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#ill try to post what i can tonight and the rest tomorrow
littlejuicebox · 2 months
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Labor and joy.
The moment all (some) of you have been waiting for. Welcome to the fanfic, baby Gale.
I'm tired so I'll do my usual header tomorrow when I have time to reformat everything. This will also be lightly edited. Ya'll got a double-feature tonight to make up for my lack of posting during my recovering from illness process.
Warnings: birth, labor, babies, light angst, light gore kinda
Disclaimer: I’ve never had a baby and I am not pregnant nor have I ever been so all this is based off friends, family, and research.
This was never ending. You had been in labor for half the day prior, and now it was well past midnight, but you still were not ready to push. Shadowheart had stepped away a few hours ago for rest. Halsin had since stepped in to take her place and did his best to stay unintrusive in the corner of your bedchambers; it was no easy task with his large frame.
Astarion had been forced to watch you for hours as your face contorted in pain. Contraction after contraction ripped through your frame, and every utterance of discomfort from you was met with soothing ministrations from your husband. He spent hours alternating between sitting beside you and behind you, offering support to the best of his ability as you endured the miserable labor pains.
No amount of screaming, crying, or massaging seemed to help. You were so exhausted, at this point you were barely making any noise as another contraction coursed through you. Sleep was not an option in this state, no matter how much you desired it. 
Astarion sat propped behind you in bed, utterly exhausted himself, and rubbing soothing circles in your back as you did what you could to focus on your breathing. He noted your nightgown was drenched in sticky pools of sweat as you rocked back and forth through sharp breaths, searching for an ounce of relief in the repetitive movement.
“My love, tell me what I can do to help.” He whispers, voice trembling with worry as he presses his long fingers firmly into your lower back, hoping to ease the tension, “I will do anything you ask of me.” 
You don’t respond. You can’t. You can barely breathe through the pain. And truthfully, you don’t know what will help. Nothing seems to at this point. Gods, you are so tired.
“Perhaps we should try a walk, Tav.” Halsin suggests, standing from his corner in the room to join you both by the side of the bed, “Let us head to the kitchen. Walking should ease the pain, and I will make you tea that can help with the contractions.” 
“You can’t be serious, druid!” Astarion snaps, unable to contain his mounting concern for his little love, “Just look at her! I don’t think Tav is in any position to–” 
You haphazardly place a flimsy, trembling warning hand on Astarion’s face and the rest of your husband’s admonishment dies on his lips. You simply nod at Halsin, and gesture for the other elf to help you out of the bed. Two large arms pull you up with relative ease, and you sigh with some relief as the sudden change to standing removes some pain from your lower back.
Astarion moves to follow you, and you wordlessly shake your head as you lean further into the druid. His brows crinkle in a silent question as he watches you; he thinks he’s done something wrong.
Your eyes soften for a moment, and you offer the slightest smile you can muster through your unbelievable discomfort. Your voice is a hoarse whisper when you say, “Stay here, my love. You need a short break. I will be back in mere moments; Halsin can watch over me until then.”
“Tav, it is my job to–” Astarion starts, about to argue the point with you, but Halsin is quick to cut in.
“It is your job to support Tav how she asks you to throughout this process and listen to her desires and needs.” The druid responds, kindly but firmly, offering an encouraging nod to your husband, “We will be but rooms away.” 
The silver-haired elf takes in a sharp breath as he watches your face nervously, mustering all of his patience to acquiesce. The druid is right. Astarion knows it. Your husband nods slowly and sighs while using every ounce of self control within his body to lean back and settle into the bed once again, “If you are certain, my love, then very well. Call for me with the bell, should you two need anything.” 
Halsin grabs the bell from the side table and nods with a final reassuring look at Astarion. And then the two of you begin the slow journey to the kitchen, the druid’s large frame easily bearing the majority of your weight. Your limbs feel like lead beneath you, but the pain is significantly lessened as you pace down the hallway.
Thank the gods for small miracles.
Before long, you are sipping tea in the kitchen as Halsin works to distract you from another vicious contraction with a story about Arabella and Mol. Your head tilts back as you chuckle– the first laugh you’ve had all night. Suddenly, you feel copious amounts of warm, thick fluid dripping down your legs.
“H-halsin, I think it’s time to push.” You gasp, staring down incredulously at the puddle now pooling around your feet. 
“Are you certain, Tav? Shall I check?” Halsin offers, quickly coming to your side, and you shake your head vehemently, far too embarrassed to let the druid perform such an exam, no matter his level of professionalism.
“No— just ring the bell, it will bring Shadowheart and Astarion.” You hiss as another powerful contraction assaults your body, paired with the overwhelming sensation of intense pressure in your pelvis. You are clutching the swell of your abdomen and leaning over the counter as you breathe through the feeling. You don’t know how you know it’s time, but you’re quite certain.
Halsin obliges, and moments later both Shadowheart and Astarion are bursting through the kitchen doors. Shadowheart is in her nightclothes, and her white hair is flying around her shoulders as she makes her way to you. Astarion is wide-eyed in panic on the heels of the cleric, his curls just as disheveled and pajamas crinkled from the stress of the night.
“I think– I think it’s time to push.” You grimace, and Shadowheart quickly performs an exam to confirm your suspicions.
Astarion’s face is creased with some mixture of relief and apprehension as he rubs your back and murmurs, “Come, darling, let’s get you back to the bedroom and–”
But he startles because you’re screaming as another contraction rips through you, practically compelling you to push. And you’re certain there’s no time to move. You’re adamant that you have to push right now, that you want to deliver right here in the middle of the kitchen. You aren’t moving. You can’t move. You need to push. Now.
Now. Now. Now. Now. 
Halsin is quickly behind you as you instantly move to a half squat. His arms thread underneath your armpits, supporting you as you bear down. Shadowheart is hastily searching through drawers, looking for linens and other materials to spread beneath you in an attempt to contain the growing mess of liquid as you wail and continue to push as if life depends on it. 
In some ways, it does.
Nothing has ever prepared you for this feeling. No book, not even the several you read on the subject, could ever adequately describe it. 
“I don’t— what do I do?! What should I do?!” Astarion is barely containing his own panic, frozen in place and flitting his gaze between Halsin and Shadowheart as the two work around you with the easy expertise of two healers that have performed this task more than once.
“Get ready to catch the baby, you git!” Shadowheart hisses as she shoves Astarion down into the nest of linens she’s spread around the floor.
“Catch the– WHAT–” Astarion shouts, but then the cleric is grabbing his head, forcing him to look upwards, and he’s peering under your nightdress with wild eyes. The baby is crowning. All Astarion sees is a shock of silvery-white curls.
“Oh! Oh gods! Tav, I see Gale’s head!” He exclaims, somehow both panicked and excited as he awkwardly positions his shaking arms in the way Shadowheart directs.
The cleric has dropped down to her knees beside your husband, and the two of them are watching as you continue to push with renewed vigor, encouraged by your husband’s exclamations. 
There is a long moment where you feel sure you’re ripping in two, and you almost give up, but then a sudden feeling of relief washes over your body. The kitchen is filled with the wails of a new infant.
When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Astarion, his curls wild, his face wide eyed and shocked, and his arms covered in various fluids and vernix. And then you see your little wriggling baby, covered in that same fluid, wailing at the top of their lungs. Their little shrieks sound like music to your ears.
Halsin is gently lowering you to the ground and into the nest of linens as you slowly come out of the fog of pain and overwhelm. Astarion is both crying and beaming as he places the infant in your arms before pressing a loving kiss to your temple. He’s trembling with the inexplicable wave of emotions flowing through his system as he whispers to you, “My love, look, just look at our beautiful baby boy. You did so well, darling.”
You are crying and speechless as you stare down at your newborn. You didn’t think you could love anything in the world more than you loved your husband. But now you know you were wrong.
Later, after all three of you have been cleaned up and relocated to your bedchambers, you feel Astarion’s body shaking from where he sits behind you as Gale attempts his first feed. You are sitting between your husband's legs, your back leaning against his chest. A sideways glance reveals he is laughing.
“What is so funny, Astarion?” You ask quietly, still aglow and in a haze from the hormones pumping their way through your system.
“It’s just… our child, named after Gale, the man that was once our camp cook and would never shut up about food, would decide it best to be born in the kitchen.” Astarion responds with another chuckle as he brings his hand to stroke the cheek of the little baby in your arms.
Astarion studies the newborn’s two pointed ears, ten fingers, ten toes, and the little curls on the baby’s head as he speaks, “And our Gale absolutely drenched me in blood and guts in our kitchen – something I’d never been willing to do in the camp kitchen for his namesake.”
You chuckle softly as your little one utters a soft coo of assent in your arms, slowly drifting to sleep as he suckles. 
“I’m sure that will be one of many firsts, my love.” You say through a yawn, caught between the warmth of your newborn and your husband. The comforting sensation is lulling you to sleep; it is truly a wonder you’ve managed to stay awake this long. Gale is still nursing intently in his slumber, searching for the nutrients only you can provide.
The silver-haired elf emits a happy hum as he wraps his arms underneath yours, content to hold his two little loves and watch over them as they both rest. He will sleep later, he thinks. But for now, reality is better than any dream his mind can conjure.
As the first rays of morning light peek through the bedroom window, Astarion realizes his newborn son’s name is more than fitting, because it perfectly describes his feelings in this moment.
Joy. Absolute joy.
279 notes · View notes
uwingdispatch · 6 months
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Wayward Evenings
Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader
CW: alcohol consumption, the aftermath of alcohol consumption, implied sexual intimacy
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★★★★★★★★
You hadn’t expected to spend your evening holding your husband’s hair back in the refresher. In fact, you’d had other plans. But when Hondo was in town…you’d learned to expect this kind of thing. Perhaps it was your mistake to try and do tonight any other way, but you’re still annoyed that Ezra is just so…Ezra when it comes to the former pirate. 
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you tell him. Ezra is leaning against a cabinet on the floor doing his best to stay upright. Despite your irritation, you’re right there with him, smoothing his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. “Every time,” you say. “It’s like you’re incapable of making good decisions around that man.”
“I think you’re onto something there, sunshine,” he says. “But can we talk about it tomorrow? I feel like I’m going to die right now.”
You let out a deep sigh. “Sure,” you say. “If you promise to never drink pirate moonshine again.”
“It was made on Batuu, so technically it’s moons-shine.”
“You know what? I’m just going to leave.”  You have no intention of leaving.
“I’ll never touch that shit again,” he says. “For you, of course.” And then wretches again. 
An hour ago someone at the cantina had called you to come get your idiot husband. They normally would have called Sabine—she was more physically capable of dragging Ezra out of a bar and throwing him into a speeder—but she’s been off planet for the past few weeks and that left you and your droid to come coax Ezra out of the building and get him home. 
“I know you had plans,” he says. “I’m so sorry,”
“Too drunk to stand up,” you say, “before the sun’s even fully set!”
“I guess I was just feeling ambitious.”
“When they called me to come get you they were worried you were going to try and fight a Dowutin. Over an insult to Hondo’s ‘honor.’”
“I would never actually—” 
“If you weren’t who you are you might have gotten arrested.”
“I know.” 
“Ezra, I love you, but I really don’t love this.” 
Even still, you’re rubbing his back, holding him steady. There are people you meet at a certain age and somehow, whenever they’re around, you become that age again. You understand this. It just doesn’t make your current predicament any less frustrating..
C2-B35 rolls in grumbling and hands you fresh towels, which you pass off to Ezra, who seems to be regaining his balance as he stands, the nausea abating.
“I think the worst is over, Cee,” Ezra says.
Ceetoo, being a therapy droid ultimately concerned with your wellbeing, chirps and whirrs—a curse-ridden message for Ezra that you don’t bother acknowledging. Because despite her vitriol, the little astromech has been monitoring his vitals since the two of you picked him up earlier. 
“Get cleaned up,” you say. “Is there anything you need?”
“You’re too good to me,” he says. “But all I need is you.”
In the kitchen, inhaling a bowl of leftover pasta, you remind yourself that this is not a regular occurrence. You hear the shower running and feel a bit of relief knowing you’ve moved on to the part of the evening where Ezra can take care of himself. Which means the vomiting is over. And given how much of that had gone on earlier, you’re pretty sure he meant it when he said he’d swear off Hondo’s moonshine.
When he emerges he’s wearing just a pair of gray lounge pants and a soft red robe—yours—left open. 
Ceetoo is nearby watering her plants and in a series of beeps and whistles she asks if she needs to still be monitoring Ezra. 
“I’m good, Cee,” he says. “I just need to rest. And make up for…all of this.”
He slips his arms around your waist and nuzzles your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 
“Feeling better?” you ask.
“Eh…mostly.”
“Still a little drunk?”
“A little.”
You take his face in your hand, brushing your thumb over his cheek before tucking a few wayward curls, still wet from the shower, behind his ear. He leans in as if to kiss you and you stop him. “Not before you drink that water,” you say, pointing to a large glass on the kitchen counter. “All of it.”
“And then?”
You shrug.
“You know I’d do anything for you, sunshine,” he says, his voice low, his lips almost touching your ear.
You reply: “I know.”  
***
You’d been dating Ezra for six months when you first met Hondo. Ezra had described the old Weequay as “kind of like an uncle, but not the kind of uncle you call in an emergency…unless it’s like a real emergency, he’ll show up for that.”
And after a night out with Ezra’s “uncle” you wondered if you really knew who you were dating. It wasn’t that the liquor had changed his personality, or even that Hondo had. You just hadn’t seen this side of him before.
“I think I overdid it,” he said.
“You did.”
“I should have warned you.”
“Ezra,” you said. “I don’t know if there’s any way to warn someone that one of your dearest friends is the kind of person who thinks axe-throwing while drunk is a good idea.” 
You were walking a rather tipsy Ezra home after what you had thought would be a casual dinner with a quirky family friend. But that was not how time with Hondo would ever go. You’d threatened to leave over the whole axe-throwing throwing thing, but stayed a while when Ezra reluctantly backed down from the challenge.
“I forget that Ezra Bridger cannot hold his liquor,” Hondo had said. “I would do anything for this boy, but he would have made a terrible pirate.” 
