, he’s an adult! They’re all amazing though, so don’t think for a second any of that means they’ve caused me massive stress in any way.”

what has been your favourite memory with each child? “There are so many! One of my favourites that involves them all was the first year we went skiing with their cousins. Seeing the boys help Daisy out with the skiis...and then also ambush her with snowballs until she got stroppy and ran to Dom, was fun. Seeing them all get along like that never gets old and makes it all worth it.”

be honest, do you think you’ve had any failings as a parent? “Definitely. I constantly blame myself for Daisy being sick when she was little. I’ll forever wonder if I could’ve done anything differently while pregnant or if I did anything to contribute. For both of the boys, I sometimes worry that I didn’t sit with them enough when they were younger and help them talk things through. They’re both such ‘get on with it’ types of people and it’s admirable but I just wish I gave them more opportunities to vocalise their feelings. It gets harder the older they get.”

what do you think you do well as a parent? “I hope it’s being present! Again, that’s something that’s really important to me. If they all know that there’s no such thing as a mistake too big or a problem too bad to bring to me, then I’ve done my job. I don’t want any of them to ever think they have to suffer in silence about things in fear of being told off or yelled at.”

how much involvement do your own parents have in your child’s life? “Quite a bit! My parents used to take them on holiday a lot over the summer along with their cousins.”

as a parent, what is something you’re still learning? “That they grow up and they’re entitled to have thoughts and feelings they don’t share. I think I always have the urge to fix everything for them when in reality, they’re at the age where they’re figuring things out alone which is just as important.”

what’s the funniest memory from parenthood so far? “Carter takes this one. We were on a plane going to, somewhere. Daisy must have been tiny. Anyway, Peter was sat with Dom and Carter sat with me - Daisy on my lap with the baby seatbelt on...and suddenly, he just became overly excited. I’ve never seen him so happy. When I finally got his attention, he was like “Mummy, Santa’s on the plane!” and wouldn’t stop. Well, we looked down the aisle to see a person in a dress...A woman, mind you...And she had long white hair, which to be fair to a little child could have been seen as a beard. Anyway, after the embarrassment and a journey of death glares from her, it’s definitely one of my favourite things he’s done.”

when do you feel like you were needed the most? “Now! Life gets harder as you get older. But, I need to learn when they need me to back off too...I’ll get there.”

JUST FOR FUN, WHICH CHILD… if you have just one child, you can just say if they’d do the stuff or not.

which child is the most sensible? “Carter and Peter are two different types of sensible and they’re both important qualities, so I’m going to say those two. Sorry, Dais.”

which child is the most independent? “Peter. He always has been, too.”

which child did you always have suspicions about being famous one day? “They’re all so talented, typical Mum comment! Maybe Daisy, though. She’d stand in front of the boys while they were playing their video games and belt out Frozen. If that’s not star quality...and bravery, then I don’t know.”

which child was the hardest work as a child? “Daisy, only because of the complications with her health.”

which child have you cried/stressed over the most? “Daisy or Peter. It’s too close to call.”

which child has the tidiest room? “Carter. That’s the easiest one so far.”

which child do you think likes you the most? “I hope they all like me! I feel like Carter’s the one who’ll still pity me and laugh at my jokes or has the patience to show me how to set up crap on the computer too. So, we’ll say him. I know the other two love me too, but I tend to get a few more eye rolls!”

which child is most likely to forget your birthday? “Daisy! She’s been spoilt. The boys have always been nice enough to put her name on cards and organise it for her. Perks of being the youngest? I remember my siblings doing it for me too.”

which child is/was the most academic? “Carter, I think.”

which child is/was the most athletic? “Peter.”

which child tends to be the most annoying? “They all give it a good go, believe me. I think Daisy’s the most unintentionally annoying and again, it’s because we all spoil her. She went through a stage where she would not leave Peter alone and if the poor kid tried to do something by himself, she’d have a full blown tantrum. It got to the point where I had to start giving her time outs! If we’re talking about being intentionally annoying, then the whole family will agree on Peter. If he’s in that mood, he knows exactly how to wind you up...which is funny unless you’re the target!”

which child asks for money the most? “Daisy, but from Dom. That’s his problem to deal with!”

which child is most likely to move in back home? “Deep down, I don’t think any of them will and as much as it pains me, it also makes me really proud. I feel like it means we’ve given them everything they need for the next chapter.”

which child helps out around the house the most? “Either of the boys. Are you noticing a pattern?”

which child enjoyed disney the most growing up? “That’d be Daisy.”

