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that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main · 1 year

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Being Thor's best friend + Týr's Fiance part 2

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Reader: female | Thor x sister-in-law Reader (Platonic)| Týr x reader (romantic eventually)

Notes: you guys liked the last one so heres the second part!, Freyr also comes in! So cool! Also týr heavy, not much thor this time! Sorry

Warnings: bitchy moms bitchy moms oh so bitch moms

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If you fully honest

You didnt remember what happened when you woke up the next day in bed with you sketch book and a few pages spewed on the bed with yourself and a pencil

You felt a large hand, an unfamiliar large hand fall on your shoulder as you stay fake sleeping, a blanket being brought further up your body as your hair was swipped back for comfort and that was all.

You hadnt even been changed out your outfit of last night.

You sat up

"I did not wish to wake you." Týr spoke, Y/n's sketch book in his hand, setting it on the desk.

"Oh...thank you." Y/n spoke softly.

"You are tired still. I would be as well." Týr chuckled, "we had quiet the night."

Y/n was silent looking around, "You take your work very seriously."

Y/n nodded, oh, drilling another project she supposed, picking up one of the left over sketches some quick, other's well consumed on time.

"Ah....I was having trouble with the beard..." Y/n responded looking over the sketch, "I uh. Was never too good at draw braids."

"I had heard of your work prior, I am certainly impressed."

Y/n nodded, "thank you. Its an ever-growing skill."

Y/n looked at the other pages casually, he watching her intently.

"Uh...yes?" Y/n asked nervously.

"Oh. Breakfast?"

"Uh. Sure..." Y/n responded.

He had brought you breakfast in bed

Thats awfully nice

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes. Its good." Y/n spoke, "did you make it?"

He made it indeed.

Still you feel akward eating lunch with this man.

Its a rough start, the trying to get to know you part

He figures, once he starts getting you to talk, you wont be able to stop

Its true in a way, you enjoyed talking about your pass time, and he enjoyed listening.

But besides that you didnt open up much.

"You and Thor are good friends."

"Since we were kids."

"It's nice then. To return after your long journey to friends."

Y/n looked down into her bowl, "I was on a journey. Is that what they told?"

"You're own mother-"

"She's just as bad as your father." Y/n complained, "Both compulsive liars."

"Misery is good company they say."

That caused her to chuckle, he wasnt wrong.

He likes your smile, and you enjoy his witty humor.

You could atleast be friends it seemed like, he's kind, and carring. Good sense of humor.

Also he wasnt like your mother so big plus

Deep deep deep down, you know that you could of become friends with Týr on your own if you werent forced to marry him.

You guys kinda are forced to spend the day together

You both do try and see the postive, but the postive would you not having to wear a dress, so you didnt and came out looking like a bad ass bitch.

So you spend your day together, mostly walking, and sitting, and talking.

Until kids run up to you

"You bested Thor!" One cheered, "me and my sister are gonna be Valkyires! We wanna be like you!"

"Yeah you were so cool!"

"The first male Valkyire?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah!" They cheered, "The Valkyire twins!"

Y/n chuckled, "Well. I am no Valkyire. But. I know a few. And Im sure one day you'll both best the best."

"Come on! Lets go tell mom!"

And they ran off together with happy goodbyes.

Cute. Kids are cute, sometimes

"You're good with them."

"Kids?" Y/n asked, "truth me told I still think Im one myself"

He likes that your comfortable

And you both contuine your talking

It doesn't last long, a charge of kids come at you

"Can boys really be Valkyires!?"

"I wanna be a Valkyire!"

"Me too!"

"Lets battle!"

"Yeah! Come on! If we beat you! We're sure to be Valkyires!"

Oh what have you done

Týr's laughing as a group of kids gang up on you

You have no choice but the crumble

They've resorted to tickling you now

But you wont let them win and chase them causing them to laugh and run.

He thinks it's really an eye opener to see how you are

Plus he thinks its really cute you with kids

Though he doesn't feel like its his place to ask your opinion on kids

Luckily you go through most of the walk without intruption

His talks of peace and all, really intrest you, he knows peace can brought on even without war.

You wish nothing but to agree with him, but you know how cruel people can be, he knows but still sees the postivey in them all.

You suppose no one wants to see there parents in that light, even the worst of them.

Changing the subject he ask what you'd like to do.

Your tempted to say drinking contest.

But end up saying drawing.

He'll admit he's not the best artist, but would love to contuine to spend the time with you

He's expecting a table, just drawing whatever you remember.

Not well. The adventure that comes with it

Climbing on the sea side cliffs, a dangerous but exilerating adventure.

Sure your both shuffling along but soon your jump from one cliff to another and he's worried you'll fall.

He soon learns this isnt your first rodeo, nor second. It's like you were born into this.

"Here we are," y/n spoke, hoping down onto the pebbly beach, "our subject matter and dinner."

Its a two in onw for sure, catching fish and drawing, intresting idea but for sure something he wouldnt mind doing again.

So you both sit together throughout the sunset and until the night takes over.

It wasnt so bad spending time with one another

You best be sure ya'll spendt the night on that beach.

The next morning you woke up on the beach, warm, and happily swaddled in large arms.

Tempted to go back to bed and temptation wins

You simply roll over and go back to sleep.

You wake up later in a bed.

How much later on you don't know, but you wake up alone and covered in thick blankets.

Sitting up you get out off bed, you're chlothes have been changed.

Your hair braided back for comfort

"You're up."

"Freya?"

She came over with a pot in hand, setting it on the bedside.

"Týr explained to me you were cold to the touch, he was afraid of any sickness." She explained, "thats what happens when you spend your night on a beach shoeless. Do you feel ill?"

"Oh. Uh. No. Im fine." Y/n told, "thank you."

She nodded, "drink this. For security."

Freya poured Y/n a cup, she thankful and took it.

"How are you two getting along?"

"We're fine....I still dont think of him as..."

"A partner?"

Y/n nodded, "Suppose I am selfish-"

"Its arranged. It's normal to feel such a way. With your conditions especially."

You were quiet as you drank your tea. So Freya knew about what happened to you...

She talks to you a bit more about Týr mostly, and you answer the best you could

Your little "date" with him yesterday didnt go bad after all

"He cares very much about you already. He finds you liberating."

"Whats that suppose to mean?"

"You dont find too many Aesir with hearts tainted that still hold true to there holder."

With that she leaves you, and Thor is walking in.

"I heard a colds the one kick your arse."

"Oh please." Y/n complained, "Come for another ass beatin then?"

"Can't I check on ny friend?"

Y/n shook her head playfully, drinking her tea looking out the nearby window.

"Its good to have you back."

Y/n looked his way, "its nice to be back. Within reason. Cant stand to look at your father or my mothers face for two fuckin seconds."

He laughs at that, and so do you

Its the truth in full honesty.

You cant balme him. Its fucking funny

Yet its all cut short when your mother walks in.

You manage to shoo thor away, as she closes the door behind him.

"Daughter."

She received silence, "Have you slept with him child?"

Y/n sipped her tea.

"Have you fucked thor."

"How the fuck am i suppose to sleep with Thor?" Y/n argued, "He's my friend-"

"What does your husband think about this-"

"He likes my fun." Y/n growled, "and he's not my husband."

"He will be within days time."

"Dont you dare mock me. What are you? Five?"

"Oh please a five year old has more balls and intergerity than you'll ever have." Y/n argued.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaving Y/n to her own devices.

Gladly you were by yourself, with your sketch book on the bed side.

You grab it and look through it looking through yesterday sketches.

The pebble beach was the peice of the day, and some pages included small things you found along the way, a small crab, some seaweed, the fire you two had made

And you had even tried sketching Týr a few times, small portraits

Final you decide to get out of bed and get dressed.

You make your way around, finding Týr talking with Sif.

"I'll leave you to it then."

"Sif hey."

"Y/n." She smiled with a quick bow of the head in acknowledgement, "I'll leave you to be."

Y/n watched her leave, "I am glad you are feeling better.

She looked up at Týr and smiled small, "just cold feet it all. You two talking bout smart people stuff?"

"Uh. A book." He responded.

"Which one?"y/n asked trying to make conversation, "Im assuming there is no war in it?"

It went silent, she confused and raised an eyebrow, "you good?"

"I apologize for lying to you." He started.

"Huh?"

"I was rather asking how to woo you. You seem great friends with Thor, I suppose me and Sif are much more alike in that aspect of partner ship."

Y/n laughed it a cute sentiment: "very thoughtful of you. You want...an opinion? I would consider myself an expert."

"Very much I would."

"be yourself." Y/n smiled softly up at him, " but dont be afraid to ak me the hard questions. I can take em."

He chuckled, a smooth lightheared sound, "then may I ask: would we have been lovers on a diffrent path? One that is not arranged."

Y/n hummed, "i suppose blunt honesty is how I woo you?"

"Most certainly," he smiled, his fingeds coming up to tilt her chin up.

Despite his large form he was soft, and careful, and his touch could make anyone melt.

"I don't know." Y/n answered finally, "Truth be told Im surpised we even get along on the path we're currently on."

"And why do you say that?"

"I did beat your brothers ass at the accounment dinner."

Týr chuckled once more, "I believe that is what started our friendship."

You could only smile at him.

Then realized what the fuck was happening: your sharing your feelings, your open, your melting at a simple chin lift.

Your....developing a crush kinda sort off...

Oh fuck no

So you pull away, telling him you should...go...and well do something

You dont exactly know what your doing but your running away basically

To do what? To hide from your feelings

Top ten places to hide is the wheat farms especially when there ready to be harvested and its all tall.

Soon enough who you thought was Freya comes along with a baby dragon.

"Looks like we have a guest. Y/n? Right?"

"Yeah?"

"Im Freyr. Freyas brother."

"Oh. Nice to meet you."

He took a seat without a care, commented on the sky and got to chatting right away, the baby dragon coming into your lap to play

"Ready for the big day?"

"No."

"Eh. No one ever is."

"I dont want to marry him." Y/n complained, "not now."

"Well then dont." Freyr spoke, "its that easy isnt it?"

"Unfortunately not." Y/n responded.

"Well why not?" He asked, she shrugged.

"Just. Isnt..."

"But you do wanna marry him?"

"Well. No."

"You said not now."

"I can see why Freya is the one that does all the talking,"

"Ooo, ouch." He hissed, "Someone got a little defensive."

"Is there a point? To your madness?"

"Theres always a point to madness is there not? Madness is what makes the world move forward."

"You are confusing."

"Thanks." He smiled settling down in the wheat, his body relaxed with the sun casting down on him, "lay back would you? Your blocking the sun."

Y/n sighed and scooted over allowing the sun to hit him, she just stared at him.

"You gonna ask me a question? Or ya gonna sit there and stare? I know Im beautiful."

Y/n sighed, "what happens if I do love him? I do marry him? My mother wins..."

"Ah yes. I hate her just as much as you do."

"You do?"

"Mhm. My sister and her got into it. While back." Freyr explained, "she hurt her is all I can say. Nasty blow out really."

"So I let her win?"

"From what I know of her she likes control, your out here. Sitting in a feild with another man. And a dragon." Freyr explained turning on his side, "has Týr expressed anything he likes about you to you? I know he has to Freya. Its yap yap yap since the moment he saw you. Yap Y/n Yap Y/n. Did you know Y/n draws? Yap yap yap. Just like that."

Y/n chuckled, the baby dragon gumming on her hand: "I suppose he does like that Im me...without my mother."

"Hm." Freyr hummed, "your mothers miserable anyways. Fuck it, do what you want. What makes you happy."

Y/n hummed in thought, "cheese sounds like it, it would make me happy right now."

Freyr looked at her, "that does sound good."

And thats how you became friends with Freyer, eating cheese outside the meed hall.

Your laughing with him, talking about things: life

Hes talking about his home realm, the beauty of it even inviting you to come

"Hey maybe you'll come on Honeymoon"

"Oh please."

You guys talk until night has long ago fallen.

So late that you hand over the dragon to him because it fell asleep when you part diffrent ways.

You return back to your room being quiet as possible, your sure everyones asleep at this hour.

Týr had fallen asleep with a book in your shared bed

You were quick to change into your bedware, quietly at that too, doesnt help you tripped over your own shoes

You grabbed the book from the bed and marked it for him putting it off to the side as he had many times for her.

Then carefully climbed over him, to find yourself a spot beside him before falling asleep.

#x reader #gow:ragnarok x reader #gow: ragnarok #gow tyr #gow thor #gow x reader #gow headcanons #týr #týr x reader #god of war: ragnarok #god of war: ragnarok x reader #god of war: ragnarok headcanons #platonic thor

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loves-in-the-orange-slices · 1 year

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saw my ex again which was fun yk bc were still really good friends,

but i hadnt been around them in a while??? yk bc of school and its going to sound so cliche and stupid but

id forgotten how pretty they are ?

and how funny and sweet and gentle? and it made me miss them all over again and now idek if i like them or if i still love them like that?

bc of course i love them were best friends but thinking about them that way again??

its been almost half a YEAR i thought i was past this and its not FAIR. its not fair to ME. bc i cant move on and im constantly thinking about them and its esPECIALLY. not fair to THEM bc they dont want this yk??? in october we talked and this doesnt work we dont work and were finally getting back to normal and close again and now my stupid head has to get all confused and its not FAIR.

and i MISS them so much and when we were together last they kissed my cheek as a joke bc our group jokes like that and i was fine it was sweet but i want to kiss them back and kiss their eyes and mouth and nose and be close to them and hold their hand and face and press my forehead to theirs

and its not fair bc they dont want that and its not fair bc we wont have that and i wont have that

but i cant stop thinking about them and its been so. long. and its just not fair

and i had to see all those little things they do that are so cute and stupid and funny and it just makes me want to hug them and cling to them and.

like when they smile their nose crinkles up a little?? and sometimes when theyre nervous theyll fidget with their bracelets or pant hems??

and when youre right up next to their face and they look over at you and your eyes meet and its so silent but they smile at you like you both have a secret you share

and i wanted to kiss them of smile back but i was so nervous so i backed up and started messing with my dress and

i walked away from them

and i want to go back and i want to just spend hours looking into their eyes like we did before

and now someone else is getting close to them the way i was before and i dont know if they mean anything by it im sure they dont but it makes me resent them so. much. and i feel terrible because were all best friends and were all close

but im so absolutely terrified that theyll get closer than we were and they wont want me around anymore and it makes me so jealous and angry and i want to just shut them both out

and then i feel so guilty bc so what???? they dont belong to me they never did and they never will and they can do whatever they want i shouldnt care

and if they want to be close and more with someone then fine bc its not my decision or businesses and i wish i could just turn off my head and just stop existing and just stop everything

in 3 weeks they come home for summer vacation and im so afraid to be near them again but i also just cant wait for them to be home

yea funzies lol anyways i like this song very relevant

#vent #emotions #thoughts #its giving heartache #i need comfort #heartbreak #heartache #heartsick #heartbroken #love #lovesick #love notes to no one #hopelessly in love #vent blog #vent tag #ventcore #Spotify

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adowbaldwin · 3 years

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Because im sick and feel all icky and sad bcz im a lil bitch

Baldwin did not know why he agreed, as he came closer to the door the rationale became far less reasonable.

"Baldwin" the door flung open before he could knock, a disgruntled Matthew greeted him "thankyou" he patted him on the back as he made haste from their home in New haven

"Libsaber" Diana muttered, toast dangling out of her mouth. She pulled it free for a moment just to give him a friendly peck on the cheek and utter her grattitude. He faintly heard her say something about tomato soup and medicine as she huddled into the car.

He had babysat before, a handful of times but the children were never ill.

God what have i gotten myself into he murmered to himself walking into their house. It was silent mostly, a faint tick of a clock echoed the silent house. He had been accustomed to the twins bounding down the hallway and bulldosing into him, but today no such things occured. He gently pushed the bedroom door open to see them sound asleep and decidedly he left them.

He settled himself into the living room, fingers furiously typing away as he worked remotely. Just because he was babysitting did not mean he had to stop bankrupting his competitors.

Feet scufflled along the floor, snot heavy as Philippe sniffled "Uncle" the boy was red faced, blanket wrapped around him tightly "i feel icky" his lip wobbled

Baldwin had little capacity for softness and it dwindled around sick warmbloods. He may have sacked an employee for sneezing during a board meeting. This though was entirely different "what are you doing out of bed, hmm?" He used a softer voice towards the boy for once and leant down "you should sleep"

He darted his tongue out like a lizard "water"

He hoisted him up around his hip, adjusting him so the blanket remained firmly snug around his body and carried him to the kitchen "you want anything else?" He asked, handing over the sippy cup.

Philippe shook his head, took little gulps of his tepid water. Before Baldwin had a chance to bring him back to his room, Becca had padded down to the kitchen "Uncy, my tummy hurts" she wined, rubbing her hands in a semi circle over it

He sighed, her usual cheerful face was all dejected and sorrowful. He almost felt something like pity, but it couldnt of been because he did not pity. Not even his adored Niece.

"Come here Cara" with grace and ease he had both of them in his arms, one on each hip whilst he made up Beccas hot water bottle.

He had hoped to continue working, instead he found himself sandwiched between the children on the sofa with the disney film Toy Story 1 on. He cannot confirm or deny if he liked it, but he did much agree Buzz was up his own arse and deserved being taken down a peg or two, much like Matthew.

"Alright, alright bud calm down" Baldwin tried to soothe Philippe, but he was puking and crying and it was awful. He had a carrot on his shoes for christ sake! Baldwin continued to rub his back, small circles as he held the peppa pig shaped bowl. The boy sagged back against him when the ordeal was over, cheeks still red from crying "come here" Baldwin held his nose as he blew into the tissue, all gruesome unkown things spraying out of his nose into the Kleenex.

The twins made a noise of discontent as he stood up "im going to wash this bowl out and i will be right back okay, i wont be a moment" they curled into eachother, patiently waiting his return.

He had taken a second longer then they liked, so they toddled off to find him "will you read us a story in bed?"

He wished he hadnt turned around, those doe eyes, downcast faces melting his hard core "alright, alright" he dried off the now clean bowl, scooped them up and took them back to bed. They had been sharing in the spare room since they were ill, wanting to cuddle up with one another instead of their usual seperate rooms "what would you like to read?"

"The Gruffalo" they echoed at the same time

"A mouse took a stoll through the deep, dark wood" ..... "The Gruffalo, why didn't you know? He has knobbly knees" the children flittered in and out of sleep as he read, and he would never admit to it but he changed his voice depending on the character. Both Becca and Philippe thought he did a better job then Daddy, his Owl was terrible.

He watched them sleep, little eyes fluttering as they were shut, Becca would sometimes scrunch her nose and Philippe had the start of an adorable snore. Of course no one thought it cute when Baldwin snored, but to hell with everyone else.

Some hours later, they both began to rise from their slumber, hunger finally setting into their tummys "well someones hungry" he hadnt moved, fear of waking them too early "your mother said you have tomato soup"

They looked at eachother and pouted "juicy juice"

He tried, Lord knows he tried to get them to have soup but neither of them would take it. They behaved like 1950s students being fed codliver oil; repulsed and sickened. He sighed deeply, reconciling his death for feeding them juicy juice. He had watered the blood down mostly, Beccas less so then Philippes but it was enough of a crime for either 1) his death or 2) his decapitation or 3) being banned from seeing the children. Either way, Diana would not be pleased.