Ezra looped his arm around your waist and sighed. “With Hondo,” Ezra said, “sometimes it feels like I can go back in time. Like…”
“Like all the time you lost while you were away didn’t happen?”
“You get it,” he said. “Of course you get it.”
“I don’t know if I get it, but I think I know what you’re saying.”
Ezra never got to go through a wild phase—not the way most people did as young adults. Hondo, however, seemed to make space for the chaotic teenager in anyone. Which maybe under other circumstances might have been fine, but Ezra’s limit was usually a pint or two of ale. Tonight there had been Correllian wine. And then shots of something that smelled like explosives.
Just outside of his house now, Ezra mumbled, “I would have been a great pirate.” 
You swiped his key card to open the front door and, as soon as he could get to it, he flopped into his bed. 
You sighed, watching Ezra struggle to take off his socks. “I’m sure you would have been legendary.”
“Legendary!” he repeated.
You got ready for bed, using the items of yours that had started to collect in the refresher. Some you’d left at Ezra’s place over the last few months. Others Ezra had bought for you, wanting you to feel welcome and at home with him. He called your name, and you went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, knowing he’d be feeling this in the morning if he didn’t at least try to hydrate.
“Come here,” he said. “Let me hold you.”
When you joined him in bed, he pulled you toward him, undressed now, his skin warm against yours. “I don’t usually drink like this,” he said.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you this intoxicated before.”
“That’s on purpose,” he said. “I can’t believe I let myself…you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Drink the water,” you told him.
“I will,” he said. “Hey. Hey…can you look at me?”
You tuck his hair behind his ear, let your fingers trail down his neck and along his jawline. “I’ve been looking at you this whole time.”
“I’m just so glad you came out with me tonight. I know Hondo is a lot, but he’s family.”
“He’s probably not too fond of me.”
“Are you kidding? He loved you.”
“Really?”
“How could he not, sunshine?” he said. And after a pause, “Do you know how important you are to me? How much I love you?”
It was the first time either of you had said these words to the other. And you hadn’t expected to hear them as a drunken confession. “Ezra, I—”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“It’s okay. Just…tell me again when you’re sober.”
“I will.”
He pulled you close and you rested your head on his chest, breathing deeply. He smelled of sweat and alcohol, of course. But also of him. Of a man you’d very much fallen in love with. Sometimes you thought you’d fallen in love with him the day you’d met. But you’d held those words back, wondering sometimes whether Ezra Bridger was the type to settle down. 
But now, there was something about the way he stroked your hair as he started to doze off. And when he said “I’ll tell you I love you every day for as long as you’ll have me,” tipsy or not, you believed him.
***
You’re in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of caf when you hear Ezra stumbling down the hallway, followed by the loth-cats that had been sleeping at his feet.
“You’re never up this early,” he says.
His hair is wild, and he’s wearing a robe—his this time—and not much else. You don’t need to tell him he’s a mess. He knows. And he knows how he got here.
“There’s no Jedi trick for hangovers,” you say. “Or at least that’s what you’ve lead me to believe.”
You put a plate of eggs and two headache tablets on the table and he sits, a look of defeat in his big blue eyes.
“I’d been hoping to make you breakfast today,” he says. “I really kriffed things up last night.”
Ceetoo comes in the front door carrying a shopping bag, looks straight at Ezra and starts grumbling in binary.  
“I know,” he says. “I’m profoundly aware of this. Can you please lower your volume?”
You bring two cups of caf to the table and sit beside Ezra. A man who’s stayed up with you through countless nights when your chronic pain was at its worst. Who makes a point of bringing you your favorite tea anytime you have a particularly bad migraine. A man who, when you’d first met, lived on the opposite side of town—but when he found out how difficult your anxiety could get, he started making that long drive to you any time you were struggling and he thought he could help.
He did kriff up last night. But you can’t find it in yourself to hold it against him. “It was a rough night,” you say. “But it’s behind us.” 
Sipping his caf he says, “Thank you, love.” 
“You would do the same for me.”
“I don’t mean the breakfast. I mean, I do. But you deserve better than a grown man who can’t get his shit together for one night so you can go out with your friends.”
There’s something sheepish about him as he takes your hand, and you see the “boy” Hondo always refers to when he talks about Ezra, despite his being in his forties. 
“You have your shit remarkably together ninety-nine percent of the time, Ezra,” you say. “I can make new plans. And you were sick enough yesterday that I think that might be punishment enough.”
Ceetoo grumbles as she brings you a plate of sliced fruit. She’d happily gone to the store for you but had been less than enthusiastic about it when you told her the fruit was for Ezra—she could hold a grudge as well as any organic. But you reminded her of how many times he’d been there for the two of you, and that if you could forgive him for one ruined night, she could, too. 
As she’s leaving the kitchen she beeps and whistles: try not to barf.
Ezra laughs. “I’m so glad she doesn’t actually hate me,” he says. “Though sometimes I wonder.”
You sit in silence for a while, listening to the wind blowing a tree branch into the window outside, the birds singing in the garden. And you remember planting that garden with Ezra when you first moved into this house, how you reminded him again that you probably wouldn’t be able to help much with maintaining the garden because of your chronic pain. And he’d taken your hands and told you that he didn’t expect anything of you other than that you being in his life. That just you being here, making a home together—that was enough. He’d wiped the tears from your cheeks when you began to cry, your heart so full it was spilling over.
“How are you feeling?” you ask.
“Better now that I’ve eaten, actually.”  
He gives your hand a squeeze before you get up to feed the two tooka cats who have gathered under the table, nipping at your feet. One you’d had when you met Ezra—the other was a three-legged stray Ezra had found living in an alley behind his work, far too friendly to be a street cat. You nearly trip over the little guy as you turn to put the kibble away, only to be steadied by Ezra—you hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up from the table.
“Hey,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
“I was fine,” you insist.
He smiles. “Sure.”
His grin is infectious, and soon you have your arms around his neck, unable to stifle the smile on your own face. He ghosts his fingers along your cheek, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, slow and lingering.
“You can make me dinner tonight,” you tell him. 
“And in the meantime?”
You can’t imagine he’s recovered that quickly. But Ezra is always full of surprises. So when he leads you back to the bedroom you follow. He discards your clothing in the hall, piece by piece as you stumble over each other, a feeling of lightness filling you as he kisses your forehead, your nose, your neck before you tumble into bed. And when you find yourself beneath the sheets with Ezra, you’re thinking about how seamlessly he fit into your life, from the very beginning. And now, how perfectly your bodies fit together, his deft hands finding exactly where and how you love to be touched. 
He whispers in your ear: “Let me make this up to you.”  
And you melt into him, your fingers lacing into his hair as he kisses you deeper, a spark of electricity running through you as if it were the first time he’d ever kissed you. 
“You still owe me dinner,” you tell him.
“I’ll give you anything,” he says, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “Anything you want,” he says, “it’s yours.”
And, if only because he’d never once given you a reason not to, you believe him. 
★★★★★★★★
Thank you so much for reading! Once again I am here to be a gremlin about Ezra Bridger somehow growing up to be Blorbo. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.
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101 notes · View notes
whumpflash · 9 months
Text
Penumbra: Undeterred
cw: illness, nonsexual nudity, whipping references
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The fever tea was nearly cold by the time Tansy was satisfied with the color of the water, and they coaxed it into Cerus sip by sip. True to his word, Uncle Aldon brought bread and fish once darkness fell. They tried to give some of that to Cerus, but he didn't take more than a mouthful.
With night came a deeper chill, and even in their cloak, Tansy shivered. Still, with the promise of tomorrow's punishment, they knew they needed to get what sleep they were able. They gently pushed Cerus aside so they could remove their chest bindings, thinking the injured man had slipped back into unconsciousness.
When he spoke, they nearly jumped.
"Th-they'll hurt you for helping me."
It was the first thing he'd said in hours. Quiet. Certain. There was nothing regretful in his tone, but it was tinged with something that might've been sorrow.
Tansy swallowed. "They're afraid. I… I can understand it." If they'd never found him in the frozen rain, they might be of the same mindset. Only hearing rumors of the former tyrant's disappearance, never seeing his true state… they understood, but that didn't mean the people were right.
"It's not—" Cerus's body shook with a rasping cough. "Not something you deserve."
They closed their eyes, angling their head back to rest on the faded wooden planks that made up the shed. "You said so yourself. No one can truly say what is and isn't deserved. It will be, and I can do nothing to stop it."
Cerus didn't respond to that, and for a moment his rattling breaths were the only thing keeping the silence at bay. Then, at last,
"Your name. I n-never…"
"Tansy," they said, nearly surprised at the question. They never would've thought he'd cared to know it.
"Tansy," he repeated softly. It sounded almost like a thank you.
Once Cerus's breathing had steadied with the rhythm of sleep, Tansy allowed themselves to fully lean back, closing their eyes and trying not to think about what would await them in the morning. Whatever pain the dawn brought, maybe they could make it worth it.
There was an old rule they'd learned while serving in the war. A loophole. The Captain's Right. Initially instated by Feyadel's navy, it was a way for commanding officers to take on a punishment given to their subordinates, a way to protect those who were only following orders. Of course, they weren't exactly in command over Cerus, but their role had been the same.
He hadn't run. He'd only followed.
Claiming Captain's Right would be an unignorable display of their conviction, their determination to see no more harm come to the Shadow King. Maybe it would be enough to wake the village from their hatred. Maybe it would be enough to convince the Council.
It had to be enough. It had to.
It was in the early daylight that the woodshed door swung open, a dozen men crowding around the entryway as four of their number pressed inside to seize Tansy and Cerus.
The former, Tansy saw with a sinking feeling in their stomach, no longer seemed to be responding to the outside world, his body limp as seaweed as the men roughly dragged him from the shed.
Gods, they hoped they wouldn't be too late.
There had been no whipping post in the village square, and as far as Tansy knew that had always been the case. Today though, a rough one had been constructed from discarded wood, kept upright by a worn halyard.
They didn't want to scan the crowd, to see for themselves whether the faces present held contempt, or anger, or shame. Everything that would further reinforce the senselessness of their choice, and further hammer in that Cerus was alone.
A middle-aged man pulled away from the throngs of people, moving to stand between the prisoners and the whipping post, and as he locked a steely gaze, heavy with judgment, into Tansy, the crowd around them fell into a hush. 
"Good people of Feyadel, you may rest easy tonight knowing the tyrant king has been recaptured and punished, alongside the traitor who aided his escape."
Traitor. Tansy tried not to let their anger show as they were callously labelled so.
I played in these streets as a child. I fled with the rest when the fires started. I fought in the war to end the bloodshed.
And yet, it seemed no one here knew those things, or if they did, they didn't care. Tansy clenched their jaw as the man in the center continued.
"This one is young," he said, regarding Tansy. "A wayward fool who can still be taught what is right. For their part in this, they will receive ten lashes before the village. Let all present witness."
Tansy tried to tell themselves it wouldn't be so bad, but in truth they didn't know. Worse than the promised sting of the whip was the reason it would be swung; they'd dared to be kind.
"And for the Shadow King, for attempting to disregard his sentence and shirk his debt to the kingdom—"
Tansy held their breath.
"---Twenty-five lashes."
They exhaled in a hiss. Twenty-five. Thirty-five to be administered in total… the number seemed scarily high. They'd only ever witnessed canings in their time of military service, and never more than ten strikes. For a moment, fear held them in place; weighed down as if by an anchor, but then the men who held Cerus began to drag him towards the makeshift post.
The cruel, helpless, fallen king, who surely wouldn't survive even a dozen blows.
Tansy pulled away from the man that held them, foolhardy compassion winning them over once again.
"Wait!"
Their guard reached for their arm, holding them back. Around them, people turned their attention from Cerus to Tansy, looking to see what the fuss was about.
"Wait!"
The men holding Cerus stopped; the man who'd claimed the position of judgement looking at them expectantly.
"I invoke the Captain's Right!" Tansy called, practically shouting to ensure all could hear it.
Murmurs rose from the crowd immediately, and the man who'd named the sentence seemed to ponder their statement.
"Captain's Right?" he murmured, and one of those near him nodded.
"Aye sir, it's a ship term, sometimes used in the armies."
Tansy stuck out their chin, no doubt looking bolder than they felt. "It's true. And it can't be denied me." 
The men near the post spoke in low voices for a moment, likely explaining the workings of it to one another, and the lead speaker at last gave a curt nod.
"A bigger fool than I'd thought," he said, contempt in his eyes as he stared at Tansy.
Tansy stared right back, silent and unmoving as Cerus was carried away from the post, then moving forward on their own to accept their fate.
"Let me strip before you begin," they said coldly as they reached the center. "I'd rather not ruin a good shirt."
The man said nothing, but didn't move to secure them to the post as they discarded their cloak, then linen shirt, then chest bindings, folding each item neatly and setting it beside them before offering their wrists.
And as the man bound them so that their arms were stretched above their head, a question hissed out from between his teeth.
"Why?"
Tansy didn't even look up at him. "Why do you insist on beating a dying man?" they whispered back. He had no response to that.
They stood as straight as they could, not bothering to fool themselves about what they could endure. The truth of it was they didn't know. Surely they wouldn't end the punishment standing, but they were determined to try, determined to fight through it and look into the eyes of the men who'd insisted it be done, fierce and bleeding.
They heard the muted smack of whip hitting cobblestone and took a breath of cold morning air, willing their muscles to unclench, willing themselves to relax and accept it, no matter who it was they were shielding with their very flesh.
Tansy stood tall, and waited for the first crack; the thunder that came before lightning.
§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§•§
tag list:
@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles @honeycollectswhump @chiswhumpcorner @whatwhumpcomments , @dont-look-me-in-the-eye , @turn-the-tables-on-them , @pigeonwhumps , @itsmyworld23 , @andromeda-liske , @starlit-hopes-and-dreams , @haro-whumps , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @whumpedydump , @mannerofwhump
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fateinthestars · 5 months
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Star-Crossed Myth Fanfic: In Sickness and In Health
A/N: Only gonna post this one here (without tags I guess too) because it's very self indulgent but you know what? I've been ill this week and I don't care. Apologies for any mistakes in this.