BEING AN ACADEMY PARENT.

did you have a say in the academy(s) your child(ren) picked? “I didn’t! They all made their own decisions and I deliberately didn’t comment because I wanted them to have that.”

how did you feel when your child decided they wanted to go to an academy? “I felt hopeful! I know it can be intense but they all have what it takes and I’m so proud every single day.”

do any of your children study the same as what you did? are they less, equally or more successful than what you were? “Daisy studies dance and she’s miles ahead of where I was at her age. She’s a star.”

when your child(ren) were younger, what did you THINK they’d end up working as? “That’s a good question! I always thought Carter would maybe do something like, helpful? He’s quite social and so caring. I always saw him as maybe a firefighter or teacher, y’know? With Peter, it was obvious from when he was tiny that he wouldn’t be sat behind a desk or doing anything office-like. I did always have a feeling it’d be sports related, or something that lets him travel...Maybe with my brother out in the canary islands. I don’t know! Daisy was in dance from when she was tiny, so I always had the feeling she’d do dance...”

have you met any of your child’s friends or partners? “I’ve met Callie once, I think? And Aurora a few times, yes. Beautiful girls. I won’t say too much or I’ll get texts from my boys saying I’ve embarrassed them.”

what’s your biggest worry about your children being in an academy? “Their mental health. I don’t think anything can prepare you for people suddenly being so interested in your life and wanting a piece of you all of the time.”

what’s the one piece of advice you’d give your child as they start this journey that you wished you had? “That it’s okay to slip off of the radar, you’re allowed to decline that invite to the exclusive party everybody is buzzing about and if you decide it isn’t for you, you’re allowed to leave. If it’s not your thing, there’s a whole world out there and your thing is in it. I just hope they always see the big picture and don’t feel like they’re stuck if they’re unhappy.”

MEMORY LANE.

what tv programmes/films were on repeat as your children were growing up? “Paw Patrol when the boys were younger...Power Rangers was a thing at one stage. Daisy had a frightening obsession with Dora the Explorer. We’ve done it all!”

have you ever lost your child/had something happen that’s made you panic? “Holy shhh. Yes. I used to take all of the kids out a lot during holiday’s and stuff because like, Brody and Disney both worked. Park worked. Imogen worked. Even though they have their own businesses, it’s still work. I was unemployed from when Carter was born right up until when Daisy graduated, so I liked to get them all out and away from their parents for a bit. Anyway! I took them swimming one summer - all of them! - Jay, Daisy, Dixie, Fleur, Pippa, Peter, Carter, Emmett...I turned my back for one second to let one of the younger ones - maybe Pippa - into the pool, when I turned back Peter and Dixie had gone. We searched the changing rooms, the toilets, the sauna. I was on the brink of tears. Anyway, they were hiding under the slide in the main pool which we never went in because it was too deep for any of them at that point. Needless to say, we never went swimming again. It was play dates in our garden pool instead.”

what was the first holiday you went on as a whole family? “Italy, I believe!”

can you remember a time you’ve ever been called to the principals office? “I don’t remember the first time but, let’s just say the principal and I were on a first name basis.”

say one thing about your child that you think they’d like to hear, but wouldn’t expect you to say. “...Let’s see. For Daisy, I think it’d be that she’s so much more than pretty. She’s been complimented on her looks since she was little - including by me, I’m guilty! And it’s because she’s beautiful! But, I hope she knows we all see how smart and generous she is too. And funny, there’s so much more to her and we value it. For Peter, definitely that we’re proud of him. Out of the three of them, he’s hardest on himself and holds himself to a painfully high standard but he’s constantly surpassing any expectations I’ve ever have. He amazes me everytime I hear from him and I just want him to remember to be kind to himself. He’s so much more than he gives himself credit for. And, with Carter, it’s similar but not quite. It’s more that he’s perfect just as he is. I think he grew up as the sensible, and possibly softer sibling. Daisy and Peter are louder by nature and from my experience, I know it’s hard to not feel like you’re forgettable or have faded into the background if you’re not as bold with your personality. But, I can put my hand on my heart and say I couldn’t imagine a better older brother - he’s kind, thoughtful, intelligent...He’s been a great example to them and so selfless. He’s had to endure and put up with so much growing up and not once has he complained, or felt sorry for himself. He’s a blessing and I just hope he knows that he doesn’t need to be more like anyone else to make me proud of him. I love them all!”