Diana and Matthew both left work slightly early, both assuming Baldwin would have had a breakdown but were pleasently shocked to find them being dried off after a bath "Philippe chucked up on himself, which then made Becca puke up" Baldwin ruffled her hair with the towel, both now sporting respective Disney pyjammas "ill send you the dry cleaning bill for my bomber jacket"

"Right, thats it i quit" they both looked up pouting "no your father can put you to bed, i have a bank to empty"

"Bye Bye Uncle" pouting gave way to sleepy eyes and quickly they fell into Matthews arms and back to bed they went

"Thankyou for watching them today, neither of us could get out of work, Marcus was busy too" Diana had been worried all day, panic at the images rushing her mind

"I am quiet capable of taking care of sick children Diana" he quickened his pace for the door "though next time ask everyone in the family, Stasia, Ransom heck time walk and ask my father" he mused

"you wont let that go, will you?"

"Goodbye sister" he said finally, slight teasing anguish still lingering in his tone "Oh and they didnt want soup so i gave them juicy juice OKAY BYE" he yelled over his shoulder as he ran to his car and drove away fast.

He had also put his phone on airplane mode to avoid the scathing calls, texts and emails.

#adow #a discovery of witches #fic #baldwin montclair

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yeoldontknow · 3 years

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❧ check in tag

tagged by the sweetest angel @propinqxity to do this little tag. this is such a cute list of questions, and some of these i dont think ive been asked before. thank you so much for the tag and the tumblr crush mention lovely. you truly are a bright spot on this website and i mean that sincerely <333

going under a cut because im certain i will ramble ~

1. Why did you choose this url?

its sort of like a pun between yall dont know and the fact that, hopefully, sincerely, chanyeol does not in fact know that i run this blog lmao i changed to this after a long time of being bread-jinie and i wanted to rebrand. i will, however, do my best to never change URLs again because the masterlist switch over was a complete hassle

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

i have a fic recs blog called @yeoldontknowiread. as to why i have it, i know it hasnt been updated in ages since ive been kind of on hiatus, but i think reading and sharing work on this platform is immensely important. i actually read quite a lot of fanfiction, and i try my best to share the things i read. im very very behind on recs at the moment cause i try my best to write something substantial for every recommendation i make. as a writer, i know exactly the kinds of thoughts and feedback on fics that make my heart soar so i try to put in the same energy to my recs. community is only fostered when there is reciprocation

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

hmmm since april 2017. i actually had my 4 year anniversary this year and i did have plans for things but i got roped into real life things and couldnt celebrate the way i truly wanted to :(

4. Do you have a queue tag?

no but sometimes i think i should. i view tags as a library on top of my knee jerk response to things. most of my tags are just my initial thoughts or feelings at any given moment, so those take precedence over a specific queue tag

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

when i was getting into exo, i was reading fanfiction like crazy. i used to write fanfic quite a lot in other fandoms, but at that time i hadnt written anything in about 2.5 years. exo was the first re-introduction to that feeling of excitement and inspiration. after about 3 weeks of straight reading, i decided i wanted to write again. i wrote the prologue to hero in about two hours and tried logging into AO3 to post it. sadly i forgot all of my log in information because it had been years, and was getting frustrated. i really wanted to put it somewhere out of fear that id lose interest if i didnt do something with it, and everything id read had been on tumblr. so i made a tumblr just to put hero lmao i didnt have any mutuals. it was a blog with straight 0. i hadnt even created an account to interact with writers before that moment, i really thought id be a silent reader forever. but exo woke me back up and for that i am eternally grateful.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

the yours music video is...so stunning? like the colour theory throughout the whole thing is truly so inspiring and gorgeous. and this shot of chanyeol looking at the painting took my breath away, truly. tulips and the color of peach, like do you know how evocative that is? ugh

7. Why did you choose your header

my header was made by @jamaisjoons for my birthday this year because shes literally the most talented person when it comes to graphics. and this was so kind of her to do, i cried a lot

8. What's your post with the most notes?

uhm....either the body through time or truth i cant remember which but i checked recently and its one of those

9. How many mutuals do you have?

honestly at this point im not even sure. i know ive lost a bunch while i was on hiatus because i was basically a dead blog, and some people do dash cleanses. and im certain others have left, too, for their own reasons. still, i have a good core of friends though who are active and that is enough for me

10. How many followers do you have?

more than i probably deserve

11. How many people do you follow?

399

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

uhm i guess? there was a time when nng was not updated and every wednesday id post the days go by music video in sadness and grief but im not a big shitposter. if i make a text post its usually a life update or me crying about chanyeol, theres no inbetween lmao

13. How often do you use Tumblr every day?

tbh i havent used tumblr that often, not since march i think. i used to use it many times a day, checking in on friends and stuff, but once i started focusing on my phd applications i was only here sporadically. i didnt make an announcement either, just let my blog run on queue so i wasnt totally gone. i think i was checking in twice a week or maybe once every two weeks to refill my queue and check mentions etc. but now that my interviews are done im trying to get back on here daily to reconnect

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

ive had my share of disagreements with people and any details about those situations shall remain as they are meant to: private

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?

in what context? like, you need to reblog this or your wish wont come true? or like, please reblog this to spread the word/spread awareness, etc? in the case for the former, i scroll right by. in the case of the latter, if im around and see someone raising a go fund me or some major event is occurring and i find a post with good sources or charities i will reblog. mostly though, the full extent my activism isnt really on this blog. its my escape from reality. my activism is usually placed on other platforms.

16. Do you like tag games?

i doooo!!! theyre so fun i love learning about my friends

17. do you like ask games?

i love those too! theyre so cute and usually a nice way to have interaction immediacy with people in the community

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

no one. can we please abandon this notion of fame on tumblr? arent we all here to write about some dick and some smut and some fluff and then hang out together and log off? lmao tumblr isnt reality and followers/fame is so arbitrary on this platform, no one has any control over any of it

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

i am in love with so many people here. let me name a few:

@yehet-me-up @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @j-pping @jamaisjoons @inkedtae @kookdiaries @yoonia @dulcetvk @kithtaehyung @imdifferentshadesofpurple @ditzymax @sugaurora @sahmbtsficrecs @junghelioseok @yeojaa @augustbutwinter @joonscore @btssavedmylifeblr @cutechim @sunshinekims @kimtaehyunq @ouvuo @delhyun @exo-stentialism @sooibian @softyoongiionly @jinseunie @zibermuda @bratkook @1kook @luffles424 @xjoonchildx

and so many other people and mutuals that i am certainly forgetting. love is such an expansive feeling, and it encompasses platonic ardor and creative desire. i admire every single person listed for so many different reasons, and cherish and treasure them or what they provide to the community. love is such an important and broad experience. truly, i hope they feel adored every single day x

#check in tag

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dirt-cup-draco · 3 years

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Fred Weasley x Reader- Better To Have Loved and Lost Part 2/2

Previously:

I really do love you Fred. You thought and hoped some part of him would feel comforted as you prayed he came to understand what he meant to you.

It was better to have loved and lost Fred Weasley than to have continued to love him and been the cause for his misery.

The war had been won and it was cause for much relief but as you wiped the tables at the Leaky Cauldron you pondered over why you still couldn’t smile right, why the laughs that spilled past your lips were cold and haughty, why when you went home to Ian, it still didn’t feel like home.

You knew the answer but refused to see it, refused to let yourself feel the fury and the loss that came from following your parents’ every wish. They’d been delighted when your sister had introduced you to Ian once the war ended. Turns out the both of you had been helping rebuild Hogwarts and you just hadn’t been lucky enough to run into each other.

He was sweet and you didn’t mind his attention but it all felt wrong even if there was hardly a bad thing you could say about him. Your sister could have, and you were surprised she hadnt, picked far worse for you. You only wished that she didn’t feel the need to. You’d been happy with what you had, four months of bliss with the redhead who still had your heart, and now you were forced to live a life you resented.

Ian was much like you, his family ruled his life. You were both the worst sort of coward. In some ways, it made you feel close to him. You had found a friend, at the very least. You told yourself to just be happy with that.

Working in Diagon Alley made it very hard to be happy with that.

You saw Fred and George Weasley in their shop but thankfully hadn’t run into them yet at the pub in which you worked, the very entrance to Diagon Alley. It was a godsend their home was above the shop and you wouldn’t have to see them come and go past your door. Despite being removed from their lives, you kept what tabs you could, especially after the war.

You’d seen Fred with a white sheet tucked over him, the sheet bloodied over his leg and dried blood at his temple. He’d been gone for a moment, George had said. They thought they’d lost him, they almost had. You were lucky to see him only sleeping and healing from his wounds. You’d made George promise that he’d never seen you there. One look at the pain in your eyes and George had nodded and let you go.

Now, you wished you would’ve stayed. You wanted to have held Fred’s hand until he woke and then you wanted to apologize for every lie you’d ever told him. Even now you found it hard to restrain yourself from heading to number 93 diagon alley and running into their shop only to fall to your knees and beg he understood why you lied and left him.

“Your shift ended ten minutes ago,” A gruff voice came from behind you and you shook yourself from you thoughts, looked to your boss, took your pay for the day, and then exited into the cool air of night. You could just as easily apparate home but you much preferred to walk. You liked to give yourself time to just be you. You didn’t have to pretend you and Ian were in love, you didn’t have to pretend you were happy with your life, you didn’t have to pretend that you weren’t in love with Fred Weasley.

You let a few tears fall but not enough to cause your eyes to grow puffy or your cheeks to become red. Ian had seen you cry enough as you both lamented on how you didn’t know how to leave one another when both of your families expected marriage, kids, happiness with each other. You didn’t want to make him feel like it was his fault, because you knew you made him just as miserable.

He wouldn’t expect you until late.

As you walked past the shop, you noticed that the main lights had been turned out but a few stayed lit on the inside as the twins walked around to catalog their product, clean up whatever mess had been made under the feet of children and adults alike, and then retire to their apartment upstairs. Only a small amount of shame burned in your veins as you took a seat that was cloaked in the shadow of night to watch the boys get to work. George was wearing an orange blazer and Fred had on a purple vest that fit him perfectly.

“She’s out there again,” George sing-songed to his twin as he looked from the corner of his eye to see your familiar profile leaning sitting on the curb across from their shop. It was cute that you thought the night alone was enough to hide you.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fred grunted, frown etched deeply into this features as George tried to get a rise from him. “She never comes in, don’t even know why she-”

“You know why Y/N sits out there,” George stated and Fred wanted to believe that George was right but it was hard to with those four words constantly bouncing around in his head. I don’t love you.

“She-”

“Bloody hell, you can say her name at least,” George scolded and Fred whirled around to meet his brother’s eye, stomping the ground with his cane.

“No! She made her choice and if she wants to right it then she has to take the first step. I wont say her blasted name until she gets the guts to tell me why she did it. I can’t love her if she’s always going to be under her family’s thumb and I’m sure I’ll hear about wedding invitations for her and that skinny bloke before I hear an explanation,”

“I think she wanted to when you were hurt- apologize and explain I mean,”

George was a good man and so for your sake he hadn’t told Fred immediately but Fred was his other half and neither of them kept the habit of keeping things from one another. Fred had been sulking in his bed one evening after finding an old necklace of yours mixed in with his things and he wasn’t even sure how the damn thing had managed to come with him from Hogwarts and stay tucked out of sight until he’d stumbled upon it.

It had thrown Fred for a loop and he’d silently cried into his firewhisky for nearly an hour before George had taken the thin chain from his brother’s hands and told him that you had never stopped loving him. Of course, you hadn’t told George that, but he could tell from the way you went pale at the sight of Fred unmoving. Fred had only been sleeping but the fear on your face had been palpable and heartbreaking.

It had helped ease the pain then but George knew now that Fred was waiting for something to prove that it wasn’t a lie, that you did still love him, that you’d been made somehow to leave him heartbroken.

“She’s leaving,” George sighed, nodding his head towards your back as you began to move towards your home which was another twenty minutes walk away.

“Good,” Fred hissed but as he looked after you he saw the heavy slump of your shoulders and the way your hair was falling loose from your ponytail and George say his twin’s gaze soften and melt.

“If you dont go and talk to her I’m going to bring her in here,”

“What? Hey!” Fred began to argue as George decided to take matters into his own hands if neither of you would. Fred had gotten quick enough with the use of his cane and he grabbed George’s arm to stop him from pushing open the door but his younger twin used this to his advantage and opened the door after pushing Fred against it.

“You git!” Fred hollered at the door, George now safely tucked inside with a smug grin. Fred went to grab his wand to unlock the door but George’s grin only grew wider as he waved Fred’s wand at him from behind the locked glass doors. “Let me in!”

Fred’s voice ricocheted off the buildings and you weren’t so far that you couldn’t hear the voice that you had missed dearly. It was a bit deeper now but you could still tell that it was his. You were frozen, feet paused on the cobblestone as Fred yelled at George. Why had George locked him out? You turned to watch as Fred shoved his shoulder against the door but with a sigh and a swing of his cane that did nothing to change George’s mind, Fred stopped yelling and stopped trying to get back in.

Fred looked down the street and found you were watching.

“He won’t let me in until I talk to you, you know,” Fred raised his voice just so you could hear him. You weren’t far but he couldn’t see the details of your face, couldn’t see what color shirt you had on under your jacket. Far enough that his voice didn’t quiver like he feared it would as he spoke his first words to you in years.

Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Of course the both of them had seen you all the nights you’d spent as they’d closed up their shop. You hadn’t tried to stay hidden but you had hoped that a stranger on the street would escape their notice.

Your voice was caught in your throat but you took a step towards Fred, then two. Then you were arms length away from him and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “He’s a git,” You finally achieved in speaking and Fred let out a bark of laughter.

“Years we haven’t talked and the first thing you say is an insult to my favorite person on the planet,” Fred chuckled, shaking his head good-naturedly when a sudden look of worry flashed on your face. “No, I suppose you’re right he is a bit of a git,”

“Didn’t mean to get you kicked out of the shop,”

“He was tired of me never saying anything when you....visit.” Fred decided on. Were you visiting? Watching? He wasn’t quite sure what your intentions were when you sat outside but he hoped it meant you missed him like he missed you.

“Fred I-”

“Did you know I found a necklace of yours a couple months ago? Somehow it’d gotten tangled on the thread of an old shirt of mine and I just stumbled upon it looking through my closet... Was a bit of a wreck after that. Must’ve been so pitiful because Georgie told me something I don’t think he was supposed to,”

“O-oh?” You squeaked, eyes growing wide with curiosity and a bit of fear. You still couldn’t read Fred. Was he upset? Was he sad? Or was he completely over it all? You weren’t sure how you’d feel if he had moved on completely. You prayed that what he had felt months ago finding your necklace was still present within his heart.

“Told me when I was sleeping after I’d been hurt that you’d come ‘round and just sat with me for a second before he’d come over. Said you didn’t want me knowing you’d been there. Why didn’t you want me knowing?”

His voice had become strained and his honey brown eyes followed your every move as you fidgeted in place, all the color vanished from your face.

“Didn’t think it would matter to you if I had been there or not, so why confuse you with the news that I had been there and scared to death that you were gone?” You choked out, thinking of Fred no longer being here to live and laugh and bring those things to other people was impossible to bear.

“I’ve been confused since the day you left me, Y/N,” Fred winced as your name rolled past his lips and you hated that you could see heartbreak in every line of his face and the slope of his lips.

“Was for your own good Freddie,” You said and you still believed it. “Still is, I know things are different after the war but my family is still- Well my mum and sister are still in control and I can’t-”

“Yeah, right,” Fred scoffed bitterly but let his eyes soften as he realized your father must have passed in the battle. “You can’t do anything without their permission. How's that going by the way? Does that poor guy you got strapped with realize you don’t love him? Does he even love you? Great way to live, Y/N,”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve Fred Weasley,” You sniffled, the venom in his words bringing tears to your eyes. “If I didn’t leave you, Emily would’ve destroyed your reputation, destroyed any chance of the two of you and George ever having this shop and destroyed you and I in the process. She’s not the most powerful witch but she’s got my mom’s money lining her pockets and enough of it to convince other people to listen to what she says. I left so you could live out your dream,”

“What about now? I’ve got the life I want and I’m not scared of your family, so why are you? Don’t you realize we could have figured something out together?”

“I just...things can’t be different,”

Fred watched you and he felt his stomach turn to steel. You truly believed nothing could ever change. He shook his head sadly, grounding his cane against the pebbles beneath his feet when his leg grew tired. His knuckles were white and hands cold. How long had you two been out here? Nothing had been solved and when Fred looked at you he felt like nothing ever could be. You’d given up.

“I want to love you Y/N, I do love you,” Fred admitted, watching your breath catch in your throat. “But when I look at you, I don’t see the girl I fell in love with. I-If I thought that you could leave what-his-name-”

“Ian,” You supplied for no reason other than to keep your tears at bay.

“If I thought that you could leave Ian and defy your mum, I’d ask you to be mine right away.”

“Why do you think that I can’t?” You wanted to reach out to him, to tell him you could figure out something, but the pit in the bottom of your gut was telling you otherwise. Even now you were scared of your family.

“You know why. Or should I ask you to be mine?”

“I am yours,” You chewed on your lip, unable to meet his eyes as you spoke the truth. “Never stopped being yours, but-”

Fred scoffed. “Exactly... It’s always going to be something Y/N. I miss you and trust me I do love you but if you can’t promise that you aren’t going to spook at the first sign of trouble from your family then I don’t think we can be together again,”

“What if I lied to them?” You begged, finally getting enough courage to grab Fred’s arm and you felt your stomach flip as you caught scent of his cologne. He hadn’t changed it since school.

“I deserve more than that,” Fred sighed. “I can’t be a secret, Y/N. And I know it wouldn’t be everyone but what does that lie mean? Does that lie mean you’ll stay with Ian and I’ll just be a late night call after you’re done with work? Does it mean I’ll only go to your place when he’s gone? I can’t be that for you,”

“Y-you’re right,” You sighed and Fred felt his heart break all over again. You wouldn’t change, not even for him.

“Goodbye Y/N,”

And with that, he was shuffling back into his shop, the door having been unlocked the second Fred had turned away from it.

Not trying to hide your tears this time, you apparated home and when Ian caught your eye, he didn’t ask. You locked yourself in your bedroom and didn’t come out.

“It’s too bloody early for this,” Fred grumbled, head pounding and eyes burning as he shuffled from his bed to his apartment’s door. Neither of the twins usually got visitors past the lobby of the shop so he was surprised when a rapid knocking had rung out while he’d been sulking in his arm chair.

George had awarded him the day off with a, “Get back in bed, you’ll scare off a;; the customers today and I don’t feel like losing the money.” Fred was thankful for it after he’d spent the previous day in bed after he’d spoken with you. Why hadn’t he been enough for you?

His scowl was ready on his face when he flung the door open. You stood there with a bashful smile and without a second thought, Fred slammed the door closed.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Fred asked through the wood.