Title: In Sickness and In Health
Fandom: Star-Crossed Myth
Pairing: Huedhaut/MC
Rating: T
Genre: Comfort
Word Count: 1,321
Summary: Huedhaut has a vision and suggests MC takes some time off work.
In Sickness And In Health
One evening after work, ___ headed to the mansion to see her husband. She hoped that he would have time to see her today. Winter had arrived and the bad weather was doing little for her mood.
She was greeted at the doorway by Ichthys and Teorus. She didn't particularly like the glint in their eyes.
"Goldie, you should hang out with the rest of us sometime. Recently all your time here has been with…" Teorus suddenly trailed off and stepped back.
Initially surprised, __ relaxed as Huedhaut approached her and took her hand in his.
"Teo, was there not a report you needed to get to Karno by tonight?"
"!!!" Sighing softly, Teorus waved goodbye to ___ and headed off. 
Ichthys on the other hand was looking at her and Huedhaut with a massive grin on his face. "So… what do you two have planned tonight? Want to make things more fun? I'm sure I can think of something!"
"If you do not leave us in peace, I will tell Scorpio about the fake flowers in with the real ones in the courtyard in the Heavens."
"... Geez… alright. I was only trying to be helpful…" Ichthys muttered before skulking off.
Sighing with slight exasperation, Huedhaut turned his attention to ___ now that they were on their own.
"They were just being friendly."
The corners of Huedhaut's mouth twitched up a bit. "That is as maybe, but I have been working all day whilst they have been nothing but a nuisance. Call me selfish if you wish, but do you not think I have earned some alone time with my wife?"
___ stepped nearer to him and pulled him into a hug.
Huedhaut gripped her back tightly, fighting off a blush. "You're impulsive tonight. I may have persuaded those two to leave but we are still in the corridor you know…"
"!!!" ___ pulled back a bit, her own face flushing red now as she looked around to make sure they were still alone. That was when she heard a soft chuckle from Huedhaut. She looked sharply back at him. "Hue?"
"... Your face. Do you really think I would not have teleported us to my room the moment you hugged me if I thought anyone was actually going to walk into this corridor? Teo and Ichthys are the only other two here right now."
___ glowered at him a little and shoved his shoulder playfully. "Hue! That wasn't funny!"
"Oh? It's your own fault for being so bold this evening," Huedhaut replied. He then put a hand to her face. "But here, let me make it up to you," he murmured softly. Brushing her hair back he captured her lips in a soft kiss, before pulling away and placing his forehead against her own.
Suddenly the playful mood evaporated. ___ regarded Huedhaut's troubled expression with worry. "Something the matter?"
"... Do you have work tomorrow?"
___ blinked. That seemed an odd question at this point. "... Yes, why?"
"I think you should take some time off."
"I can't just…" the protests ___ tried to form died in her throat as she looked into his deep blue eyes. He'd clearly had a premonition about something. She sighed softly. "I think I have a few days vacation saved up still."
"Good. You better get home and put that request in."
__ bit her lip. She'd only just got here! But if Huedhaut was this worried… sighing, she kissed him on the cheek. "Alright. You not coming back with me?"
"... I am afraid if I did I would not wish to leave, and my presence is needed in the Heavens tonight."
It was then that ___ noticed how tired his voice was. She hugged him gently. "Don't overdo it."
Huedhaut smirked. "Oh yes I can just imagine the reactions from the others if I told them I was not going to come to the meeting we were all told we should attend because my wife told me not to overdo things…"
___ pushed him away a little. "That's not what I meant and you know it!"
Both laughing, they shared another kiss, before ___ headed back off to her apartment.
***
The next day passed without incident, making ___ wonder why Huedhaut had been so insistent she take the day off. If he'd wanted her to come to the mansion he would have said, but he also hadn't appeared here either. Unless something had come up?
Sighing softly, she started to prepare her dinner, but had to stop as she started sneezing. Her mind went back to the previous evening and recalled how wet she had got walking home from work. Had she got a bit cold? 
In the end she threw together a quick meal, ate and watched tv for a bit, before deciding she might as well go to bed.
***
The next morning, ___ sat blearily up and dried her eyes which were watering. She pushed herself to stand up and headed into the kitchen to try and fix something for breakfast. 
As she started slicing some bread to make some toast, she started coughing so harshly her throat felt like it was on fire. Groaning, she put the knife down before she could drop it. She glanced at the clock. If Huedhaut hadn't suggested she take some time off she would have had to have been at work an hour ago. Putting a hand to her head, she went to reach for the knife again, but her vision wasn't great with her eyes streaming and she couldn't get her coughing under control. 
Staggering over to the sofa she sunk down into it. About to close her eyes, she felt someone reach over from behind the sofa and wrap their arms around her. "... Hue…" she mumbled. "You knew…"
"I did not think it wise for you to go to work when I saw you were ill in my vision," Huedhaut answered softly. "You were here in it but I did not wish for you to potentially make yourself worse."
___ tilted her head up to look at him. Initially going to thank him she sighed as she saw the way his hair was sticking to his forehead. "Hue… I'm grateful… but… how was this any different from me telling you not to overdo it? You're exhausted."
Huedhaut sighed softly and glanced down. "I did listen, you know."
"You just decided to ignore it then?" ___ pressed, between coughs. "After all, you didn't come here yesterday."
"... I did not come here yesterday, because after the meeting the night before I went to rest in my room in the Heavens."
___ looked at him with a frown. "If you've been resting, why do you look like you could faint?"
Huedhaut flinched. He managed a wry smile. "Nothing escapes you does it? Well… maybe that is not quite true…"
"Hue!"
"... recall what you were doing before I got here…"
___ looked over to where the bread knife still lay on the countertop in the kitchen. She then realised she'd misread him slightly. It wasn't exhaustion, it was panic.
Huedhaut moved at this point and sat down beside her on the sofa, draping an arm around her.
She curled into him. "You saw me in the reflecting pool," she murmured. "I'm fine…"
"You are not fine, you are ill," Huedhaut murmured, his voice gentle. "You should rest…" he put a cold hand against her forehead.
___ smiled softly. "Alright… I'm not hurt then… would your vision not have shown you that if I were?"
Huedhaut held her closely to him. "Just because I can catch these glimpses of the future… doesn't mean I don't worry about you." Moving his hand away from her head, he snapped his fingers and a plate of toast with honey appeared.
"... Hue, you should…"
"Let me do this. At least for today."
Smiling softly, ___ finally started to eat her breakfast.
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bihansthot · 7 months
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I’m having just a miserable day, I think my CMV is back. I’m having the same stomach issues and exhaustion I did when I first came down with it. So, I’m suspicious it’s back and not my mycophenolate that’s causing the issue which would make sense because it’s stupid to have a drug I’ve been taking for 25 years suddenly cause side effects although I guess not unheard of. I’m just so exhausted with all these health problems. I just want to be able to write for you lovelies and answer my asks but all I can really do right now is curl up in a pitiful little ball and watch YouTube. I can manage rice, potatoes and bread, that’s about it, thankfully coffee too, so I’m not a complete zombie. I’m sure you’re all sick of me complaining about my physical ailments but fuck it’s been so hard, I just want to be ok again but I’m quickly coming to the realization that 25 years post heart transplant might mean there is no feeling ok again. Apparently there was a big breakthrough in treatment today though and they’re starting human trials on a new drug or antibody or something that doesn’t have awful, crippling, kidney destroying side effects. I wonder if I’ll live long enough to be able to benefit from it? That would be so nice. I think I’m going to take it easy the rest of the evening and maybe give writing a shot tonight? Maybe? We’ll see. I’m accepting any and all positive vibes and hugs if anyone wants to throw some my way. I will call my doctor tomorrow and try and get back on top of this illness instead of not knowing what the heck was happening and letting it run unchecked for months. Hopefully you lovelies are having a good day 💙
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bomberqueen17 · 1 year
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alive
i am alive, i promise, sorry it’s been all queue of late
i made 28 quarts of chicken stock today-- well, packaged it-- actually i made it too, we’d cut the chickens up yesterday and stuck the stock pot in the walk-in cooler overnight but today i put the water in and plonked it on the stove, an enormous stock pot, and simmered it all day while we cut up the rest of the chickens. (yesterday’s chickens we cut up were for sausage, today’s were for sale as parts.) tomorrow we’re ostensibly making the sausage, we’ll see how that goes.
since CSA is over, Farmsister was available to help us today-- but just like last time she helped us, mostly what we needed her to do was to take everything out of the upright freezer in the commercial kitchen and find other places for it to go, which was a heroic undertaking and took her like two hours. it was a lot. she had to restock the farm store just to make room. so it was good, things are beautifully restocked, everything is organized and beautiful, but like, good lord, at what cost.
anyway i just stuck 28 quarts of chicken stock in there so tomorrow we’re gonna have to ask her to do it again, but i believe in her.
i have done like. zero writing this week. lots of 10+ hour days of work, so. oh the insulation in my cabin has been great though. i know it’s november now so i should expect it to be chilly but it’s been like-- warmish during the days mostly, and then in the evening it’s fine and i have actually woken up too hot and sweating twice in the last few days because i was still wearing pajamas and dressing my bed like i expected it to be in the mid-40s in the room where i’m sleeping and... well it’s not.
there’s a mouse making so much fucking noise though, and i haven’t been sleeping well because the fucker like, pitter-patters around the room while i’m trying to sleep. he’s louder because he has to rustle in through the insulation. the roof edging isn’t on properly yet so i cant’ exclude him. so a side project is that i’ve had cayenne steeping in water most of the week, and today i set it up with coffee filters and rubber bands over the mouths of jars, and filtered it into a spray bottle, and i’ve just sprayed cayenne water all along the bottom of the insulation where he’s been coming in. (I know because i can hear him and also see him.) so we’ll see how much noise he makes tonight. i don’t know that cayenne will actually deter him.
anyway i’m gonna have my queue post this tomorrow morning so idk, i’ll hopefully know by then. but i’m so tired, using the queue gives me a minute to proofread and then if i wake up in the middle of the night like “i used that word wrong” i have time to look again when i wake up.
i have so many writing projects underway and no time to work on them. i spent a bunch of time today while i was packaging cold dead raw meat thinking about various projects. it was a nice escape.
here is a surprise snippet from a background bit i’m working on, going slightly back in time to before Ciri re-established the Upper Aedirn Free State, featuring a new OC i’m going to make room for-- a very elderly elf named Faerveren who has aged out of the concept of gender, to give us some unexpected backstory.
Faerveren leaned in the doorway, giving the dh’oine who had so rudely knocked a once-over. He was tall, handsome, self-assured, though he looked a little tired and travel-worn, and the haughty arrogance of his expression was covering a bit of uncertainty. 
“I’m looking for Caerulia Fitzhugh,” he said. 
“I bet you are,” Faerveren said. “Since she lives here.” Faerveren xerself hadn’t lived here terribly long. The Fitzhughs had kindly offered xer a place to stay after xe had come to them injured and ill after the battle for the city. Many elves had needed treatment, but only Faerveren had merited the permanent invitation. Perhaps because the Fitzhughs could appreciate xer age. It was restful, being among others with a similar perspective on the passage of time. 
Faerveren watched the dh’oine’s expression go through disbelief into indignance, and relented slightly. “Are you here on behalf of someone who is sick?”
“No,” he said, frowning, “I need her help.” His frown deepened. “I believe it is not a matter that your kind could understand, elder brother.” He used an Aen Seidhe term, showing that he wasn’t entirely ignorant. 
“Ah,” Faerveren said, “I’m no one’s brother. But I see, you are not the dh’oine you look.” Neither were the Fitzhughs. This was vampire business, then. Another of the reasons Faerveren had been invited to stay was likely the complete lack of reaction xe’d had to the revelation that both Fitzhughs were bruxae. But Faerveren’s people had lived in peace with higher vampires, never their prey and never their antagonists, so it hadn’t been alarming to figure it out. It wasn’t as though they were particularly secretive about it. They tended not to shift or fly where anyone could see them, but Caerulia had a habit of gliding around without touching the ground because of an old foot injury, and nobody seemed to notice. The dwarves of Vergen were singularly unconcerned about vampires as well. 
“No,” the man said. “Can you tell her, Dettlaff is here? She knows me, though it has been years since we spoke.”
Faerveren sighed. “Perhaps you should come in and sit down,” xe said.
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bardicbeetle · 10 months
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wip tag game
tagged by @authoralexharvey
I have so many tag games in my backlog, and tonight is the first one in a while where i feel like I can stay up a little late since my coworker will be back from vacation tomorrow!
If you want to, list the titles of stuff you've been working on lately
I've been writing... a lot of fanfic the last month or so. In addition to sitd but let's just get into it O_O
Safe in the Dark - obviously, the baby, the beloved, the found family vampirism as an ongoing incidental plot device because really this is about healing from your past and creating the life you want for yourself in spite of the things you've done or had done to you, I am on draft God Only Knows What by now and I am loving every second of it, in april I made myself physically ill writing a scene, just yesterday I made myself so giddy about a romance confession that I paced my workplace for thirty minutes. I love it.
Through Another Lens - a lost boys fanfiction that asks a pretty standard question: what if Michael kills that night at the beach party? What if he turns all the way? What if Sam figures out Max bypassed the vampire tests by being invited in? What if Grandpa was a little more Open with his Information about the Undead? Currently 8 chapters deep and trying to figure out if I'm writing this as David/Michael or David/Michael/Star and also trying to figure out if Star wants to go back to being human and also also trying to work out the logistics of poor Michael keeping contact with his human family post fully-vamping-out.
Time Marches On - a kingdom hearts fanfiction following Kairi's training under Master Aqua post-melody of memory. Kairi comes across a Flood Unversed with yellow eyes, recognizes it as the remnant of Vanitas much like she recognized Sora in heartless form way back in KH1. She and Ventus convince the rest of everyone that Vanitas deserves the chance to have a body again, hijinks very obviously ensue. Kairi gets a new keyblade, and rage form, and to be a real actual character. Currently nine? chapters deep? I think?