#itsflorence #SHES DEFINITELY MY FAVE PARENT I THINK - SHES SO LOVING

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loki-godofmischief-myking · 4 years

Text

Remnant Daughter

Loki x Deceased!Reader x Daughter OC

Loki loved you. There was no one else he loved more than you. The day you died he resolved to protect that love that had resulted in a daughter. She was a perfect reminder of you, one he would preserve. No harm would ever come to her so long as he lived.

Warning: None really. Just note that here Loki never tried taking over Midgard. When he found out his Jotun heritage he didn’t resent Odin and Frigga, rather thanked them for his upbringing.

“Loki-”

Loki tossed and turned in his bed as he heard his name being called out. The voice was meek and full of desperation. His skin began to turn blue as his mind took him back to the day he lost you.

Your lower body shook and trembled as you had yet to recover from delivering your baby daughter. One hand kept you stable along the cold cavern walls as the other held your newborn close to your chest.

A cold huff of air escaped you as you got closer to the cavern’s opening where you could hear your husband fending off the intruders.

Unfortunately, your pregnancy had not been easy. Only Jotunheim housed the climate appropriate for your half-Jotun daughter. You were near death when you arrived, your skin burning to the touch. Only Loki was able to handle your feverish skin long enough to get you to where you had to be.

After finding out his true parentage Loki remained in Asgard- where his beloved was. All for you, he gave up his line to the throne letting it go to Laufey’s other son. A son who hated Loki’s very existence.

When he had gotten word of his being within the realm he sent for him. That is when they caught wind of his reason for coming back. Laufeyson ordered your child be taken and killed to honor his father’s wish that would have seen Loki dead in the first place.

Loki would never allow any harm upon his child. A child you had desperately wanted in order to complete the vision of a perfect family you always painted for him.

In full Jotun form, Loki growled, “Leave while I allow it.”

The Jotuns towered over him still, not backing down after being given strict orders from their king.

“Loki,” you happily sighed as you saw your husband was unharmed.

Loki’s chest constricted once he heard the sweet sound of your voice. Only in his sleep could he accurately recall how truly beautiful a sound it was.

Without a moment to spare you had your free arm wrapped around him as your daughter was warmly nestled between you. “Thank Norns you are safe.”

He returned your embrace kissing the top of your head before tucking it under his chin. “You should not be out here, it is not safe. He will send others.”

“How can I remain hidden and do nothing when you are outnumbered? I am your wife, I will forever stand by your side.”

Loki’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he desperately tried to will himself awake knowing very well what came next. But his efforts were fruitless as his mind made him relive the most traumatic moment of his life.

"Choose, your wife or your daughter?”

“Don’t you dare harm her!”

Laufeyson inched his ax closer to your neck when Loki took a step towards him, making you feel the sharp edge against your rapidly cooling skin. He had stripped you of the warm fur-lined coat that had kept your body temperature stable in the harsh cold of the realm. The thin Asgardian dress did little to shield you from the sharp winds. Hypothermia would soon claim you who was not built for such an environment.

Loki tried to keep from showing how horrified he was by the decision. He could see the fear in your eyes, the paling of your skin, and the soft whimpering of his newborn which he held in his arms. It was impossible to choose.

He could never hand over his daughter and yet he could not fathom the idea of returning to Asgard without you.

“Daddy~”

“Choose!”

“L-loki,” you shivered. “Please take her and go,” you begged him through teary eyes. Of course, you did not want to die but you would give your life for his and hers. You wanted nothing more than their happiness.

“I can’t-”

“Please just...” you knew Loki would never make the decision. You knew you had to make it for him.

His eyes widened as he saw your hand discreetly pull a dagger out of your sleeve as you wordlessly mouthed your final confession of love for him.

Loki’s eyes shot open when small hands began to hit his chest repeatedly. His ragged breathing came to a halt when he saw the look of concern on his five-year-old daughter.

“Kari, what are you doing here?”

“I could not sleep.”