“George let me up,” You called back.

“Doesn’t mean I want to see you,” He shot back and your heart lurched uncomfortably.

“What if I told you you wouldnt be a secret? That I spent the last two days removing myself from my family and moving to a different flat? That I’m a coward and a fool but I know better now and I don’t ever want to let you go again, if you’ll have me....”

“I’d say that’s a bit quick,” Fred mumbled, eyebrows knit together as he opened the door back and you let out a breath of relief. He was listening at least.

“Been wanting to leave them for ages, been ready to just vanish at the drop of a hat but I never had the courage and I didn’t think I had it but you’re right and I’m not living much of a life. I’m tired of being their puppet and I’m tired of breaking the heart of someone I only want to make happy,”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,”

You hated seeing Fred so guarded but you knew he had more than enough reasons to be. You’d been terrible to him and made him believe that he couldn’t believe a word you said. The lies were over now.

“I love you Fred Weasley and I left once to protect your future but now I’m back and asking you to let me protect your heart,”

When Fred wrapped his arms around you and held tight, you squeezed back just as ferociously. Never again would you make him feel like you didn’t love him with everything within you. If your mother and sister tried to ruin your happiness, you would have him by your side to fight back.

You finally felt at home.

#fred weasley xreader #fred x reader #fred weasley #fluff #angst #request

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chronicallywasting · 3 years

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Minor spoiler warning for things im working on below the cut!!

[Long post]

So lets start of with the story. At first it was gonna be how an enderman and an axolotl hybrid would interact. Sort of inspired by @ nachosforfree's one oc poat with a piglin and an enderman (i dont wanna tag lol).

The character Aether (who i named myself after) was originally from a different story, which one of my first artworks on here is from.

Ester was an entirely new character at the time, meant to be the companion of Aether, who already had an existing personality and backstory.

AETHERS DEVELOPMENT

Aether's original design was sort of meant to be an avatar for a fnaf fan comic i was working on. The avatar was just for authors notes and qnas and was in a much more cartoony style.

After I dropped that, I took that character (who was named Auden at the time) and turned it into Aether. (Fun fact: Aether originally used she/her pronouns, which is present in theur backstory) You can still see the original character at GoldSad-OnO on deviantart, my abandoned account.

At this point I had tuned Aether into a phantom. They sported my black and white hoodie, some oversized jeans, and a fnaf puppet mask (which I still plan on using for certain things) no skin or hair was shown.

After I got into dsmp, I wanted to turn them into a dsmp-sona. They were introduced as an axolotl hybrid then. I also wanted to have them have did (or another related personality disorder) obviously planning on doing plenty of research as to not misrepresent people with said disorder.

It was then theyre original backstory was created.

They were from a wealthy family underwater, and was an only child. Theyre father left when they were 6 and their mother was killed at a party 2 years later.

Aether was originally around 14, but after some development, was aged up to be an adult.

(Around this time I also used the same character, minus the system, as a character in a vent world i created)

After a while, I dropped the system aspect of them, and developed their character even more.

They were no longer a dsmp sona as well. I gave them the story before I created Ester after that development.

The story was about Aether and an unnamed character (i forgot the name) a deer hybrid who fell in love and wished for immortality but didnt get what they wanted.

They were cursed, one of them gaining immortality and the other being reincarnated with any and all past memories integrated into their minds untul they found each other, where they would switch roles and the process would start over again. This would happen until they fell out of love and moved on.

When the 1.17 update came out, I had created Ester to go along with Aether, dropping the previous story.

Aether was given theyre original backstory back, mixed in with themes of reincarnation.

Theyre backstory looked a little like this at this point:

Aether was raised as the princess of atlantis, an underwater city full of merlings and fullbreds (Ill explain those terms later) with their sisters, Adrian and Savannah. They lived a fairly normal life, as normal as it can be with an absent father.

Around the age of 14, their mother was killed at a banquet held for the people. They and their sisters escaped unharmed. They started gaining memories that werent theirs, learning they had lived hundreds of times before.

The beginning, before this reincarntaion process, was the first monster-human hybrid, a phantom hybrid. The hybrid was alone and asked a witch to give them friends, and so the witch became a friend.

The hybrid found some other nocturnal hybrids that they she made friends with, leaving the witch behind. The witch felt betrayed and cursed an eternal life spell- with a twist.

Now, Aether raises theyre younger siblings, and met Ester in the nether, where they were getting attacked by a piglin.

As of currently, ive scrapped that (or the most part) and Aether had become the god of the sky for my current project :)

ESTERS DEVELOPMENT

Ester is a fairly recent character. He's stayed the same for the most part- in terms of both character design an personality. He's kinder, and dislikes a newer character, Teleb (king of the end)

His character formerly was a bit flirty, and had liked Aether as more than just a friend.

He's the former general of the Ender royal guard and close friend of the queen of the end.

I havent done much for his character, and dont plan on doing so in the future. He will still be a character, but will be played by someone else ;)

TELEBS DEVELOPMENT

Teleb is more recent than Ester, created as a way to create conflict in the plot.

He was manipulative and had cheated on his wife, the queen, more than once. He wanted total control and hadnt cared for his child at all, only wanting a powerful heir. Overall, he was a horrible character, and meant to be so. He wasnt meant to gain any sympathy points from anyone, as he had no redeeming qualties.

The only major design change was his eyes going from purple to green.

Now, (hopefully) his character will be having more redeeming qualities, and maaaybe have some pining over mx. sky god over there

PAST STORY AND ITS LORE

The past story, going fro RE:➡Silent since June➡current form was a story with the main characters being Aether and Ester. Esters goal was to find the missing prince and Aethers was to find a home for them and their siblings.

It had many different species in its lore, including merlings (aquatic hybrids), quadrupedians (four-legged mammal hybrids), avians (flightless bird hybrids), elytrians (hybrids with wings that can fly), enderians (hybrids of end creatures), insectoids (hybrids with insects and arachnids), netherspawn (hybrids of nether creatures), mobspawn (monster hybrids), shifters (hybrids that can shift from an animal to hybrid to other animal/human/mob), and fullbreds (non-hybrids).

Different hybrids had their own civilzations and sub species. Shifters could only shift from one speices to another and had sub groups (ie. Dolphin shifter, Hoglin Shifter, Spider Shifter, etc.)

INTRODUCTION OF THE NEWEST VERSION OF THE STORY

This story has been revised, now taking the for of an smp :) it will be called the Passivesmp and will have multiple elements of the past story integrated into it. Hopefully, itll use the origins mod for extra detail and will be story-based.

There are some pre-existing characters that will need to be played, me taking on two of them: Passive and Aether.

The other pre-existing characters that need played are Teleb and Ester. Some extra roles are "the queen" and "the prince".

There wont be any applications of sort as i will ask friends i know if they wanna join. Instead of streaming it, it will be posted on my youtube channel which currently has no videos on it.

I wont tell any parts of the story ideas I have, as i want that to be a surprise. I hope to see you then!

#minecraft #minesona #my writing #dsmp #long post

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chicagopd2020 · 4 years

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New Beginnings Are Good For Everyone Ch.5

Waking up the next morning was one of the easiest things she ever done, which was weird because she hated monday mornings so much. But getting up and going through her morning routine just to make sure everything is right before she heads out for her first day as member of the Chicago PD Intellgence Unit. Kim had a little extra pep in her step and she was happy about it because it hadnt been there in a long time. She grabbed her jacket & keys ready to walk out the door. She stops for coffee to make sure that doesnt hit a wall in the middle of the day.

Kim walks into the station and she sees Sargent Platt, she decides that the best thing to do is to talk to her and to see what she is suppose to do. She stands there silently as Sargent Platt finishes the conversation with the officers in blue. When Trudy looks up and notices Kim she tells the officers to move along. She welcomes her back and asks if she is ready for her first day.

Kim replies happily that she was more than ready to prove herself to everyone. She kept small conversation with Trudy until Trudy looks behind her and notices one of the members of the Intelligence Unit.

Upton?

Yes Sargent?

You know Agent Kim Burgess?

Yes I know Kim

Well would mind buzzing her upstairs with you just until we can get her into the system.

Of course, follow me Kim and show you where you are going to start spending most of your time

Oh I cant wait.

I promise you that will change, I love my job but you have no time for a personal life.

I guess that it is a good thing that I am a woman focusing on her career right now and not a romantic relationship.

They carry on with their conversation with their small climb of the stairs, Hailey walks her to Voights office and wishes her good luck even though she knows she will see her in just a couple mins.

Kim welcome to your first day as a memeber of intellgence, just want to go over a few things while we wait on the last couple people to show up. He starts going over the rules and not that there was many rules but he lives strongly by the few rules that he has.

Kim has noticed that Hank Voight is not your normal Sargent but she wasnt wanting normal she was just wanting to serve justice for the city of Chicago. She continues to listen intently to what Voight is saying taking everything he was saying to the heart so she knows what not to do to get on his bad side. I am going to give you a few weeks to study everything, I have set up your test in two weeks for you detective exam. The moment finally comes to where he asks if she had any questions

I will make sure that I study up on everything that I need to know so that I can pass the test of my first try. I say things like that so I can keep it in my mind that I will pass the test and that I can do anything I put my mind to.

I know that everyone is partnered up with someone, I was just curious who my partner was going to be? I know that no matter who I am with that I will have a great partner. This team just seems like they have each others back no matter if they are actually partners or not.

That we do Kim we are family here, Whatever one member of the intellgence is going through everyone feels the pain, I know that it is weird to say buts it true. We have our fights like any of family but at the end of the day we will have each others back no matter what.

That is exactly what I want because at the FBI yes it was everyone worked as a team but at the end of the day everyone was only watching out for theirselves and if they had the chance to do it they would throw someone under the bus in a heartbeat. That was until Erin came I knew that she would have my back no matter what and she was the only thing that I was going to the miss about it and that was it.

Good to hear Kim, he looks out the window and notices that the whole team is here. Come on lets go out to the bullpin and I will let everyone know all at once who you are going to partnered with.

The door opens and everyones eyes looks toward the door and sees Kim and Hank exiting, Hank finally speaks up, So as everyone of you know Agent Burgess as of today is officially a member of Intellgence and I think she is going to be an amazing addition to the team and I want you all to make her feel at welcome. So as of today Burgess you are going to partnered up with Halstead, Upton you will be with Ruzek and Atwater you will be Olinksy.

Hailey showed Kim where her desk would be, which was actually her old desk. Hank liked the partners to be close to each other that shows they can work as a team not only on the street but in the close quarters of an office.

The first couple hours was kind of quiet just everyone going over cases they had been working on. When Voight walks out of the office and catches all of their attenion.

We have a case, We are looking at a small drug smuggling team that is somewhat new to the city, and one of the leaders of the team is trying to look normal or something because he has a nine to five job and he doesnt live in these high priced homes to make it not look so obvious but the others, they are staying hid very well because there has been no trace of any clues as to who any of his partners are. This is Lorenzo Lopez he is best known as Enzo.

Kim finally looks away from the file in her hands and takes a look at the picture hanging on the board, and her eyes go huge. She looks over a Jay and they share this look knowing that this was the neighbor that Jay thought was very sketchy. Voight must have caught onto that look, cause he questioned them.

What is that look the two of you just shared?

Well it turns out that he lives in our building and right next door to Kim. He just moved into the apartment a few weeks ago and he seemed kind of sketchy but I never really thought anything of it.

Kim was just lost in her thoughts that she didnt really hear the conversation that was going on. Until Jay tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She slightly jumped that never happens, she just thought that she left him in the past and now she was going to be apart of the team to send him to prison and honestly she cant say that she was upset about it. It was one of the main reasons that she left him she knew that the business that he was in wasnt legal and there was no way in hell that she was going to let him mess up her career.

Kim are you alright?

Yeah, Im just thinking about someway, anyway that we can take him down.

Jay wasnt buying it but it was her first day he wasnt going to push the boundaries just yet. So he just let it go for now.

Halstead you and Burgess go talk to your CI'S and see if they know anything about this. Everyone just keep digging into his past and see what you can dig up.

Kim heard the last sentence and knew that she had to tell someone about her connection to the suspect before someone actually figured it out and wonder why she didnt tell them, so who is best to tell then her partner.

They get into Jay's truck and head out and she knew that if she didnt talk about it now that she never would. She lets out this deep breathe

Jay I need to tell you something.

You can tell me anything. Im here for you

Its about the suspect that we are looking into, you know last night when I said something under my breathe about our sketchy neighbor

Yeah, what about it?

Well, what I didnt tell you is that I know Enzo very very well

How well?

As in we were together for over a year

What?!?!

Yeah, when we first met he was normal like any other guy but then the longer that we were together its like I just didnt get the same vibe from him that I used to. When we would spend time together I would feel uneasy that something could go wrong at any minute. So after that night I just told him that I think that it was best if we seen other people and that I didnt see a future with him. Lets just say that he didnt take it the best and i had to end up moving somewhere else but a few weeks before I found out that I got the job here I felt as if I was being followed and yet somehow we end being neighbors. I didnt want to think nothing much about it when I first set eyes on him but it just seems like he found out from someone that I was moving here and just thought that maybe if he lived here first that I wouldnt think nothing about it.

Kim you definetly have to tell Voight about this

I know I just didnt think that I would ever see him again

Even though you never thought you would see him again doesnt change anything he is our main suspect and you could be the reason he is in Chicago and that may actually lead us to him, I would never actually make you do anything that would put you in danger I hope you know this

I do know this, but whatever helps put him behind bars quicker I am willing to help

Jay talked to a couple of his CI'S and they were not much help, So they started back toward the station when Halstead got a message with an address to meet the rest of the team. As they arrived they seen the team surrounding something on the ground and as they made it to their side they seen that it was a woman who couldnt have been not much older than 25 and she was laying there with a cut throat.

Do we think that this has anything to do with Enzo and his men? Kim questioned

We wont know anything until we get the autopsy back. Says Voight

Sarge is there anyway that I can have a word with you

Yeah, sure

They walked far enough away that nobody would be able to hear what they were talking about. She told him everything that she told Jay and hoped that whatever she told him would help.

Kim I know that wasnt easy to say but I am glad that you told me before we had to find it out on our own and then it would have looked bad on your end and looked like you were hiding something.

Thats what I thought and Jay told me that I should tell you right away and I feel so much better now that I did.

They join back up with the team and all head back to the station. Once they make it back to the station everyone gathers around the board and Voight feels the team in on everything you told him and they tried to figure out what was the best way they could get his guards down long enough for someone to get into his place to bug his apartment or even his phone.

Kim was the first person to speak up.

I think we know the only person that he is going to even let into his apartment is me

Kim you dont have to do this...Voight and Jay say at the same time

Your right I dont but I know that this is my job and that it is the right thing to do. You could always be close enough to that if I feel threathened that you will be right there.

If you are sure that you want to do this then we will do it

Its the furthest from what I want to do but its what I know needs to be done.

Alright everyone we will put everything in motion tonight. So get ready

Kim cant believe she is the one that thought of this but I think in the end its the only thing that would have made sense, Its the only way they will be able to bust him

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #Jay halstead x kim burgess #kim burgess #chicagopd #chicago pd x reader

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fiftyshadesgrl · 4 years

Text

Dean listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone. "Come on baby. Pick up. Please." You had been gone for three days and the winchesters were no closer to finding you than they were 72 hours ago. When your voicemail picked up dean slammed his fist down on the steering wheel, causing sam to jump in the passenger seat. "Damn it!"

Sam placed a hand on his brothers shoulder just to have it shrugged off. "Dean, we'll find her. Shes tough, probably tougher than both of us put together. She knows we will find her."

"What if we dont sammy? What if..." dean couldnt bring himself to say the words. He couldnt - no he wouldnt say it. Sam was right, you were tough. The most badass woman hes ever had the honor to meet and bow share his life with. He will get you back, if he has to open up purgatory or hell or whereever he had to go, you would be found.

A flutter of wings startled both the winchesters as cas appeared in the backseat. "Tell me good news." Dean glanced over his shoulder.

Cas scooted forward, "i dont have any good news." Dean losed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "I found where shes being held."

Deans eyes snapped open, "what the hell cas, thats great news." Cas' brows furrowed, aas dean stared at him. "So? Where is she?"

"Three towns over, an old saw mill that has been abandoned for close to fifty years."

Sam shifted, "gradys saw mill. I know where thats at. South west of here."

Dean spun the car around in the other direction and floored it. Babys engine roaring as she was pushed almost to the max. "Hold on baby. Im coming."

(Y/N)'s POV

I could hear the wind howling through the broken window, chilling my almost naked body. My body shook with cold and trembled because of my muscles ached from being trussed up by hands for so long. These vamps that had me here showed no mercy, which i didnt expect anything more from them. I was a hunter, they knew it and now i was in their grasp.

I wished i had let dean accompany me when i went out for a supply run that day. Maybe i wouldnt have screwed up if he had been by my side. The chains quietly clinked above my head as i moved my hands with the little bit of strength i had left. My arms and shoulders screamed in pain as i tried to move and as always it turned out unsuccessful.

I was weak not only from being strung up like a piece of meat in a butcher shop, but also from blood loss. The vamps had bern feeding from me almost every time they came in torture me. I had bites on my inner thighs, neck, and wrists. Bruises covered my body along with shallow cuts. Im surprised i hadnt got frost bite yet from how cold i was. My face was swollen from the beatings i had recieved and my jaw felt like it was broke. The gag that was in my mouth didnt help the pain either.

My stomach churned when i heard the lock on the door click and it creak open. The one person who hadnt hurt me yet walked in. She was a young woman probably in her early twenties with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. She brought in another bag of IV fluids and replaced the old bag that was empty.

She wasnt like the vamps, her eyes held kindness and pity in them as she looked at me. "Im so sorry." She whispered, "i dont have a choice, i have to do this." I shook my head at her as i tried to talk around the gag and the pain in my jaw.

"Hows our guest? Shes well, i hope." The vamps voice came from the door her head spun towards him as he walked in the room.

"Shes not going to last much longer in these conditions." The woman said as she visibly shrunk away from the vamps touch.

"You are a trained nurse my dear. Im sure you can keep her alive for a while longer." Said the male vamp.

"She...shes hypothermic and anemic. I-i dont have the proper medical equipment here for that."

The vamp circled her like prey, brushing a stray hair behind her ear just before his hand went around her neck. "If you want to see your daughter again, i suggest you keep her alive." Her faced started turning dark red as she struggled for air. "Understand?"

She barely nodded and the vamp smiled sadistically before letting her go. She stbled backwards, falling to one knee as she gasped for air. "Now hook her back up to the monitors and get everything ready." The young woman glanced at me briefly before she got a swift kick to the ribs. "Now!" Roared the man. She scrambled forward towards me, she sakily hooked me up to the heart monitor and placed a blood pressure cuff on my arm.

"Now, while my trusty nurse is preparing for some more fun lets see if youre ready to talk." He pulled the gag from my mouth, i groaned as a pain shot through my jaw and up my face. "How do we open purgatory?" I kept my head down, knowing what was coming if i didnt answer but i didnt care. I will never tell them what they want.