Forever Onward, Scion - my wizard101 fic series, following the player character "The Young Wizard" from everyone's favorite 2008 children's card game masquerading as an MMORPG. The Young Wizard goes very quickly from exploring the spiral with wonder into being thrust into multiple wars they did not want to fight, committing a murder by age 14, and losing nearly all traces of their identity and humanity along the way. I have...fourteen pieces written for this currently with more on the way as I work my way through the main arcs of the game.
I'm gonna tag @abalonetea, @kaiusvnoir, @coffeewritesfiction, and @captain-kraken, as well as anyone else who would like to steal this tag game and use it like an update post as I have ^_^
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Text
Mackenzie is Rushed to Hospital.
Mackron fanfic.
Mack was in the bar having a pint after he and Chas had given the twins their six o'clock feed.
"Hopefully they won't wake before the next feed" said Chas as Mack started coughing.
"You ok?" asked Chas as Mack winced.
"Not really" said Mack as he coughed up blood. "I feel faint" he said just before he passed out.
"What's going on on this pub" said Jimmy "You trying to scare the customers off? He's the second one this week that's passed out on a pool of blood"
"Shut up Jimmy and help me get him up" said Chas.
"He doesn't look too good" said Jacob who was sitting with Victoria "You'd better call an ambulance"
"I can't go with him Jacob" said Chas "I've got the twins and Isla and Eve to care for"
"I'll go with him" said Jacob The staff know me and I'll get him seen to quickly"
"You're a life saver Jacob" said Chas.
"I'll stay and help you Chas til Jacob gets back" said Victoria. "Bob and Wendy have got Harry today and he's having a sleepover"
Jacob arrived back at the pub after being at the hospital for what seemed like hours.
"Mack had a collapsed lung due to Aaron kicking him" Jacob explained "He's really badly bruised Chas but they've reinflated his lung but they are keeping him in for a couple of days"
"What about the blood he coughed up?" asked Chas.
"It was from the beating but they gave him scans and apart from the lung and the bruises he has no other injuries. He'll be fine don't worry" said Jacob.
"What has Aaron turned into?" Chas asked Charity who had just called in as Chas had called a family meeting.
"Well it isn't the first time he's put Mackenzie in hospital" said Charity. "What's the meeting about?"
"I don't know what to do about Isla and the twins" said Chas "I can't look after them and Isla and Eve. And I've got a pub to run. I'm on my own remember. I'm going to have to ring social services as I have some health issues as well"
"Don't do ring social services Chas" said Gail "Mack will be heart broken"
"Gail's right Chas" said Charity "Me and Gail will be ok. you have some time off. I'll do extra shifts so you just see to the kids"
"Those poor kids. Their mum and dad are in hospital and I might have no choice in the end about ringing social services" said Chas feeling guilty as the rest of the family gathered. "Aaron is going to be in serious trouble over this"
"Well if they both die and he kills a third person he'll be classed as a serial killer" said Gail.
"Oh cheer me up why don't you" said Chas.
Most of the family had arrived and Chas told them she had some news.
"Oh look who the cats dragged in" said Charity as Aaron arrived.
"Now you're all here I can share with you that I have been diagnosed with cancer" said Chas tearfully looking at Aaron who avoided her gaze and promptly left.
"God I could slap him" said Cain.
"No you won't. We"ll all rally round and help Chas" said Moira.
"Chas you can't look after those babies with this hanging over your head. Can't you ring Lucy's parents to help?" asked Charity.
"They are spending time with Lucy. She's really ill and I don't want to bother them" Chas explained.
"Look me and Jacob can have the twins tonight" said Victoria "And we'll see what happens tomorrow. So put social services on hold for now"
"And Cain and I will take Isla" said Moira.
"Those poor babies" said a tearful Chas 'Isla's been pushed from pillar to post and now little Lillia and Iona"
"Aaron should help" said Charity "Isla is his daughter after all"
"I don't want to get mixed up in their domestic troubles" said Chas."This fall out was about custody apparantly"
"Don't worry Chas" said Vicorira as she put the twins in their buggy to take them to hers "It will turn out fine you'll see"
"I hope you're right" said Chas.
"I'm staying here tonight. No arguments" said Charity. "Youre not dealing with this on your own. We'll sort something out in the morning"
31.1.24.
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xxfangz · 6 months
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☆ ፧ 09/23/23 # SATURDAY, first day of fall 🍂
tw's : hints at illness — all photos are mine :)
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[ 9:38 pm ]
i just woke up and now i have to get ready to go clean at my moms house with my grandparents. i gotta get dressed
i got dressed and now im waiting on my grandma to get here. im going to stand my ground with them if they try to pry for things or have me stay with them while still being nice. my dad said he wants to dye a streak in my hair tonight and honestly if he wants to dye my hair i think i should go all out :3
[ 11:22 pm ]
im cleaning rn :) my room at my moms is so bare and its sad to see but i have to let it go,, i get a sandwich soon i think! but idk alot of emotions at once but im getting alot done, and i got to see my dog!! hes so sweet :) i can tell hes missed me. hopefully ill dye my hair soon but idk im very overly anxious rn
[ 12:28 pm ]
i just had lunch and now im getting tired all of a sudden but i have to cleann ughhh. and i cant go back to my dad's until after dinner with my grandparents :) i may see if i can go on a walk to wake myself up!
[ 1:38pm ]
i went on a walk then saw my mom, shes not doing any better. im so tired and feel awful but i have to clean, pack, and have dinner at my grandparents before i go home :/ but ill try and get over with as quick as possible lol
[ 3:58 pm ]
i woke up from a nap then went to my grandparents house :) theyre starting dinner YAY! im going to draw until dinners ready, eat, then go home!
[ 6:46 pm ]
i had dinner about 5pm and now im back at my dads and we're starting to work on my room!! im so excited :) im gonna get my hair dyed professionally soon!! i think.. i hope. LOL im just nervous about my grandparents seeing my hair and getting pissy but blehhhhhh. IM SO EXCITED THOUGH ILL DEFINITELY SHOW IT WHEN I GET IT DONE.
[ 8:41 pm ]
WW GOT PAINT AND STUFF TO MAKE SHELVES AND THENN PICKED UP DINNER!! im so excited yet so tired so im having a coke (-a-cola) !!!! i think we're doing one wall tonight then the rest tomorrow :3 ill attatch photos of what we get done
[ 12:15 am ]
okay im going to bed im soooooo sleepy omg. my dad actually painted two walls tonight :) i only helped a little but it still made me so sleepy.
GOODNIGHT / GOOD MORNING! THANK YOU 4 READING !! * all photos posted here are by me
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authcenter · 3 years
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tumblr is dead again so that gives me an excuse to talk about whatever i want
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gimme-mor · 3 years
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BETWEEN THE LINES: NIGHT COURT ELAIN & SPRING COURT FEYRE
*DISCLAIMER*
This is a really long post and based on my interpretation of the text.
This is strictly an analysis of Elain as a character because, in my opinion, there isn’t a lot of talk about Elain outside of ships and conversations about her character arc typically revolve around to whom she is paired, especially if that person is Azriel. She is her own character and gets the short end of the stick in the fandom because everyone is more concerned about who she’s shipped with rather than her as a character.
Also, anyone who is rude/condescending will automatically be blocked.
In ACOSF, SJM went out of her way on two occasions to highlight Elain not looking good in black. While it may be minor or insignificant to some, I think those instances were meant to show something about Elain specifically and what she may be going through in the Night Court. Elain has been a passive character for the most part, contributing to things in her own way earlier in the series. But after she was taken by the Cauldron, her safety has become everyone’s main concern and the other characters have slowly excluded her from courtly matters. In ACOWAR, this was understandable because she was traumatized and not fully present. However, as of ACOSF, Elain was still excluded from courtly matters with the other characters heavily relying upon Nesta, who made her reservations known, because they were on a time constraint and couldn’t afford to wait for Elain to reacquaint herself with her powers.
The fact that the other characters use the kidnapping situation to excuse their current actions toward Elain is eerily similar to the way Tamlin and Lucien used the Under the Mountain events to excuse Tamlin’s actions toward Feyre in ACOMAF. And the characters use Elain and Feyre’s safety to justify why neither of them should be involved. In my opinion, Elain in the Night Court resembles Feyre in the Spring Court because not only do they experience similar things, but both of them are (or were in Feyre’s case) in places that stunt their growth. Even though Night Court Elain isn’t exposed to all of the things that Spring Court Feyre was exposed to, the similarities in their experiences (and how those similarities might potentially impact Elain similarly to the way they impacted Feyre) shouldn’t be overlooked.
Being monitored
Feyre
I was too watched-too monitored and judged. Why should the bride of the High Lord learn to fight if peace had returned? That had been Ianthe’s reasoning when I’d made the mistake of mentioning it at dinner. Tamlin, to his credit, had seen both sides: I’d learn to protect myself...but the rumors would spread. (ACOMAF)
“Tamlin-Tamlin, I can’t...I can’t live my life with guards around me day and night. I can’t live with that...suffocation. Just let me help you-let me work with you.” (. . .) “I’m drowning,” I managed to say. “I am drowning. And the more you do this, the more guards...You might as well be shoving my head under the water.” (ACOMAF)
Elain
Nesta said, “The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried.” Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace. Nesta met his stare, knowing he was the only one aside from Feyre who could truly understand her hesitation. He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain-he knew the risk. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.” She believed him. “All right.” (ACOSF)
Trying to fit in
Feyre
I hated the bright dresses that had become my daily uniform, but didn’t have the heart to tell Tamlin-not when he’d bought so many, not when he looked so happy to see me wear them. Not when his words weren’t far from the truth. The day I put on my pants and tunics, the day I strapped weapons to myself like fine jewelry, it would send a message far and clear across the lands. So I wore the gowns, and let Alis arrange my hair-if only so it would buy these people a measure of peace and comfort. (ACOMAF)
I sometimes debated asking her to pray for me as well. To pray that I’d one day learn to love the dresses, and the parties, and my role as a blushing, pretty bride. (ACOMAF)
Elain
And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court-and would do whatever she needed. (ACOSF)
So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court...It sucked the life from her. (ACOSF)
Pretending everything’s all right
Feyre
“Fine,” I breathed. I made myself look him in the eye, made myself smile. (ACOMAF)
Elain
“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you-all right?” Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left-to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face. I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face. (ACOFAS)
Clothes not looking right on them
Feyre
I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts...The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air (. . .) I might have dealt with it all if it weren’t for the puffy capped sleeves, so big I could almost see them glinting from the periphery of my vision. My hair had been curled, half up, half down, entwined with pearls and jewels and the Cauldron knew what, and it had taken all my self-control to keep from cringing at the mirror before descending the sweeping stairs into the main hall. (ACOMAF)
I again surveyed the room, my wedding gown hissing on the warm marble floors. I peered down at myself. You look ridiculous. (ACOMAF)
Elain
Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. (ACOSF)
Looking good in clothes that suit them and that fact being pointed out
Feyre
My high-waisted peach pants were loose and billowing, gathered at the ankles with velvet cuffs of bright gold. The long sleeves of the matching top were made of gossamer, also gathered at the wrists, and the top itself hung just to my navel, revealing a sliver of skin as I walked. Comfortable, easy to move in-to run. Feminine. Exotic. (ACOMAF)
But those claws now dug in-and my entire body, my heart, my lungs, my blood yielded to his grip, utterly at his command as he said, The fashion of the Night Court suits you. (ACOMAF)
Elain
Gone was the ill-suited black dress from the ball, replaced by a gown of amethyst velvet, her hair half-up and curling down to her waist. She glowed with good health. (ACOSF)
People not wanting them to be involved in things
Feyre
“I want to go.” “No.” I crossed my arms, tucking my tattooed hand under my right bicep, and spread my feet slightly further apart on the dirt floor of the stables. “It’s been three months. Nothing’s happened, and the village isn’t even five miles-” “No.” (ACOMAF)
“I could use my powers against Hybern.” “That’s out of the question,” Tamlin said, “especially as there will be no war against Hybern.” “Rhys says war is inevitable, and we’ll be hit hard.” Lucien said drily, “And Rhys knows everything?” “No-but...He was concerned. He thinks I can make a difference in any upcoming conflict.” Tamlin flexed his fingers-keeping those claws contained. “You have no training in battle or weaponry. And even if I started training you today, it’d be years before you could hold your own on an immortal battlefield.” He took a tight breath. “So despite what he thinks you might be able to do, Feyre, I’m not going to have you anywhere near a battlefield. Especially if it means revealing whatever powers you have to our enemies. You’d be fighting Hybern at your front, and have foes with friendly faces at your back.” “I don’t care-” “I care,” Tamlin snarled. Lucien whooshed out a breath. “I care if you die, if you’re hurt, if you will be in danger every moment for the rest of our lives. So there will be no training, and we’re going to keep this between us.” (ACOMAF)
Elain
“Nesta’s spine straightened. No one spoke, but their attention lingered on her like a film on her skin. ‘You will not go looking for it.’” (ACOSF)
“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.” (. . .) “Keep out of this,” she hissed at her youngest sister. “I have no doubt you put these thoughts in her head, probably encouraging her to throw herself into harm’s way-” (ACOSF)
Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.” Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” “But Nesta should?” Cassian growled. Everyone stared at him. He swallowed, offering an apologetic glance to Az, who shrugged it off. Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.” (ACOSF)
“I think Eris is our ally, and will expect to dance with a lady of this court at the ball no matter what. I won’t let Feyre within five feet of him, Mor might kill him, and Amren is more likely to scare him off than win him over, so you and Elain are the only options.” “Elain doesn’t go near him,” Feyre said. (ACOSF)
Their safety being brought up when they want to be involved
Feyre
“Please. The recovery efforts are so slow. I could hunt for the villagers, get them food-” “It’s not safe,” Tamlin said, again nudging his stallion into a walk. The horse’s coat shone like a dark mirror, even in the shade of the stables. “Especially not for you.” He’d said that every time we had this argument; every time I begged him to let me go to the nearby village of High Fae to help rebuild what Amarantha had burned years ago (. . .) “People want to come back, they want a place to live-” “Those same people see you as a blessing-a marker of stability. If something happened to you…” (. . .)Tamlin said softly, “I can’t do what I need to if I’m worrying about whether you’re safe.” (ACOMAF)
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmured. “It’s fine,” I breathed. “I understand.” Not a lie, but not quite the truth. His fingers grazed lower, circling my belly button. “You are-you’re everything to me,” he said thickly. “I need...I need you to be all right. To know they can’t get to you-can’t hurt you anymore.” (ACOMAF)