Her bright red eyes examined his expression knowing very well that this was the case for him as well. Unlike Loki, she had no control over her eyes as they remained her natural Jotun red but lacked the sheer darkness behind them. There was a gleam that illuminated them, undeniably inherited from you. That very same gleam that had gotten him to notice you when he had been surrounded by women who only sought him for his title.

“You were having a bad dream Daddy.” In an effort to comfort her father Kari wrapped her little arms around his torso laying her head against his chest. “Was it about Mommy?”

As he looked down at her he could not help but remember the way you would cling to him begging him to stay with you a moment longer instead of going about his duties. If he knew then how limited his time with you would be... he would have fulfilled your every wish. Now all he could do was regret.

“It was,” he responded by putting his own arms around her and kissing the top of her head.

Kari immediately looked up giving him a look of sorrow. “Daddy,” her eyes silently apologized for your absence. “Mommy isn’t here but I am. Kari will always be here for you.”

The heart-wrenching words of his concerned daughter had Loki smiling. He tucked her in with a light-hearted chuckle to show he had been relieved of his lamentations.

Once again she was his strength.

“I know my dear.”

He would live to protect this last remnant of you.

\\\

“If you have already finished the reading then perhaps it is time we introduce you to more complex literature.”

Kari sighed as she followed behind her grandfather’s advisor. He was a tutor to her when it came to diplomacy. As a princess Kari was expected to learn everything there was to be known about all the realms.

“Here,” the elder man handed her a rather large and heavy book. “This will be of use to you. I remember when I first read it. I was much younger then.”

“The reason I read so quickly is to rid myself of my duties. Had I known this was going to happen I would have dozed off longer.”

“Princess you have been gifted with a mind like no other.” He smiled at the young girl showing he meant well. “Your mother read her way through this library. She was always searching always wondering, a true scholar. Your father and mother were different in every sense. This was the only place they ever crossed paths.”

“So I hear... but I’m not nearly as interested in dusty old books.” She was an eight-year-old girl who wished to have fun with the other children. Until now she had been urged from one lesson to another. Diplomacy, etiquette, magic, archery, economics, language, astrology, and worst of all- math. But it mattered not what task they put in front of her. The young girl was incredibly talented with unmatched intelligence and natural charisma.

“I want to have fun.”

So much so that at times everyone was thankful Loki was so strict on her.

“What would your Highness consider fun?”

Kari shrugged, fun was never something she strived for. Only recently had the word come about after she heard the other noble children raving about how they spent their days riding horses to a secret waterfall the adults knew not of. And through books, she learned the most fun realm of all was Midgard.

“I would like to go to another realm.”

“Another realm?”

The little girl nodded, “I wish to see things for myself rather than read someone else’s account.” Her eyes trained themselves on the rainbow bridge which she could make out in the distance from the window. “Someday I will travel and become master of all realms.”

“How ambitious of you little one.”

Kari beamed as she heard her grandmother’s voice.

“Queen Frigga,” the advisor gave a curt bow of his head which she acknowledged. At the same time, he was relieved of his duties as Kari’s tutor to be turned over to her. He left the royals with a cautionary warning to the young one that she should not overlook the wisdom of old dusty books.

Being in the presence of her grandmother Kari knew she could relax, evident by the way she rid herself of the glamour spell she had perfected to conceal her bright red eyes with beautiful gold irises. Although beautiful she much rather preferred that which made her different.

“Much better,” she exhaled contently.

Frigga smiled, “My...what a beautiful granddaughter I have been bestowed.” Her hand gently prodded Kari’s chin to tilt her head up so she could meet her eyes.

The compliment immediately gained Kari’s laughter. “You always say that...”

“And I always mean it.”

The little girl’s smile reached her eyes only to be withdrawn when she heard the familiar grumbling of her grandfather. “Kari!” He sternly called her name, not a fan of her openly displaying her Jotun heritage.

Immediately she hid her eyes from view.

“What have I told you?”

Kari sighed, the lecture had been engraved in her memory. “That I must adapt to what Asgard expects of me... and what they expect is a well-mannered, well-bred Asgardian princess.”

The rest of Asgard knew not of Loki’s lineage. For his sake and now for Kari’s sake, Odin had them conceal their Jotun attributes in order to keep any from questioning Loki as a prince of Asgard. This was helped by the fact that you, a sensible young woman from a noble family took an interest in his son. You hid the truth well even from your own family who to this day believe you had died of complications during childbirth.