He yanked my head backwards to stare into his eyes. "I wont ask you again." His fist connected with my face causing the pain in the left side of my face to intensify and blood to drip from my mouth. Blow after blow i stayed silent until i heard the nurse speak suddenly.

"I dont have any more of the antibiodics or adrenaline. I need more IV fluids for her as well." For some reason i felt that she was just trying to distract this vamp from killing me.

"That is a problem isnt it." The man walked over to her.

"I can get some more though. A quick run into town, no more than forty five minutes tops." She said quickly.

He brushed his fingers against her cheek, "you wouldnt be trying to escape on me now are ya? Lets not forget..."

"I know," she cut him off, "you have my daughter. Im not going to run, i will not risk her safety."

"Good girl. You have thirty minutes." The man said as the woman ran from the room leaving me and the vamp alone. "You have lady luck on your side today, next time we meet you wont be so lucky." He shoved the gag back in my mouth making me wince in pain.

I held the tears in until i heard the door shut and the lock turn. 'Cas, please if you can hear me. Tell dean i love him and im sorry.' I whispered in my mind. I kept praying to cas over and over and maybe just maybe they will find me.

A/N : this is a preview to a new two to three part series i have been writing. Feedback is always appreciated and if you want tagged let me know.

@holylulusworld @tftumblin @an-unhealthy-obsession @jesseswartzwelder @justanotherwinchester @kingdomkey13 @nikki082489 @tcquotes-blog @thequeenreaders @aubageddon91 @imaginesforthepeople

@elliecapper @ly--canthrope

#deanxreader #spn #deanwinchester #deanwinchesterxreader #angst #spnfanfic #jensenackles

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ladyboltontoyou · 5 years

Text

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Ol’ Fashion Fingers

Ask: ahhh okay so the kinda gross idea! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is on her period and arthur takes care of her, and i mean...we both know he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and also...a bit of blood won’t gross him out right? so maybe...he takes care of her and later...works his magic fingers to makes her feel better? i know it’s probably very gross but my cramps are so extremely bad this month i’m dying i just need some arthur i LOVE your writing btw!

Warning: Fingering, period blood

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: I am so sorry I took so long on this. Whoever sent in the ask, hope you enjoy! (Lmfao at the ‘say no more’ part at the end) Also, they didn’t have tampons or pads back then I don’t think so I used rags, since that’s what I remember women had to use before our ‘luxury’ items.

“Kill me, put a bullet in my skull, please, it would be a mercy.” Your cramps this month were killing you. They hadn’t been this bad in years, not since you first started having them when you were very young.

“That bad?” Arthur asked as he chewed on a some of the candy Hosea had bought for you.

“You have no idea.” You sighed, watching him clean his gun. The two of you were sitting in a room at one of the Taverns in Valentine, you had rented out a room and bought special service to help ease the pain. Every thirty minutes a maid would bring you a fresh cold rag, a hot blanket, and some water. Karen had done it the last time she got her period and said it was one of the best things she’d ever spent money on.

Arthur set his gun down on the dresser and made his way over to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside your feet. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You hummed and looked up, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t know… kiss me?”

Arthur broke into a smile and leaned across you, giving you a quick kiss. “How was that?”

“I still hurt. Kiss me again.”

He kissed you again, longer this time and with more movement. When he pulled back he raised a brow, questioning silently.

“I think it’s working, but I can’t tell. Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” You forced yourself into a sitting position, now face to face with the man.

Arthur let out a sigh, not one of annoyance but rather amusement, and brought you in for another kiss. This time you caught him off guard and slipped your tongue in his mouth, bringing up a hand to run your fingers through his hair. His hat fell onto the ground but neither of you noticed.

The kiss didn’t end as quickly as the others did. Even when he pulled the sheets off of your body your lips remained connected. Even when his hands slid up your legs and gave your thighs a squeeze. You only broke the kiss so you could take your pants off. They were your go-to that time of the month pair, they had holes in the knees and were black so if you had any sort of accident no one would be able to tell.

You had changed your rag not too long ago so it wasn’t that bloody, thankfully. Even though Arthur had mentioned many times before that he had seen blood almost every day of his life, it wasn’t anything new or gross to him. Still, sometimes you felt a bit embarrassed.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You reminded Arthur as he planted kisses along your neck while his hands squeezed your bare hips.

“Quit that. Lay down and relax, alright?”

You nodded and laid back down flat on your back after you removed your button up shirt. Arthur hadn’t bothered removing any of his clothing since what he planned on doing didn’t involve him at all. Maybe afterward if what he had in mind didn’t hurt, but he couldn’t imagine anything bigger than a finger inside you would do anything other than cause more unnecessary pain.

He started with massaging your clit, working you up enough so you were shaking. Your little whimpers and moans were almost too much for him but he kept himself together and focused on you and you only.

After a while of doing that he lightly trailed his fingers down your folds, teasing your entrance with feather-like touches. He kept his eyes on your face and searched for the slightest sign of discomfort, but he only found pleasure. You had your mouth slightly open, letting out quick puffs of air, and your eyes closed.

“Don’t hesitate to stop me, you hear?” As if. After all the time you’d known Arthur, he still surprised you every day by how sweet he could be. You’d never find another man living as considerate, honest, and utterly selfless as Arthur Morgan.

“M’kay.”

He looked at you for a few more seconds before he was satisfied that you were totally okay with everything. He then pushed one finger inside you, slow and only partial. Almost immediately he looked up to make sure you didn’t look like you were in any pain. You seemed fine, eyes still closed with your bottom lip between your teeth from anticipation.

You wished he would get on with it, you weren’t made of glass. But you knew he was just being careful, and plus, it wasn’t like you didn’t like when he teased you a little. In your experience, an orgasm always felt better after you had to work for it.

When he was finally knuckle deep he tested out a gentle curl, knocking a moan out of you. “You alright girl?” He asked, his voice raw and husky, and stilled his movements.

“Keep going.”

He obliged and continued curling his fingers, making you forget about the pain going on inside you. You’d never actually fingered yourself whilst on your period, it would be too hard to hide the blood on your fingers if anyone walked in on you. You had settled for outside stimulation which usually eased your pain for a while, but this was a whole different feeling. It was as if you weren’t even on your period at all. No cramps, your spine didn’t ache and your legs weren’t sore to the touch. You didn’t even have a headache anymore.

It didn’t take you long to come. The feeling of his long thick fingers inside you coupled with the erotic image of him sitting fully clothes between your spread legs was too much to handle. Even if you wanted to prolong the whole thing you couldn’t, your orgasm came too sudden and fast for you to do anything about it. All you could do was let out a couple of swear words with his name thrown in a few times and came around his fingers.

Arthur was blown away, as he was every time he had the ‘privilege’, as he called it, to watch you come. “Jesus, woman.” Was all he could say.

You sat up with shaky arms, catching your breath as you ran your fingers through your hair. “That almost works better than morphine.” You joked and grabbed your shirt, slipping your arms through the sleeves but not bothering to button it back up.

“Speakin’a morphine, you should have some soon,” Arthur said as he watched you grab a new rag from the bedside table, wiping the cum and blood from your thighs before you handed it to the man beside you. “Unless the maid rode off with my money.”

“Oh, Arthur. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t ‘oh Arthur’ me.” He said as he wiped his fingers off, throwing the rag on the floor with the other one. “It was either that or cocaine, and you don’t need that right now. Last time you had some of that we couldn’t get you to sit down for ten minutes, you remember that?”

Shaking your head you laughed, getting one more rag to put in the pants you’d just slipped back on. “Yeah, I do.” You had chewed on far too many pieces of cocaine gum with the intention to get some work done around camp, but you ended up finishing all the chores within thirty minutes. So for the rest of the day, you were doing tasks that didn’t need to be done, such as over-hunting and fishing. The camp had to cook triple what they normally did every night so the food wouldn’t spoil.

“I will admit, once you’re done with this whole bleeding thing it wouldn’t hurt to have you hunting again. You’re ‘bout the only one in camp besides me who can shoot anything without ruinin’ the meat.”

You smiled at his compliment and laid back down, savoring the time you had left until the pain would kick back in. Hopefully, the morphine would get to you before then. “Thank you, Arthur. I feel much better now. You’re so good at that, I might start paying you to make me feel better instead of these maids.”

Arthur smiled and scooted up so he could lay down beside you. “Yeah, well, seeing you like that is all the payment I could ask for.” He kissed your cheek and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh yeah? Well, I think I’ve got some more to pay you.”

Arthur held up his hand. “Don’t say nothin’ else.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 imagines #red dead redemption imagines #red dead redemption #myfanfic

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soybeantree · 5 years

Text

blossom

pairing: mark x reader genre/warning: singleparent!reader, teacher!mark; some soft shit word count: 7k description: soft mark as your son’s teacher. a/n: buckle in buttercups

“Do you ever feel like your life is spiraling down a black hole headed nowhere?” “No. Is that an adult thing?”

The young boy sitting across the table from you asks, pausing in his breakfast consumption. Sighing, you put down your spoon and shake your head. “No, I think it’s a me thing. Your mom is a mess. Have I apologized to you lately that you ended up with me as a mom?” The young boy chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re a great mom and a beautiful mess.” He says as he stands up and clears his dishes, heading for the sink. “I’m a blessed mess.” You call over your shoulder as you stand up. “It’s the only way I could end up with a kid like you.” You add as you follow your son’s example and place your dishes in the sink. As you start to rinse them off, you catch sight of the clock. “Oh, shhh-It’s time to go!” You save yourself, shooting your son a smile. The kid shakes his head. “Swear jar.” “I didn’t say it.” “Swear jar.” His arms cross his chest, and his feet stand firm. Your cause is lost. “Fine. Go grab your jacket and backpack. And hurry about it!” You call as he disappears into his room. Heading towards the annoyingly large glass jar which sits in the far corner of your living, you dump all of your change into it. The jar is nearly full, and the sight makes you cringe. The past few weeks at work have been stressful, leading to your statement at breakfast and the full jar. While you hope the trend won’t continue, reality leads you to believe otherwise. You do need to find a better outlet for your stress though, or you’re going to end up broke. “Mom!” “Coming.” You rush to the entryway, slipping on shoes before dashing out the door your son is so kindly holding open. His school is close by, the reason you chose the apartment. He insists that being ten he is old enough to walk to school by himself. You insist that being twenty-eight you are not old enough for him to walk to school on his own. You plan on living a long and healthy life, and if something happens to him, you’ll either end up dead from grief or in jail for vengeance. So the two of you walk to school together. These couple minutes are sacred to you. With all the stress and demands of work, time with your son is scarce, so you take advantage of every minute you have. “Alright, what do I need to know about this coming week?” You ask as you head down the street. Your son walks silently beside you, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. “What is it?” You ask at his hesitation. “We are currently in a full honesty, no judgment zone. Didn’t you see the sign we just passed?” You gesture over your shoulder to the non-existent sign behind you. He cracks a smile and shakes his head. “There was no sign mom.” “Okay, but my point still stands.” Taking a deep breath, he starts. “I want to make a deal with you.” His eyes dart to yours, and you nod urging him to continue. “If you say yes, you can take back all the money in the swear jar.” The money in the swear jar is designated for charity. You two had come up with this deal when he was in first grade and was sent to the principle’s office for swearing in class. You had been mortified but were even more mortified when you realized it was your fault. That day you had told him that swearing in school was not okay and promised that you would stop swearing, and that ff he caught you swearing, then you would put all the change in your wallet into the swear jar. Once it was full, you would take all the money and donate it to the charity of his choice. While you hadn’t been able to keep your promise as diligently as you would have liked, you two had donated quite a bit to charities. “Kid, that money-” He holds up his hand though, and you zip your lips. It’s his time to talk. “At the end of the month, we’re going to have a choir concert.” Everything within you plummets as your mind follows the path he’s laying out. “Minnie’s mom was supposed to help with the costumes and the set, but she broke her arm and can’t. Mr. Mark can’t do it all by himself, and he asked if any other parent’s might be able to help. I know you’re busy with work, but no other parent’s can help and if Mr. Mark doesn’t get any help then we can’t do the concert and-and…” His shoulders heave, and his eyes start to glisten, and you stare back at him helpless. Ever since that first day when the doctor placed this tiny bundle in your arms, you’ve been helpless whenever you look in those eyes. “Okay.” “Okay? You’ll do it!” He bounces on his feet, smiling up at you so brightly, and you know if you could you would give this kid the world. “Yes, yes, I’ll do it.” “Mr. Mark will be so happy.” He beams as he starts to skip down the street. “Mhm.” You nod as you follow him at a more moderate pace. Mr. Mark. Mark Tuan was your son’s first grade teacher, the one who had sent him to the office for swearing. He was there when you came to pick him up. Your son had been in tears. He hadn’t realized what he said was a bad word. Mommy said it all the time. He didn’t want to be a bad kid. Mark had sat beside him, telling him that just because he said a bad word didn’t mean that he was a bad kid. People made mistakes. He just needed to learn from his mistake, so that way he didn’t make them again. Standing down the hall watching the interaction, your mind was a war of emotions, the chief being mortification. You were mortified that you were teaching your son to cuss; that because of you, he felt this way about himself; and that Mark witnessed it all. The second emotion was gratitude. You were grateful that Mark was the one who witnessed it, that he would sit with your son and comfort him, and that he had somehow found a way back into your life. Fate is funny, you think as you give your son a kiss and send him off to school. While the goodbye embarrasses him as it would any ten year old boy, he lets you do it every morning. Because, as he has told you so many times, his love for you is greater than any embarrassment. You hope it’s something he learned from you. That cussing isn’t the only thing you’ve taught him. Your love for him is greater than any embarrassment. You wish it was the same for your family. Heading towards the nearby bus stop, your mind wanders through old memories. You were young when you had your son. Fresh out of high school, you found out you were pregnant. You were unwed and unemployed with only your family to lean on, except you couldn’t. They wouldn’t let you. Coming back from another unsuccessful job hunt, you had found a suitcase on your parent’s doorstep with all your clothes in it. Your father wasn’t pleased with what had happened you could tell that by his stony silence and your mother was always looking away when you entered a room, but they were your parents. They should love you more than any embarrassment. You had stood on their doorstep, pounding on the door and screeching until night fell. But the door never opened. They probably weren’t even home. They had kicked you out and fled. You collapsed against the door, staring at the sliver of moon which hung in the sky. That’s when Mark came. You had known Mark your whole life. He lived down the street from you and was by far the coolest kid on the street. All the boys wanted to be his friend and all the girls wanted to be his girl-friend. He was your first crush and your first love. Being two years older than you, he had already gone off to college. So when he came and crouched down in front of you, you were shocked to see him. He had undoubtedly heard you screaming, the whole neighborhood had, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t ask about it or offer any false words of hope. Instead, he held out a hand and asked if you wanted to grab something to eat. As you board the bus, you smile at the memory. His face had shone with kindness, but all you wanted was to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone and stop trying to be nice. With him there, you couldn’t curl up in a little ball and cease existing. But you said none of that. You couldn’t. While the thing inside you was probably no bigger than a grain of rice, it needed you. Without you, it couldn’t survive, and you refused to abandon it. Your love for it would be greater than any embarrassment. So you took Mark’s hand and let him pull you up. He grabbed your suitcase and, with his hand still wrapped around yours, started walking down the street. He did all the talking which was shocking because he never talked. Mark was always the quiet, mysterious type, but tonight he was a fountain of words. He told you about how he was studying to be a teacher and about his roommate Jinyoung who was also pursuing education. The two of you headed to a local restaurant, and over a steaming bowl of soup, he continued to speak. Eventually, you started talking too and joking. He never asked about the pregnancy or made any comments about it. For one night, you were able to just be you. After dinner, he offered you his sister’s room for the night. Being older than him, she had already moved out. Hesitant, you declined, but he assured you his parents wouldn’t mind. Having no other options, you relented and agreed. His parents didn’t mind. They welcomed you in with open arms, showing you the spare room. A towel lay folded neatly on the bed with little bottles of shampoo and soap. After a warm shower, you laid down and fell asleep instantly. The next morning, you woke before any of them. During your shower the night before, you had accepted the truth. The life you had lived before came to an end when the second pink line appeared. Your parents made it very clear you no longer had a place here, and you couldn’t live of the Tuan’s kindness forever. Before they could wake and talk you out of your decision, you left with only a note to thank them for their kindness. Life was hell after that. Working, raising a kid, and putting yourself through college, you wonder how you did it. There were lots of tears and sleepless nights, but you survived. After all your hard work, you were able to land a good job and send your son to a good school. He loved his school, especially his teacher Mr. Mark. It wasn’t until that first parent-teacher conference that you realized Mr. Mark was your Mark. That had been a fun night, followed by more fun nights. Over the school year at different functions, you and Mark had filled each other in on those years since you left. He regaled you with the tales of him and his friends, and you allowed him a glimpse of your hell. Feelings you had thought long dead floated to the surface. They weren’t the same though. The infatuation of a young girl had matured into respect and appreciation and desire. For a time, you entertained your childhood fantasies. Then your son swore. Standing there watching Mark comfort him, you were thrown back to that day on your parents doorstep. After all those years and all that hell, you were still the same girl who needed Mark to step in and help her up. You couldn’t face him after that. The feelings which had surfaced, you forced back down. Your son graduated to second grade and your interactions with Mark dwindled until your son decided to join the school choir. For years, the school choir had been run by a kind old man who had lost his hearing at some point during his tenure. No one had the heart to tell him though. But, before your son’s third grade, the old man announced that that year would be his last. Mark, a music minor, was unanimously elected as his successor, and your son was one of the first kids to sign up the next year. Now, you see Mark on a weekly basis. Thus far you have successfully limited your interactions to polite greetings and small talk. Stepping off the bus, you acknowledge that moving forward this will no longer be the case. The two of you will be working closely until the concert. The feelings you sunk, stir at the prospect, but you force them to still. Mark has always been a pleasant fantasy, but you live in the real world and have dealt with too much shit to indulge in fantasies.

Later that week, you sit hunched over a sewing machine as you curse under your breath. The damn bobbin keeps messing up, and if you have to re-thread the needle one more time, you’re likely to shove the whole thing off the table. Believing the school would have adequate equipment for the task at hand, you left your beautifully functioning sewing machine at home. The mistake would not be repeated again. Next time, you would bring it.