“Tamlin got what I didn’t,” Lucien said softly, his breathing ragged. “We all heard your neck break. But you got to come back. And I doubt that he will ever forget that sound, either. And he will do everything in his power to protect you from that danger again, even if it means keeping secrets, even if it means sticking to rules you don’t like. In this, he will not bend. So don’t ask him to-not yet.” (ACOMAF)
“Did he let you take me today,” I said hoarsely, “so that I’d stop asking to help rebuild?” “No. I decided to take you myself. For that exact reason. They don’t want or need your help. Your presence is a distraction and a reminder of what they went through.” (. . .) “I know you wanted to help,” Lucien offered. “I’m sorry.” So was I. (ACOMAF)
Elain
“The last time we involved ourselves with the Cauldron, it abducted you,” Nesta countered, fighting her shaking. (ACOSF)
“Like calls to like,” Amren countered. “You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.” Nesta swallowed. “I can’t.” But to let Elain involve herself, jeopardize her safety- (ACOSF)
Nesta’s pulse pounded throughout her body. “Do you not remember the war? What we encountered? Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?” “I do,” Elain said coldly. (ACOSF)
If it was between her and Elain, there was no choice at all. She would always go first if it meant keeping Elain from harm. Even if she’d just hurt her sister more than she could stomach. (ACOSF)
Pushing back against what others want
Feyre
He hissed, “You have no idea how hard it is for him to even let you off the estate grounds. He’s under more pressure than you realize.” “I know exactly how much pressure he endures. And I didn’t realize I’d become a prisoner.” “You’re not-” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not how it is and you know it.” “He didn’t have any trouble letting me hunt and wander on my own when I was a mere human. When the borders were far less safe.” “He didn’t care for you the way he does now. And after what happened Under the Mountain…” The words clanged in my head, along my too-tense muscles. “He’s terrified. Terrified of seeing you in his enemies’ hands. And they know it, too-they know all they have to do to own him would be to get ahold of you.” “You think I don’t know that? But does he honestly expect me to spend the rest of my life in that manor, overseeing servants and wearing pretty clothes?” (ACOMAF)
Elain
Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove-how?” Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.” Nesta’s head went silent as Elain’s words finished sounding in the room. Feyre had twisted in her seat, face white with alarm. Nesta shot to her feet. “No.” Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.” (ACOSF)
“It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.” Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to...reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” “Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.” “Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.” (ACOSF)
Being used as pawns against others
Feyre
“We need you to tell us everything,” Tamlin said. “The layout of the Night Court, who you saw, what weapons and powers they bore, what Rhys did, who he spoke to, any and every detail you can recall.” “I didn’t realize I was a spy.” Lucien shifted in his seat, but Tamlin said, “As much as I hate your bargain, you’ve been granted access into the Night Court. Outsiders rarely get to go in-and if they do, they rarely come out in one piece. And if they can function, their memories are usually...scrambled. Whatever Rhysand is hiding in there, he doesn’t want us knowing about it.” (ACOMAF)
Elain
Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes...His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.” His mouth tugged to the side. “If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever...do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows? Either for gain, or to ensure she stays safe?” “You let him hear everything tonight, though.” (. . .) I considered his question: Did I trust Lucien? “I don’t know, either,” I admitted, and sighed. “I don’t like that Elain is a pawn in this.” “I know. It’s never easy.” (ACOWAR)
Cassian glowered at Amren. “It’s not right to wield Elain as a threat to manipulate Nesta into scrying.” “There are harsher ways to convince Nesta, boy.” (ACOSF)
Although Elain and Feyre are surrounded by two different groups of people with varying levels of care for their wellbeing, they’re treated similarly which is hard to overlook. In Elain’s situation, Nesta, Azriel, and Feyre take on the “Tamlin role” (either undermining Elain’s attempts to contribute to things or preventing Elain from helping altogether) while everyone else takes on the “Lucien role” (validating the concerns of others while also enabling their behaviors, which doesn’t support Elain’s desire to be involved).
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qyllenhaal · 2 years
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Good Wives Club [4]
Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 5.4k.
Spin-off to American Pie
Chapter Three || Chapter Five
Summary: It’s been more than a year since she’s escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn’t care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what’s rightfully his.
Content (this chapter): Infidelity, mentions of sex (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), period-typical misogyny, body shaming.
A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates! I was having a case of writers block, but I’m feeling better now and hoping to update more frequently in the future. I’ll be posting tomorrow either a Lee or Dad!Chris one-shot, just depends on what I finish first. Enjoy!
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It was a pretty warm night for a burgeoning fall night. Lee needed to get up and go use the restroom, but his entire body felt heavy. Florence let him fuck her tonight, which felt like a feat within itself, but he wasn’t particularly satisfied. Sure, he was able to get off without using his own hand for the first time in a good while, but it was not the best time of his life. He took her from behind too which was one of his favorite positions, but his heart wasn’t in it as he fucked her. He feared a name that was not Florence would slip out of his mouth if he let himself get too lost in thought; a name that belonged to the sweet girl he was once very familiar with.
He's playing a dangerous game dealing with two women, one being his wife, who are somewhat friends with each other. It was easier to sneak around with Y/n when she was working at the bar because Florence wouldn't know anyone who dared to step foot in Tecumseh; she even judged Lee's sister for working there. 
He hasn’t fucked Y/n, yet, but he feels like he gets to have his cake and can eat it too. He has Y/n around, who he believes he is going to eventually fall back into his old ways with, and he still has a wife. But, Lee runs the risk of making himself too sick on sugar.
"I just don't understand why she dresses like that. I mean, she's a very pretty girl, but her dresses are always too big on her. I’ve only seen her look decent once."
Florence was bored with her life, and Y/n is her new pet project. Lee feels bad that his old fling has to get caught in this whirlwind just so he can keep her around, but he doesn't feel that bad. He isn't fond of the way Florence talks about Y/n as if Florence is just playing with dolls. However, he isn't going to go out of his way to defend Y/n and make his wife suspicious. Florence would begin to question him on why he’s so quick to defend her. She is right about Y/n's ill-fitting dresses though. However, Lee finds it a bit endearing since he knows she's not accustomed to this new life. Florence is supposed to be helping her out in some way per the request of Lou, but it sounds like she's keen on judging more than helping.
"Play nice," Lee pats her back as she rests against him. If only she'd stop worrying about others so damn much, Lee thought to himself, then she wouldn't have driven him into the arms of another woman. Of course, she’s not the one at fault because she’s not the one who was cheating, but Lee doesn’t see it that way. He doesn't mind blaming Florence for his own faults, his own weaknesses.
"I am playing nice. I'm just being truthful!"
"Well then take her out to one of those women shops you and Suzy go to. Just suggest that she try something new, don't force her."
Lee is speaking from experience. When he was just eyeing her, Lee had watched her shut down the men who came on strong too her. Some of those men would be so tipsy that saying “I want to fuck the shit out you” didn’t seem like a bold thing to say to a stranger. The only reason why Lee had success with her is because he eased her into trusting him. He was charismatic as he talked to her, and he made sure that she knew that he was authority. From his experience, girls like Y/n liked someone who had more power over them. Her eyes would constantly flash to the badge on his jacket when he would talk to her in those early days of knowing each other. She would often look a little scared even though she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Once he had her in his grasp was when he let down his guard around her. If his wife is so adamant on shaping her then she’ll have to be nicer and persuade Y/n without making it too obvious.
"I'm not forcing anything on anyone, Lee," her voice begins to rise in defense.
"I'm not saying you are Flo, just giving a suggestion," his softer voice placates his wife. He doesn’t like it when she gets an attitude with him, but he’s becoming too tired to argue with her at this time of night.
They let a bout of silence fill the air. The lull of Lee's steady breathing calms Florence down even though her mind is swirling with plans to take Y/n out to one of her favorite shops’. 
She clings to Lee as if he's all she's got in this world. Her family doesn’t live close to her anymore and her friendships feel fickle at times. Florence wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even to Suzy, but she sometimes believes her husband doesn't want her like he used to. Tonight Lee fucked her like he was desperate for release, but not particularly her. It would just crush her if she knew he was fueled by thoughts of another woman and not her.
"You should put her in one of those blue dresses — what did you say the name of it was called...cerulean?"
Lee butchered the pronunciation of the name of the color, but it didn't stop Florence's heart from dropping. That was her color. 
When they were dating Lee said she was the only one who could pull that color off and that it looked perfect against her soft skin. She even made sure to have blue flowers of the same shade at their wedding. Why would he suggest that she have someone who’s practically a stranger wear that color?
She doesn’t want to believe the unfathomable idea of Lee finding Y/n even slightly attractive. She knows that men sometimes have wandering eyes, and that Y/n is a pretty, and younger girl, but she's his wife. She has been there with him from the very beginnings of his career, his first year as sheriff, and the present. No woman, no one at all, could compare to her. She has bent over backwards and completely stretched herself thin for him time and time again. The house looks like it could be in a Sears catalogue, and she cooks like the women featured in the home and family magazines, and she keeps her husband full and happy.
However, all it took was one suggestion from Lee and her sturdy foundation in the belief of their marriage becomes weaker. She has let a lot of bullshit slide over the years, but this one, as small it may seem, cuts deep.
But she is a good wife, and good wives don't complain. She’s the one laying in the same bed with him, no one else. She keeps her mouth shut and just falls asleep with her head against her husband's chest instead.
-
There has been an uptick in calls from Florence to Y/n’s home these days.
Y/n avoided picking up the phone days after she left Florence's house to make preserves, but she had no choice but to talk to her after Lou picked up the phone and called her into the kitchen. Much to Y/n's relief, Florence just wanted to talk. There were no invites to a nice dinner, nor did she talk about a new event happening in town that she wanted Y/n and Lou to attend. She wanted to talk to Y/n about the mundane things in their lives.
It was still so surprising that Florence of all people wanted to be her friend. None of the other women extended this type of kindness to her at all. But the one wife all the others gravitate towards is trying to involve Y/n in her day-to-day activities. The ironic part was that everyone knew Florence, and Florence knew everyone, but she seems to spend most of her time with Suzy. She mentions some other women, but Y/n has never seen her with anyone other than Suzy. Lee has told her before that Florence isn't as friendly as she appears. She used to believe that Florence was going to be some raging bitch because of him, but Florence has been nothing but nice to her.
"The thing about my wife is, once she finds that one thing that really bothers ya, she just picks and picks and picks."
Lee painted a picture of Florence that, in Y/n's eyes, is becoming more obscure the longer she knows her. It gives her whiplash because the way Lee talked about her, there was no way that everything he had said was a lie. Yet, here she was, talking daily with the woman and she seemed to be an alright person.
Y/n eventually began to give up on her efforts in avoiding Florence. She called too much, and her husband happened to like Florence too. Lou would ask daily if Y/n had any plans with Florence and would be disappointed when she would say no. Everyone seems to like Florence, everyone except for her own husband.
"Suzy and I are going to Fiona's tomorrow. They finally have next season's dresses out on display. Do you want to come with us?"
Y/n would rather say no, but she's enticed by a trip to Fiona's. She had passed the boutique one day during her first month in Brewer Heights. She was in awe of the dresses they had displayed in the window, her eyes glossing over the high quality material with patterns she's doesn’t know the names of Wearing the nice dresses Lou's mother gave her felt like putting on a costume, but if she was going to wear one, she wanted it to be from Fiona's. Lou had told her no when he saw the shop. It looked like it was going to be expensive. He was adamant about not wasting money on "petty things." He changed his tune and had no problem agreeing to let her "have a few dollars" if she was going to go out with Florence.
Y/n is not as stupid as people, including her own husband, seem to treat her. Everything Lou allows or suggests her to do is linked to Florence. Florence is a model wife in her husband’s eyes.
For the small amount of time she knew him before they were married, Lou never seemed to be hung up on wanting a particular kind of woman. Which is why it’s so shocking that he fawns over everything Florence does. It annoys her despite feeling somewhat grateful at the kindness she has shown her so far.
Y/n supposes the change in his behavior came around the time it was disclosed to her by Lou's sister, and not Lou himself, that their father showed signs of sickness. Lou had not been so ornery with her during the first few months of their marriage. He was quite kind and sweet despite his dedication to taking over a large part of the family business. He never expressed that she was doing something wrong and failing as his wife, and he never treated her as if she was just a pretty thing to fuck. She believed she was the wife material the men at the bar talked about when Lou slipped that ring onto her finger, the one that had belonged to his grandmother. But the honeymoon phase ended around the time he must’ve learned the news. He became much stricter and impatient with her. Her friendship with Florence seems to both invigorate her husband and make him more critical of her.
"You should let Florence show you how to dress. She always looks put together."
It hurt her to hear him say that considering those dresses were a gift from his own mother. Not to mention the memory of him always saying that she looked so pretty in the dresses that were passed down to her. She swore that he only wanted to see her in them since he was so keen on keeping family traditions and staying close with them.
She accepted Florence’s invite for a Thursday morning get together. Lou dropped her off before heading to work and she gave him a kiss before he left her in the town’s center. Florence told her to meet her and Suzy at the store, but Lou had dropped her off at the wrong store. He was gone before she could catch his attention. It wasn’t that hard to figure out where she was and how to get to where she needed to be, but she still cursed her husband for not even caring about where he dropped her off.
A few blocks later, and Y/n could see the two women facing away from her as they stood in front of the building. Florence was leaning into Suzy and talking to her about something. The closer she got to them, the more she was able to decipher what she was saying.
"I just love this time of year. Lee hates it because he has to rake up the leaves, but the changing color of leaves are so gorgeous."