They never approved of your relationship with Loki, in turn, they despised Kari for causing your premature death.

This was something Kari had no knowledge of. Loki made sure her life was nothing but positive. If ever an inconvenience arose he would deal with it. Therefore your family no longer resided in Asgard.

“Do not be so hard on her, she is only a child.”

Odin sighed knowing there was truth to Frigga’s statement but he was only looking out for his granddaughter. He truly cared for her. He had to ensure her future as a princess of Asgard. “She is the firstborn princess of Asgard. It is a title she must not take lightly.”

Loki appeared as if out of nowhere, his hands behind his back as he sported a playful smirk. “I really do wish Thor would just marry and give you other grandchildren to torment.”

He was grateful for Odin taking him in but knew all his life he had been at a disadvantage with Thor who was a blood son. He knew once his brother had children Odin would turn his attentions to them the future Kings or Queens of Asgard.

“Loki!” Frigga warned her youngest son to watch what he said, especially in front of Kari.

“Daddy,” Kari ran into her father’s arms happy to see he was back. Her arms latched around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I missed you.”

“And I missed you, my little one.” One arm carried her weight while the other hand gave her full head of silk-like hair a pat.

Odin remained silent not justifying himself to Loki. He had his reasons for doing things the way he did just as Loki had his.

Thor soon appeared as well having been left behind by his brother.

“Uncle Thor,” one hand reached out to him wanting to also greet him but not enough to let go of her father.

“Kari, my sweet princess.” He smiled brightly at the affectionate scene before him of his niece latching onto his brother. Never had he seen him so openly display affection before Kari’s birth. Even with you, he seemed to hide his attraction making others question the validity of your relationship at one point. He reached out to hold her hand in his and kissed the top. “I hope you have behaved yourself while we were gone.”

“Of course she has.” “Of course I have.” Father and daughter simultaneously respond.

“Then I suppose we can bestow you with the gift we have brought.”

Kari’s eyes lit up. “A gift!”

The entire royal family had trekked out into the stables where Kari’s gift lay in wait. A gift that was actually not from her uncle or father.

A crowd of people was gathered in awe at the gift. For many this was a new creature for others it was a memory of the past for there had been many in Asgard until they went extinct. They waited to hear how the creature had ended up here.

“Alfheim has gifted one of their precious unicorns to the firstborn princess of Asgard.”

Kari gasped seeing the white unicorn that stood as a stark contrast to the surrounding horses. The unicorn’s distinct horn was incredibly long and shiny, when the light caught it there seemed to be an iridescent shine like opal or pearl. The mane was hard to describe in one word. It was white but somewhere in between, it seemed to give a hint of blue shine. One thing was for sure, the mane was long and silky in the way each strand fell perfectly back in place.

“Is it really for me?” She held her father’s hand tight with giddiness.

Loki was not fond of the idea of his daughter riding but had to admit defeat at the happiness she was radiating. “If you promise to behave and take lessons before attempting to ride him-”

“Him, hmmm...” The young girl tapped her chin in her pursuit of a suitable name for her beautiful new companion. Her hand slipped out of her father’s to approach the magical looking creature. That is how she was able to see the sporadic deep blue streaks of hair that were outnumbered by the white. “Azure,” she spoke mostly to herself yet to the unicorn. “Did you know there are hundreds of words for the color blue. There are many languages and dialects each with their own word.” Her hand gently ran through the ends of his mane, the only part she could reach. “You look more like an Azure.”

“What a lovely name my dear,” Frigga beamed seeing how her spirit had been lifted after being reprimanded by Odin.

“Yes, but what good is a horse you can not ride.” Thor, the ever fun-loving uncle that he was, went against his brother’s wishes and lifted his niece up onto the unicorn’s back.

“It is not your ordinary horse you oaf!” Loki scolded. His brother knew not of a unicorn’s differing mannerisms and personalities to horses. They were far more gentle creatures with the temper of a bull and the charge of a rhino only far more dangerous with that sharp horn of theirs.

Kari was fighting with her urge to go along with her uncle or listen to her father’s demand for her to get off.

“Come now brother, nothing will happen. Let our young princess have some fun, Odin knows you did when you were younger.” With that Thor mounted Azure keeping his niece safely between his arms as he took the reigns.

To Loki’s surprise, Azure listened to Thor entertaining them with a steady gallop.