Needle re-threaded, you run the cloth through the machine, only to hear the whir and feel the tell-tale tug. Before the machine can meet the floor, long hands pull it out of your reach. Glancing up, you find Mark standing above you. A smile tugs at his lips, but he forces them to still. He wants to appear serious. “Would you be able to help me with the set pieces? I’ve finished cutting them out. I just need someone a little more artistic to paint them.” Sewing had offered you the opportunity to distance yourself from Mark, but if you spend any more time with that machine, you’ll end up owing the school a new machine. Maybe that’s what you should do with the swear jar money this time around. You muse, chuckling to yourself. “What?” Mark’s eyes catch yours. “Nothing, I was just- it’s nothing. I’ll just get started on those set pieces.” You stand heading over to the cut-outs. The less talking you do the easier all of this will be. You grab a nearby paint brush and bucket and begin outlining the branches. Mark settles next to a fence as an uncomfortable silence falls. “Do you mind if I put on some music?” Mark’s voice breaks the silence. Your brush streaks across the tree leaving an ugly stain. You hadn’t expected him to speak. Determined to escape the awkwardness, you had filled your mind with everything you had to do for work. “No, I don’t mind.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine.” Music starts as you try to fix your mistake. The two of you continue to work, as the music pushes the silence back. However, the awkwardness remains and grows worse as the night drags on. You continually check your phone, hoping hours have ticked by. But only minutes have passed. “Mom!” Your sons voice enters the room, and you glance up from the bush you’re working on. A relieved smiled slips on your face. Today’s torture is coming to an end. “Hey, sweetie. How was studying at Minnie’s?” You ask as you start to gather up the brushes and paint. Not able to physically help with the concert, Minnie’s mom had offered to watch your son while you worked. “I finished all my homework.” He beams. “You did? Good job, kiddo.” “Yes…” A glint appears in his eyes. Pushing off the floor, you cross your arms and nod for him to continue. “Since I finished all my homework, I was wondering if we could go and get some ice cream.” He fixes you with those eyes, and you tell yourself that he earned a treat. You’re not being a pushover. “Okay,” He fist bumps the air before you can finish, “We can get ice cream.” You chuckle as he proceeds to do the dorky victory dance he learned from you. “But first, help me clean up. We don’t want to leave this mess for Mr. Mark.” “Oh, Mr. Mark,” he turns to his teacher, “do you want to get ice cream with us?” The invitation should have been obvious. You should have waited to agree until after you left. Now the invitation hangs in the air, and you can’t face Mark. You can barely face your son for fear he will read too much in your expression. Smoothing your face, you turn to Mark with a simple smile. “You’re more than welcome to come with us.” “Sure, I can always eat ice cream.” He returns the smile. Drawing on a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you manage to keep the smile on your face and nod. With the three of you working together, you finish the clean up in minutes. Down the street from the school is a local ice cream shop which has been run by the same family for generations. Here you three head for the promised treat. Your son is quick to order chocolate fudge, requesting a second scoop when he thinks you’re not paying attention. He receives one scoop with sprinkles. You request the more moderate vanilla. Mark completes the trio with cookies ‘n cream. Outside the shop, benches and tables sit clustered around a little wishing well. Your son plops onto a chair, and you settle on the bench across from him, failing to realize your mistake until Mark exits the shop with his cone in hand. The cluster your son has chosen only has the chair he occupies and the bench under you, leaving the only available seat beside you. Glancing at your son, you find that glint in his eye as he slowly licks away at his ice cream. “Do you mind?” Mark asks gesturing to the accursed spot. You shake your head scooting over until the arm rest bites into your side. Mark lowers himself, careful to keep an arms width of distance between you two. “Mr. Mark?” Your son asks. Mark motions for him to continue. “Did you really know my mom when she was little?” Sputtering turns to coughing as you choke on your ice cream. Mark pats you gently on the back, but you wave him off. “Sorry.” You cough. “Wrong pipe.” “Ummm…” Mark glances at you, but you wave him off again as you regain your breath. “Uh, yes. We grew up in the same neighborhood.” He turns his attention to your son. “What was mom like when she was little?” “We didn’t know-” “She was very independent,” He cuts you off, “like she is now.” “Really? How so?” “There’s one thing I remember from when we were really young. She would wander away from her house all the time, and the whole neighborhood would know when it happened because her mom would rush out of the house screaming. Everyone would start looking for her, and she would be somewhere different every time. When she finally returned home, her mom would rage at her.” “Mom!” Your son accuses. “And you won’t even let me walk to school by myself.” “Do as I say not as I do. Have you ever heard that expression?” You defend your protectiveness. “I was lucky that nothing happened to me.” Mark clears his throat before taking another bite of ice cream. You eye him. “What?” “You weren’t always lucky.” He mumbles, but you still hear him. At your bewildered expression, Mark continues more clearly. “There was one time I saw you wandering, and there was this guy. He made me feel uneasy, so I went and got my dad. And he reported the man to the police.” The knowledge sends a chill racing down your spine, and you stare at him horrified. “After that, I would always keep an eye on your door, and if you ever went wandering I would follow behind.” “You did?” Clearing his throat, he nods, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. “So you were my mom’s guardian angel?” Mark chuckles. “I wouldn’t say that. I was just worried something might happen.” His focus goes to his ice cream as he continues to chip away at it. You stare at him and then a crack in the sidewalk until your ice cream drips onto your hand. Cursing in your head, you lick up the mess and make quick work of the frozen treat and cone. Your son works more slowly, that glint in his eye ever present, so you hurry him along and excuse yourself from the situation. You need to get home before any other secrets come to light.

At work the next week, you sit through yet another meeting. This one thankfully marks the end of the project you’ve been slaving over for the past month. You wish your boss would show his gratitude for your teams hard work, by not having a meeting. Glancing at your co-workers, you can tell they are of the same mind set. Your boss does end the meeting earlier than usual though which everyone applauds.

As you gather your things and prepare to return to your desk, you hear your name called. Your boss stands on the other side of the room a smile on his face. That smile sends your stomach plummeting. It means more work for you. With this project completed, you had hoped you would receive a reprieve from your overloaded schedule, but you seem to be luckless.

“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He chuckles at your bewilderment. “I want you to head our new office.” “If I’m not mistaken, that office is in a different country.” He nods. “Of course the promotion comes with a move, but the company would assist with your relocation, and you would be allotted a housing stipend.” The offer is an honor, recognition for all the work you’ve put in. Everyone knew about the new office opening, and the office gossip had all been supposition about who would helm it. You had never given consideration to the idea that it would be you. While work can be exhausting, you are content where you are, and you believed the company was content to keep you where you are. “This is a big change, sir. Could I have some time to think about it?” “Of course, we don’t have to announce anything for another two weeks. Take your time think it over, but I’m sure you’ll find the benefits outweigh any minor inconveniences you face now.” His smile broadens as you nod. Exiting his office, you find your co-workers packing up and saying their farewells. A glance at the clock confirms that the workday has come to an end. You breath a sigh of relief. After that bombshell, you wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything. Grabbing your own bag, you head out of the building to your bus stop. The bus ride home is spent in silence. You watch the world pass by, but notice nothing as your mind weighs the benefits against the “minor inconveniences”. While your boss saw them as minor, you did not see them the same way. Moving meant leaving the apartment you had worked for years to be able to afford. It meant tearing your son from his school and his friends. It meant uprooting the life you had worked so hard to achieve. Did the benefits really outweigh what you would have to give up? You would have a new apartment, probably better than the one you had now, but it wouldn’t be the apartment that you had walked by every day for three years, promising yourself that one day you would live there. Your son would make new friends. The new city would have a good school, maybe a better one than he went to now, but Mark wouldn’t be there. That last thought stills you, and you almost miss your stop. Hoping off the buss, you start towards the school, but the familiar path is a blur as you try to rid Mark from your mind. He doesn’t fit into any of your plans and isn’t one of the “minor inconveniences”. Your relationship with Mark ends at the school gate. As you approach that gate, you find your son standing there talking with Minnie and a few of his other friends. When he notices you, he says his goodbyes and heads towards you. “How about a hug today, kiddo?” You hold your arms open wide, and after a moments hesitation, he walks into them. Squeezing him tight, you breath deeply. “You know I’m the only kid my age whose mom still hugs him?” He mumbles into your shoulder. “That’s either because they don’t want to be hugged or because their moms don’t love them as much as I love you.” You reply, releasing him. He gives you a look, causing you to chuckle. “I was thinking BBQ for dinner tonight. What do you think?” “Really? Yes! Let’s go!” He starts off down the street before you can change your mind.

Sitting at the table waiting for the waitress to bring your drinks, you prepare yourself for the coming conversation. This move will affect him just as much as it affects you. He has a right to know what’s coming and to add his input.

“Mom, what is it?” His question startles you and draws your attention to him. “What?” “You keep staring at nothing and sighing, and you said we could have BBQ tonight. Something is going on.” Your poker face never was the greatest. Nodding, you begin. “I’ve got some good news, but it could also be bad news.” He nods for you to continue. “My boss called me into his office today to offer me a promotion.” His eyes go wide, and he beams at you. “That’s awesome, mom! You’re the best worker at the company. You deserve a promotion. Why is that bad news?” “The promotion means we have to move.” “Where?” “Another country.” Silence. He stares at you, the joy from moments before washed away by this revelation. “Sweetie-” “Mom, we can’t move to another country. What about my friends and my school and our apartment, and everyone here. We can’t leave all of that.” His voice is a squeak, evidencing the boy he still is. He stares at you with those eyes, and you feel your inside crumble. “I know we would have to give up a lot, and I know that would be hard. But, there are a lot of good things that would come with the new job and the move. We would find you a new school, and you can make new friends. I would be making more money which means that we would be able to do more fun things like go on vacations and adventures.” “Would you be working as much?” You’d be working more. The answer shows on you face. He snorts, crossing his arms. “We won’t be going on any adventures. You’ll be too busy working, and I’ll be home alone with no friends.” “Kiddo, you’ll make-” His glare cuts you off. He’s angry, and he has every right to be. “I think we should both give this some serious thought, and then we can talk about it again.” His response is a huff.

Working with your sewing machine is a relief. If you had to struggle with the demon school machine, you would have gone on a rampage. The promotion has been dominating your thoughts, robbing you of sleep and leaving you peevish. You’ve weighed the pros and cons a thousand times and come to no satisfactory conclusion. Your son is firm in his resolution to stay and refusing to speak to you which irritates your aggravated state. You’re a toe stub away from a full melt down.

A knock, knock on your work table draws your eyes to Mark who is standing above you with a two steaming mugs in his hand. “Tea?” He offers. While you should say “no” and return to your work because being around Mark isn’t helping your situation, you straighten, stretching the muscles in your back, and reach for the mug. The warmth spreads through your aching fingers, and you sigh as you breath in the tea’s earthy smell. The steam caresses your face, relaxing the muscles. “Thank you.” You mumble as you bring the mug to your lips. “You know even Okoye needed the help of the Dora Milaje when she took on Killmonger.” He states as he perches on the edge of the table. You snort, nearly spilling tea down your front. “What?” “Okoye is the greatest warrior Wakanda has, but she was still able to accept the help of her fellow warriors.” He says, taking a sip from his own mug. “I’m sorry. Are you using a Black Panther analogy to tell me that it’s okay to accept help?” You raise an eyebrow at Mark as you lean back in your chair. Mark smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “It got you to smile didn’t it?” The smile, he referenced, thins to a line, but you can’t keep the edges from tugging upward. “So it at least accomplished one of it’s tasks.” “And the other was to get me to accept help?” “To let you know that you can.” His eyes hold yours, and you feel yourself falling back through time to that day on your parent’s doorstep. The last day you had accepted anyone’s help. “Are you offering again?” Your eyes fall from him as you set the mug on the table, your fingers fiddling with it’s handle. “I’ve never stopped.” His voice is light, and you can hear the smile in it. But the words lay heavy on your shoulders. “Mark-” But you don’t know what to say after that. Does he want you to apologize? Do you want to accept his help? You don’t even know what you want? “I hear congratulations are in order.” He says sparing you from your unfinished thought. “What?” “Your son told me that you’ve been offered a promotion.” Mark explains. The action shouldn’t surprise you. Your son has been attached to Mark since his first day of school. He’s the first solid male figure in his life. “What else did he say?” Mark pauses, his eyes drifting to a corner of the room. “You said it was okay to accept your help, Mark.” You don’t look at him as you speak, and the words burn on the way out. But you say them in the hopes of alleviating your ever mounting stress. “He won’t talk to me. I’d like to know how he’s feeling.” “He doesn’t want to move. He’s afraid he’ll be alone because he won’t have any friends and you’ll be too busy to spend time with him.” Your son is shy. A truth which you have buried as you’ve contemplated your decision. His fear is well-founded, and it rips at your chest. “You don’t think I should take it.” The irritation that’s been gnawing at you bleeds into your words, turning them from a question to an accusation. Mark holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and with a simple smile says, “I think you should do what you think is right.” He relaxes his arms, folding his hands on his lap. His smile and demeanor fit his words, supporting them, but his eyes don’t. His smile doesn’t reach them and an emotion resides in them which sets your heart racing. The emotions which you have been suppressing for years burst forth, and you find yourself asking, “How do you feel about this, Mark?” The question encompasses more than this moment and this decision. The question goes back years to when you were kids growing up in the same neighborhood. You ask him how he feels, but really you want to know why he followed you all those days, why he offered you a hand and a place to stay, why he was with your son at the principle’s office, and why he keeps showing up in your life. “I don’t want you to go.” The answer is simple and soft. No loud declaration or demand. “What?” “I’ve never wanted you to go, but I understand that just because I want you to stay doesn’t mean you should.” He smiles, shattering everything inside of you. “Why?” The question is pointless and self-serving, but you have to know, want to hear him say it. “Because I love you. I have since that first day I followed you on your wanderings.” Tears leak from your eyes, evidence of your wreckage within. “I-I...” You stutter as your brain shifts through the rubble for a response. “I have to go.” You stand up, grab your bag, and run like you did back then like you always do.

“It’s time to go.” Your son informs you. They’re the only words he’s spoken to you in the last week.

You catch his eyes in the bathroom mirror and give him a smile as you nod. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” His lips remain a thin line as he turns and heads for the door. A sigh forces the air from your chest and slumps your shoulders. After a final check of your make-up, you head out of the bathroom and towards the front door where your son is waiting. He fixes his eyes on the door as he waits for you to slip on your shoes, and he is out the door the second they are on. He keeps two steps ahead of you the whole way to the school. “How much longer do you plan to keep this up? If we move, are you never going to speak to me again?” “You’re going to take the job.” He whirls around to face you with tears welling in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you respond, “I didn’t say that. I just wanted to know.” “If I say ‘yes’, can we stay here?” Hope has replaced the tears, and you find it wrenches your heart more. “We should hurry. I don’t want you to be late.” You start to walk again, and your son plods along behind you.

The concert is beautiful. The costumes, the set, the singing. Everything turned out perfectly. But you notice none of it. Your attention is split between your son who whispers and giggles with his friends during each song break and Mark who directs the boys with a patient smile.

Since the night he confessed, you have kept your distance from him, not even helping with the final set up for the concert. Mark never texted or called about your absence. He allowed you your space like he always does. Staring at the most important person in your life and the person who has always been beside you, you make your decision. The weight which has rested on your shoulders since your boss offered you the promotion lifts instantly. You exhale all the stress and smile as you sit back and enjoy the rest of the concert. When the last song is sung and the children take their bows, you stand up and applaud with the rest of the parents. Your son finds you in the crowd. His smile pushes his cheeks into his eyes, and he practically glows with pride. But all too soon, memory returns, and he whips his attention from you. You continue to applaud though until the children take their final bow and exit the stage. Leaving your seat, you head back stage to share your decision with your son. Before you can reach him though, you run into Mark. He freezes when he sees you, and you mirror the behavior. Clearing his throat, he nods to you and continues on his way. “Mark.” He stops. “Can I talk to you?” He turns his eyes finding yours. The way he looks at you stills your heart and stops your breath. He’s searching, and you wonder what he sees. Whatever he saw causes him to nod again as he walks towards you. He leads you to a small alcove which allows you both a modicum of privacy. Standing a few feet apart, Mark starts talking, “If this is about what I said the other night, I want to-” You hold up a hand stopping him. “I’m sorry.” You apologize, staring him straight in the eyes though your mind screams in protest. “I’m sorry I ran then and that I ran all those years ago. I tell myself that I’m strong and independent but most of the time I’m just scared. And I act out of fear. Even as I say all of this to you, I’m scared,” you release a shuddering breath but continue, “but I’m tired of letting my fear control me. I love you too, Mark. I’ve loved you since before I can remember.” The truth flies from your lips leaving you with only fear as you study Mark’s face. He smiles, not big and bright but small and sad. Watching him, your heart plummets. “What I said that night is the truth. I love you, but I know that just because I love you doesn’t mean I can stop you from doing what is best for you.” You blink as your mind works to unravel the meaning behind his words. His response was unexpected and unwanted. Searching his eyes, realization strikes. “The job. You’re talking about the job.” You chuckle to yourself which furrows Mark’s brow. “I’m not taking the job, Mark.” “If it’s because of me…” You both know the end of the sentence. You smile up at him, and yours is big and bright. “It’s not because of you. Well, it’s not fully because of you.” Your smile eases as sensibility asserts itself. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t play into my decision. “The truth is it really is an incredible job. It comes with more money and more opportunities. And for those reasons, I’d be a fool not to take it. But it also comes with more hours and more traveling which means less time I get to spend with my son. You pause, your eyes becoming unfocused as your mind travels back to your early years. “When he was little, and I was putting myself through that hell; I told myself it’ll be worth it. If I work hard now and put in the hours, when he’s older I won’t have to. I can have time with my son.” Glancing back up at Mark, you continue, “If I take this job, I’ll have lied to myself all those years. I only have so much time before my son goes off to live his own life. I want to spend all the time I can with him until that day. “After that day,” you shrug your shoulder, “I’ll take a job with money and opportunities and hours and traveling. So I guess, I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now.” “Not now.” Mark nods with a true smile. “Not now.” You repeat returning his smile. “So what happens now then?” “I wouldn’t be opposed to dinner.” You cock a brow. “I also like movies. Video games occasionally. They’re really good stress relievers.” Mark snorts and nods. “I’m free for dinner most nights. And I also like movies and video games.” “Do I get to go to dinner and the movies and play video games too?” Both of your heads turn to face your son who stands in front of the alcove, smiling up at you two with his hands clasped behind his back, a familiar glint in his eye. “How long have you been there?” You ask. “Long enough to know that you two love each other and we’re not moving.” He smiles up at you. You’re caught between wanting to scold him and wanting to laugh. “And you didn’t think you should announce your presence?” “No.” Mark laughs, and you glare at him, but he continues. Shaking your head, you rub your eyes. “I’m hungry. Are you both hungry?” Glancing between the two, you find them both agreeing. “Good. Then let’s go to dinner, and we can talk about all of this there.” Your son smiles wide and heads for the door. As you start to follow him, you feel a hand slip into yours. Mark meets your eyes and offers you a simple smile. You return the smile and fall into step with him as you two head after your son.

#got7 #hmw #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfiction #mark fanfiction #mark tuan drabble #mark drable #mt #teacher!mark #got7 fanfiction #got7 drabble

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rogerina-yee-haw · 5 years

Text

“at least I’m one”

sd!gwilym lee x reader

chapter 5: “- the anticipated sweetness”

[the goodbye] [the sadness & tenderness] [the broken rules and true affection] [the pain and eternal bliss]

summary: you and gwil met ten months ago; and he offered you to be his sugar baby almost immediately. you agreed at that exact moment, not knowing where it would get you.

warnings: smut, FLUFF!!, typos, grammar errors (as usual lmao)

a/n: Alice won’t show up in this chapter, sorry. it was too sweet to ruin it with her presence. next chapter is the last one!!!! sorry if this one is too bad!!!!