The conversation was innocuous. A small part of Y/n thought that she might catch them talking bad about her. She shouldn't assume people are gossiping, her mother always said, but she knows how the women around here are, even if they are nice to her face.
"Good morning."
Her voice is weak as she greets the two chatting women. They turn around, big smiles on their faces that are painted with make-up even at 10 am. Y/n didn't want to play the comparison game, but she can't bring herself to stop it. Florence's soft blush and red lips make her look softer and pretty compared to Y/n's bare face. It hasn't been that long since she's seen her, but she even looks like she's lost a few pounds. Her dress was cinched at the waist and hugged her body.
"Oh! We were worried you wouldn't show!"
Y/n worried she had made them wait too long. She walked as fast as she could, but she decided to wear nice shoes today, not thinking she would have to do all that walking. She pressed a smile through the slight pain in her feet and the sweat on her skin. The end of summer's heat was bothersome today despite the previous days being gloomy. Florence and Suzy looked unphased by it while Y/n is sure she’d see a mess staring back at her through the shop’s window.
"Fiona's just opened, which is perfect and we’ll beat the crowd."
The money Lou gave her is in her pocket; the most he's ever given to her. She hasn't had this much money to spend on something frivolous since she was working, and that kind of money only came from the nicer customers, Lee being one of them.
Standing next to Florence and Suzy made her feel like a young girl finally being allowed to sit at the big girl’s table. It showed in the way she held herself and how she dressed. Both of the women were nearly a decade older than her. Her unpolished looks make people gloss over her here. And it left her stumped as to why it boiled down to the way she dressed.
The only style influence she had was photos of her grandmother she would look at when she was a younger girl. Her clothes being hand-me-downs didn’t help either. Her outfits were criticized for making her look like a  “prissy bitch” when she was working at the bar, but that was only because she wasn’t showing enough skin. 
"They wanna see legs, sweetheart. You're gonna wanna get you some shorts."
Those first words Sandy uttered to her were helpful in the end, but at the time Y/n was put off by her then-new co-worker. Y/n would have never guessed that she was related to Lee just because the two lived such different lives. He was a cop while she worked at a cesspool. Y/n wonders how well Sandy and Florence got along when she was still around. She can't imagine them being good girlfriends and going out shopping like Y/n is doing with Florence today.
The store clerk turned her attention to the door when she heard the bell ring. Florence and Suzy were regulars, often combing through the racks for the newest shipments and colors they have yet to have in their closets. But Y/n was a new face. The woman, tall with dark black hair, was intrigued by her presence. In just a few short seconds she already has an idea of what would look good for her figure. She was just a little bit shorter than Florence and Suzy, but it's probably because she's wearing flats instead of shoes with a little bit of a heel. Her outfit is homely at best, which the store clerk doesn't think is necessarily a bad thing, but there are ways to dress modestly while still looking somewhat sexy. It was the mid-60s after all; JFK is dead and counterculture is a-brewing.
"Jen, this is Y/n."
"So nice to meet you," her voice was like satin as she greeted Y/n. It’s no wonder Florence and Suzy fawn over a place like this; the store clerk has the charm to sell expensive clothes to desperate housewives. And she exposes just the right amount of cleavage that could turn men on without being called a whore by their wife.
"We're in here for a few dresses for Y/n."
"That's lovely. What are you looking for?"
It was a harder question to answer than Y/n expected. She gave a quick glance around the store and there were styles she had never seen before. Some of these outfits looked like something a big city woman would wear. She can't just say she wants to wear something "pretty", that's too vague, and everything in here is pretty, but it doesn't mean she'd look good in it. 
She's here because her husband wants her to dress nice like Florence, but she doesn't know what he likes particularly about the way Florence dresses.
What she does know is that the only thing men seemed to like her in something revealing. Her most popular nights at the bar was when she had her breasts spilling out of her top.
"Wish I could see you in those little garter belts like the magazine pin-up models...put you in some red lipstick and fuck it off of your face."
That’s what Lee wanted to see from her. She can’t help but think of that memory after he made her take him in her mouth last week. In a different world she would be at one of those shops that sell something a little more risque, picking up something sexy for her hardworking husband. She'd make him a good meal and then surprise him with the skimpy, lacy material hugging her body. Lee would devour her even when she wore clothes with holes in them — she can only imagine what he would do if she was in lingerie for him.
But, she's not going home to him tonight. She has another man to satisfy.
"I like floral prints. Stripes are nice too."
The store clerk, name tag reading ‘Jennifer’, expected such a dull answer from her. It’d be easy to get her to buy anything since she has no clue what she thinks she looks good in beyond what just looks pretty on the rack. Her eyes flash over to Florence who is nodding after Y/n finishes her sentence. She’s looks as if she already knows what Y/n should be wearing. Florence is a control freak, she knows that, so she minus well let Florence handle it.
"Okay, well, why don't you have a look around?"
Suzy had gone to look for her own new dress after the dismissal, and even the store clerk went back to her seat behind the checkout counter, but Florence was hovering around Y/n. She tried to make it seem like she was just browsing, however she stayed too close for it to be a coincidence. She just couldn't help but know what Y/n was going to pick-out. She remembered Lee telling her not to force the girl, but she winces at some of the dresses Y/n was gravitating towards. Florence doesn't believe Y/n has good taste, not like her.
"How about this one?" Florence holds up the orange dress that caught her eye, "I think this one would complement your skin."
The pattern of tiny dots made Y/n dizzy just looking at it, but she grabbed it from Florence's hand regardless and held it up to her body.
"It's nice, but it might be too much. I’m not sure how Lou would feel about it." The bright orange would pull more eyes towards her, but she doesn’t believe it would be for good reasons.
Florence didn't like Y/n rejecting her choice but she didn't say anything. She was slightly right about it being too much for a person like her, but Florence figured that since she was younger that she could pull it off. However, much to her disdain, Y/n began to eye a dress that was similar in to her color.
"I think this is pretty." Y/n holds it up to show off to Florence. She thought she'd like her choice since it's so similar to a dress she's worn before. There wasn't a smile on her face like Y/n expected to see. Instead Florence looked slightly perturbed.
"Do you think you can fit that?"
Her reaction to Y/n’s question was quick and her tone was biting. Y/n stammered as she tried to come up with something to say. She felt stupid. She thought she was doing the right thing, but she’s only left feeling embarrassed.
"I-I think so."
There were multiple sizes of the dress hanging on the rack, and Y/n is sure she can fit into one of them. But Florence's tone and the look on her face made Y/n put the dress back onto the rack. 
"I can try something similar to the orange one you picked out for me," Y/n tried to offer in order to placate her. She was less concerned with pleasing herself, and pleasing Florence to get her off her back. Out of the two Bodeckers', Lee was definitely the low-maintenance one.
"That's what I thought. Let's go try it on."
-
The plate of food in front of her had mostly gone untouched. Florence ordered for them, and even offered to pay. It wasn’t like Y/n wasn’t hungry, her stomach was growling from deciding to skip breakfast, but she couldn’t work up the courage to eat in front of the two women. That moment in Fiona’s keeps playing in her head over and over again, and it dampens her appetite. She left the store with three dresses she really didn't care for and an insecurity that hasn't reared its head in years. 
She’d occasionally poke at her food, but she wasn’t going to finish it. The small garden salads Florence and Suzy ate certainly won’t keep them satisfied for more than 30 minutes. They turned up their noses at the waitresses carrying plates with fried food passing by them.
"I don't know how anyone eats that stuff. Whenever Dan comes home with McDonalds I throw out whatever he buys for me. I can't believe he sometimes prefers it over what I cook for him."
"Lee hasn't eaten anything fried since the last doctor's appointment. He's down a few pounds, but he would be slimmer if he stopped with the sweets."
"I thought he beat the candy habit."
"Not exactly," Florence lets out a huff of frustration, not as the situation with her husband's knack for candy, but at Suzy for bringing it up, "just like Dan hasn't been able to stop staying out late."
Both Y/n and Suzy were taken back by what Florence had said. This attitude of hers had come out of nowhere. Y/n expected her to be short with a stranger, or even herself, but not her supposed close friend. But, Suzy kept her resolve and pretended like Florence hadn't insinuated her husband was stepping out on her. It was ironic since Y/n can only assume that Lee, despite what he said, still has his "late work nights" where he's buried in some younger girl instead of filling out paperwork.
"Lee's been stressed lately; especially since that kid overdosed in Knockemstiff. Having a lemon drop or two isn't going to hurt him."
After those harsh words from Florence, Suzy says nothing in response, she just nods like Y/n tends to do whenever Florence speaks.
"Excuse me," Florence begins to slide out of the booth, "I just have to use the women's room. I'll be right back."
Even when Florence is not in sight, her presence is felt. The smell of her perfume lingered in the air and Suzy stayed silent as if Florence was still there. Florence has been tense since that moment at Fiona's, and Y/n feels bad that something she may have did is being misguided towards Suzy instead of Y/n.
"Do you like your salad, Suzy?"
"It's quite nice. I usually get the pecan salad, but since Florence is ordering I just go with whatever she gets," her voice was jilted yet tired. There was an unspoken solidarity between the two women who had been chewed out by Florence today, "I'm sorry that Florence isn't acting quite like herself today. I think things between her and Lee are a little funny right now."
Y/n was intrigued. She can’t help but feel a slight sense of guilt knowing that whatever rift may be happening between the married couple is most likely her fault.
"What do you mean?"
Suzy paused to make sure Florence, or anyone else, wasn't within earshot. She leans in across the table so her voice doesn't travel far.
"I think she's pressing him for kids again. He doesn't seem to be keen on havin’ them, but he's getting older, and so is she. She thinks he might not want kids at all."
"Oh," Y/n's response is weak and pathetic. The woman had been mean to her, but gossiping about her feels dirty despite her wanting to know what she keeps secret from Y/n. The topic of the Bodeckers' having kids always made Y/n feel guilty. She knows more than she'll ever admit to either woman, but hearing it from Florence's side made her feel like a traitor despite no real alliance to her.
"Florence can be a little bit on the mean side when something is going on between her and her husband. Lee has a difficult job, but Florence sometimes has a hard time understanding that. She wants to be a mother, but she can be so selfish sometimes. If she just stopped getting into everyone else's business then she'd be able to work out her problems with her husband.
Suzy was starting to rant, and it feels like something she has wanted to get off her chest for a long time. Y/n wanted to ask her why she stays friends with Florence if she's not a good person. But, Y/n thought about how she stayed at Tecumseh despite the treatment she received from customers and her boss, and she thought about how she kept seeing Lee after knowing he was a married man. Suzy wouldn't have much here if her friendship with Florence ends.
Her conscience told her to let the conversation end, but there was a part of her that wanted to know more. It was the same part of her that didn't care Lee was married when he'd come around the bar looking for her.
Suzy couldn't say anymore though because Florence had come back to the table. Suzy looked off to the side as if she wasn't just divulging the details of her friend's life to someone who is sort-of-kind-of a stranger.
"Guess who I just saw on the way to the bathroom; Darlene! I didn't know that brother of hers was back in town. Hopefully he's not here to cause any trouble..."
-
The last stop of the day as a trio was the grocery store. Y/n was somewhat confused because she wouldn't consider a run to the grocery store a part of a girl's day, but Florence had pushed the basket into her hands and told her to pick something up for her husband. Tonight's dinner was already planned, but it wouldn't hurt to buy something extra with the little money she had leftover.
Her eyes scanned over the shelves as she looked for the things she remembered Florence having in her cabinets. Her thoughts and feelings on the lady are conflicting, but she knows how to cook a meal, that’s for certain.
The amount of options were dizzying almost. Most of the food and seasonings that filled their kitchen came from Lou's mother or he bought them himself. Y/n wasn't in charge of the shopping. She barely made proper meals for herself back when she was unmarried, so this new found freedom with food options had her stumped. She considered finding Florence to ask her a few questions, but she has too much pride right now to show Florence that she needs help.
"Psst."
Y/n turns around to look down the aisle. She swears she heard something, but there is no one else in this aisle. It's been a long day, and she's tired and needs to rest.
"Hey."
The voice was louder this time and it wasn't coming from the aisle she's in, but the one on the other side. She pushes a box of rice on the top shelf to the side and she almost jumps when she sees Lee's face staring back at her.
"Florence got you here?" She nods in response and he smirks while letting out a small laugh. His wife wasn't being subtle at all. "Where is she?"
There was a tinge of jealousy in her stomach when he asked that. She should've expected it, she is his wife after all. However, she was unsure about where her standing with Lee was after the other day.
"I-I don't know. She went down a separate aisle."
Lee wiped the corners of his mouth as he looked away from her. He was going to get out of here before Florence caught sight of him, but he hadn't seen Y/n in days and he's been so curious about her since. She's not the same as before like he wishes she were. There remnants of her younger self, but he was beginning to realize they're not as prominent as they used to be. He thought he just liked how she was back then, but the way he misses her now makes it clear that he just likes her. Life feels so unfair sometimes. It would have been much easier if no other man ever went near her. Lee is selfish and wants her all to himself.
"Where have you been?"
"At home, with my husband."
"Florence been talking about you a lot. Why haven't you come over?"
"I haven't been invited."
He knows that's a lie. He knows she's been avoiding Florence's call because his wife complains about it, but he can't really blame her. If only he didn't have to go through his wife to get to his former mistress.
"Well, you should come back soon."
Y/n just nods. She should say no, but she’s almost afraid of what his reaction would be if she says no. If she had any ounce of common sense she would stop associating herself with Florence and leave the Bodeckers’ orbit. Something nags at her, telling her it would be pointless to try to disappear again when Lee knows just how close she is to him now.
Lee grabs the box of rice that was once covering his face and moves it back to its original place. Y/n can't see him anymore, but she can hear him walking away until the sound becomes faint. She’s stuck in the spot until she hears the voices of Florence and Suzy coming from around the corner. She goes to join them as if her encounter with Lee didn’t happen.
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weasleylangs · 3 years
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if you don’t know, let me go - f.w
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Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.) 
- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!
Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!
---------------------------------------------------
“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” 
It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned. 