Odin’s lips seemed to curl up into a brief smile that only Frigga caught before he retired back into the palace. She brought her hand onto her son’s shoulder assuring him there was no harm.

Loki’s worries were only put to rest by Kari’s laughter. His daughter’s quick liking to the animal reminded him of you.

Loki smirked using your lack of agility to his advantage as he stole your current interest right out of your hands. He held the book above your reach to examine it. “What has my love so interested in Alfheim?”

Your brow furrowed in discontent, “It is none of your concern-”

“If you wish to visit you only need say so.”

The book was handed back to you allowing you something to grasp while you remind him of your situation. “You already know that is impossible when all of Asgard is watching us.”

You had married Loki only a few months ago and were determined to do everything in your power to earn your place. There were still too many who did not acknowledge your marriage to Loki simply because they thought Thor should be first to marry.

“You worry too much.”

“Do I?”

Loki nodded, “Now tell me why Alfheim?”

“Unicorns.”

“Unicorns,” Loki eyed you with skepticism. “A realm known for its magical knowledge, nature, music... and you simply want to see a horned horse?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Unicorns are said to be magical creatures. The alicorn being the source of their magical and medicinal properties.”

Loki recalled watching you flip through books as you animatedly recounted your research on the rare creature. He could only imagine you would smile just as brightly upon the unicorn’s arrival.

Kari interrupted his thoughts when she came running to him. “Did you see me?”

“You were wonderful my little one.”

Although his lips were curled into a smile Kari could easily read her father. There was a certain look in his eyes, darkness, whenever he became saddened by the thought of you.

“I love you Daddy,” these four words were her magical tool against her father’s dark thoughts. She need only say it once for him to come back to his senses.

Loki truly smiled now, wonderfully surprised by his daughter’s sentiment. “I love you too.”

The young girl wondered if someday she could take her father’s pain away. She wanted him to be the fun mischievous person everyone always recalled in their stories of times before she was born.

That night Kari would not go to bed no matter how many times her nursemaid tried to coax her. She relentlessly went on about waiting for her father to be done so he could tuck her in like when she was younger.

“Princess your father is very busy-”

“I can wait.”

“Please princess have mercy on me. Your father will be very displeased with me if I do not complete my tasks.”

Kari had seen many nursemaids come and go throughout her short years. Each one having been replaced after Loki saw they were not fit to uphold his standards or if one got too attached to her.

He did not wish for anyone to play the role of mother to Kari. His daughter already had a mother.

“That is not my problem,” Kari crossed her arms over her chest standing firm. “I will do as I please until my father retires for the night.”

The nursemaid sighed unable to do anything but wait to be reprimanded and perhaps sent to another noble family to care for their children.

Hours later Loki had yet to retire.

Kari sleepily hung onto hope for a bit longer before going across the hall to his rooms in search of him. She pushed the heavy door to gain entrance into the silent chambers.

She knew if she would just call out to him he would appear before her but this time around she was curious to know why he had not come to see her. That’s when she heard a muffled sound coming from his study, the door slightly ajar.

Loki sat back in his chair, a chalice of mulled wine in his hand while he faced the farthest wall where a portrait of you hung as the only decoration. It was commissioned post-mortem when he realized there were no portraits of only you.

He concentrated greatly needing more time than usual to picture you in all your glory. Then in a second, you were standing before him in golden shine. It was an illusion he had created of you.

“It’s getting harder-” A knot in his throat stopped him mid-sentence. The thought of possibly forgetting you was more than he could handle. “Why can’t I summon you at will?”

The illusion of you stood still flickering slightly when he took a drink.

Lately, he could only remember you in your last moments of life. He found himself forgetting the finer details of your appearance and personality.

“I forget my love... did you like postmodern romanticism or was it transcendentalism?”

He took another drink and yet again you flickered.

Loki stared at the illusion he had made, judging the appearance. He always remembered that pale green dress you wore when he first noticed you. It fit you well, hugged all the right places and complimented your lustrous skin. Your hair and your face- he gripped the chalice trying to recall the color and feel.

The image that came to mind was much to generic for his liking... just like the portrait.

He stood up approaching the illusion and looked up at the portrait.

“Sure it is beautiful,” he admitted. It resembled you but was it truly you. “No one can ever accurately capture you, my love.”

Kari’s eyes teared up when she heard how hard it was getting for her father to speak.