September.

“Five hundred pounds?” you sighed as you looked at the price. “Even my life costs less than this!”

This was a chic Versace dress you found at that one posh shop. You didn’t even know how you got there – you were just wandering across the mall; the next thing you knew – you were looking at the pretty but very expensive pieces of fabric.

You could afford this dress only if you worked with no sleep, days off and rest. Shit, you could afford a plain tee-shirt in this shop if you worked yourself to death for six months!

“Guess I’ll die as a poor bitch”, you thought to yourself. You still couldn’t stop looking at this dress; it was everything you ever looked in an evening gown; it was long with a side slit – just to expose your leg a bit; the long sleeves would cover your arms, and the lack of fabric on the back of the dress would give everyone a hell of impression. “It wouldn’t fit me perfectly; must lose weight before even thinking about buying it”.

“I can’t agree with that”.

You flinched at a sudden violation of your thinking process; you already wanted to step away and ignore the man who interrupted your thoughts when you looked at him.

And – oh Lord – he was gorgeous.

Tall, handsome as the Devil himself, in a visibly expensive suit and a smug grin on his face – this man was everything you’ve ever wanted but never had. You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but only gasped – he was too beautiful and rich for you to even try. “Mum was right when she said my shyness will be the death of me”.

“What to be shy about?” he raised his eyebrows; you frowned before you realized.

“Did I just say that out loud?” you quavered; he let out a laugh and looked at you again.

“I’m pretty sure you did; I wouldn’t be speaking to you if I didn’t hear you talking to yourself”.

You covered your face with your hands; you had never felt that ashamed of yourself. You were talking to yourself in a posh shop and this handsome man saw and heard you doing it? “I’m a disaster”, you mumbled. “Sorry you had to witness that”, you said, still covering your face.

“It’s alright. I talk to myself too occasionally”.

You finally were able to raise your head; so you looked at him suspiciously. Really? This fucking Adonis? Talking to himself sometimes? “That is hardly believable”.

“You have quite an opinion of me for the person whom I’ve just met”. Judging by the smile on his face you realized that you – again – expressed your thoughts about him being the Adonis out loud.

You looked down and gripped your hands into you handbag. “I guess being an embarrassment is my life goal”. You couldn’t bear looking at him; finally, you had the chance to hit it off with a handsome dude when you successfully blew it.

Well, you thought you blew it.

“Don’t apologize; it wasn’t embarrassing at all”.

You furrowed your brows and glanced at him. “Really? Not at all?”

He grinned and looked back at you. “Maybe a bit, but it was alright”.

You rolled your eyes at his words; this conversation wasn’t going anywhere further. At least, not with you. That blonde with a short red dress on could certainly get it with this pretty dude. Not you, in your high-waisted jeans and old hoodie with the Avengers logo on it. You didn’t even want to get started on your mum’s sneakers you had been wearing for a couple of years now.

You mum, by the way, always said that your insecurity was keeping you from all the good things in life. And even now, when this mysterious man was certainly interested in you – you didn’t see it. You preferred to drown in your doubt and insecurity. It was easier for you to shield yourself from the world.

“I’m Gwilym, by the way”.

You looked at his hand that he reached out for you; you were attentively examining his palm and fingers. “You know what they say about men with big hands”, Billy’s was echoing in your head, as you subconsciously bit you lip. Gwil suddenly felt really tight in his pants.

“I assume you also have a name”. You were out of your thinking process once again; you looked at him quickly.

“Y/N”, you responded softly as you shook his hand. You felt electricity travelling through your body; your ears were burning suddenly and your palms were sweating. What the fuck was that? “Really nice to meet you”.

He nodded, silently agreeing with you; “You know what they say about men with big hands…”

You rolled your eyes one more time, trying to make this fucker’s voice inside your head shut up. You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice how lustfully Gwilym looked at you. He wanted to pull you to the closest dressing room and fuck the hell out of you. You were so incredibly beautiful and hot – and Gwil really had to restrain himself from taking you right then and there. Right in the middle of that shop, maybe.

“Do you mind going to dinner with me tonight?”

His voice wasn’t asking, it was demanding. You suddenly felt weak in your knees under his gaze; you could have melted as the snow under the sun just 'cause this man was looking at you like that. And that reminded you that you hadn’t been with a guy for a while.

“No, I don’t. I don’t mind at all”.

“Good”. He looked as if that was exactly what he expected to hear. “D’you mind giving me your address?”

Oh, you didn’t mind. You also didn’t mind if he would just fuck you in the nearest restroom.

But you were too shy to suggest such the idea.

“Will eight o’clock be alright?”

“Sure”.

You refused when he suggested driving you home; you lied about having to meet your friend so that you wouldn’t spend some alone time with him. “Gwilym”, you thought while waiting for the bus. “Such a pretty name”.

╰╮✾╭╯✯╰╮✾╭╯

You wake up because you dream is suddenly over – but not like there was anything more of interest during your first date. Just pure primal attraction that ended up with you being fingered by Gwilym in the elevator. It was pretty crazy for you as you have never been a person who would hook up on the first date, but Gwil turned you on so much that you couldn’t handle it. Now you’re happy all of it happened. Now you’re with the man of your dreams.

The sun shines through the curtains of the hotel room window, and you wince because of its brightness. You stretch a bit, trying to wake yourself up, and rub the sleep from your eyes.

“You look like an angel”.

Your gaze falls on Gwil; he leans to the bedroom doorway, a soft smile on his lips. You grin back at him and sit up on the bed, covering your bare chest with the blanket. “You look good too”, you say, observing him. He’s already in a suit, just without a jacket; his hands are in his pockets and he looks so damn hot. “Are you leaving?”

He shakes his head. “Just came back”. Gwil slowly makes his way to the bed and crawls right next to you. “It’s midday already, baby”, he says, reaching to your forehead and kissing it. “We’ve got exactly twenty-four hours before going home”.

“Have you decided what you’re gonna do?” you put your hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch. “That’s a good opportunity, you know”, Gwil chuckles and then sighs deeply.

“A good opportunity but a hard decision to make”, he mutters and kisses you delicately. “I might lose everything if I do it”, his voice is quiet and he looks at you, a glimpse of fear and hopelessness in his eyes. You cup his cheeks and make him look you directly in the eyes.

“Is money worth staying on the job that you hate? Is it worth wasting your time on the place where the boss is a total arsehole to you?” he shakes his head. “Then quit it. Take Ryan and Jack’s offer”.

“I won’t be a vice-president in their company”, he says, “I won’t have this much money if I agree. This is not what you signed-”.

“I don’t care”, you whisper and press your forehead to his. “I’m not with you because you’re rich. Sure, I love expensive gifts”, you both chuckle, “but I can live without them as long as I’m with you. I want you to be happy, Gwil”, you say breathlessly as his hands tighten their grip in your waist, “and I know this new job will make you happy. You won’t hate your boss, at least”, you add and he smiles, leaning closer to you, so that your foreheads are pressed together.

“Bosses, to be correct’, he replies; Gwil leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw. “And I’ve been hating them since we met”, you smile. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to work on my friends who ruined my deal on purpose”.

“Baby, they did it to get you here”, you answer, “to talk to you without your boss interrupting”.

“Yeah, this old bastard left the same day that we arrived on”, he mutters, sucking a hickey into your neck, “doesn’t know shit about his own fucking company”, you let out a gasp, when Gwil’s lips get to that sweet spot, right under your earlobe. You squeeze his shoulders lightly, and the blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts. “Acts like he’s the smartest”, Gwil covers your neck with love bites, “when in reality he’s too stupid to even make himself a cup of tea”.

“I guess talking about your boss turns you on”, you swallow hard and Gwilym pulls off of your neck and looks at you in confusion. “You got quite hard while talking about him”, you raise your eyebrow and palm him through his pants. He moans at the sensation of your touch. “Wish I could turn you on so quickly as old Smithers does…” you sigh dramatically and Gwil rolls his eyes, smiling at you.

“You little minx”, his lips are on yours the second he lays you down, flat on the bed, so he’s hovering over you. His covered bulge rubs your thigh and you moan into the kiss, and it gives Gwilym a sign to move further. His left hand trails down your body, paying special attention to your boobs, while the right one is on your face, cupping your cheek. Finally, his fingers rub your clit slowly and you whimper, when he does that. He kisses you fiercely and you try to unbutton his shirt when he puts one finger inside you.

“No”, you pull away, “don’t want your fingers. Want you”.

“Love, we’ve run out of condoms”, he caresses your face. You don’t give him the verbal answer immediately; instead, you unbutton his shirt and help take it off of him, and pull him into a heated kiss. It’s open-mouthed, with moans spilling from both of you, it’s demanding, as your hands wander across his torso, it’s bruising, ‘cause you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth.

“I want you to fuck me raw”, you whisper looking deeply into his eyes.

His eyes are widened the second these words leave your mouth. “You’re not on the pill”, he states as if you didn’t know this. You swallow and kiss him again, less roughly now.

“Just pull out”, you say, “or is it too hard for you?” your cocky smile makes him go absolutely insane. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite read, something that makes you grow even wetter.

He makes a move closer to your face like he’s going to kiss your lips and when you close your eyes, he suddenly pepper your neck with kisses. He sucks on your collarbone profoundly, leaving marks all over it.

“Mine”, he mumbles, biting on the skin between your breasts softly, “all mine”.

You mewl in response, tugging on his hair and shutting your eyes in anticipation.

As Gwilym kisses all over your boobs, sucking on your nipples and touching just the way you like it, he notices your closed eyes and messy state; he smirks and moves back to your lips; his kiss is tender but searing. “Want you to look at me”, he rubs your clit slowly, almost lazily, making you squirm and whine. “Want to see your pretty eyes as I fuck you”.

You help him unbuckle his pants, and when he’s fully naked, in all his glory in front of you, you almost howl. You can’t quite believe you’re going to spend your life with him – and love, joy, lust, and desire overcome you. You sit down on the bed, so that his cock is right in front of your face, and you pump him slowly, maintaining eye contact with Gwil all this time. His dominating side seems to fade away, when you put your mouth on the tip, passing your tongue over the slit. And when you look at him innocently, a grin appears on your face. He looks so fucking hot like this: lips parted, breath hitched, eyes filled with lust, a hand on your cheek. While keeping the eye contact, as you’re following his demand, you take all of him in your mouth. Gwil gasps and his hand is on your head, tugging on your hair slightly. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good”, he gasps, “but…”, your head starts bobbing up and down his cock, and he almost loses it. “Don’t want your mouth”, he pants, trying to catch his breath, “want you”.

You pull him out of your mouth with a loud pop, and he bends down to you, kissing you lusciously. He lifts you up and turns you over without any effort. “On your hands and knees, baby”, you obey happily and wiggle your bum for him. Gwil chuckles and smacks your ass, making you drop your head in between your arms. He lines himself at your entrance and teases you by sliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “You’re so wet, love”, he mumbles, rubbing your back gently.

“All for you”, you’re heavy breathing – you need more. And he knows it. So he gives it to you.

Gwil slides into you effortlessly and stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust. When you tell him to move, he does it deliberately and leisurely, making the burning ache between your legs even hotter.

“Gwil, baby”, you turn your head just to look into his eyes, “harder, please”.

He stops moving completely. “You sure?” he always asks. Always keeping you comfortable.

“Yeah”, you nod. You want to add, “Just destroy my fucking vagina”, but you decide to keep it to yourself. For now, at least.

He pulls out of you only to slam back with all his length. You scream from pleasure and your legs are already wobbly and you know – a couple of more thrusts like this and you’re a goner. You don’t know where this ability to cum so quickly comes from. Gwil feels you clenching around him, and slows down a bit, silently understanding your desire to last a bit longer.

“So tight, baby”, he whispers, smacking your butt and then giving your ass cheek a squeeze. He touches your shoulder and makes you get up so that your back is leaning against his chest. Huge mirror right in front of you gives the two of you the perfect opportunity to look, to watch each other in the state of pleasure.

“Look how pretty you are”, he wraps his hand around your neck lightly, “look at you being wrecked by my cock. So beautiful, baby”. And you’re wrecked – with sweaty skin, messy hair and broken moans coming out of your mouth.

Gwilym takes his hand off of your neck and puts it on your stomach, helping you move. His other hand massages your boob, making your head fall onto his shoulder. The sounds you’re making are no longer humanlike – but words of love are entangled along with them. You both kept your feelings deep inside for too long for them not to be said to each other almost all the time.

You are the first to come, and Gwil holds you tightly and fucks you through your orgasm. He’s not far behind you and he comes rather fast, biting on your shoulder and grunting your name.

You come back from your high and catch a glimpse of you two in the mirror. Gwil's face is buried in your neck, kissing and sucking on it. You intertwine your fingers with his and kiss his palm softly. The hotel room smells like sex, sweat, and love. And you know you’ll enjoy it for the rest of your life.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles while kissing all over your shoulders. You hum in response; when Gwil pulls out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness. He chuckles and walks to the bathroom - he comes back a couple of minutes later, with a wet towel to clean up the mess he’s made on our ass. You smile, feeling his touch; it never ceases to amaze you how much influence he has upon you.

“There you go”, he taps your butt lightly and then wraps his arms around your waist. You lean to him, pressing your back to his chest, and let your head fall onto his shoulder. You’ve never felt more comfortable and safe in your life, ever. It’s like you’re in your personal heaven, and you don’t want to leave his warm embrace.

“That’s funny”, he mumbles.

“What?”

“You tell me to leave the job that I hate, and I obey immediately”, Gwilym kisses the corner of your mouth, making you giggle. “But when I was telling you to quit that pathetic job of yours, you wouldn’t ever listen to me”.

“Well, I quitted it, eventually”, you raise your head and turn slightly to look him in the eyes. Gwil lets out an airy chuckle, through his nose, and shakes his head.

“And I’m really happy about it”, you smile softly.

“Of course you would be. I did it to come to Dublin with you”.

“Sounds like you’re regretting it now”.

You shrug your shoulders. “I could have been brain-fucked be Damian by now instead of just being with you. Dunno what’s better”, Gwil smiles and kisses you tenderly. Your neck gets numb, and you turn your whole body, your chest pressing to Gwil’s. The kiss is needy and sweet, with hands on cheeks, soft laughs and noses rubbing together. Every moment with Gwil is so intimate and soulful that you keep wondering how you could ever live without him. How did it happen that only ten months ago you met the love of your life?

“How is it possible”, Gwil says breathlessly in between kisses, “that I”, you kiss him heatedly again, “even had a life before you?”

You look into his eyes and smile sheepishly. “You’re cute, Gwilym Lee”, you put your hands around his neck. He raises his brows and grins back at you, his hands finding their way around your waist and they rest just above your ass.

“Oh, really?”

“Really”.

He looks at you for a while before speaking again. “Wanna meet my parents tomorrow?”

You nod eagerly. “Will Heather be there?”

Gwil rolls his eyes. “I won’t let my sister steal you from me”.

“Nothing can take me away from you, baby”, you peck his lips, “trust me”.

“Will you wear that dress?”

The look in his eyes is hopeful, he’s almost begging. You chuckle and press yourself even closer to him. “That dress means a lot to me, y’know. We met through it”.

“I remember something like that”.

You sigh and roll your eyes, being suddenly irritated with his remark. “Hope you don’t ruin it by the end of the night”.

Gwil’s eyes sparkle and he licks his lips. “Can’t promise you this, love”, he whispers before kissing you one more time.

________________________________________________________________

I would really love to see some feedback because I feel like this chapter is stupid and useless pls tell me what you think

“alio” taglist: @majesticdiscodeaky @heartsarecompatible @all-my-friends-are-german @magicwithaknife @longing-hiraeth @thelondondreamer5 @roger-taylors-drumsticks @runningoutofwordstosay @chlobo6 @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @queenficarchive @murydedeus03 @alis-volat-propriiis @deacycomics @hollandspcter @gwils-bitch @crazylittlethingcalleddub-step @painthatiusedto @kaylaylaylayla @rogerinastolemyheart @broken-pieces @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @leah-halliwell92 @brianandthemays @murydedeus03 @rogerfxckingtaylor @zvzxs

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #gwilym lee x oc #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee fic #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee smut #gwilymlee #imagine #fic #my writing #at least I'm one #alio

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borealtwilight · 5 years

Text

broken

summary: Kat’s dead. She’s not coming back.

Her two best friends wish she was.

Warning/s: character death. angst. Word count: 878

That sickening, echoing crack.

That horrid shlink of blamite passing through the air.

And Kat was falling.

Kat was falling.

Before the cryptanalyst could hit the floor, the lone wolf was there, catching her. But it was too late. It was too damn late. There wasn’t a chance that her best friend was still alive. Not with that hole in the faceplate of her helmet.

Artemis thought she was screaming, but no, how could she have been, when all of the air had been stolen from her lungs? Instead, her teeth were bared, mouth open wide, in a rictus of silent agony. Not Kat. Not her dear sister.

It was as though everything was happening in slow motion. She was aware of the Phantom hovering overhead, aware of her own hand reaching for Kat’s Magnum, raising it at the Field Marshal who stood, Needle Rifle in hand, mocking them. She was aware of Jun, Carter, Emile, stepping out of cover, firing their MA37s almost blindly in their rage and their grief. She was aware of the Phantom turning, wheeling away into the night skies. She was aware of it all, and yet it felt to her that she was no longer inside her own body.

A thrill of fear suddenly shot through her; a bolt of electricity down her spine. What had caused that? The Phantom was gone, following the rest of the retreating Covenant. She didn’t know what it was, only that it made her feel.... an empty ache beneath her breastbone.

“Come on! Come on! Get in!”

No.

“Let’s go, come on!”

No no no no no no no no!

Kat was still, so still, and that ache under her breastbone only grew, until it was sharp like a knife, twisting into her with every breath she took. She dragged the Lieutenant Commander into the bunker, door thudding shut, and gently, so gently, laid the Spartan on the floor.

Please... please, not my sister...

Two days. Two days they’d been in this damn bunker. And two days she’d been here, in one corner of the room, sitting or standing near Kat’s broken body, protective, protective.

Thudding footsteps alerted her to the nearby presence of one of her teammates, and without even swinging around to see who it was, she snapped, snarled, on the defensive. “Don’t you touch her.” The wolf, ever the wolf; not vicious, not angry, just hurting, grieving.

“Artemis, take it easy.” Carter. She heard the quaver in his voice, and she looked up to see him staring down at her, his helmet gone, one hand flickering to curl into a fist at his side. “You go get some rest with the others. I’ll... I won’t let anything happen to...her.” His voice caught, briefly, and she heard the whoosh of air that was him taking a steadying breath. “Promise.”

The Lieutenant hesitated, stood, took one look at her sister. So still, so unmoving. Shrugged, stepped aside, and began to walk away. Behind her, there was the shuffle, creak, as the Commander sat down. She hadn’t even crossed to the other side of the bunker when she heard a broken sob. Whirling, she saw him, head bent, and there was that funny sob again. It gave her the feeling of being punched in the gut, hearing that noise coming from him. Always so stoic, always so calm and controlled... The reality of it must have finally sunk in.