“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.
No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship. 
Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.
“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet. 
Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.
“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.
-
Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.
“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next. 
“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?” 
Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.
‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’
Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.
“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet? 
“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.
She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.
She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’ 
Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks. 
“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?” 
As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm. 
Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks. 
“That offer to the ball still on the table?” 
-
Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.
“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”
It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him. 
“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”
Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe. 
“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it. 
She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.
She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.
“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner. 
Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.
“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit. 
She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.
“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face. 
“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.
“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong. 
“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.
“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.
Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N. 
“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do. 
“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up. 
“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here. 
“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N? 
It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.” 
Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey. 
-
Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne. 
“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.
“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.
“He asked me.” 
Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”
Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her. 
“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake. 
“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her. 
“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”
If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.
She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her. 
“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.” 
Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.
Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him. 
-
Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him. 
Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay. 
“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade. 
However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for. 
Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing. 
While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day. 
-
The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable. 
Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.
Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.
Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina. 
Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.
Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.
“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.” 
“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.
“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.” 
Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through. 
“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?” 
He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.” 
Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow. 
Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.
Alone.
“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.
-
He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.
He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave. 
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?” 
Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile. 
“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars. 
“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers. 
“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”
“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.
“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 
“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-” 
“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her? 
“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.
And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate. 
“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.” 
Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.
She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. 
As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.
Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle. 
“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go. 
“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his. 
She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts. 
“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.” 
Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.
“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it. 
“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.” 
Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons. 
Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”
 ---------------------------------------------------
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saltyhyunjae · 3 years
Text
CHAPTER THREE: YOU KNOCK ME OUT COLD AND DISAPPEAR
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genre/warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers (?), kidnapping, criminal!tbz, mentions of guns & knives, small mention of suicide
word count: 2.2k
summary: It’s time for y/n to carry out her escape plan.
part two
“Here’s the diary you asked for.” Kevin gives you a small notebook with a pen. “Thank you.” Tomorrow is gonna be the day. The day you finally escape. When you enter your room, you sit on your bed and write down the info you have gathered all week.
Everyone goes to their room around 2 in the morning. Eric gets his midnight snack at 2:30, and Sunwoo goes to the toilet around 3. By the time they’re all asleep it’s 3:30. Instead of leaving at 3:30 you decide that it’s better to stay put till 4. You also checked the door last night. It doesn’t have any censors and an easy lock. This should be an easy mission.
“Knock knock.” Younghoon walks into your room. You quickly close your diary and put it on your nightstand.
“That’s not how you knock.”
He laughs and lies on your bed. “I’m so bored, what should we do?” “We?” You turn around to face him and he nods. You look outside. It’s been raining all week but the sun has been shining all morning. “Why don’t we sit in the garden?” You suggest. Ever since you came back from the grocery store you’ve only been inside. You needed some fresh air.
After a couple minutes you were outside with Younghoon, sitting on a picnic blanket, eating some fruit and enjoying the nice weather.
“Ah, the weather is great today.” Younghoon smiles, laying down on the blanket and you do the same. You smile at the warm feeling from the sun, finally relaxing.
Even though your eyes are closed, you can suddenly feel a shadow above you, blocking the sun. “What the-, move!” You hear Younghoon complain and you open your eyes to see Hyunjae, standing between you too. If you’re completely honest you’ve been avoiding him ever since what happened that one night. The more you hangout with him, the weirder you start to feel.
“What are you guys doing?” “What does it look like? We’re enjoying the sun.” Younghoon puts his sunglasses back on and lays down again. You’re about to close your eyes again but Hyunjae finds a way to lie between you two. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Younghoon groans. “I wanna enjoy the sun too.” “Go do that somewhere else.” “No.” You scootch over a bit and decide to just ignore him.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
After you’re done with cleaning the living room and folding the laundry, Jacob asks you to have another guitar session, to which you excitedly agree. You loved his voice and you were hoping he could tell you a bit more about the boys.
He starts off by singing Paris In The Rain by Lauv. you absolutely love his voice and you automatically start smiling the second you hear him sing. You once again take your time to look at him. He has a soft smile as he sings, his hair falling just right above his eyes that are following the chords of the guitar and his head slowly nodding with the melodies.
When he finishes the song, you applaud him. “Wow Jacob, you’re so good at singing. Do you have some self-written songs?” He nods “I do, do you want to hear one?” You nod excitedly. “This one is called happy-” Jacob gets interrupted by Hyunjae storming into your room. Are you actually kidding me?
“Jacob, Sangyeon needs you to help him.” Jacob nods, stands up and thanks you for your time before leaving to help Sangyeon. You were hoping Hyunjae would leave with Jacob but instead he sits next to you on the bed, very close, leaving no personal space.
You're about to scootch away from him. But he places his hand on your thigh to stop you. Usually if a guy did this you would slap his hand away, but you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. “What’s with the distance? You’ve been avoiding me all week. Did you think I wouldn't notice?” He asks in a low voice. Your brain starts to fog up. “I-” You try to find words to say but nothing comes out. His face gets closer, never breaking eye contact with you.
“What? Do I make you nervous?” He smirks. You feel a bubble of annoyance come up. As you're about to reply with ‘no’, Eric storms in. “Y/n! ah Hyunjae, there you are!” “What do you want?” Hyunjae asks, clearly annoyed at Eric interrupting the two of you.
“Y/n, come play games with me. Hyunjae, you can come too if you want.” Hyunjae huffs and rolls his eyes. “Y/n, please.” Eric whines, now pulling your arm, trying to get you off the bed. “Okay okay.” You give in, scared to be alone with Hyunjae in one room. You would be lying if you say that your heart doesn't flutter every time you see him.
After an hour and a half of playing mario kart with Eric and Hyunjae, and you despite your sneaky protests, sitting in between them, and you beating both of them more than seven times, it’s finally time for dinner. And guess who you're sitting next to. Hyunjae.
“So guys, our break is ending. Our next group mission starts next week, so make sure you prepare for it well. I’ll tell you guys the details later.” Sangyeon announces and the boys cheer. “Finally I was so bored.” Changmin drops on his chair. “You're always bored, maybe you're just boring.” Eric laughs, making fun of him, but quickly stopping as Changmin points a knife at him.
After dinner Sangyeon and Chanhee offer to help clean up and Kevin helps you with the dishes. By the time you're done it’s late, so you decide to go to bed first. Since your escape is tomorrow, you need as much rest as you can.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Today you woke up a little later than normally so you won't be tired tonight. You really need your energy to run as fast as possible. After you guys are done with eating breakfast you watch a drama with Juyeon, Haknyeon and Eric, do laundry and clean the house and by the time you're done it's time to prepare for dinner which Younghoon and Sunwoo helps you with.
After dinner you clean up with Eric and then go to your room to prepare your outfits. You grab a sweater from your closet and a pair of leggings that would be comfortable and warm, since it would be cold at night.
While you put them under your bed with your sneakers, someone knocks on your door. Finally someone who can knock, you think. “Come in.” Jacob comes in smiling at you. “Hi, am I disturbing you?” You shake your head sitting on your bed and he does the same.
“Well I just wanna tell you I'm very happy to have you here, you’ve been helping us a lot even though I know you don’t wanna be here and I really appreciate you. I would’ve given you a present, but I don't think you would appreciate stolen stuff.” He looks down at his knees, blushing a bit, cute.
You started to feel a pang of guilt in your heart, Jacob has been an angel to you ever since you first spoke to him but you couldn’t take it any longer, you wanted to leave. You needed to leave. Trying to enjoy the time you had left with him you guys spent hours talking about Canada, his childhood, why he doesn’t swear and about how much he loves basketball. You could watch him talk for hours. You nod to everything he says, trying to ignore the butterflies you feel when you two make eye contact.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You look up at the clock in your room. 04:00. You get up from your bed and make your way to your bedroom door. You slowly open your door and walk to the stairs, quietly going down the steps and taking breaks every few steps. You mentally sigh when u make it downstairs u slowly make your way to the front door in the dark careful not to make a noise.
When you walk past the kitchen you decide to take a knife with you, just in case. When you get to the door you slowly open the door, cringing at the little squeak sound it makes in the process.
Once the door is wide enough for you to fit in, you step outside, leaving the door open, since the sound of the door closing might wake them up. You take a few quick steps till you reach further from the house.
Once you’re reaching the forest you hear the door slam open. Shit! You turn around before you start running. Sangyeon’s standing at the door. Clearly very angry. “Y/N!” You hear him scream as you start running fasters. You hear the others making a fuss as you take a turn right into the forest.
“God, she’s fast.” Kevin breathes out, taking a break from running. “Yeah, just let her go, I'm too tired.” Chanhee squats down, Younghoon doing the same. “No! she’ll report us to the police and then it’s over for us, we need to find her.” Sangyeon says before making his way to the forest, the others following behind him.
You notice the forest is on top of a hill, which makes you run down faster. You run way faster than expected, almost twisting your ankle when taking a turn left. The footsteps of the boys started to fade away but you didn’t slow down, adrenaline still rushing through your body.
“Y/N!” Sangyeon screams looking around, he stops running and waits for the others to catch up, when they do, he shares his plan. “Okay, we're splitting up in the units we use for our missions, call me when you find her.” And they all split up in their units, Sangyeon’s unit going left.
“How could she do this?” Eric sighs. “I mean we kidnapped her, this was bound to happen.” Hyunjae says. He hates to admit but he’s worried sick and hopes you're not hurt. He shrugs it off thinking it's just a normal reaction and that he’s not actually catching feelings for you.
After a while your running slows down and you start to get tired. You stumble across a huge fallen down tree and you decide to hide behind it. Cliche but you're so tired, you can barely feel your legs. Once you sit down, you bend a bit making sure your head isn’t visible. You sigh. Why did you have to be the one to get kidnapped, why did they have to rob the store you work at. You stop the tears you feel from flowing so it won’t block your sight.
“How fast is she, God.” You hear Changmin’s voice from a little distance. Shit. You're freaking out but remain in your position. You pray that they won’t see you, cause they’ll definitely kill you when they do. The voices are starting to fade and you take the opportunity to start running again, regaining the adrenaline you had earlier.
But you should’ve waited. Juyeon spots you. “There!” You hear him yell and they start running after you. You panic, taking a run right, into the darker part of the forest. You jump over another fallen tree and make your way further down. Once you lose them you slow down a bit. You can barely see anything, so you start walking.
Suddenly you feel two hands grab you. You startle and stab the person with the knife you're holding. “Ow!” Jacob. You panic as you start running again, feeling slightly bad that he was the one you stabbed. You hope he’s okay as you start running faster.
After a while you stumble over something that makes you fall down, hurting your knee and elbows. “Fuck.” You whisper, quickly getting up. Soon after you run into a tree hurting your chest and cheek. You were getting so tired, you couldn’t even focus on where you were running to. You prayed this all was just a bad dream and you would wake up in your own room again, remaining your normal life.
“Jacob what happened!” Sangyeon gives him a worried look. The boys gather around Jacob, who’s holding his arm. “She stabbed me.” He understands why you did it but it still hurts him. “God, she has a knife.” Sunwoo panics. “Younghoon and Chanhee, bring Jacob to the house and take care of his wound. The rest of us will keep on searching.” The boys nod at his order and split up again.
An hour passes and the boys still haven’t found you. Hyunjae starts to worry even more. They were all wearing a jacket, but you didn't. It was so cold around this time of the day and it would be so easy to freeze up. “Shouldn’t we just give up. The sun will start rising soon, she’ll probably show up again.” He suggests, but Sangyeon ignores him. He sighs. As much as he wants you to be free, he doesn’t want to let you go.
You’re just roaming around at this point. You have no idea how much time has passed, or if the boys have given up already. You think it might be easier to just stab yourself with a knife and just die. But you didn’t want to give up. You wanted your old life back. You finally see the end of the forest a couple meters away from you and run towards it. But something grabs you and spins you around. You look up and your eyes widen. Hyunjae.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
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britishassistant · 3 years
Note
Oooo oh! The post you just made is so interesting! Can you do a version with how things go down in the supervillain universe? Like all the dorm heads call Yuu Prefect and Yuu freaks out internally as to how these younger version of the supervillains know their secret?
@ectopus said: ok now i wanna know more on whats happening with older Yuu with the dorm leaders from twisted wonderland
Anonymous said: Finding out your crush is also your enemy sometimes ally is amazing funny! Reporter Yuu gots their hands full with these teenagers and twenty-year-old.
Yuu the Reporter isn’t exactly happy to hear frantic banging on their apartment door late at night. Unsurprised, but not happy.
“I know I told you all I have the 6AM shift tomorrow.” They grouse loudly as they go to open it. “So I don’t care what amazing scheme it is you want to kidnap me for, it is not my pro—”
They stop short when they see what looks like younger versions of Tsunotaro, Charon, and...is that Viper-san? The aide to Kalim Al-Asim?
The trio are huddled together miserably on their doorstep, all dressed in similar school uniforms. Tsunotaro and Charon have a blazer and a hoodie held over their heads, as if that will in any way disguise them.
“This just became my problem, didn’t it.” The reporter says glumly to the three...teenagers? They look like teenagers, Great Seven they’re so lanky and baby-faced, it’s making Yuu feel old.
Teenage Charon lets out a squeak, the edges of his hair flaring hot pink under his hoodie. Teenage Tsunotaro is just staring at them, wide-eyed and mute. Teen Viper-san swallows and says “You think?” in what is probably supposed to be a sardonic manner, but the effect is kinda ruined by his voice cracking halfway through.
It says a lot about Yuu’s life that they just open the door wider and stand aside to let the teenagers shuffle in with only a weary, “Age ray or alternate selves?”
Of course, it can never just be two or three afflicted with the supervillains.
Malleus, Idia, and Jamil are in the middle of explaining how they each came to in different lairs, running into each other on their way to the only recognizable name in the lair’s databases and running away from the screaming townsfolk in Malleus and Idia’s cases, when there’s another violent pounding at the door.
The reporter has to get Jamil to put his...magic wand? thing away before they can go see who it is. Yuu’s not sure how much damage that thing can do, but they’d rather their apartment not get turned into the scene of a brawl again, please and thank you.