“And your voice...”

“Loki,” the illusion called to him in your voice- or at least what he thought was your voice. “Loki, my love.”

“How I wish to hear it.” A tear finally found its way down Loki’s cheek as he resigned himself to the fact that even he couldn’t reproduce the sweet sound of your voice.

In his dreams, he heard it but it was always followed by your cries of pain.

“I love you Loki,” the illusion smiled with a tilt of its head in the same way you would every time you playfully professed your love to him.

When the chalice was empty Loki picked up the bottle and drank directly from it. The illusion flickered continuously until he had downed the entirety of it.

Kari stepped into the study now fully in tears from what she was seeing.

“Daddy...”

Loki quickly turned to see his daughter cautiously approaching him. “Kari-” he wanted to reprimand her for not being in bed but found it difficult when she was sorrowfully staring at his illusion of you.

Up until now, he had been careful not to do this in front of her. He knew it would be too much of an emotional trigger. He could hardly handle it himself. When he made a gesture to be rid of it Kari stopped him.

“Wait-” Her small hands reached out to him. Now it was she who compared the illusion to the portrait above. All she had ever seen was that portrait but never imagined her mother’s voice.

“C-can she-” she was almost afraid to ask. As if her father would deny her request. “Can she say my name?”

Loki inhaled sharply. His daughter’s request was difficult but not impossible.

“Kari~” the illusion called out effectively rendering the little girl motionless. This time Loki managed to envision your joyous expression upon his return from long trips. He had the illusion give a similar smile and say, “I love you Kari.”

“I love you too Mommy-”

The little girl’s lips trembled unable to stop herself from crying profusely. She had never met this woman yet she felt so strongly about her.

His daughter’s tears were sobering. Loki put down the bottle he had so viciously been gripping onto. He knelt down in front of his young daughter, the illusion now vanishing into nothing but golden specs of light.

“Kari-”

"Daddy...” Kari’s small arms wrapped around her father as she continued to cry into his chest.

Loki held her silently. There was nothing he could say that would make her feel better. For years he had tried finding comfort from the neverending pain he felt after your loss. But nothing could ever fill the void you left behind.

At one point he damned you for making him fall in love with you. He damned the empty promises of forever. You dared entice him with the picture of eternal love and a family to cherish and call his own only to leave him behind.

But in the end, he knew it was all worth it.

Loving you gave his life new meaning.

Before you, he never imagined himself as a father and now he couldn’t imagine a life without his precious daughter.

Kari found comfort in her father’s embrace although she didn’t care too much for the smell of alcohol on him. The gentle caress of her hair and the slight pressure atop her head of his lips seemed to coax her out of the mournful sorrow she was suddenly hurled into.

Slowly the tears began to dry up and she was able to find her voice again.

“Daddy... Do you think- do you think she would have loved me?”

“She loved you before you were even born.”

“Really?” Kari looked up with swollen eyes and a runny nose.

Loki nodded, “She couldn’t wait to meet you.”

He recalled your constant lack of interest in him as you worried over your growing belly.

“Do you think this is normal?”

You continued to inspect your reflection in the mirror as you stood in front of it with only a towel wrapped around you. It had become a regular occurrence after your bath. Your hands were on your protruding belly but your eyes were on Loki as he approached you from behind.

Loki placed his hands on top of yours not really focusing on your question but on the way you had completely let your guard down. His lips found your bare shoulder to be much more important.

“I doubt there is something I know that you do not my lovely wife.” His lips lightly trailed kisses up along your neck as he continued to whisper loving words into your ear. “But I do know I can hardly keep my hands off you when you are this enticing.”

“Forever the silver-tongued prince...”

“Forever the beautiful vixen who seduced this prince.”

You laughed, “Seriously Loki... do you think she is alright?”

“Do not worry, everything will be fine.”

"Even now she loves you...”

“Really?” He nodded in affirmation but Kari was still unconvinced.

Loki was always known for his lies but he dare not deceive his own daughter. You were a mother who gave her own life for her daughter. Although he couldn’t tell her this now, in the future she would know it.

She would know how you protected her.

She would know how much you loved her...how much you loved them.

She would know of your loving sacrifice.

“Trust me little one.”

-end-

A/N: Sorry for the long unexplained hiatus. In the meantime, I hope you accept this humble offering as an apology for my absence.

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