Her voice was soft, and so quiet that only he would have heard it.

“...Commander?”

He didn’t respond.

Instinct told Artemis to move closer, and she obeyed. He was in pain, too. She couldn’t ignore it. So she tried again. “Carter?” He raised his head to look at her, and the broken expression which his features held had her pause midstride, eyes widening. He looked so... miserable. That was not like him; not as far as she knew him, at any rate. “Hey, whoa...”

“I’m fine.” Still trying to hold it together. Still trying to be the team’s leader; their steadfast rock, especially now that their glue was gone. She could tell instantly that he was lying.

“Come on. That’s bull.” Artemis couldn’t find it within her to curse properly. She was still reeling, still numb. She shifted, sat beside him, frowned at him. Just let me help.

“She was my sist-....” Another broken, gasping sob. “It hurts.” His words were a whimper, a plaintive plea. Carter crumbled, and she caught him, held him. Their MJOLNIR clacked, creaked, as he fell into her embrace. “It hurts so much.”

He cried against her shoulder, against her armour.

She watched him, walking, picking his way outside, and cradling Kat’s body so gently, so gently.

A trio of Pelicans swooped in, slow, slow, slow. The civilians boarded the first; it wheeled into the skies and drifted away. Emile and Jun disappeared into the belly of the second; it hovered, waiting. A team of ODSTs poured out of the third, took away their broken team member.

Artemis screamed, cried, begged.

Carter held her back, whispered fiercely I’ve got you, pulled her tight against him.

That Pelican soon soared out of sight, and together, together, did they board the dropship that awaited them. Hand in hand. Broken, but not defeated.

#natty writes #halo #LOOK JUST. THIS IS CANON OKAY.#*the lone wolf — artemis b312 #handsome charismatic commander #cool headed sharp tongued cryptanalyst #smooth talking sharpshooter #wise cracking knife boy #natty writes :: drabbles & ficlets #// tw: death

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captaingondor · 5 years

Note

Okay, but if you're still looking for romantic prompts, how about Character A saying I love you to Character B without using the words "I love you." (Through actions, or an "as you wish" situation. That kinda thing.)

Thanks for the prompt!!For this, I wrote about probably my favorite of my OC ships. Tragically I probably won’t be able to show as much of their relationship as I’d like in the work itself, and neither of them is the perspective character. This is fortunate in that I can write whatever I want for self-fanfic without stepping on the main narrative’s toes, and unfortunate as I want to just write their whole relationship basically which made this a little hard to pare down. Hope y’all love them too!If you want some dramatic irony, also read this piece I wrote with Corrianne earlier. And, if you are curious, the correct way to pronounce her name is ‘cor-ee- AHN,’ with a French R sound.

How Empress Corrianne Learned to Speak Her Husband’s Language

When they married, Corrianne could not speak to her new husband.

Like most nobility around the continent, she had never studied Pelasian. Even centuries later, the fears birthed by the Speaker Wars lived on. No mage could twist your mind to his will if you couldn't understand the words he needed to do it. (Of course, now Pelasia had grown to power anyway without the use of mind-altering magic, so maybe it had all been for nothing.) And the Emperor, it seemed, had never bothered to learn any language but his own native tongue.

Corrianne studied and practiced until she was able to carry on something of a conversation with him without going through her ladies-in-waiting or his translator. The Emperor could not even say her name right.

But chipping away at the language barrier was not aiding their communication to the level that she had thought it should. True, she did not mind the extent to which he left her to herself - she had encouraged it. No, the Emperor was simply a hard man to understand. So she told herself, and so she held firmly in believing.

She could not have said when she first started noticing a difference.

***

He knocked at the door between their suites late in the evening, when she had retreated to hers from the court but not yet prepared herself for bed. He always knocked - these rooms remained hers, not his. The first few times he’d done this, she’d sent one of her maids to answer instead and give her regrets. When he proved unfailingly polite to them, and did not push past her excuses, she decided this could be allowed and came to the door herself. He never demanded her presence, or even requested - a request from the Emperor was little less than a demand. He merely gave an offer - he had ended his work for the day and would be in his sitting room, and would welcome her company if she wished to join him.

“I usually take this time for some quiet when I can… read for a bit by the fire, have a glass of wine… but if you would like to talk instead -” His eyes flicked to the maid murmuring all his words in Corrianne’s ear. “Perhaps practice your Pelasian?”

He had not offered to practice his Ruveldin, or even Idan, so that time she had refused. But she didn’t really want to spend the rest of her life married to a man that she would not talk to, so the next time she had accepted.

She’d been worried about his intentions that time, though he’d never touched her without her permission. But he really had just sat by the fire with his book and offered her a glass of wine, and did not press her unduly for conversation when she opened her own book. They made a few simple comments to each other on their day, and what they were reading, and spent the rest of the evening in silence together. She wondered how many times he’d had two glasses brought up, hope. She wondered if he’d left a few dregs in each to keep the servants from talking. She felt a little bad, but only a little.

She’d come over many times since then, and it had almost become a little ritual between them. They did not always spend the time reading silently - she truly did wish to practice her Pelasian, and he proved a patient conversation partner.

This time when he knocked, she answered with a smile and stepped through before he even needed to make his offer. She carried a book with her, but did not open it immediately when she sat down, and so he did not reach to pick up his own. “Thank you for joining me.” Even now that it was a regular occurrence, he thanked her. “I enjoy your company. I have little time to myself, but this has been an improvement on solitude.”

She had not thought the Emperor one to seek out solitude. He demanded the attention of the world. Perhaps she had misunderstood him. She smiled politely and asked him about his day. He was a man of routine; she knew the words he would use to speak about that well enough to follow, better than whatever that declaration had been.

***

They were at dinner, which was rarely a private affair. There were always people at court to entertain. But today was no great feast or party, only a regular meal, and while the Emperor’s attention might as ever be demanded at any time, at present Corriane and her husband were left to converse among themselves as they ate, should they choose to.

They did not always. Corrianne preferred practicing her Pelasian when they were in private, and going through a translator was more clunky than casual dinner conversation with her husband ought to be. And besides, it was dinner, and their main focus was eating.

But today, he chose to strike a conversation up. “Have you heard from your sisters lately?”

She’d received a letter from Everrie just that day. Perhaps he’d had mail come in from Ruveld as well, or seen the messenger bring it in. Or perhaps it was a lucky guess, though that seemed less likely. “I have.”

“And how are they?”

A few times, early on, when the Emperor had asked about her family, she had wondered if he were fishing for information on them, for his schemes or politics. But that had been silly. Surely he had plenty of sources for that without her.

“Both are well. Also my father, and -” She paused. She did not know the proper word for stepmother or half-brother. But he knew that they were her stepmother and half-brother, of course, there was no need to explain it to him. “And his wife, and Alairon.”

“Glad to hear it. Your younger sister’s birthday was coming up, wasn’t it?” He didn’t try to say her name - maybe he’d seen Corrianne wince as he mispronounced hers too many times.

“Yes, they had just celebrated it when Everrie wrote me.”

“She could handle planning for it without you, then?”

Oh. He had remembered, from the last time Everrie wrote. She had told him how Everrie was used to following her lead for social events, how she had been so frantic about taking it on herself, how she had wanted to prove she could step up to the task without leaning too heavily on their stepmother. She hadn’t passed on all of Everrie’s pouring out her heart - she did not think she’d have like the Emperor to hear all of it - but she liked to talk about home, and it was a good subject for her to use in practicing her conversation. And, she realized, her husband had been very attentive in asking her about her sisters. He had been since the first time she brought it up.

“It was as I told her, she -” She hesitated, and finished the sentence in Ruveldin for his interpreter to pass on. “She is more competent than she gives herself credit. She just needed to get her time of worrying out of the way and put her mind to it.”

“Still, they must miss you at home. You light up my court so, I can see it would be hard to lose you.”

She hardly knew how to respond to that, and took a bite so that she would not have to.

***

One of her ladies reported to Corrianne that her husband had had a gift sent to her rooms, so she came to them and found the box set on a table. She opened it to find a delicate golden hair comb, set with many small, deep red gems. Beautiful, and very much to her taste. She wondered if he had picked it out himself.

It was hardly the first gift he had given her. Fine cloth for her dresses, a dark bay riding horse, expensive jewelry, books - ones that he thought she would enjoy, or Pelasian translations of ones she had to help in her study. Some she had written off as no more than what might be expected from the Emperor to his wife. The others had confounded her. What did he mean by them? Was he trying to buy her affections, to keep her and thereby her father’s kingdom sweet? Did he wish to flaunt his wealth and power?

But none of those thoughts came to her now - only a desire to find her husband so she could thank him for it.

She made a few inquiries and was glad to be able to find him alone, going over his correspondence. He looked up, and smiled when he saw her. She’d never noticed before how different that smile looked from the one she saw him wear in public, how his eyes brightened with it. He nodded at the comb she clutched in her hand.

“You like it?”

She nodded. “It is -” It is lovely, she wanted to say, but could not find the right word as she filed through her Pelasian vocabulary. “It is very nice.”

He stood up from his desk and walked over to her. “I thought it would look well with your hair.” His eyes lifted to the honey-gold braids crowning her head as he spoke. He hesitated a moment, and then held out his hand. “May I?”

She passed the comb to him, and he slid it into her hair as though he were one of her maids. Her husband stood back, and looked at her admiringly for the space of several second, before frowning.

“I’m sorry - I don’t have a mirror here for you to look at it -”

She smiled softly. “I am sure you put it in straight. Thank you.”

“I’m happy you like it, Corrianne.” He stumbled over the r, and tried again. “Cor - Corrianne -”

It still was not right, but she smiled anyway. “I understand, Seyetto.” And she set her hands on his shoulders, pushed herself up on her toes, and kissed him.

#my ocs #something i wrote #corrianne #seyetto #throwaninkpot

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avani008 · 5 years

Note

For 5 headcanons, could you please write more about Kanta, Durdhara, or Bala with her husband Kumar Verma?

Kanta (previous here)

1. When Kanta returns from the mountains at last, it is her sister-in-law who she goes to see first. “Tread carefully,” the steward who guides her warns; “the Empress...the Empress-that-was is of course displeased. She’s thrown others from her chambers on the flimsiest pretext.”

Kanta frowns. “She’ll see me,” she says with quiet conviction, and the steward, ashamed, falls silent.

Far from throwing her out, Draupadi throws her arms about Kanta’s neck. “It’s all right,’ Kanta soothes, even though Draupadi does not so much as sniffle into her shoulder. “I’m here.”

2. She visits her brothers next, their faces still so familiar.

“It is good you came now,” Bhima says with terrible sarcasm. “In a day’s time, you might have missed us together; we are to return to the wood at the King’s command.”

Yudhisthira flinches, but Kanta doesn’t comfort him.

“Tell me,” she says, “what must be done next.”

3. Mother Kunti blames herself.

“I promised the Princess of Panchal an empire when she wed my sons,” she mourns, “and look what she has now instead: a throne of twigs!”

“I promised myself to protect her as I would you or my brothers,” Kanta replies quietly. Her face betrays nothing, and yet Kunti’s gaze flickers anxiously in her direction.

“If I had been with her, Dushasana would not live to the results of his actions today,” Kanta whispers, guilt lending venom to her voice, and Kunti strokes her hair gently.

4. “Will you go with them?” Mother--Radha, the first and best mother Kanta has ever known--asks, and Kanta shakes her head.

“I have shared one exile with my brothers,” she replies. “I do not care to share another.”

“Then--” Mother hesitates “--you will wish to reside your royal mother?”

Kanta looks at her to laugh for what seems like the first time in entirely too long. “Dear one,” she says with real affection, “if I must wait fourteen years for the war that will be my revenge, who else might I do so than with you?”

5. Radha’s house does not put her in contact with the princes of Hastinapur very often, but neither does it protect her from them. At last the encounter Kanta has dreaded for decades is here; Prince Duryodhana stands before her.

“Come back,” he begs, in the same tone he once used to beg, Marry me. “Who are they to you, when we have meant so much to each other? Not enough that you didn’t run from them not a month after they wed, and stay away for fifteen years since.”

(He has not married, after all these years. She wishes she was not so aware of this fact, or that that familiar ache start anew in her chest.)

“And how long has it been since I ran from you?” she retorts, because it is always easier to be cruel. They will meet, sooner or later, or enemies on the battlefield; better that Duryodhana accustom himself to it now.

But he offers none of the sharp counters she remembers so well, and his eyes still follow her as she turns away.

Kanta despairs.

Durdhara (previous here)

1. At last, Durdhara decides, Bhima is ready. He might never be the sort to pay polished comments or hold his tongue, but Durdhara calculates he might, after all, pass for a prince if one doesn’t look too carefully.

“Very kind of you,” Bhima drawls when she tells him this, and Durdhara frowns. Sarcasm she hadn’t bothered to instruct him in, but naturally in this he would be a prodigy. With time, she might grow accustomed to it.

2. ...She does not.

But eventually the urge to strangle him for his stupidity ebbs, and Durdhara accepts this as the best she might expect.

3. “I’ve helped you,” she pronounces, “now you must help me.”

Bhima, to give him his due, doesn’t pretend ignorance. But he does look quite alarmed and announce hurriedly: “I won’t kill anyone for you!”

Durdhara huffs with exasperation. “As though I would ask such a thing!”

(And she wouldn’t. Not really.)

Bhima’s face relaxes and brightens with curiosity. “What, then, did you have in mind?”

4. When Bhima sends her brothers tumbling from the trees, Durdhara hoots with laughter.

“Serves them right,” Bhima tells her later, “for being so unkind to you--”

His eyes are dark with indignation; poor Bhima, beloved by his own brothers, has never known the cruelty that being her father’s disregarded daughter brings Durdhara daily.

“So it does,” Durdhara sniffs, and pats his arm in thanks.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replies gruffly. “You’re not alone now. You’ve me and my brothers instead.”

So she does. Durdhara tries--and fails--not to smile.

5. When she is twelve, her Uncle Shakuni comes to visit them.

The rest of her siblings don’t know how happy Mother is to see him, come all the way from Gandhara, but Durdhara does; and while all her brothers and Dushala scatter to follow Yuyutsu on his latest escapade, Durdhara stays behind to sit by Mother’s side and listen to his stories.

She likes Uncle Shakuni, who pays more attention to her than that maid’s son, unlike everyone else. She likes Uncle Shakuni who tells her she is worth a thousand of any other and looks at her with pride glinting in his steely eyes, unlike everyone else.

He is the one who takes her aside and teaches her the foods most conducive to concealing poison: venison, wine, and sweet kheer.

“Do you know how to make kheer, my child?” Uncle Shakuni asks, apropros of nothing. “No finer present you might make your father’s bastard to show him your love--with this spice, too, brought directly from Gandhara.”

Durdhara reaches for the vial, knowing exactly what her uncle intends. But it is true, too, that she wonders suddenly what Bhima might think, and what he would say, and how he would never understand after all.

No harm in only keeping the poison safe for now, she tells herself fiercely; and who knows what tomorrow might bring?

Bala & Kumar Varma (previous here)

1. And then comes the day that the ministers begin to buzz with questions about an heir.

Mother might wax lyrical about the joys of motherhood, the myriad wonders of pregnancy, but Bala takes no more than an instant to consider swollen ankles and an eternally upset stomach before she knows what her answer will be.

“The Prince Consort and I,” she says sweetly, “will choose an heir worthy of the throne ourselves.”

2. “A pity,” the Chief Minister says, shaking his head, “that the Princess Ambika will likely never bear a child. He should, of course, be the obvious first choice to consider.”

An image swims before Bala’s eyes, of a child cursed with Ambika’s unflagging enthusiasm and energy and Devasena’s reckless stupidity.

Her heart stops at the very thought; “Yes,” she murmurs when at last she can speak without shuddering, “a pity indeed.”

3. Every noble family in Mahishmati parades their children before Bala, and none of them meet with her approval.

One is squint-eyed, the other too prone to swoon at the slightest sight of blood, and the last has a sense of fashion that even Ambika would scorn--she can hardly believe where they all come from.

“You must choose eventually,” Mother says, and Bala tries her best not to make a face in her direction.

4. The queue of candidates becomes ever longer, but, sadly no more promising.

Bala decides she’s had enough when she looks up to find: “Sethupathy?”

“I assure you,” he bows low, “that my heart is devoted only to the service of our noble country, and that I should be honored to call you ‘Mother.’” He bows again, and looks up at her with what he must suppose an expression of filial piety.

“Sethupathy,” Bala says, as gently as she can manage, “Sethupathy, you are older than I am.”

“So?”

5. When she comes across her husband in the gardens, Bala’s temper is understandably short. When he begins, “I have been putting great thought towards the problem before us--” her hopes sink.

“Surely, my dear,” she hastens, “there’s no need--”

“No, no, no!” He waves his hands in the air. “I have thought about it all. This is Vaishali,” he indicates the child who toddles in his wake. “She’s the daughter of one of Devasena’s old friends, while she and her husband lived, and has nowhere else to go.”

Bala sniffs. “There is no end of orphanages in the city,” she points out.

Kumar Varma ignores this in his enthusiasm. “But only think! If she is from Kuntala, none of your nobles could object, could they?’

True, Bala thinks, and studies the brat quickly. She’s quiet, which speaks in her favor, and well-dressed, which does just as well, and--

“What,” she asks, very seriously, “are your thoughts about learning to become a warrior worthy of the throne?”

The girl’s face brightens suddenly; she waves her arms about, not unlike Kumar Varma a few moments earlier.

“SMASH!” she says, and Bala’s heart is full.

#mahabharata #karna #duryodhana #kanta #durdhara #baahubali #bala #ambika baahubali #5 au headcanons #avani loves genderswaps

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blankdblank · 5 years

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After This Pt 2

Pt 1

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…

Doriath bustled with confused Elves wondering what could be holding off the ceremony. Sunrise would be coming swiftly as a cry was heard, “Not without her!” For all that should have made that voice come from the merchant’s Son that had so long ago claimed you as his, the voice came from your Father’s Cousin’s only Daughter, Glawar, the young Elleth stealing the object of your affections. In a tear laced voice she repeated to her Father, “I am not marrying him without her blessing!”

Her Father sighed as he replied, “This marriage has been planned for months now, everyone is waiting. Get your circlet on the Lords are getting anxious.”

With a stomp of her foot she relied, “They can be anxious! I told you I would not marry him if she refused!”

After another sigh he replied, “One Princess!” His words echoed after her as she left her tent and started making her way through the curious crowd all looking on as she opened the flap to the tent with the waiting groomsmen and bridesmaids that all smiled at he curiously before her head disappeared again. Your best friend and former Lady in Waiting attending to your every need frantically scanned over the crowds whispering your name with silent pleas you hadn’t done what she imagined you to be planning since the news of her union broke. In the distance she spied her Brother racing up to her with a shake of his head. “No sign of her. All of her belongings, armor and weapons are gone.”

At that her lips parted and tears filled her eyes in her race to the Groom’s tent. Hastily the flap was torn back to find the young Elf standing staring at his formal attire still hanging before him. His lips parted but before he could say anything his worry filled eyes scanned over the pair and Father entering after them as Glawar stated, “Lilo is gone.”