The teenager insists on hovering though, as though Yuu is not a grown ass adult who can open doors on their own and not shatter like glass. He promptly gets bowled over by the three other uniformed teenagers and young adult (?) that burst in the moment the handle turns.
The younger King slams the door shut behind them, tail lashing up a storm and ears nearly flat on his head, a growl still rumbling in his chest. The teenage Octo Dealer’s glasses have been snapped clean in half. Yuu still doesn’t get why younger versions of Dr. Rosehearts and Schoenheit-san are with them, but the pair of civilians look understandably shaken.
They are all covered in glitter.
The reporter recognizes that look well. “A RSA hero found you, didn’t they?”
Schoenheit-san sneezes on glitter as he scoffs, “Hero? An overgrown manchild courting indecent exposure and awful fashion sense is more like it!”
White Neige it is then.
The reporter goes to get the first aid kit and lint roller to begin patching up the high schoolers like they’ve done countless times for the minions and supervillains before them.
So Yuu’s little apartment is now filled with high schoolers. High schoolers who are having some trouble absorbing the fact that they’re in a world where four of them are highly feared supervillains, and three of them are hapless civilians. All of them seem to be united in glaring at Grim when he strolls out of the reporter’s bedroom and asks how they all got so small.
By now, Yuu’s phone has begun blowing up with messages from the Game Night group and the other minions asking where their bosses are.
The reporter texts back that they have no idea where Snake Charmer, Poison Queen, or Royal Flush are, but they do snap a picture to send in a group message of the teenage boys who are currently bickering over who gets to sit on the couch versus the floor, and whether Leona lying down on it and taking up the whole thing is “fair” to everyone else.
Uproar in the chat.
Lilia is squeeing over how small and cute Malleus is, lookit him in his little fancy school uniform!! Sebek is both joining in with this praise, and terrified about how they can turn the young master back to his old self! Silver is asleep because he has that luxury, the lucky bastard.
Ruggie is disappointed that his boss doesn’t have anything embarrassing that could potentially serve as blackmail material to get himself a pay raise. Jack wants to arm wrestle young Leona if he’s still there tomorrow and see who would win.
Floyd and Jade want to come over to pick on Azul! Yuu says no! They say they’re coming anyway!!
Ortho is coming too!! His nii-san is now younger and needs him and there’s nothing Yuu can do about it!!
Lilia heavily implies that they all can wait until tomorrow or else.
Suddenly Yuu is no longer anticipating any more house guests tonight. Yay?
Waterboy’s weirdly excited at the picture of Jamil, and Huntsman keeps rhapsodizing about Vil’s youthful beauty, but they’re both a little odd so the reporter purposely thinks nothing of it.
Just like they think nothing of Trey’s oddly monosyllabic mother-henning over the young Riddle. He’s much smaller than the other boys—he probably just set of Trey’s big brother instincts is all. And if the rest of the Heartslaybul minions have gone strangely quiet too? They’re likely just busy searching for Royal Flush. Nothing to read into here, no sir.
Yuuken tells Yuu to call if they need any extra food or blankets for their guests or anything. He’ll try to convince their boss’s boss that Yuu’s taken ill tomorrow. For a moment, all seems right with the world.
Then Azul calls for the “prefect” to come settle the couch argument.
Yuu promptly drops the cup they were about to pour lemon tea into.
They wave off Malleus and Riddle’s concern, Azul’s apologies, and Jamil’s attempts to clear up the shards up for them, saying they were just...startled at being addressed like that.
The reporter explains that, while the students’ version of Yuu might be known as a prefect back at their school, here The Prefect is the name of a...controversial vigilante. One who foils the villainous schemes of the top seven supervillains in the city, and usually takes quite the beating while doing so. The supervillains’ ire even extends to their friend and cameraman, Yuuken, who’s only suspected of being the Prefect.
Yuu likes being on good enough terms with the supervillains that they know even if they get kidnapped, they won’t get seriously hurt. If they or any of their minions were to be given reason, however flimsy, to believe the reporter was The Prefect...
Well. Yuu doesn’t like to think about what would happen then.
The high schoolers keep shooting Yuu looks that suggest they don’t buy this flimsy explanation, but they let the subject drop mercifully, turning back to serving tea and dividing up who will be sleeping where.
Another argument erupts when the reporter offers to sleep on the floor so one or two of them can share their bed. Leona and Malleus come close to almost burning the apartment down before Yuu takes a page out of Uncle Divvy’s book and breaks out the rolled up newspaper to restore order.
Later that night, after it’s all settled and the students are all fast asleep, Yuu the Reporter has a panic attack in the privacy of their bathroom.
They don’t know how much longer they can keep this up.
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softrozene · 3 years
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@luna-hatake-uchiha​ requested: Hi. First of all, I want to wish you a happy new year. I read on Archiv of your Own that your request box is open... Soo could you please write a scenario where Law and his s/o are having a daughter and after a few years their daughter shows symptoms of the Amber Lead poisoning? And Law doing everything he can to heal her? (This is my first time doing this and I'm sorry if I sound rude somewhere.)
You were perfect in requesting Hon! Apologies for how late this is (I hope you had a good start to the new year!) but omg- That would be so heartbreaking ahhhhh. This came out pretty angsty but I tried to give it a neutral ending! I hope you enjoy it!
This turned into a one-shot oops.
Trafalgar Law x Female Reader
Warnings: Fluff/Angst- Spoilers of Law’s past. Can be considered a good or sad ending! Uhh Post-Pirating au? Law is retired from the pirate life lol, grammar
*Instead of 2nd pov I wrote this in 3rd pov for a change. : )
Also, yeah- I am pretty sure that Law would be able to cure his daughter of this because of his Devil Fruit and it’s “Miraculous” abilities but I went for the more angsty side, so I made it more complicated than that lol. I just love the idea of protective dad Law.
Words: 1983
-
The smell of coffee is usually a scent that brings the pregnant woman, (Name), a comfort since that means she can sneak a sip from her husband’s cup but right now… It is too early for coffee. He should be in bed with her, but the sun is not even up. With exhaustion evident on her face and the goal of finding Law and bringing him back to bed- She regretfully leaves the warm bed.
The house they have is a decent-sized home. Two bedrooms- The one they share together, and the guest room, a nursery that Law and (Name) have been working on and of course, Law’s office to store his medical books and journals, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a small cozy living room.
It felt like bliss living here.
Even more so with the bun in the oven. Law was in shock when he realized his wife was indeed pregnant, but it made the joy of retiring from piracy to enjoy a domestic life with her all the better. It most certainly eases his thoughts that most of his crew also retired here on this peaceful island.
Things could not have turned out more perfect for them.
Though… That was about to change as (Name) walks into his office- The light from it leaking out into the hallway. The smell of coffee gets stronger, and she smiles upon seeing how serious her husband is looking through some of his books.
No matter what he is doing, he looks so handsome.
Something he got used to arguing with her saying how she is crazy for thinking his eyebags are attractive. It was all jokes sure but (Name) was serious and proud to say he was handsome. His personality definitely that too. She can rely on him and him on her and that is something hard to do for the both of them.
Law is too in the zone in the book so (Name) uses that to her advantage. She sneaks up behind him and is quick to wrap her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek. His tense body immediately relaxes within her hold and he turns to offer her a tired smile.
“Did I wake you?” He asks softly as a hand comes up to meet her swollen belly.
(Name) laughs and holds his hand to her stomach. “Yes, but it is fine. I just got cold without your warmth. That and the beautiful smell of coffee. I think our daughter wants a sip.”
Law’s face turns into a scolding one immediately making his wife laugh as she continues, “Hey! You said I could have some in moderation! I think a tiny sip is less than that and yes, I know we do not know if our child will be a girl, but I just have this feeling…”
Law sighs but… Then smiles as he just shakes his head. He gives in knowing full well that his wife’s point was mainly about getting her daily sip of coffee in. He pulls away from his wife’s loving hand to reach for his mug of coffee. Being careful of the still-hot contents in it. He hands it to her and watches as she smiles and takes her desired sip. Handing it back to him he puts it on the desk and immediately pulls the pregnant woman onto his lap earning himself a giggle from her.
“Anyway, what are you doing up, my love?” She asks as she nuzzles her face into his neck the best she can.
At this question, Law turns tense. His sigh comes out stressed as he hesitates to speak. He thinks it would be better now to share his concern, especially when it is such a valid one.
“I… Fear that our child may get Amber Lead Poising. It is a hereditary disease,” Law mumbles.
This makes his wife freeze up. She knows his pain with that. The fear of it. He must have been bottling it up until he just could not ignore the possibility. With a gentle sigh, (Name) places a tender kiss on his lips, momentarily distracting him from his painful thoughts.
“My love, please come back to bed. After a few more hours of sleep, you can come back in here… And no matter what happens with our child- I have faith that you will find a cure. Until then, try not to worry. Otherwise, you are going to send yourself into an early grave by putting all that stress on your heart,” (Name) says as a yawn escapes her.
Law can only smile now. She truly is his best friend. His other half. She knows how to ease his worries even if it is temporarily, but what she said… It also rings true. He vows to find a cure in the case that their child will get that stupid disease.
~*~
The rest of the pregnancy goes by quickly and as soon as the baby, a girl, is in their arms it feels like total bliss for them. It is everything they never imagined having but makes their lives totally complete. Her middle name is in memory of Law’s younger sister. The full name being Trafalgar Lami Lin.
“She looks like you already- Look at those wide (eye color) eyes,” Law says with a gentle smile on his face.
He never imagined he could allow himself to be this soft and vulnerable. To share it with (Name). His wife laughs as she leans against his arm as he holds their little girl in his arms. Both (Name) and the baby are exhausted.
“Thank the gods she does not look like a mini sleep-deprived version of you. Well, if she takes my looks, I only hope she gains your intelligence,” (Name) jokes.
Law smirks at the playful tone and as if he remembers sighs- “I forgot to tell you. What is left of the crew will be coming here tomorrow. They were even more excited than us combined.”
“Looks like we got a couple of free babysitters… I trust Bepo with her. Sachi and Penguin might drop her.”
Law sweatdrops at this and wishes he could argue back but… His wife is right. He makes a mental note to have Bepo be their go-to babysitter.
~*~
Days pass by fast when you feel joy and they pass even faster when you feel like the world suddenly has a time limit on it. Law promised his wife to enjoy the days with them and he did, but he spent countless nights trying to find a cure- Getting so close to finding something that can help in the case his daughter gets the disease.
The baby grows quickly into a child, but it was the age of five when Law realizes that she has those stupid white spots on her skin- Meaning she has Amber Lead Poisoning. He felt like he was suffocating. She was not supposed to get it. He paid his dues during his piracy. His loss of Rosinante. His loss of family. He paid whatever the hell life thought he owed it, so she was supposed to be in the clear.
She was not.
He knows that is just wishful thinking. His whole family got it and Amber Lead is a hereditary disease. He was supposed to die at age thirteen. He did not all because he ate a fruit thanks to Rosinante. Just because he ate a fruit and cured himself does not mean he could actually cure Amber Lead with his fruit.
He could try and cure Lin as he did himself. Using the fruit’s "miraculous" properties which is having the ability to cure any kind of illness. However, this requires some extent of medical knowledge in order to be utilized effectively. He has that knowledge, but he does not have the full knowledge to cure others of this disease. He cured himself because he ate the fruit.
He needs a real cure. One to ensure that this disease does not follow into the genes anymore. He wants to ensure that if his daughter wants a family of her own- If she makes it to that age, he wants her to be able to not have to think about her own children having the disease.
He estimated she would only have a few years left. Until those white spots grow big enough to almost devour her. His blissful life turned into a nightmare for him. He always could not stand the thought of losing (Name) and the feeling was deeper with their daughter Lin since she was only a child.
She deserved a long and happy life.
He was going to sacrifice his time to ensure that.
It was during one of these nights when he cursed out life for being cruel that Law had an epiphany. Something in his research began to make sense for a cure- It was uncertain, but it was something and it was this night that his wife was woken up when he got up out of excitement to begin writing on a large board he put together. He accidentally dropped a book nothing too alarming, so he was surprised to see his wife checking on him.
Her large eyes watching the board- Trying to decipher his valid obsession of finding a cure. He could not contain his excitement as he pauses briefly to place a kiss on his wife’s lips.
“Whoa. You are super cheery for once,” She notes.
Law can only smile. “I think I am close to finding something. A cure. It would still be a while before I have something solid but… This is it. It has to be it.”
Hearing this fills (Name) up with excitement too. Only to see Law experience a crash. He is at his limit for tonight since he spent all day shopping with his daughter and wife to go to Penguin’s birthday (definitely an alcohol) party. He should be totally spent after today.
(Name) only hugs him feeling his body immediately relax into hers and he freezes upon remembering something. Pulling back slightly he looks at his darling wife and places a kiss on her forehead.
“Hey… I do need to tell you something. If this lead goes nowhere. I am going to use the Ope Ope no Mi fruit on her,” Law states.
(Name) freezes in his grip. Understanding these words. That means he is going to sacrifice his life for their daughter if he can’t make a cure. He is willing to use the fruit’s powers for what others have wanted it for. Immortality.
He is willing to grant their daughter “eternal youth” if it means she can experience life without the disease affecting her.
His mind is dead set on that backup plan so all (Name) Can do is nod. He smiles at her though as to reassure her.
“That is just a backup plan. We still have a few years left but as of now, I do believe it is time to get in contact with that crazy pirate- Luffy. I need him to bring Chopper here. With Chopper’s help this should work,” Law murmurs more to himself.
He is exhausted.
“Alright Love- I will go get in contact with them. I will send a letter. Though… I think you should head to bed. You did well. You are such a good father,” (Name) murmurs.
Hearing this… Law really feels like he might break. All of these restless nights are going to be worth something. He is going to do what his dad almost did for his younger sister. He will cure his daughter and be able to watch her grow.
“Law… You are getting my hair wet with your snot and tears.”
“Shut up,” He mumbles as he holds his partner.
She laughs and the two stay like that- Content that there is hope for their daughter.
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