Slowly Thranduil nodded, “I noticed her vanishing at the announcement earlier.”

Glawar weakly squeaked out, “And you said nothing?”

Thranduil wet his lips only to hear his Father state, “We should be preparing for the ceremony. Sunrise is coming.”

A shake of her head later Glawar stated to Thranduil in a broken admission, “I cannot marry you. Not now. Not without her blessing.”

Oropher, “Lady Glawar, I understand your-.”

She cut him off sharply, “You understand nothing! I have tried to explain this and I am tired of arguing with all of you!” Her eyes locked on Thranduil, “Why haven’t you said anything?! Lilo’s belongings are gone without any word of where she has fled to.”

In a frantic inhale Thranduil’s eyes filled with panic as Glawar’s Father stated, “This has gone long enough! I understand she was yours to serve but the arrangement has changed. Tuli will see to her now.”

Turning to face him she stated, “This has nothing to do with my serving her! It has everything to do with her happiness and why I cannot go through with this unless she has given her blessing!” She looked at Thranduil lost in thought again, “Why are you still silent?!”

Glawar’s Brother stated, “The guards have been informed, they will search the grounds, get dressed at least.”

Her head shook again with a huff at her intended, “I will search for her myself!” Before she could turn her Father blocked her path. “Move!”

He placed his hand on her shoulder only to have it brushed away, “Stop being selfish and get dressed!”

His eyes followed her hand that met his shoulder to brush him aside before her Brother gripped her arms holding her there as she shouted back, “I am the only one not being selfish here! You knew! You of all people knew!” She forced him away from her then looked to Thranduil, “Arm yourself we are going to find her!”

Thranduil nodded turning to grab his twin blades sitting aside to be added to his formal clothes marking his place on the guard while Oropher stated, “No one is going anywhere except down that aisle at sunrise!”

Glawar scowled at him, “You better pray I find her unharmed or I will ensure all that was done to her is inflicted on you!”

Behind him Taule, his Wife entered with a pant stating to Glawar in an equally tearful voice, “A guard mentioned he spotted her leaving armed when the dancing began.”

Another grip on her arm came from her Father behind her, “We will search, you get dressed!”

She tore free from his grip again, “Why couldn’t you allow her to be happy!”

With a sigh he stated, “What is this of her happiness? The Princess has all she requires.”

Glawar, “Everything but the Husband you are trying to force into marrying me!”

His brows furrowed, “I will hear nothing of that! You know as well as I King Ingwe-.”

Glawar, “I am going to find her and you best pray I am wrong when I do!” She pulled her arms away again in her step back adding, “Two years they have been wed! I am not marrying him if she is carrying his Child!”

At once the air in the tent changed and Thranduil after a momentary pause and a soft broken whisper of, “What?” met her stride out into the night as their relatives raced to arm themselves and joined in on the hunt that spread through the Kingdom at news of the missing Princess. A search that would soon end as the Elves searching fled from the approaching Feanoreans.

… Back in Erebor Present day ...

In the dimly lit halls of Erebor you knelt, finally upright in your first calming breath your eyes locked with Balin’s who softly told Nori, “Fetch the younglings.”

A shake of your head later you whispered, “No. I am well enough, do not disturb them.”

At your side Thorin’s hand met your shoulder to ask, “What is wrong?”

Wetting your lips your pinking eyes met his to say, “The King, was my Husband. Last I saw him was in Doriath, before it fell.”

Dwalin, “You’re the Prince’s Amad?”

Balin, “We were told of his Wife’s passing centuries ago.”

Your head shook, “His second Wife, my distant Cousin carried Legolas.”

Thorin’s eyes scanned over you asking, “What of your Daughters? What would you wish us to do?”

Your eyes scanned over to the young Princes on their path down the stairs saying, “Something’s happened to Thranduil, he’s collapsed.”

A tear streamed down your cheek and you forced yourself to your feet “I will speak with them. They will want to meet him.”

Ori wet his lips, “I’ll keep an eye on the King. Make sure he stays.”

Balin glanced at him, “I’m certain Laddie, if he’s not met them there’s no chance of him leaving without doing so.” His eyes met yours when he stood as well, “I take it you told him about them? Why he fell?” You nodded and turned to go up to the Royal Wing.

Slowly you walked up to the Royal Wing as the Dwarves stole glances at the kneeling speechless Elf King. The eyes of your Children landed on you as the eager gazes from your Daughters landed on you catching your weakened smile in your walk to the kitchen. Wetting your lips you leaned against the counter beside them as Nin asked, “Ada is here?”

A nod was her answer before Niph asked, “Our Brother too?”

Softly you stated, “Yes.”

Red, “Is the King upset?”

“He is stunned it seems. I am not dead, and he is going to be a Grandfather.”

Rin, “It is quite an amount to learn at once.”

Nin wet her lips and inched closer to you smoothing her hand over your bare lower arm under your rolled up blouse sleeve asking, “Are you in pain?”

You forced another weak smile at them, “It has been ages. Simply a shock to see him again. Even with him being announced.”

In the distance a soft echo of a howl was heard and Red stated, “That would be the Wolves.”

You nodded and eyed their eager glints trapped in their eyes, then said, “Why don’t you finish breakfast, we’ll let the Dwarves and Bilbo eat, I’ll fix up our sitting room for a tea. When the Wolves arrive I’ll invite your Ada inside.” Giddily they prepared the breakfast the curious Dwarves came up to enjoy before their break to split leaving Thorin and Dwalin remained behind so the others could rest in their rooms. Their two toughest remained up to reinforce your place in charge of the meeting they knew to be taking place.

On his knees still the Elf King sat as another howl sounded nearer to them making their eyes turn to the Southern stretch of forest with a growing line of Wolves grew closer to Erebor and the curious group of Elves inching into a wall around their frozen King. Nearer and nearer they came without any sign of shrinking, what they assumed to be normal Wolves grew to three times the size of their distant kin reaching five feet at their backs for the smallest. Dryly the Elves swallowed gripping their bows until they flinched at the sound of the gate opening again to what they hoped would be their saving grace. Eagerly they tried to urge the King up again only to glance at you, the same Elleth that had brought their King to his knees appearing through the opening once again.

Nearing the group Legolas rushed to your side asking, “Would King Thorin allow us shelter?” His eyes scanned over to the approaching Wolves.

“They wont harm you. I give you my word.”

His eyes scanned over you and he asked, “Who are you? Ada wouldn’t say.”

“My name is Lilótëa Ingwëon.”

His gasp halted your words, “Ada’s first Wife?”

Your lips parted and you softly asked, “He told you about me?”

Legolas shook his head, “No. I read your name from the records. Naneth mentioned her Cousin she served a few times, and that you fell when Doriath was attacked. There was no name for my elder Sibling.” He paused for a moment then asked, “You mentioned a Grandchild?”

You nodded feeling the mournful King’s eyes landing on you both as you stated, “You have two elder Sisters.”

A smile lit up his face before it dimmed for a moment and he asked, “Did you know, when you fled about them? Ada never mentioned-. Naneth, no one speaks of you or your Children. How did you know me? And you never came to visit us?”

With a sigh you replied, “Our history is complicated, and my decisions have led to this predicament. Your Ada and I were married for barely two years. It was never public, the match would not have been approved. Your Naneth, before I left it was announced they were betrothed, it was all arranged by our families.”

Softly he asked, “You left?”

Tearily you replied, “Glawar, she loved him, and did not deserve to be humiliated by my announcing the secret union. Your Ada did what he could to honor his agreement to the union, including trying to stop seeing me as his Wife.” Legolas’ lips parted, “For how this sounds, I assure you, your Ada had no choice, My Ada would never allow me to marry the Son of a Merchant, One or not.”

Legolas, “So you left…But your Daughters?”

You released your lip after a quick nip at it through your glance at the tear stained King listening to you both, meeting the Prince’s eyes again, “I never told him. I’m not certain how he found out, I didn’t wish to complicate matters, and by the morning after I left the city was up in flames. I had no idea, until word spread of King Oropher’s passing that any of you were alive.”

His head turned to the wolves now halfway across the plain, in a steady trot, again before he looked back to you, “Where have you been all these years?”

“Fangorn.”

At once it dawned on him, “You’re the Wolf Queen.”

You let out a weak chuckle, “That is what I am called by some. I still prefer Lilo though.”

He nodded then eyed the mountain asking, “My Sisters?”

“They are preparing a meal. You look hungry, would you care to join us?”

He nodded, “Yes I would.”

You turned and crossed to the King whose eyes followed your path with parting lips for words that still ceased to sound as the Elves around him bowed their heads to you greeting you as their Queen much to your irritation from their listening in. Firmly you gripped the chest plate of protective armor before you and helped the unsteady King to his feet before your head tilted slightly before you stated, “You’re taller.”

He nodded, then cleared his throat, “Growth spurt, after.” Another tear rolled down his cheek, weakly he asked, “Daughters?”

“Ninquelótë and Niphredil.” Thranduil nodded and wet his lips uncertain how to ask his next question, “And yes, they married well.” Unable to help it he let out a breath in relief.

Legolas asked, “Two of your guards?”

With a weak chuckle your eyes shifted to Thranduil and you nodded your head to the Mountain, “You’ll see.” Making the Prince’s brow twitch up curiously in his bend to claim his Mother’s jewels you had gifted her for their wedding and joined the others in walking to the open gate after you had turned to lead the wobbly King following you. His aching heart easing slowly at being in your presence again. In the gate you motioned your hand to a nearby bath saying to Thranduil, “You should clean up first.” He nodded his head and joined Legolas in washing up while you eyed the approaching wolves. Within minutes they had reached the gate and eyed Thorin and Dwalin curiously under their heavy armor.

Their leader bent forward allowing a weakened Dwarf off his armored back as he growled out, “We found this one in the abandoned keep.”

Eagerly the Durins embraced and led exhausted Thrain up to the Royal Wing to be bathed and fed while the Wolves entered, following after with their small carts of supplies they had brought for you all. Each peering around pleased at the large keep and eager to wiggle free from their armor to rest from their long trip in the Royal Wing.

With his face freshly washed Thranduil exhaled and joined the whispering group of guards near you with a softening eager expression in his struggle against bursting into tears at the confirmation of Glawar’s assumption he painfully hoped to not have been true. Ages he imagined the family you could have had, his finding you and somehow melding into having Legolas melding happily into the imagined moments. For all he wished to be yours always, for them you had fallen without a trace, time passed and as the first age ended he finally honored his betrothal to Glawar, who had remained with Thranduil in hopes of still somehow finding you some day while easing the painful ache of her unrequited love for the new Prince.

The title only worsening the pain at his finally being of a worthy title for you after having lost you, but over time his friendship with Glawar grew to an affection and his poor mangled heart imagined in some stolen angles from the side she could be mistaken for you. Not unknown to her he settled for his last connection to you, one who shared the pain of your loss and always upheld you union respectfully.

Duties were fulfilled, the union was consummated and washed clean in shared sobs at their joint betrayal before the rest of the night was drowned in wine until the pair were rendered unconscious. Waking only to a throbbing migraine that did nothing to dull the pain in their hearts. Her one sided love and his kindness was enough, one season later the news was spread of an heir, bringing a relaxed unspoken agreement to not break his vows to you again. Fully knowing they could not survive the weight of another heart wrenching night of drowning their regretful act or the hangover the morning after, each time worse than the last but duty barked at them loudly until they had succeeded in their task. A small Prince freed them from the cruelty they imagined to be inflicting on you, and somehow always flinched at the thought you were aware of it.

The sobs from you could be heard with each act completed as if you had caught them, as friends they lived until mistake word of the King’s death had spread. Word that did not reach Glawar in time before she had fled. The guilt was too much, to the Blue Mountains she fled towards the Grey Havens, there she would find you, there she would sail. In Vanyar or down to the depths of Mandos’ Halls she would find you and spill her every betrayal to you, pleading eternally for the forgiveness she deemed herself unable to deserve. Her penitence was clear, the bundled Prince was left in the arms of his Grandmother, Elanor, for all she did she could not take another Child from her greatest love.

Behind you Thranduil widened his step to meet your side to ask, eyeing your pain masked in a stoic expression, “They have known about me?”

You glanced up at him giving him a nod, “Yes. They deserved to know who their Ada was.”

“You told them, everything?”

“They know it was my choice to leave and you did what you deemed best to honor the agreement when I learned you were still alive and wed.”

“I had assumed-.”

“I would rather let the world and my Children imagine me a selfish whore than raise them to hate you.”

His eyes shot to you as did those of the Elves behind you, his hand rested on your shoulder for a moment, “You are nothing of the sort!”

Legolas, “Right, you were wed.”

“You were alive, had remarried, I was no longer considered a widow.”

“Why, did you not send word, sooner? When you knew?”

In another glance up at him you replied, “How do you fit it in a letter? Six thousand years, and then a letter is supposed to mend things?” In a glance at Legolas behind him you asked, “Glawar sailed?”

Thranduil shook his head, “She left when my Father fell, we found her carriage on our return home, it was attacked.” Silently he clenched his jaw at the tears filling your eyes as you looked forward again making him do the same. “Her Brother, however managed to sail safely the year prior.”

You nodded, “Your Naneth, Taule?”

Thranduil drew in a breath, “She is well, rather frightened by news of Smaug awakening.” His eyes scanned over the side of the bridge you led them across to see the dead Dragon’s body below with a familiar style of spear you trained with alongside your kin before he noticed the head lying a good five feet from the start of his neck. “Would you allow me to send for her as well?”

You met his eyes, “I would have to ask Thorin. My pack found Thrain in the Southern Wood. It may be a while, they are cleaning him up.”

Thranduil nodded, “Of course. I will write to her at least.”

You drew in a breath, “You catch up, we can write after.”

Thranduil, “Thorin will allow us to stay for a time?”

On his right Thorin came into view, “You will be welcome as long as Queen Lilo and the Princess’ are comfortable.” Unwilling to refuse lest the Elf King steal away with you and lock you away from the world.

Thranduil nodded, “Of course. I heard of your Father, should you require a healer I will send for mine.”

Thorin nodded then stated, “Your Mother is welcome as well, if you wished I could write to her, I will keep the details brief and leave it to you. Simply state you require supplies and her presence here.”

Thranduil nodded, “Thank you.”

The golden parted doors to the Elven apartment beckoned them through, all eager to see the long lost Princess’. Through the apartment the group walked until they passed through another doorway bringing a set of mirror images of you side by side quietly chatting about how to fold the napkins they had found they both tossed onto the chairs behind them along the wall with smiles flashing on their faces when they noticed the new arrivals. Their hands smoothed over the ends of their blouses under their embroidered vests they were gifted in Rivendell before their hands wove together in front of them in glances between Legolas and Thranduil both staring at them seemingly in awe. At once their eyes shifted to the doorway of the kitchen allowing the twin Princes through with the tea and sides to add to the table.

An audible gasp came from Thranduil who caught their smiles at him and shallow nods of their heads to the familiar face in the group as you moved to the table. The men stood by their Wives as Thranduil softly uttered, “You found the Princes.”

You nodded and stated their names to which they nodded their heads, “Niph and Nin, and their Husbands Red and Rin.”

Legolas glanced between them then stepped closer saying, “I am so elated to know you’re safe. It was recorded you’d fallen with Doriath.” His eyes scanned to their Husbands with a quizzical inspection of their likeness to Elrond.

Elured, “It is an honor to meet you. You obviously know our Nephew, Lord Elrond.”

Legolas’ lips parted slightly as Thranduil moved closer joining his Son’s side taking in each detail of his Daughters before him that he could through their own quiet inspection of him, “It is an honor to see you again Your Majesties. Have you met with your Nephew?”

With a smirk Elurin replied, “Yes. We stopped in Rivendell along the trip, his Children and Father in Law were quite in awe. Requested to visit again soon.”

Thranduil glanced at you then back to the Princes before Elured added, “Besides, no need for titles from you now, not since you outrank us.”

Thranduil’s head turned spying the two largest Wolves pass the open doorway to your room to spread out beside their Brothers around your bed relaxing in the warmth of the roaring fire place then back to you again. “You did not send for your guards?”

Your head shook, “We live alone with our Wolves. Rumor is enough to warn off a great deal of intruders on its own.”

Thranduil repeated, “You live alone? How many have left your lands? Thousands are thought to live in Fangorn under your rule.” His brows tightened in confusion.

“Just us since the First Age.”

His eyes wandered to the girls, “Then who-.”

“Prince Amroth and a group were passing through to Lorien when I went into labor. He had two healers with him. Led us to our cave and remained until the morning after ensuring we were healthy, left with his word that we would be welcome in Lorien, should we have wished to move.”

Elured, “After Doriath we enjoyed the silence and protection of our solitude. Besides, word of Feanoreans dwelling in Lorien kept us away.”

Thranduil softly muttered to himself, “Galadriel.” To which the boys nodded before you eased your chair back and moved to pour the tea while Thranduil sat beside you with Legolas on his right with the twins.

With a smile Nin asked, “Naneth mentioned you’re staying for a visit?”

Thranduil and Legolas nodded, with the King saying, “Yes.”

Legolas, “King Thorin is writing to Gran as well, she should be along shortly once our things are packed.” His smile inched wider, “I know she’ll be thrilled to know she has Granddaughters. Grandsons are wished for by many, but Granddaughters are prized.” He paused for a moment, “Plus, congratulations, are both of you expecting?”

Niph nodded with a growing smile peering across at Thranduil as you poured the final cup of tea then took your seat and the Elven guards sat in the chairs along the wall as she said, “Yes, both of us.”

Legolas chuckled softly, “Gran will certainly be pleased. I wonder if you’ll have twins as well.” Making you giggle softly drawing the King’s eye with a pained glance at having not seen your smile in so long or heard the laugh going along with it.

Nin looked at Legolas, “Do you like it in Greenwood? Elrond stated it isn’t like Rivendell.”

Legolas smiled and nodded, “It is different. Though lately we’ve had a Spider problem, but overnight it seems they’ve vanished a couple weeks back so it should be plenty safe should you wish to stay with us. I could show you all the best hidden spots.” He wet his lips, “We do have the annual Feast of Starlight in a couple weeks. Celebrate properly.” A hopeful smile grew on his face mirroring theirs while Thranduil eyed your saddened glance at your raised cup of tea for a sip guessing this feast was purposely used to mark your birthday he had managed to set up moonlit dinners for you both to celebrate off on your own back in Doriath. Through your sip he watched you then glanced at his Daughters at their soft giggle matching yours as they asked, “It wouldn’t happen to be around the 14th, would it?”

Legolas chuckled weakly replying, “14th exactly. How did you guess it?”

They chuckled again, “It’s Naneth’s birthday as well as ours.” At once Legolas’ smile froze for a moment then it grew, realizing his Father’s silent marker for you in their lives.

Legolas chuckled again, “All the more reason to celebrate it with us this year.” Making their smiles grow as Thranduil nodded after another glance at you while his hand struggled not to drop and cover your left as it rested on your lap through your nail smoothing along the seam on your pant leg.

#Thranduil x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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